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dyns33 · 2 days ago

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New life

!! SPOILERS - Careful, Venom The last dance spoilers here !!!

I was wondering while watching the movie if that would give me new ideas for Eddie and his tiny alien, and yes, yes it did.

When Y/N had met Eddie Brock in a New York cafe, he had hesitated at first before accepting her into his life.

It had taken him several weeks to open up, talk to her, understand that she liked him, and then admit that he liked her too.

Once he had offered her his trust, he had explained why to her. Really explained everything, adding that he understood that she thought he was crazy and that she would decide to run away from him when he was done.

First, he had completely ruined his career and his relationship with his fiancée Anne by being selfish and stupid. For a long time, Eddie had refused to see the truth, making excuses, but he had to admit that it was all his fault.

Then, there was Venom. The alien symbiote who had brought as much joy as problems into his existence, before sacrificing himself to save him, along with the rest of humanity.

"He was my best friend." he said, trying to hold back his sobs. "He could be annoying, but I wasn't a gift either. We were supposed to see the Statue of Liberty together, but… Well. I miss him a lot. It's weird not hearing from him all the time. It's hard without him."

Not only did these revelations not scare Y/N away, but she found herself even more in love and touched by this wounded man who was doing his best to move forward despite everything he had been through.

Like a wild animal, it took a little more time to reassure Eddie that she really loved him and especially that he wasn't going to lose her.

For their first date, he offered her an ice cream, not far from Lady Liberty. Y/N took his hand, to support him, but especially so that he knew that she wasn't going to try to make him forget Venom.

Just because they were together didn't erase everything he'd experienced with his alien parasite friend, who was a lot like a boyfriend when he told her all their stories.

"Nah, just a friend."

"You said you loved each other."

"Like buddies."

"You had arguments as a couple. He was jealous and protective. You gave him chocolate on Valentine's Day."

"Once ! And to keep him quiet. And the rest was just a symbiote thing."

"You admitted to me that he 'took care of' your erections when he was in full form. Why did you have erections anyway ?"

"… Shit, I was in a relationship with Vee."

He cried again, in shock. Not because he was ashamed, but because he had not understood the nature of their relationship, much more intense than simple friendship. He did not blame Y/N for opening his eyes, as she did not hold back from doing so, thinking that it was necessary for him to grieve properly.

Several months passed, life continuing in an excellent direction.

After using his contacts and abilities, Eddie Brock had become a formidable reporter in New York, even if he was a little more careful about his methods and the people he wrote about.

In his private life, he made Y/N very happy, learning from his past mistakes to become the best boyfriend possible. No secrets, no lies, no manipulation to get information for an article. They were not in symbiosis, but almost.

Much more relaxed and open than before, he kept his calm in most situations. Even when they had some cockroach problems. Or rather one cockroach problem.

"It's still there." Eddie noted while drinking his coffee, observing the insect that was partially hidden behind the couch.

"Do you want me to call someone ?"

"Nah. He doesn't hurt anyone, that little guy. We don't leave food lying around, we throw out our trash. No point in staying here or calling his friends. He must be lost, he'll leave eventually."

"What if he thinks you're so cool that he tells the others to come over just so he can watch you sleep ?"

"Eww, babe, gross. Listen, if he's still here in a week, I'll take care of him. But it must be a neighbor with questionable hygiene who has a colony, he'll go back there."

The cockroach stayed, but like Eddie had said, he wasn't that much of a nuisance. Most of the time he was nowhere to be found, otherwise he stayed in his corner.

Strangely, he showed up when the couple was together, as if he was waiting to watch them. His presence was still abnormal, in addition to being possibly dirty, so Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands, trying to get him out.

"I know you're the most impossible thing to kill on this Earth." she said to the cockroach that was hiding under the closet. "And besides, Eddie decided he didn't want you to die, so let me put you in this jar, I'll take you to a landfill, and you'll be the happiest little cockroach, okay ?"

Of course, the insect wasn't ready to cooperate, putting itself as far away as possible, in an impossible place to reach. It was ridiculous, but Y/N had the impression that it understood perfectly what she was saying.

Eddie found her on the living room floor, her hand under the closet, trying for several hours to catch it.

"Need some help ?"

"Thanks, Eddie, it's between him and me now."

"Poor little thing that has no chance against someone stronger than them. Accept that he's winning."

"You're hilarious. He's staring at me without moving, he's making fun of me, it's personal. I'm pretty sure I saw him smile."

"You been upside down for a long time, babe ?" he asked as he sat down next to her, rubbing her back. "Come on, I'll take care of it, I'll get rid of the horrible monster."

"No, Eddie… Please…"

It was probably the first time someone had dropped their shoe to cry and try to hug a cockroach, but Eddie being an extraordinary man, Y/N was only half surprised. Same thing when the insect started talking again, small tentacles coming out of it to wrap around her boyfriend. She had thought she had imagined that voice.

Losing its dark color, the creature was thrown out the window, while the tentacles remained around Eddie, before disappearing, as if absorbed by his heart. Then an alien head appeared near his shoulder.

"Wait… Is that Venom ?" she asked, a bit lost. "You told me he was dead."

"I thought so too ! Last time, he was just exhausted but still inside me, but this time… Vee, I thought I'd never see you again !"

"Eddie… I told you it wasn't goodbye. It took me a lot longer than I thought to find you. Cockroaches are tough, but their legs are tiny, not as fast as a horse. And then… I saw you with your new love. So I didn't know if you'd want me to come back."

"But of course I…"

Remembering the discussion they had had, Eddie turned to Y/N, as if he was scared. Now that he knew the feelings he had for his symbiote, without ever realizing it when they were together, it was embarrassing to say that he wanted him back while he was in a relationship with her.

Maybe Venom had insisted for a long time that he get back with Anne, because it seemed to be the key to his host's happiness, but then there had been no one between them.

The alien didn't know Y/N. He had spent several days observing her, seeing if she was good enough for his Eddie, and after accepting that she was a suitable partner, he had wondered if he wasn't going to ruin everything by showing himself.

After all, Eddie had often said that it was his fault that he had lost everything. Venom didn't agree, he knew that most of his host's problems were the result of his bad decisions, but maybe he had turned his life upside down a bit, forcing him to give up certain things for him, like Vee had given up certain things to please him.

A relationship was certainly one of those things. With Anne, it might have been possible since she knew about the symbiote, but someone new ? That would have been hard to sell.

"You told her about me ?" Venom realized as he stared at Y/N. "Weren't you ashamed ? Didn't you repress your feelings because of the stupid social conventions that say men should be strong and insensitive ?"

"Of course I told her about you. I made a lot of resolutions after… After. I wanted to honor your memory, while being honest with Y/N."

"That's good, Eddie ! You're a little less of a loser !"

"Thanks, buddy, so nice."

Poor Eddie grimaced, probably accepting that this insult was a compliment, but Y/N quickly understood that there was a parallel, silent discussion going on between them in his head. She could easily guess that Venom was wondering if he would be able to stay, if she would leave because of him, or worse if his host would have to make a choice, which would make him unhappy.

Ensuring the happiness of his human was so important to him that the symbiote would have been ready to stay hidden under their couch, to be close to him without risking disturbing him. Who could hate such an adorable alien ?

"If we don't adopt chickens, and we buy lots of chocolate, I guess cohabitation won't be impossible." she smiled shyly, before they found the courage to ask her opinion.

"Babe ? Really ?"

"You really chose well, Eddie ! She might even be too good for you !"

"Thanks Vee, really super nice again. But babe, are you sure ? He can be… We are… You can say it if you find it weird."

"It's weird, but it doesn't bother me."

Almost every day, Eddie kissed her tenderly, in the morning, before leaving for work, when entering their apartment, when they went to sleep, but he had never been so passionate when he kissed her at that moment, repeating that he loved her.

As if he had been there forever, the alien had surrounded them with his tentacles in an attempt of a hug, commenting on the scene that he considered the most beautiful and romantic thing he had ever seen, even better than in his favorite telenovela with Maximiliano. He immediately ordered them to watch it when Y/N told him that she didn't know who he was talking about.

Not as invested, Eddie fell asleep on the sofa, keeping her in his arms and snoring lightly in her neck, while Venom explained the previous episodes to her with great excitement, as if everything was normal.

#venom #venom the last dance #spoilers #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock #eddie brock fanfiction

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voidoffline · 8 hours ago

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I haven’t lost an eye, tho I did go several months not seeing out of one eye (I kept it closed because in a stroke of stupidity I thought it would help me see better since I have double vision. It just made my eyes and that eye specifically a million times worse-)

And I noticed the neck thing so quickly. Like it was pretty easy for me to adjust (just because I’m good at adjusting to shit Idk) and even though I had no pain then, it was crazy noticing how different things were. Like I walked differently, I always kept to one side of people so I could see them better, I kept bumping my hands into things because of how closing my right eye fucked up my hand eye coordination

And when I finally opened my eye again, after so long of keeping it closed - mostly because at that point my eye had weakened and it was difficult to open it - shit got more colorful. Like I could tell the difference between how much color I was seeing. I doubt a character would go through that - but like if you’re writing a character that’s gotten some surgery done or something and had to wear a patch for a while, well, I think I at least would probably include them realizing things are just a bit more colorful after they take the patch off for the first time

Also rip my neck during the time I closed my eye for months. So much soreness and pain. I am so sorry past neck, I apologize. I was stupid

Also for the last thing ‘thehungwizard’ mentioned - it’s really like that for everything. So when your writing a character with any sort of disability or lack of a sense, keep that in mind. Like I don’t have a sense of smell and people constantly forget that I can’t spell things. I know that’s a lot less drastic and technically a lot less important than a whole eye, but still, the basis is that other ppl forget (no hate on others tho)

I’ve also experienced what op said in #6. It’s wild. And a bit annoying

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

#I know my experiences are not the same #as I simply closed my eye for a long while #and didn’t actually loose my vision in that eye (tho I may be slowly losing it now thanks to that-)#I still think it’s neat #that I can still relate to those things they list #and I think that’s important when writing a character too #because they won’t just slowly get these things #they’ll happen immediately #and they’ll likely stick the whole time #(I say likely just because hand eye coordination can be pretty easy to re correct. At least it was for me)#(tho other depth perception issues stay)#(or at least they take a lot longer for you to get used to - time that I did not have)#also never close one of your eyes for several months straight #I mean that’s probably really fucking obvious #but I do wish someone told 13 yr me that #there are other solutions to double vision

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heyheydidjaknow · 1 day ago

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After a very long week of diving headfirst into this fandom I think it’s only right that the champagne bottle we smash into this here ship is a four thousand word Chuuya x reader. Here’s to what I’m sure will be another few years of this, everyone; hope everyone is down.

Candies

He was glaring at you.

You had no idea when he got on the train. You did not care enough to wonder. What you knew was that he— the man in the hat on the opposite side of the train car— had been looking at you for the past three stops, and while you were fairly certain that you had no idea who he was, you were almost as certain that whoever he thought you were had another thing coming from how intensely he was watching you. Sure, he had the decency to look embarrassed by his staring, but that in no way stopped him from looking at you like you had something to apologize for. It was disconcerting. It was borderline creepy. But neither of you moved, because it was a train, and the two of you would not see each other again anyway.

The train slowed to a stop. Most people filed off. You did not. Neither did the man. You checked your watch, head falling back as you considered the pros and cons of waiting for the next train. You would have to eat dinner late, but you would not have to wonder why exactly he seemed to hate you this much for nothing.

You heard the rustling of clothing next to you. “Excuse me.”

You opened your eyes to the man. You took him in, identified any features that might be helpful for a police report: cold eyes, reddish hair, too many layers. Pretty, but not reassuring. You pulled your headphones off, fearing the worst. “May I help you?”

A pause.

You smiled tentatively. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll give you five hundred thousand yen if you’ll go out with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Reality seemed to catch up with him. “Shit. Uh.” He pulled his hat off, fiddling with the brim as he lowered his eyes. “Is that too little? I can go higher.”

“Do you think I’m a hooker?”

“Huh?”

You leaned away from him a bit. “What kind of thing is that to ask someone? ‘What’s your price?’ Seriously?”

The realization seemed to strike him like a baseball bat to the head. He immediately backpedaled. “That’s not— shit, I mean, that’s not what I meant to—“ he stammered. “I— no, I didn’t mean anything like that!”

“Yeah?” You raised your eyebrows. “That work for most people, asking them what they charge for a night? For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Hey!” He sat up, defensive. “I never said I wanted to take you home!”

You crossed your arms. “Then what exactly are you trying to do?”

“Ask you on a date!”

“You sure have a funny way of doing it.”

He huffed, face red. “Look,” he grumbled, “I don’t ask many people on dates; I’m trying my best here.”

“You could just ask me,” you pointed out. “You could ask me in a way that doesn’t involve offering me money.”

He rolled his eyes, seemingly— and audaciously— annoyed. “I can’t just walk up to a stranger and ask them on a date. Why would you go? You don’t know me; what if I’m a creep? How do you know if I’m worth the time?”

An incredulous smile crept onto your lips. “And you thought that offering me money would make you seem less creepy?”

“At least then you have a reason to show up! At least then I have a financial interest in showing you a good time!” He buried his face in his hands. “It took me a while to get this far and my stop is next and I do not have the time nor ability to actually woo you.”

The absurdity of this whole situation— the sight of an extravagantly dressed pretty boy bemoaning his romantic failings— was starting to get to you. “This all seems like a lot for someone you just met.”

He sat up quickly, steam practically pouring from his ears. “Well,” he explained seemingly in an attempt to regain some composure, “I may not know you yet, but I know that I’ve never seen anyone who looks as good as you do, and we’re on a train; I may never get the chance to see you again if I don’t do something right this second.”

You grinned. “Really?”

“Really. I am fucking this up.”

“A bit,” you agreed. “But you’re bringing it back around, calling me hot.”

He brightened. “I am?”

You shrugged. “More or less, yeah.”

His hands were shaking. You wondered how long they had been doing that. “Well,” he mumbled, “does that mean your answer isn’t a hard no?”

You leaned back in your seat. “I can be convinced,” you said. “Try again.”

He cleared his throat. “Hello.” He made eye contact with you again, the sharpness you had assumed was being weaponized against you seemingly inherent in his gaze. You tried, for a moment, to make out what color his eyes were, but the answer seemed to elude you. “My name is Nakahara Chuuya.”

“Hello, Nakahara Chuuya.” You crossed your legs. “See, this is better. Keep going.”

He gave you a confused look. You liked him, you decided. “Well,” he continued, disgruntled, “I couldn’t help but notice you. You’re easy to see.”

“Interesting word choice, but alright.”

He shot you a look. “You’re nice to look at. Is that better?”

Your smile softened. “Much. Keep going.”

He looked down at his hat. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were already spoken for.”

You snorted. “Spoken for?”

“Single,” he amended, irritated. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You stretched out your legs in front of you, thoroughly enjoying this. “I am both single and without boyfriend,” you assured him.

He nodded sternly. “Then, can I take you out? On a date?”

You considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” You leaned back in your seat. “You’re cute, and I don’t think you’ll murder me, and those are my two big requirements, so.”

He chuckled. “High bars. No wonder you’re single.”

“What can I say? I’m hard to please.” You dug around in your coat for a pen, holding your palm up towards you. “What’s your number?”

The redhead paused. “I don’t have a number right now,” he said. “I’m having trouble with my provider. I can give you a time and place, though.” He held out a gloved hand. “May I?”

You gave him the pen and your bare hand. Quickly, he scribbled down an address (someplace in Yokohama), a date (the next Saturday) and a time (six o’clock). As he finished, the train came to a halt at the platform, doors opening with a quiet hiss.

Nakahara Chuuya stood up, fixing his pork pie hat securely atop his head before straightening out his clothes and giving you a stiff nod. “I will see you then,” he promised. “If you’re late by more than fifteen minutes, I’ll assume you stood me up.”

You gave the strange man a smile. “I’ll come early, then.”

He averted his eyes. “Thank you.” And with that, he left you on the train with a date, a time, and a great deal of confusion.

Foolishly, you showed up. You lived neither in nor near Yokohama. Getting to the address the man had given you— which he wrote with poor penmanship— took you some time too. You went through the trouble of dressing as well as he had been the day you met him— which was more formal than you would typically be for a first date with a stranger you met on a train— and went so far as to plan to be there fifteen minutes early. You had no idea why you were so interested in the man. You had no inclination as to what possessed you to show up to meet a stranger in the first place; after all, his assumption that you might think of him as some sort of predator would have been a reasonable one to make. But you had an inarticulable feeling that told you that this meeting would be worth your time.

Or you just thought he was pretty. You weren’t sure which it was.

The address he had given you brought you to a small restaurant close to the Tsurumi river which, if its sign was to be believed, primarily dealt in soba. Despite your planning, you arrived a mere five minutes early instead of fifteen which, in your defense, was still early, but apparently not so early that your date did not beat you there. As you approached him, a look of bewilderment briefly crossed his face.

“Damn,” you joked. “I thought I’d get here first.”

He looked over your shoulder. “You came,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I did,” you confirmed.

“Alone.”

“I was unaware I was meant to bring a plus one on a date.”

“No, I just mean—“ He stopped himself. “Whatever. I’m glad you came.”

You held your hands behind your back. “So am I, though I’m feeling a bit self conscious now.” You looked down at your clothes, then back to his. He had dressed much more casually than you in a loose, short sleeve button up, loose pants and a large dark jacket. He had kept the hat and the choker— which you had not until that moment realized you remembered— but you looked too formal next to him. “I thought you would dress the way you did on the train.”

He gave you a once over. “You look fine,” he said. “You look great, actually. Don’t worry about it.”

A smile spread across your face. “You've gotten more confident since then, too. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t look totally plain next to you is all; you look so stylish.”

He paused, eyes cast down towards his feet. “Thank you. I drank before I came.” He opened the door to the restaurant for you.

You walked past him. “Thank you. Did you drive?”

“Nah.” He shut the door behind the two of you. “This place is out of the way enough to make it not worth the trouble to park. I walked.” He nodded to the hostess, who sat the two of you in a corner away from the door.

The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall: exposed crossbeams, warmly lit, nearly empty despite it being a Saturday. You took your seat across from him as the woman set a cup of water in front of each of you, leaving you to your conversation. She made no eye contact with either of you before she left. You picked up your cup, taking a sip as he draped his coat over the back of the seat and set his hat beneath his chair. The gloves, however, stayed on. “How long was the walk?” you asked.

“Not far. A couple minutes.” His elbows came to rest on the table. “I can walk you back to your car if you drove, or to the train station if you need. Just let me know.”

“Thank you.” You took a menu from the center of the table, scanning it absently. “To be honest, I’m glad you asked me to do something earlier in the evening; I’m not super interested in being on my own in the dark.”

He hummed in agreement. “Nobody does. I have work to take care of later, but I can’t imagine wanting to stay out past twelve alone otherwise.”

You groaned sympathetically. “Terrible. What do you do?”

He paused. “I… it’s complicated.” He laced his fingers together. “I operate a shipping company under a parent organization operating out of Yokohama. I technically and practically own the shipping company, but I can’t legally operate it unless it’s under the parent organization, so I have all the stress of a business owner with none of the freedom.”

Your lips twitched nervously. “Are you on a list or something? Why can’t you operate a business?”

“What do you– oh.” The brief look of confusion left his face. “I’m a skill user.”

“A what?”

“You know,” he repeated, “a skill user?”

You stared at him blankly.

“I have a gift?”

“Isn’t that a dog whistle?”

“What? No!” He crossed his arms. “I have supernatural abilities.”

You considered it. “You know,” you mused, “I’ve never been on a date with a guy who came out as being possessed to me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, blinked. “Well,” he conceded, “I guess that’s what I’m saying, but that would be a bad assumption most of the time; most gifted users aren’t possessed.”

“Wait, seriously?” Skepticism and deep curiosity battled for supremacy in your mind. “By what?”

He shrugged. “A god, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“It’s complicated.” To your– and his– surprise, he laughed. “It’s funny; I can’t think of the last time I had to actually explain what my deal was.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Do most people just know?”

“More or less.” He shrugged again, looking towards the door. “It’s practical. I use it a lot.”

“I see.” You sat up, taking your cup and turning it over in your hands. “What does it do?”

He did not say anything for a second, brow furrowing. He looked back in your direction, holding out his hand. “Give me your cup.”

You did.

He set the cup down on the table. Slowly, as though it had been set in a pool of water, the cup began to float upwards. “My ability,” he explained simply, clearly taking pride in the way your eyes lit up in excitement and awe, “allows me to manipulate gravity for any object I touch.”

You reached out towards the cup, moving your hand above and below it. If there was a trick to what he was doing, you had no idea what it was. “That is so freakin’ cool,” you gushed softly. “How can you keep it from flying away?”

He was practically glowing. “Basically, I’m counteracting the force of Earth’s gravity for just this object by creating a second center of gravity that only affects the cup.” He pointed to a spot near the center of cup. “It’s around here. So long as the force of the gravitational field I'm creating is greater than Earth’s, the cup will naturally try and be as close to the center as possible. If the gravitational pull were too strong, the cup would go through that point–” he pointed towards the ceiling, “-- and through the roof before coming back down. But if the force is weak, it’ll stay right around the center.”

You took the cup, moving it towards you before letting go. As if attached to a string, the cup moved back to its place, the water inside is sloshing.

The pure, childlike joy on your face was enough for the man across from you to forget, for a moment, the price of his gift.

The date continued on. The two of you went back and forth on a variety of simple, surface level topics. You learned that Chuuya was a dog person and that he enjoyed fashion. He said he had been in Yokohama practically all his life. He told you about his coworkers– no details, but enough to get a sense for the type of Motley Crew they were– and how that day was an anniversary for something, though he never got around to telling you what it was an anniversary of. At one point, before your food had gotten to the table, you asked about his gloves, which he had apparently not realized he was still wearing. He explained that he wore them all the time– he said it made work easier– but that he did have the good sense to take them off.

“I’m not a monster,” he had insisted. “I don’t want to get food on them.”

The conversation was surprisingly easy. He was nervous at first and clearly inexperienced– an observation that you chose to keep to yourself– but funny and over dramatic in a way that made the discussions flow jovially between the two of you. He was a sailor-mouthed, irreverent, sensitive man, you found, and he seemed to take great pleasure in your company and a surprising interest in the more tedious parts of your life: your occupation, your friends, your earlier life, all of which he found strangely fascinating. Though you knew little of substance about him by the end of the meal you shared, you could not shake the feeling that the sort of things you learned– the simple, stupid things most people gave out as icebreakers– held more weight than you could understand.

But you were grateful, nonetheless. You enjoyed talking to him.

Despite your protests, he paid for the both of you, and the two of you left the restaurant cracking up over some embarrassing story about school.

“Three days straight?”

You waved him off, laughter still bubbling from your throat. “I know; it was stupid!” you cried. “I swear I was possessed; by the end of it I thought there was a chance– assuming I didn’t have heart attack first– that I was immortal.” You sighed, trying to regain composure; you were gigglier than normal. “But I passed the class, so fuck that guy.”

He set his hat back on his head, pushing it down to rest snugly. “Fuck that guy,” he agreed, having about as much success as you did in wiping the stupid smile off his face. “God– being a teenager fucking sucked.”

“Dude, amen to that.” You looked in his direction, tears from the cold and from excessive laughter in your eyes. “Chuuya,” you sighed happily, “I am having an excellent time.”

“What a coincidence,” he grinned. “So am I.”

You looked up at the sky, which was significantly darker than you thought it would be; you supposed that you had spent more time in the restaurant than you thought. “I shouldn’t walk back to the station any later on my own, though.” You slipped your hands into your own pockets. “So–”

“Can you stand to be out later if I can get you back to the train?” He cleared his throat, apparently hearing the eagerness in his voice as clearly as you did. It was the same eagerness he had when he first asked you here. “What time is it?”

You took your phone from your coat, flipping it open. “Nine-ish.”

“Nine?” He pursed his lips. “Shit, I— no, I can make that work.” He leaned his weight onto one side. “I have to get somewhere at eleven, but it’s not a formal thing.” He looked away, swallowing. “If you want to, I mean.”

You held out your hand to him. “Nothing in this moment would make me happier than spending more of my time with you, Chuuya.” You wiggled your fingers in invitation. “Where should we go?”

He was staring at you, at your body bathed in the warm light streaming from the restaurant’s windows, at your face which betrayed nothing but pure intentions, to your hand which you offered him freely. He wondered if you knew how easy it would be to kill you if he touched you. He wondered if that was something someone like you considered at all.

“Chuuya?”

He blinked, clearing his throat. It did not matter. He took your hand. “Sorry.” He was breathless. “Lost in thought.”

You let him pull you closer, nudging him playfully with your side. “You’ll end up swallowing a fly if you keep your mouth open like that,” you teased. “Do you really like looking at me that much?”

He straightened up, heat flushing his cheeks. “So what if I do?”

“Well, I don’t imagine it’d taste very good.”

He snorted. “Shut up.” He nudged you back, looking forward. “We can sit by the river for a while if you’d like; the streets will be sketchy here pretty soon but nobody goes by the part of the river we’re by.”

“Really? How come?”

He shrugged. “It’s impractical. Nobody important goes to the river, anyway.”

“Nobody important?”

“Huh? Oh, right; you’re not from around here.” He looked back in the direction of the river, starting to lead the two of you there. “The Port Mafia doesn’t dump bodies into the rivers; they throw them out by the dock.”

“The mafia?” You started. “What, like La Cosa Nostra?”

“What you do and don’t know is really confusing.” He rolled his eyes. “The Port Mafia is a smuggling ring operating primarily out of the city; it has nothing to do with the Italian mob.”

“Oh.” You squeezed his hand, following close behind. “That’s terrifying.”

“It is?”

“To know that people are just chucking bodies frequently enough that you know about it? And that there’s more than one group doing it?” You tittered nervously. “I mean, I’d heard a little about Yokohama, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

He squeezed your hand back, looking over his shoulder in your direction. A wry smile crossed his face. “Huh. That’s funny.”

You walked a bit faster to stay beside him. “What’s funny?”

“That you think it’s weird. I guess it never occurred to me that it was strange.” He tugged you to his side. “You don’t need to be scared, though; I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, will you?”

He shot you a look. “What,” he challenged, “you don’t think I can?”

“I never said that,” you protested. “It was just a very old-fashioned thing to say.” You lowered your voice to a growl. “‘Don’t worry, dollface; I’ll protect you.’ It sounds like something you’d hear in a noir.”

He opened his mouth to argue, considered it. “I guess if you found that weird, that would be an odd thing to say, wouldn’t it?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Because what would you need protecting from?”

“Exactly.”

A funny look came onto his face. “That’s funny,” he repeated. “That’s…” He trailed off, slowing to a stop on the road.

You looked back at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just that…” Startling eyes– they seemed to shine under the streetlamps– met yours. “You said you stayed up for three days straight,” he said. “Do you sleep well now?”

You looked away. “I don’t know if I sleep well, exactly; I don’t sleep as much as I should, at least.”

“But it feels normal, doesn’t it? To not sleep much?”

“I suppose.” You turned to face him properly.

His gaze shifted from you to the sky. “You know, I just remembered something.” He started to walk again, pulling you behind. “When I was little, none of us– none of the people I hung out with– had much pocket money, so we made a game out of stealing from the convenience stores in town. The competition was to see who could pay for as little as possible without getting banned from the store. I was never really good at it because I was an easy to read kid, but I remember always going for those… what do you call them? Bonbons?” He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “The little wrapped chocolates. I’d always shove one into my pocket because they were always left out and who’s going to give a kid shit for taking a piece of candy?”

You followed beside him quietly, watching him.

He continued. “The other day,” he said, “I went into a convenience store for the ATM, and I must have withdrawn twenty thousand yen or something like that– a good amount. I bought a pack of gum before I left because I didn’t want to be the asshole that just uses an ATM and leaves, and I realized– I think I’d walked a block away when I did– that I had one of those candies in my pocket.” He led you off the path. “I guess I must’ve picked it up while I was paying for the gum. They weren’t even the good chocolates; they were the hundred yen ones, and I knew why I’d grabbed that piece– because nobody’s going to lose their mind over a hundred whatever yen– but I couldn’t for the life of me remember why I’d grabbed it.”

The two of you came to a stop by the riverbed. It was quiet for a Saturday. The water shone under the moonlight, and the man beside you– whose gaze was now transfixed by the reflection– stood next to you, seemingly lost in thought.

You never let go of his hand. “Being a kid kinda sucks,” you said, running your thumb over his clothed knuckles. “You usually don’t have many responsibilities, but you don’t know enough to know what you should and shouldn’t get involved with.”

He looked to you.

“And you get so jealous of the Huck Finn kids– you know the type: no responsibilities, nobody to tell them no– until you get older and realize– too late– that the habits you picked up when you were left to your own devices probably weren’t the healthiest, but by the time you put that together they’re so deeply encoded in your being that they’re a part of who you are and part of how you got this far, so even if they’re unhealthy it’s not like you can give them up now.” You shivered. “It’s frustrating, looking back and thinking about what you could’ve been.”

The two of you stood there, staring at the water. Chuuya wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying, in vain, to keep you from the cold.

Finally, he spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of conversation with anyone before.”

You closed your eyes, leaning against him. “It’s funny,” you said. “I don’t think I have either.”

His voice was soft. “I want to see you again.”

“So do I.”

“Then we should.”

“We should.”

You did.

64 notes · View notes

seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

Many thoughts...

Love at first sight, it was. But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it? What did he know about raising a little girl? What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe?

just that he is questions this, shows how much he cares about her 🫶🏻

Cecilia had stopped over a lot in the beginning, had soothed his fears. Had reassured him that love was enough, that he was doing a good job. He was kind and well-meaning, and you had been a smart kid who became a smart woman, and on the balance, he would have agreed with Cecilia and said he did alright.

Awesome job right there👏🏻

For the first time in his life, Rhett truly considers his future. What his life may look like in five, ten, twenty years. Will he always wake to grey mornings that sit on his chest like a stone? Will he become bitter and mean, the way his father has despite having a wife and sons and a granddaughter?

Uff he truly doesn't have the best role model..

Then, on top of the annoyance, another layer of shame. Of course you run. The death of your parents left you with that wound, the inability to handle hurt in a healthy way. You flee and tuck yourself in a corner, tend your wounds alone. It’s a flaw, but it’s understandable why you do it.

Very understandable reaction especiallywith that backstory..

Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too. He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear. Instead, he only cemented it further.

💔💔💔

It’s easy to blame Rhett when Wyatt eats dinner alone each night. When he runs a vacuum over the floor of your bedroom, keeps it dust free like you may turn up any day and take your place back on the family ranch. When he studies the row of family photos on the mantle, sees his sister’s face and feels like he’s failed her in the care of her daughter.

He misses her so much 🥺

But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces. He doesn’t seek him out at all. Rhett comes to him.

👀

“You never fucking think, do you? Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit. You—” The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning. His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins. Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes, opens them. He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.

Wyatts anger is very understandable and valid, but it seem to penetrate even Rhett’s drunken state

“Make it her.” It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree. He unclenches his fists, holds them looser. “What the fuck you trying to say?” Rhett coughs, sways. Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies. “Make it hurt. Make sh…sure. Make sure it hurts.” Wyatt’s fists uncurl more. “Now what are you—” “Am. Piece of shit. I am.” The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright. “Y’right. Imma piece a’shit.” He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks. Like I used to.

💔😭💔😭💔

Maybe Wyatt only fell into fatherhood because of a tragedy, but he gets more of it right than he will ever give himself credit for. He faces the kid, and when the kid comes swinging at him again, spoiling for a beat-down Wyatt will never deliver after all, Wyatt only opens his arms and lets Rhett step into them. The kid struggles for a beat but he’s drunk, and he seems tired down to his soul. It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life. And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.

Wyatt gives Rhett the hug he himself needed years ago 😭🥺

Wyatt is never sure the right way to tell you that Rhett Abbott is currently crashing with him. A month passes and then another, and he starts to feel guilty that the kid who broke your heart has been living down the hall from your childhood bedroom, sitting at your kitchen table. That he parks his truck beside yours, and that he’s caught the kid—more than once—lingering by your bedroom door, lingering by your truck, like your ghost might manifest if he stands still enough.

That's a tough spot..

I can’t be mad about it, you write back. How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home?

I guess you deserve a stray of your own. Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-)

You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.

That's so cute, they have such a beautiful relationship 🥰

Wyatt grins when he reads your email, then glances over at where Rhett is sitting on the couch, watching TV. The kid does act like a stray; he cringes the barest bit if Wyatt moves too suddenly or too close to him, but like a stray, he relishes the comfort of a warm home, food in his belly, and even the tamest praise.

He really is a stray 🤭

Got it from my uncle.

🥹🥹🥹

Wyatt won’t know it until years from now, when he’s an old man and Rhett has grey in his own hair, but this stretch of time—the two men working and living together—is when Rhett starts to learn how to be a man. That Wyatt is the gruff but kind, slightly awkward father-figure Rhett always needed.

I'm so glad Rhett gets the chance to experience this kind of relationship and space to grow 🥹

Heart of gold, indeed. It makes Wyatt tear up, first from so much pride it feels like his chest might burst, then from that knife edge of grief that his sister isn’t here to see what a force for good her daughter turned into.

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

“Nah. I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel. Dislike, maybe. Disappointment. Not hate.” “She should hate me. I deserve it.”

He is so hard on himself 🥺

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, you know. Sounds fucking stupid, but at the time, I didn’t even realize what I was doing to her.” Rhett glances over at the man, fixes his eyes back on the floor. “Looking back, it felt like I was sleepwalking through that summer, and now I’m awake and see all the damage I did.” “Damned if I know. But take it from me, kid. I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely. Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right. Now it’s been years and it’s far too late. So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”

I love their honest and open conversations 🥰

Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction. “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”

They truly are 🫶🏻🥹

You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it? It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too. “He is,” Wyatt admits. “We’re watching the football game.” There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two. “Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him. He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.

🥹🥹🥹

“In that case, Uncle Wyatt, work him into the ground,” you joke back, and Wyatt turns his phone back to him this time, and Rhett is left with perhaps a bit more than a sliver of hope. He leans back on the couch and thinks that yes, maybe he can salvage this after all. Maybe trying his best will be enough.

I'm sure it will 🥹🫶🏻

I absolutely loved this story and the relationship Rhett and Wyatt built, truly beautiful 🥰

Kind of a Sh*thead

(Rhett Abbott x F!Reader)

CW: Angst; family-type healing; allusions to and threat of violence; bit of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5256

AN: This was originally requested by @elegantmusicdragon from a long-ago Christmas prompt list: "trying to hide their sadness during the christmas celebration" from the sad christmas prompts? Definitely angst...maybe with a little hope at the end?"

AN: This is the next piece in the "Mending Fences" miniseries, found here.

It will shame Rhett in the future, how long it takes for him to realize what has happened.

That night at the bar, he sat waiting for you: nursing a beer, his eyes on the door, ready to get a little loose with you and maybe head out to the open range and fool around.

Then Maria appeared in front of him. Like magic. Like an angel spirited back to Wabang and right in front of him. It threw him off completely, his world tilting sideways He found himself dazzled by the fact that the girl he pined over for years was suddenly in front of him, smiling, laughing, touching his arm and squeezing his bicep while he subtly flexed it under her fingers.

It wasn’t until last call that Rhett surfaced for a moment, the spell lifting for long enough to remember he was supposed to meet you, yet you were nowhere to be found.

She must have been held over late at work, he reasoned, and even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie.

It will shame Rhett in the future, but it will take months before he really feels that shame. He’ll find out you left early for school, but by then, he will be entirely wrapped in the magic of Maria, dumb with lust and love that he thinks is finally reciprocated. He'll send you a handful of texts, bland little things that you read but don’t respond to.

Months later, when Wabang is sliding fast to a cold winter and Maria is gone again, disappeared as quickly as she appeared, Rhett will feel shame.

And you’ll be long gone.

*****

Wyatt wishes he knew what he was doing. Hell, he’d be happy for an inkling.

When his sister and brother-in-law died, he didn’t even hesitate to step up and take his niece in. No brainer. Blood is blood, but Wyatt loved his sister something fierce, and taking you in was like holding on to a part of her even if she was gone.

Didn’t hurt that Wyatt loved you for you. That he had loved you from the first time his sister set you in his arms, a bundle only a few days old. You’d set your wide eyes on him and blinked sleepily, then puked up a torrent of milk on him that reeked something fierce.

Love at first sight, it was.

But hell, love wasn’t enough, was it? What did he know about raising a little girl? What did he know of walking that tricky line between being overprotective and being too blasé, of giving you space but making you feel safe?

Nothing about this feels alright, though.

Wyatt always guessed it was Rhett Abbott who left you stranded at that hotel when you were a senior in high school. Little fucker skulked around that entire summer, scampered away like a cat with a lit tail when he saw Wyatt coming. Something had happened between the two of you.

When you came back to Wabang finally, you took up with the little fucker again, and Wyatt thought maybe he had been unkind. Ungenerous. He tried to be nicer to Rhett, but the kid barely ever mets his eyeline.

What the hell, Wyatt thought. The Abbotts can be a squirrelly bunch. As long as he doesn’t hurt her.

All those years ago at the hotel, Wyatt was never sure who it was that left you stranded and tear-streaked. This time, though?

You confirmed it that evening when you got home, eyes unseeing as you charged past him, thundered up the stairs, started packing. When he confronted you, you burst into tears and spilled the entire sorry affair.

You and Rhett, hanging out all summer. You in love, and Rhett…not. Not with you, anyway.

Wyatt wasn’t stupid. When you said hanging out, he could guess what you meant.

Seeing his niece hurt like that made him see red, but he has a modicum of maturity, which means he bides his time in most things.

*****

Maria’s been gone for months.

You’ve been gone for longer.

Winter in Wyoming is no joke. Wabang gets less snow than other parts, but the wind cuts marrow-deep, and the days are short, grey affairs. The holidays could be a break from the doldrums, but Royal has been on a tear lately, lighting into Rhett for every little thing, so Thanksgiving, then Christmas are tense and joyless.

He sends you texts. Little one-liners, asking how you are, saying he misses you. He tries to feel you out, but you leave him on read and never respond.

Once, he gets blisteringly drunk and tries to call. You don’t pick up, and he doesn’t leave a message.

By now, the shame has settled into him and made itself at home.

He can guess that you came by the bar that night. He can guess that you saw him and Maria, and that’s what caused you to flee. Layered on top of the shame is an annoyance with you and your knack for running. He may be an asshole but you’re a child to run and hide when shit gets tough.

Rhett had been your best friend, and for the briefest summer, he was your lover too. He should have been the one person to help you work through that fear. Instead, he only cemented it further.

*****

March. The leaden skies start to take on some blue, high up in the atmosphere. The sun burns a little warmer. The barnyard thaws into a swamp, and Wyatt has to handle the anxious animals, pawing and snorting and half-mad from a winter of cabin fever.

March is a tough month, though, because you call and tell him you aren’t coming back to Wabang for the summer. You got a coveted internship with a specialty vet hospital in the city, and while Wyatt knows it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you, it’s far easier to blame that fucking asshole Abbott boy.

He’s not irrational about it. He knows he has to let you fly and trust you’ll return. Vet training is a long process—it’s not like you went off to Cheyenne for a handful of bookkeeping courses. He knows, deep-down, you would have always left for your schooling.

Still, that fucking Abbott boy has built up a tab, in Wyatt’s eyes. March is when that tab comes due.

-----

He knows the boy drinks at the Double Deuces. It’s common gossip how he overdoes it and either gets ornery with the Tillerson’s or pukes himself silly in the parking lot. There’s whispers of the fights between Royal and the boy, how the elder Abbott is tired of bailing out his youngest son, though no one would ever accuse Royal of having any patience, especially where Rhett is concerned.

If it were anyone else—any other dickhead young buck—Wyatt would chuckle in sympathy. He used to do the same when he was younger. He knows what the Wabang drunk tank looks like. Hell, maybe his name is still there—he scratched it into the pea-green paint of the wall decades back to commemorate his first overnight stay.

But Wyatt doesn’t confront Rhett at the Double Deuces. He doesn’t seek him out at all.

Rhett comes to him.

It’s a Saturday night, and Wyatt is lazing in front of the TV, watching the recaps of the week’s basketball games. He’s half-asleep when he hears the heavy, scuffing tread of boots on his porch, then a thumping fist at the door.

When he peeks out of the window to see who it is, it’s the fucking asshole. Rhett sways unsteady on his feet. Wyatt opens the door, and he can smell the reek of cheap beer and brown liquor. When he peers out farther, he can see where the fucking asshole parked his truck, half in the driveway and half in the yard, the tires sunk deep in the soft spring turf.

“You drive here like that?” Wyatt asks, though it’s obvious.

The kid nods.

Wyatt sighs, scrubs his hand over his jaw. “Tell me you came from next door. Tell me you were drinking at home and not out on the roads fucking loaded.”

Rhett stares at him, his eyes bleary and blood-shot, his blinks slow and deliberate. “Came from t’bar,” he slurs.

“Fucking prick.” Wyatt breathes it out.

His vision wavers for a moment, the rage that courses through him is so hot and sudden. He moves towards the kid just as Rhett sways towards him, and in a blink, Wyatt finds his hands on him, his sweat-dampened t-shirt twisted in his fists. This close, the beer fumes make his eyes water, and when Wyatt studies the kid’s face, he sees blank stupefaction.

“You fucking little prick.” He pivots, turns, hauls Rhett away from the front door, down off the porch. He half-drags, half-carries him, and once they are on the soft grass of the front yard, Wyatt shoves him away.

“Stupid, selfish. So fucking selfish.” The rage feels good, like a narcotic in his veins. “You could have killed someone, driving like this.”

“I didn’t…” Rhett sways on his feet, struggles to get his balance. “Didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t t-think—”

Wyatt is on him again, his hands firm on Rhett’s chest as he shoves him in earnest, sends the kid stumbling back on his ass. “You never fucking think, do you? Jesus fucking Christ, my sister…her husband…they were killed by a fucking drunk driver, and you have the fucking balls to…you asshole…you fucking piece of shit. You—”

But he can’t even finish. His sister and brother-in-law, your parents. Years ago now, but the pain is still fresh, a keen edge of a knife blade that takes his breath away. It was after a rodeo, a random Saturday. One stupid fucking decision and Wyatt lost his family, you lost your parents, and the rest of the world had the bad taste to keep on going.

There’s a roadside memorial on the road out of Wabang that marks the site of the crash. It makes that knife blade of grief twist in Wyatt’s gut every time he sees it.

Anger—rage—is such a close neighbor to grief. Grief is something one has to feel, but anger? That’s something to embrace, to lean into. To do.

Wyatt advances on Rhett, his big fists opening and closing as the kid struggles to get back on his feet. Wyatt wants to beat the shit out of him, wants to see him bruised and bloodied on the ground: for hurting you years ago, for hurting you more recently, and now this. For taking his life and the life of anyone else on the road into his own stupid, selfish hands.

Rhett manages to find his knees, and he kneels in the grass but can seem to get no further. Wyatt towers over him.

“Get up,” he orders. His voice is low, deadly, and his tone must penetrate the booze-fog because the kid tilts his head up and looks at him.

“Get up,” he repeats. “Get up and face it like a man.”

Rhett only manages a dumbfounded, “huh?”

“You wanna drive a big truck like a big man? Drink at the Double D’s like a big fucking man? You wanna fuck around with my niece and break her fucking heart like a big man? So stand up and take what’s coming to you like a man.”

The kid seems to track Wyatt’s meaning. His bleary eyes clear a fraction and fix on where Wyatt’s fists wait, eager to offer some payback for his sins. Rhett nods, as if to himself, and he takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes, opens them. He struggles to stand, staggers a little, but eventually finds his feet.

“Make it her.” It comes out one slurred word, makeither, and Wyatt’s anger cools by the barest degree. He unclenches his fists, holds them looser.

“What the fuck you trying to say?”

Rhett coughs, sways. Coughs again, then enunciates, clarifies.

“Make it hurt. Make sh…sure. Make sure it hurts.”

Wyatt’s fists uncurl more. “Now what are you—”

“Am. Piece of shit. I am.” The kid sways more but takes a wide step, braces his legs wide to keep himself upright. “Y’right. Imma piece a’shit.”

As quickly as Wyatt’s rage came on him, it flees him just as fast. He sees it just as clear as day, how Rhett Abbott ain’t a man. He’s just a boy playing at it, fucking up as he goes. Wyatt knows as well as anyone the sort of father the kid has, Royal Abbott is no model of what a man should be.

The kid standing in front of him is just a hurt animal: hurt by his own father, hurt by his own behavior because he has no idea how to not take out his hurt on others.

He waves his hand at the kid, a dismissive gesture, and he starts to turn away. He is halfway back to the house when he hears the kid coming for him, feels the weak glancing blow of the punch that has no aim or power because the kid is too drunk.

He wants to be punished, he thinks as he turns back around to face Rhett. He knows Royal is hard on his youngest son, can guess that the kid’s been knocked around plenty. His own father…well, he keeps that buried in the past, but sometimes it pops up like a bad penny. Like now.

He wants to be hurt because it’s the only thing he knows, he thinks. Like I used to.

It only takes a moment for the kid to stop struggling in Wyatt’s bear-hug, then sag against him in exhaustion, then weep in dry, barking sobs that feel like they’ve been building up for his entire life. And Wyatt knows exactly what sort of pain the kid is bleeding out because it was his pain, and his sister’s too, until they both fled their unhappy childhood home and made a happier one here on this ranch.

“Christ almighty,” Wyatt says after the kid calms. He doesn’t let him go—he only gets an arm around his shoulders, and he leads him inside.

No sense sending him home to his father. He’s here now, so he might as well sleep it off on the couch.

-----

It’s less than a month before Rhett returns. Maybe a handful of weeks later, the kid turns up on Wyatt’s step, sheepish. Looking small.

Wyatt will never be clear exactly why Rhett and Royal fall out so terrifically. Who can say? The Abbotts can be squirrelly fucking assholes, back to Royal’s father and probably even further back, but Rhett finds himself kicked out with nowhere to go.

He takes the couch for a night, but the next day, Wyatt thrusts some fresh sheets in the kid’s arms and directs him to the guest room down the hall. Past your bedroom.

“Might sleep better in an actual bed,” he tells the kid, his voice gruff.

“I’ll be out as soon as I can.” Rhett’s ears burn red in shame. “Just gotta line up a place.”

“No rush.”

“Seriously, I’ll—”

“I got plenty of room. You ain’t putting me out.”

-----

Every time you call. Each Facetime. Wyatt wants to say something and doesn’t.

Wyatt ends up taking the coward’s way out: he sends you an email. Keeps it short and sweet, apologizes for not saying anything sooner. He alludes to the situation between father and son, but clarifies that Rhett is in no way forgiven for how he treated you. It’s just that the kid needed a soft place to land, and he had the ability to help, so he felt it was his God-given duty to do so.

But I can ask him to leave, if you want, he writes. If it makes you uncomfortable. You’ll always be my first and top priority, kiddo.

It takes you two days to reply, but that means nothing. You have a brutal schedule and often go radio silent for stretches of time. When you do reply, it makes Wyatt smile.

I can’t be mad about it, you write back. How many times did you look the other way when I brought a stray home? I guess you deserve a stray of your own. Might want to take him in for his shots though. :-)

You got a heart of gold, kiddo, Wyatt texts you, and your response is immediate.

Got it from my uncle.

-----

Through the summer and autumn, the two men fall into a rhythm. It isn’t so bad living with the kid, once he starts to get his sea-legs under him. Once he starts to feel like the bottom won’t drop out. Rhett puts in an honest day’s work on the ranch, and Wyatt pays him. The first time he presses money on the kid, he tries to push it away, embarrassed at what he thinks is more charity on top of the charity of room and board…

“You work for me, you work for me,” Wyatt said, blunt. “Means you get paid by me. Take it or leave.”

There are lessons embedded in their days working the ranch. The lessons ease Rhett out of the fog of his life, the strange liminal space of being in his early twenties but still just a kid.

When Rhett royally fucks up a stretch of fencing, ruins a day of work. Wyatt only grunts, shakes his head, then claps Rhett on the back.

“You can either take the time to plan out a job, or plan on doing the job twice,” is all he says, and he guesses that Royal would have belted his son into the dirt for such an error.

When Wyatt tasks Rhett with a simple rewiring job in the barn, replacing some light fixtures, and the kid has no idea where to even start. He spends half the day sweating about it, a sick feeling churning in his stomach, until he decides to throw up the white flag and admit he has no experience working with electrical fixtures.

“Well, hell, kid. Why didn’t you say something?” Wyatt jerks his chin towards the barn. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

When at the rodeo, Rhett is tossed from the bull within seconds, a humiliating display. Afterwards, his body bruised but his ego far worse off, Wyatt only chuckles at him, says life will throw you off like that sometimes and it’s the getting back up that shows character.

“You got back up,” he tells Rhett. “That means something.”

“Means I didn’t want to get trampled,” he grumbles.

“Still means something.”

-----

Always, though, there’s the specter of you.

Wyatt catches the kid standing in the doorway of your bedroom sometimes still. Peering in at the time capsule of your stuff: the clothes you’ve left behind, the framed photos, the beat-to-shit stuffed bear on your bed.

Wyatt mentions you in passing, but he never brings up that long-ago night at the hotel or your sudden flight from Wabang the summer before. He guesses Rhett already feels terrible all the time, so why bother bringing it up and make it worse?

The kid eventually broaches the subject all on his own, just as winter descends on Wabang again. It’s been over a year since either of them have seen you in person, though Wyatt Facetimes you at least once a week.

Rhett makes himself scarce during those calls, but Wyatt’s always had the impression he’s not far off, maybe straining to make out your voice through the wall.

In early December, you break the news that you aren’t coming home for the holiday break. Wyatt would suspect that Rhett might be the reason, but your eyes practically glitter with excitement as you talk about a massive stray animal sweep you’ve helped plan, a Christmas-into-New Years take-to-the-streets movement to find and rescue as many street dogs and cats as you can. You’ve been working with local Girl Scouts to build feral cat cold-weather shelters, and you’ve been raising money and donations, and you’ve built a strong foster network, and local clinics are ready to spay and neuter and administer vaccines—

When Wyatt breaks the news to Rhett later, though, the kid sorta deflates, and that’s when he brings it up himself.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbles. “She’ll never come back if I’m here.”

“Not true.” Wyatt goes to the refrigerator and snags two bottles of beer, then hands one off to Rhett. He settles in his easy chair and studies the kid. “You know she loves animals. She’ll come back eventually.”

“She hates me.”

“Nah. I don’t know if hate is something she can even feel. Dislike, maybe. Disappointment. Not hate.”

“She should hate me. I deserve it.”

And then it spills out, one clipped sentence at a time. The entire history of you two, from best friends in childhood to passing acquaintances to an awkward moment in a hotel that Wyatt now knows was not actual sex but just some fooling around that ended in a cruel words. When Rhett gets to the part of the story about your summer together, Wyatt holds up a palm, says, “yeah, don’t want the details at all,” and Rhett slouches against the couch and sighs.

Wyatt chuckles sadly. He knows the feeling. He has his own hurt women in his past, experienced the same sort of heartless sleepwalking.

The kid shakes his head and continues. “Wasn’t worth it. Maria, I mean. I don’t even know what I saw in her.

“You were thinking with the wrong brain,” he tells Rhett. Wyatt may have no lost love for Maria Olivaries, but he’d admit she was a pretty gal. He could see why the boys went a little stupid around her.

“Wasn’t thinkin’ at all.” He says your name, a sigh in his mouth, then adds, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Look.” Wyatt sets his empty beer bottle aside, leans forward. “You gotta try to make it right with her. How you square it up is up to you. Maybe she’ll forgive you, maybe she won’t, but you gotta make an honest try at it.”

“How?”

“Damned if I know. But take it from me, kid. I had a girl when I was your age, and I fucked it up completely. Even once I realized how badly I fucked up, I was too proud to try and set it right. Now it’s been years and it’s far too late. So you gotta try, so even if she never forgives you, it’ll set right in your chest that you did everything you could.”

Rhett stares at him for a long beat, then nods. Then there’s a beat of glassiness in his eyes, near-tears, that Rhett blinks away almost angrily before he turns and clears his throat.

“I don’t mean to, you know. I don’t mean to be a piece of shit,” he says, his voice rough-edged.

“Aw hell, kid.” Wyatt heaves himself out of his chair and starts to make his way back to the kitchen for another beer. He stops in front of where Rhett sits, slouched over, and he lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit,” he tells him. “I just think you’re kind of a shithead.”

Rhett snorts. “What’s the difference?”

“First one is a lost cause,” Wyatt says. “Second one is just an idiot trying to do his best. Like most of us.”

*****

Christmas day at a bachelor’s ranch is not as sad as it might seem.

Wyatt brings in a tree but they only throw some lights on it to give it a bit of cheer. They build a fire in the fireplace, exchange no gifts, settle in and watch the football games.

Christmas dinner is a pot of Wyatt’s ulcer-inducing chili and a pan of cornbread. Cecelia drops by in the morning with a plate of cookies and a handful of gifts for Rhett, but it’s just the two guys for most of the day.

Until you call to Facetime your uncle.

You take Rhett unawares; you call off-schedule. You usually call in the evening but this is the afternoon, and Wyatt mutes the football game and take the call from the couch. Rhett starts to stand up, but the man waves him to sit back down. No need to hide out like he usually does.

So Rhett gets a full accounting of your life from you directly. He can hear your voice, and you sound like you have a sore throat. You tell your uncle about your big rescue mission, how it’s bitterly cold in the city but how you’ve saved so many dogs, so many cats, and how you can’t wait to head back out after you warm up a bit.

“I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas,” you tell Wyatt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Your uncle glances over at Rhett, nods in his direction. “We’re doing okay for a couple of guys.”

“You decorate a tree?”

“Just string lights.”

“The prettiest part of a tree anyway. What about dinner?”

“Chili.”

You laugh, and the sound makes Rhett smile – when was the last time he heard it?

“Happy Birthday, Jesus. Here’s some indigestion,” you joke.

“Good thing the kid went to Costco and got a gallon bucket of Pepto,” Wyatt jokes back.

It draws another laugh, which makes Rhett laugh, which makes you stop and ask your uncle if Rhett is there too.

“He is,” Wyatt admits. “We’re watching the football game.”

There’s a beat of silence from you that seems to stretch out forever but is probably only a second or two.

“Merry Christmas, Rhett,” you say, and Wyatt hesitates, then tilts the screen so Rhett can see you and you can see him. He almost doesn’t want to look but he can’t help himself.

You’re smiling at him. Not as broadly as you usually smile when you’re delighted in something or someone, but it’s a medium-sized one that touches the corners of your eyes.

It’s genuine.

It’s a place to start. It’s a sliver of hope. It’s not a door slamming shut in his face but a door left ajar by a fraction, and maybe Rhett can toe it open if he can just find the right way to try and square things up with you. It’s confirmation that he’s not a piece of shit, just kind of a shithead, and if he tries his best, maybe that will be enough.

“Merry Christmas,” he replies, and if you notice the gruffness in his voice, you don’t react.

“Thanks.”

Wyatt holds his phone there a moment, starts to turn it back to him, but Rhett blurts out, “be careful out there, okay?” so Wyatt turns it back.

Your smile grows the barest bit. “Will do.” A pause. “Don’t let my uncle work you too hard.”

A toe in the door. A sliver of hope. The fire snaps in the fireplace and the string lights twinkle on the tree, and Rhett may be an idiot just trying his best, but maybe that’s enough.

“I barely work at all,” he jokes. “Gotta leave plenty of work for you when you come back.”

It makes you chuckle. It’s not a laugh, but it’s something.

Maybe trying his best will be enough.

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hitmehardnsofttt · 9 hours ago

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Nice Mover | (Sub!?)Vi Arcane x Reader

FYI: female reader x vi arcane, modern au, smut with brief plot, slight fluff, sub!vi, car sex, oral sex, strap sex, lots of swearing (duh), strap referred to as cock, lolz. Enjoy whores!

———————————————————————————

"That movie was actually insane? I doubt I’m going to be able to think about anything else tonight. And if I catch one person fucking "smiling at me", so help me god." Vi shouts. You hold back a laugh as you grab her car door opening it for her, your focus always on her.

Got a strange feeling I’m about to take her mind off things.

She wasn't the biggest horror movie fan, and you knew that, but you lived for the shit. So yeah, you had to do some groveling to get her to agree to go, but you also promised her something extra special tonight if she went with you.

After she'd had enough of complaining about Smile 2, you both climb back into your green jeep.

You had removed the back seats in your jeep last year but earlier today you made sure to take the time to make it extra comfortable back there prior to the date, knowing you had nothing but sinful pleasures planned for her later.

I mean she did say she wanted to try this out during that drinking game of Never Have I Ever we played at that party last weekend...

You started the car and began to roll up the heavily tinted windows.

"Why are you rolling the windows all the way up? Are we not going to smoke on the way ho-?"

But, before she can finish her question, you slam your lips onto hers. Fiercely. Ferociously. Almost frenzied. Your breath catches everytime you kiss her perfectly heart shaped lips.

You grab Vi's spiky short fucsia colored hair, slowly tugging it and moving her in the direction you want her. It doesn't take long for her to notice you're not holding back like you usually do, normally too racked with nerves to initiate things.

She pulls away from you to catch a breath. Her big blue eyes scanning you curiously. You can see her perked pierced nipples peeking through her tank now.

"That was....u-unexpected. Hot. But,unexpected. What are you up to?" She asks, raising a single brow. “And what if someone sees us?” She asks looking around you and outside of the car.

Your eyes fill with lust just at the site of her, making it hard to focus on anything else.

"You know my windows are tinted but if they want to see us that badly...let them. Get in the back, now." You insist nodding your head in that direction.

Vi chuckles in response but makes quick work to hop over the middle console and to the back. You follow her.

"Why's it like a hotel back here? Did you do this for me?" she chuckles, lightening the mood as she always does. Never one to take herself too seriously.

That sly grin that's always plastered on her face turns into her jaw slowly dropping as she watches you seductively remove your clothes along with the pink underwear you wore, just for her.

You dangle them like a treat as you spread your legs for her. Putting on a show. Her eyes fill with the most intense lust you've seen from her thus far.

"I thought... hmmm.. i don't know you.. you might be hungry after all that.. stress..ya know..from the movie." you tease her as you reach down to your folds, putting yourself fully on display for her.

She noticeably licks her lips.

"Good girl, come here," you assert as you beckon her closer with a single finger.

Within seconds Vi's tongue is deep inside of you. Your hips involuntarily grinding with each stroke of her tongue in attempt to get her even deeper inside. She works her way up to your clit. Her eyes locked onto yours. She expertly swirls circles around it with her tongue at first, then sucking it, then stroking it between her two long fingers.

“I love that you’re so wet for me sweet girl,” Vi says before turning her attention back to your slick folds, and then back on your clit.

“Only for you,” you reply, eyes fixated on her.

You swear you feel her smile in response. Her skillful tongue works tirelessly flicking back and forth. Vi's able to draw out sounds from you that you've never even heard yourself make before and the faster she goes, the louder you moan. Your back arches instinctively against the floor.

"Vi, fuck, just like - that, like t-that, yes.” You reach down with both hands, grabbing her head and tilting it up for just a second.

"You look so fucking pretty down there... Are you gonna let me cum on your face, beautiful?" You ask with a slight whine to your tone.

Vi dizzily smiles at you in response and nods. The taste of you seemingly intoxicating to her.

Her tongue departs her swollen pink lips as you hold her head steady while using her tongue to get yourself over the edge. Her little nose hoop ever so slightly brushing your clit as you grind your sopping wet slit against her. Up and down. The windows are fogged, the noises of her soaking up every drop of you drowned out by Gina X Performace's 'Nice Mover' playing from the car speakers. The feeling in your stomach starts to become overwhelming. Vi easily slips her fingers inside of you, curling three of her lengthy digits up towards your g spot.

"F-fuck, fuuuuuck, f-, Vi! Yes, yes, yes-mhmm-holy f-" You try to move back but the entire bottom half of your body begins to twitch.

Vi lays on top of you as your orgasm starts to unfold. Her fingers never fully leaving you until you’ve come back down from your high. Only once you open eyes does she take them out.

She sucks on them one by one and teases you with a wink before saying, “You were sooo right babe. I was starving!” she teases with a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Oh yeah? We’ll see who gets the last laugh,” you retort with just a slight grin on your face. You try to flip Vi over, forgetting the small space you’re in and bump your head on the car door.

“Shit!” you whine out. You want to be pissed but you can’t help but laugh because when you look over at Vi, you see a look of concern mixed with holding back laughter. It’s quite amusing.

“Don’t even…” you trail off. She lets out the lightest chuckle while you both work to remove her tank and striped pants.

“Yes ma'am!!" She replies in a playful tone while mockingly saluting you.

You then reach under the driver's seat pulling out your backpack. Her eyes widen as she lets out a nervous snort.

“Oh you’re not fucking around, huh?” she questions.

“Nope,” you reply, moving your body in ways a gymnast would envy to get your strap on in the car.

“Now….lets get you ready for me, huh?” you ask Vi, eyes full of desire.

You scoot back towards the other car door so she has a little space. She looks confused at first but her eyes go wide again when you tell her.. "Show me how you fuck yourself, Vi." your hunger to have her beneath you growing by the minute.

She hesitates for a few seconds. One could almost say she looks shy.

"Do you need me to tell you how, pretty girl?" you ask slightly tilting your head.

But almost as if teasing her made a switch flip, her eyes fill with a look of lust mixed with determination. She locks eyes with you, slowly taking her two middle fingers up to her mouth and sucking on them. She makes sure to make a show of it. Her tongue ring flashing as she circles her tongue around them..

Fuck.

She tip toes her fingers down her fuscia colored happy trail tormentingly slow. She's trying to drive you crazy and it's working.

Once she finally reaches the hood of her clit she spreads it slowly, putting herself fully on display for you.

"Like this, baby?" she asks seductively. It's taking everything in you not to start drooling. So to save some dignity, you nod instead. She works her fingers slowly and expertly around the hood of her budding clit, squeezing it.. swiping up and down...teasing it, never quite touching it directly, but you can see how wet she's growing from where you're sitting.

"That’s my good fucking girl, Vi." you all but moan out. You see her pussy visibly twitch at your words.

Fuck, I can't wait any longer.

"Come here." You instruct.

Vi follows your instructions. She deliberately crawls over to you on her hands and knees, slowly situating herself into your lap just right. You grab her hips and just take her in for a moment. Looking her up and down. Enjoying all of her, in awe of her.

"All these big muscles on the outside, but you're just a little slut on the inside, huh?" you ask Vi playfully.

You earn a laugh from her in response as she leans in to kiss you and you can't help but relish in it. Ever since she kissed you on your second date, you knew she was the type of girl you could kiss forever. You pause for a moment.

"You're so fucking perfect, you know that?" You tell her, swiping your thumb across her "Vi" face tattoo ever so gently.

You lean in and whisper in her ear. "I wanna stretch you...are you ready?" You ask her. She nods hazily in response.

"Up," you instruct.

You combine your saliva and her sweet arousal in your hand to make sure your cock is ready for her. You position yourself ever so precisely as she slowly lowers herself onto its full length. She crashes her lips back onto yours and wraps her tattooed arms around your shoulders as she instinctively starts to grind her hips against you.

Oh poor sweet baby, now she should know we can't let those quads go to waste, now can we?

You grab her hips and stop her and she pulls away from the kiss in response.

“Uh uh.” you say.

"W-w-what? What are you doing?" she replies while trying to catch her breath.

"You didn't think I'd let you get off that easy did you?" you ask with a sly smirk.

You move your head in a single up and down motion while you lock eyes with her. "Bounce." you demand.

Vi tries to read you to to see if you're joking or not. but you hold stern. She then re-positions herself so she's able to move more freely.

Your hands now free to grab her perfect ass while she bounces on top of you.

"You can start slow," you guide her as you watch your length slowly disappear inside of her before reappearing. On her own she slowly starts to pick up the pace. Each bounce causing friction against your own clit that is sure to make you cum soon. Vi's moans are husky, while yours are guttural.

"Awww, look at you creaming all over that cock for me pretty girl, are you close?" Vi instantly nods. You take one hand and wrap it around her neck and use the other to slightly tug on her pierced nipple. She slightly slows her pace but you quickly notice she's bouncing harder than she was before.

"Right….fucking…..there- y-yeah" Vi moans out with hazy lust filled eyes. You would swear you can feel it hitting her g spot.

Your eyes lock onto Vi's but just as they do, she pauses mid thrust, your cock falling out of her by force allowing herself to squirt... all..over..your..lap.

"That's my good fucking girl." you tell Vi. Your own orgasm rapidly nearing as you’re watching her cum.

"F-fuck!" she lets out, throwing her head back. Her legs shaking. You have to make quick work to grab her ass again just to help hold her up.

She's so fucking perfect.

Her legs start to regain their strength and before you know it she's grabbing your cock and placing it back inside of her, grinding on top of you again.

"I'm close, Vi." you let out, holding onto her, no longer trying to act tough.

"I know baby, I know,” she replies. Placing a soft kiss on your lips before she starts bouncing on you again and that's all it takes for you to reach your sweet release. Vi cums again with you, fully falling into your arms with your cock still inside of her. Both of you are left breathless and and fully spent.

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reallyromealone · 7 hours ago

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Part 3 to surprise you’re a dad plz 🥺

Title: surpsie you're a dad 3

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Haitani brothers

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Rindō x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, pregnancy, birth, angst, fluff, good uncle ran

Notes: short chapter low brain energy

Summary: birth and hard conversations

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Six weeks?"

"At minimum" the doctor said simply "and he isn't to lift anything heavier than his pup" Rindō and Ran nodded, glancing at a fast asleep (name) who just finished feeding the tiny baby that was (daughters name), said baby was tucked in Rans arms as Rindō was terrified of holding her.

It had been three hours and Rindō could barely look at his child or his mate, he was terrified.

He didn't know what to do in this situation.

He didn't know how to be a dad!

And Ran was somehow a way better parent figure to his kid and he was an uncle!

Ran watched his brother, he could see the things going on in his head and the stress he was under "you know you got this, right?" Ran said honestly, big brother mode activating while looking at his terrified baby brother, seeing the young boy who he always made sure had a meal on his plate. "Look at her" Ran said simply, gazing at the tiny bundle "this kid is a Haitani, she is one of us and as you're dad it's your duty to be better than ours could ever be" his voice serious while he gently put Rindōs daughter in his arms "she's so small..." Rindō choked out, holding her close and sitting in a chair "she is, even if you and (name) don't work, she will always be a consistent and by proxy so will he"

"Yeah..."

"Serious question, Rinny" Rans voice was methodical while gently tracing the wisps of hair from his nieces head "do you want it to work with (name)?" He asked so calm and collected while Rindō sighed "I fucked up enough" he grumbled out and Ran snorted "you sure did, you called him a whore in so many new fun ways! It's going to take a lot to earn his trust"

"I don't think he will, how would I even get him to do that?"

"Maybe start with an apology"

"An apology?" Rindō was incredulous and Rindō rolled his eyes and leaned into his chair "we are hardened criminals, we do what we want but he is the mother to your child, he is your mate" Ran said seriously "our world means nothing compared to family, an apology can fix a lot of things and open many doors" ran said before leaning close and locking eyes with his younger brother before whispering;

"So apologize"

And with that, Ran stood up and pulled his cigarette holder "I'm leaving now, you better make sure he isn't being stupid or I swear to god"

And with that, Rindō was left in the room with his sleeping mate who hated him and his infant daughter who gurgled up at him, wide eyed "hey..." He whispered and gently took the babies finger "I'm your dad..." He whispered to the little girl who looked at him with nothing but pure curiousity and Rindō couldn't help but smile at this pup.... His pup.

He was a dad now.

Looking up he stared at (name), the Omega spent and out cold in the comfortable bed with many pillows ran made sure (name) had.

Ran was right, he was so obsessed with (name) when he met him at that party... He was absolutely stunning...

Would (name) forgive him?

He was awful to him even up to the birth...

(Name) Held onto his son while being discharged, Ran returning with a BMW armored van and a shit eating grin "there's my beautiful neice~" ran cooed while he and Rindō helped (name) get situated, (name) glaring at Rindō while the Alpha buckled in (daughters name) into her car seat "I got you two some food! Also I stocked up your fridge, (name)!" Ran always the doting but brother knew Rindō still hadn't apologized but could see him working up the confidence for it.

"We'll be alternating whose with you, we worked out a schedule so you're never alone!" Ran said happily and (name) suppressed a sigh at the concept of having to be near his daughters sire for prolonged periods of time and hopefully not kill the Kanto manji member.

(Name) Ate his food quietly, exhausted "drive slower" (name) hissed out and Ran looked back from the rearview mirror "were going at the speed limit (name)"

"Don't care." (Name)s instincts were going haywire "drive. Slower." He hissed out and ran began driving slower at the furious pharamones that made Rindō crack a window "thank you" (name) focused his attention to (daughters name) who was so peaceful before pulling out his phone and placing the screen under her nose to check her breathing and let out a content sigh.

"Rindō is on first watch as I have business to attend to but don't worry I'll bring you two souvenirs!"

(Name) Glared at Rindō and Rindō looked anywhere but him "you know you don't have to, I know you're not thrilled about parenting" (name) didn't even ask for this...

"I want to be there for you two"

"Why...?" (Name) Was suspicious of the alphas words, he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

"...let's get (daughters name) in bed then let's talk"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #omegaverse #bonten x reader #omega male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #rindou x male reader #haitani rindou x reader

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ziploc849 · 2 days ago

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My final TMA post of season 2. I think in the future I might try and keep these posts a lot shorter, limit my word count or sentence amount or something like that. But in the meantime, enjoy my thoughts on Episode 79 and 80!! I’ll be making a separate posts about some of my thoughts specifically regarding some shit we learned in episode 80. This is a long one so buckle in yall. I hope my ramblings are at least semi coherent

Ep 79: So many fucking thoughts. Jon doesn’t remember what Sasha looked like. Martin and Tim saw Not-Sasha even if they don’t understand it. Martin and Tim ending up in Michael’s. Domain? That feels like a fitting word at this point, even the way Michael talks, the way he has to remember the word for “sport”, makes me think that he’s not even something that’s good at pretending to be human. Not-Them is so fucking scary, the idea of them “wearing” the people they kill not like wearing their skin, but like wearing their essence, taking their place in the world but not their likeness. Fucking terrifying. Not-Sasha saying the institute “has the biggest eyes you ever did see”. Saying that if they took Jon’s place and became the Archivist he’d “miss the Unknowing” whatever that means. She talks about “robbing the eye of its pupil”. Archivist is capitalized in the transcripts when she says it, like it’s a title or a name. So much weird eye imagery in this fucking show. Strange mystery man appearing from the shadows and. Killing Not-Sasha? I’m not entirely sure what that was. God this episode was a lot from like 20-100 so fast

Ep 80: one of the YouTube comments on this episode is from that one TikTok “day 23 in the chamber, they ain’t found me yet but when they do they gonna be surprised” and that gave me a good laugh after this HELL of a fucking episode. You’re telling me we meet JURGEN LEITNER and then witness his DEATH in the same fucking episode???? What the shit??!?? All of my answers and ideas from the last episode were immediately answered here lmao

The Not-Them is trapped, not dead, likely never able to die according to Leitner. The real Sasha is dead forever, and it’s not surprising but there is a deep injustice in that. She didn’t have an inkling of what was going on.

There’s a book that works on Smirke’s architecture and is related to the phobia of claustrophobia, another hint I think.

The amusement in Jon’s voice with “That’ll be our Gerard” makes me wonder if I’ve missed something about his character related to the others, or if it’s just Jon happy to recognize something familiar in all of this.

The evolution through the episode of “what do you mean you thought they were just books, they are right?” to “oh god. They are so much more than books.” Leitner says some of them must like the flame, that things would take a different form if the book was burned. Is that what some of the creatures are? The ones that aren’t even pretending to be something strange and terrifying? Beings released from books and allowed to be more overtly dangerous? Like unbinding Not-Sasha from the table?

The description of what happened when the house was attacked is chilling and brings back many, many memories. Stabbed through the throat by something with too many teeth and limbs like knives sounds like the bajillions of people-to-the-left we’ve seen. Similar to Not-Them I think? Or maybe there’s a different example I can’t remember. Pulled into a maw that opened up from the floor, which sounds identical to the hole in The Butchers Window. Ran into a door that didn’t exist, Michael obviously. A hand through the roof simply grabbing someone is reminiscent of the way the sky ate, or somehow took the man in Freefall. An assistant whose name isn’t memorable anymore (though all the others’ are) being pulled into a pile of meat, the former sounds similar to what we saw in Lost and Found, but the meat mentioned sounds more reminiscent to things we saw in The Man Upstairs. Rooms taken by darkness or fire, things we have already seen the power of overtly and know very well.

Gertrude had 3 assistants, all 3 “meeting an unpleasant end”. I do not like the foreshadowing that offers for Tim and Martin, with Sasha already gone.

And of course. The entities. The humans to us, the ants. I find the analogy Leitner uses to be particularly interesting, even if I don’t know if he meant it in this way. Fingernails digging, changing the world in a fraction of a second, changing reality in a way ants could never fully understand. Like a creature taking the entire idea of a person and warping it to meet their needs. Changing memories and photographs and nearly everything in its path. The sky moving, in ways it shouldn’t because it just doesn’t, to pluck a man from reality. Eyes watching, knowing and seeing and observing, filing information away in a horrifying and terribly understanding kind of way. Always there, it’s people of interest never far from view even as they’re driven mad. Shadows vast and unfathomable, darkness that seems to spread the way light does. Endless expanses entirely impossible and yet very, very real to the people who see it. Themes we’ve seen before all over this series.

Leitner says Michael is “The Distortion”, “The Spiral”. Illusions and hallucinations and insanity. I think some things are falling into place, and I might have to make a seperate post on it cause this one is already way too long, but I think my phobias theory wasn’t too far off.

Elias killed Gertrude. Gertrude and Leitner were going to destroy the archives. Elias took files, files on “The Stranger”. Another mention of the Unknowing. Another entity? An event to come?

[Brutal Pipe Murder] made me laugh far harder than it should’ve. Sorry Leitner. What is the dripping (I don’t want to know). I don’t know how long Tim and Martin were gone, but gods they came on an awful scene. And they think Jon did it. God season 3 is gonna be Fucked.

#magnus archives #the magnus archives #tma first listen #tma podcast #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #jurgen leitner #elias bouchard #tma episode 80 #tma ep 79

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atangledfate · 22 hours ago

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All Sonic could see in that moment was red, and that anger was bubbling up like geyser ready to blow. He didn't have much in this world that he cared for, and he knew Amy was a tough girl. But seeing her like that just flipped a switch for him. Maybe it was that curse that linked him to her, or maybe was just his own protective nature as a guardian of his world. He didn't know but he'd never felt such a desire to put someone in the ground. Even despite the fact that he was hyper aware Surge was trying to prevent him from making a huge mistake. It didn't really register completely.

He grit his teeth and leaned in close to Surge and was seconds from speaking, telling her where she could shove her worries. If she knew Abe like he did, if she had any idea of all the awful things he was party to. She'd have wanted to put him in the ground to. GUN drove Gerald mad, tossed shadow in a damn stasis pod, killed maria in cold blood and so much more! there was alot they would never atone for in Sonic's eyes---all of this was just another drop in the bucket.

" Talkin' ain't ever gonna be GUN's language! I am so sick of tryin' to talk with those people! they only language they get is force, so i'm just gonna speak there language!?! "

He had no qualms busting Surge's face wide open to get to them either! Luckily Tails voice was perhaps the one he needed to hear most, mostly because of how close they were. But despite that it didn't make him less angry, it just made him bury it again and hide away like he always did. When he thought about it, he was kind of a coward wasnt he? always hiding, always tucking his tail and running from all that pent up aggression.

Surge could see his hostility ebb away, it was likely the first time she'd seen him so worked up. Yes he did care for Amy, like he cared for Tails, and anyone who threatened them was on his shit list!

" ... Mark my words, they ain't here to talk Surge... those bastards are a bunch of child killin' life ruinin' sacks of absolute shit. I'll play nice... but the moment i find out Abe was behind Amy's attack... the gloves are off... i ain't puttin' that to the side. You'd do the same if it was Kit... "

He looked away from her to the airship that was just within sight of them now.

" They ain't here to help... you an i both know it... this is gonna be us vs them... i'll wait... and i keep my promises. So you can relax... "

He was still very obviously pissed off, and only holding back for the time being. One wrong move by GUN was likely to set his ass off. But he knew if GUN had his way they'd lock them both up for sure. His eyes went to Surge though and narrowed as he realized something important and, as he needed some way to direct his anger he snapped at her instead.

" and YOU need to tell him the damn truth! because i sure as fuck ain't gonna explain it to him. Do you think for a moment he'd listen to me or tails anyway? You need to tell him, and soon..."

===============================================

Tails wasn't sure if it was Belle in control or an auto pilot in truth it was hard to tell. But he was pretty impressed by the over all craftsmanship of the bot. It was impressive and showed how far she'd come! He was always impressed by her work, and it was proof in his mind that Eggman's bots could do good given the right program and incentive.

" And who do you think designed the artificial Chaos? Doctor Gerald Robotnik... Eggman's grandfather. Lots of Eggman's technology was inspired by Gerald, even if Gerald's intentions were pure... alot of his tech was turned into weapons for GUN or worse... locked up for being to dangerous. But i guess you know more about it then i do... just hard not to see the similarities "

Tails had been working the entire time he was talking. He connected the satellite to the Belle Bot which gave her access to the eye in the sky. This also allowed her to interface with the restoration com network fully, and reconnect the broken bits from the EMP with the satellites network.

" I got it, i do hope Belle doesn't mind me using the belle Bot as a relay... but, that should reconnect Restoration communications. Also you should be able to use the belle bot's signal to connect to the satellite using it as a proxy. That should limit any risk to your own equipment... "

Not that there was any risk to begin with, but he hoped it quelled Kit's paranoia.

" I... know i probably shouldn't even say anything. But... I'm Sorry you know, for everything that's happened... Deep down i guess i just want to find some middle ground for you and I... I just want us to be able to talk ... work this all out somehow. "

He sighed and gave Kit a side glance with one of his ears falling over

" When this is over... do you think... we can talk? Not asking for anything else... just a chance for us to talk, "

Surge scowls at Sonic, her lightning changing dark red as her strength seemed to double, maybe even more as she held him in place. The tenrec then punched the wall right next to the hedgehog's head, easily cracking it deeply which traveled high up the wall. "Yeah, because you look like in such a talkative mood right now. Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I know everything about you, remember?" A face the speedster still hated, though it was the truth.

"Don't think I've been sitting on my ass all this time with The Restoration. I've been training and have a bunch of new skills so if you think you can just fight me off easily then you're dead wrong." Surge figured a long time ago Sonic never took their first fights too seriously, attempting to talk her down. Things were different this time around with abilities she's unlocked.

Surge ear twitches hearing Tails on the intercom attempting to talk Sonic down as well. "You also promised me something, and I expect you to keep it. Can't do that if you get thrown in a GUN cell with me." The tenrec was sure she wouldn't be getting your average cell, though not the time to think about that.

Surge finally let Sonic go, hoping he had calmed down enough to not sprint off again. "You want to thrash whoever is behind this after, then fine. Though I'm not failing him again, and I'm not letting you fail him. Is that clear?" The only person she trusted with that was Sonic by this point, and wasn't going to have him fuck that up. "And if you do fail him then I'm going to break every fucking bone in your body."

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"Belle isn't controlling Belle Bot right now. It's most likely just running off basic functions as it's still in the early stages. That said, it is combat ready so if need be it'll go into on the offensive and I don't think GUN will have a fun time." Kitsunami was sure it could tear through several GUN squads without slowing down if need be.

"No, Starline was completely obsessive with only using Eggtech for my hydro-pack even when there were moments where getting GUN tech would've made it easier than rebuilding parts from Eggtech scraps." Even to the bitter end Starline was obsessed with Eggman. "Though I've since upgraded to be all custom parts working out and Eggtech. I also stayed away from GUN tech." Not worth the risk of them realizing he had stolen some of their tech.

"Try to hook up the coms to something portable so we can hurry on to my room. As much as I'd prefer to do this on my own I have no clue about GUN firewalls. Don't get the wrong idea, this is just to help Surge as best as I can." Kitsunami still seemed more worried about helping Surge than anything else, despite Starline being gone for so long.

#Blue Streak Speeds By #Sonic #All grown up and ready to fly #tails #thundercracker #surge

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dem0nsiget · 2 years ago

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You ever just have those moments that validates and makes you feel like you made the right choice?

I was just flipping through Facebook and saw an Amazon ad that included a thing for the Tervis goldfish tumblers, and it reminded me

My father bought me one for Christmas, but it was because it was on my Amazon list and he made a comment about not knowing why I wanted the fish one.

My stepdad, on the other hand, when I opened said fish cup and got excited, asked why, and when I explained (which I have said to my father) that I loved the design because it makes it look like the fish are swimming in the water in the cup, he laughed (in a genuine way) and said that he could see that, and when I said I wanted it because I was sad my other one had disappeared (presumably lost/donated in our last move) he was happy that I had gotten a new one since it made me happy.

It’s just nice having someone who understands that while it might not be something they place value in, I do, and that’s what matters.

#which my father definitely doesn’t #after the jasmine bush fiasco I definitely learned thag #he cut down our Star jasmine bush in the middle of summer when it was blooming and smelled good #and it was always my favorite part of summer #and especially with me dealing with the loss of friends because of them dropping me as a friend #and my mom being out of the house because of their divorce it was just the straw that broke the camels back #and I was sad and angry and he just kept saying he didn’t get why I was so upset over a bush #and it was just a lot of shit and opened my eyes to some things

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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 1 year ago

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i have this silly little undeveloped au in my brain that's just like. tedependent but it's the sarah jane adventures. sort of. not literally in the doctor who universe necessarily but like. local intrepid reporter trent crimm investigating weird shit except the local neighborhood kids will not leave him alone.

i have so many thoughts about this but none of them are coherent enough for a proper fic i think:

i just think trent being good with kids, generally. go mentor figure trent! (what this has nothing to do with my thesis what do you mean)

trent, like sarah jane pre-series, having a sort of reputation in the neighborhood (or in general, since i'm also incorporating his actual canon vibes/story) as to being standoffish, aloof, cold, etc., and generally anti-social, keeping to himself. and as the kids keep dragging him into things kicking and screaming he might also be dragged kicking and screaming into a community <3

if his daughter is essentially luke does that mean he adopted her under Strange Alien-Related Circumstances? absolutely it does, yes.

see i've got two great ideas for ted/tedependent. on one hand, although in the context of SJA/nuwho i'm not so much one for sarah jane and the doctor as a Thing, ted playing the role of like. someone from trent's Mysterious Past who he won't talk about who set him on this path? someone who was kind and wonderful and changed his life but then--at least it feels like to him--abandoned him? someone who made him a better person--from doing whatever journalism he used to do to this--someone who he's still kinda in love with... but trent can no longer even really talk to......until he shows up again? that's some good shit, not gonna lie. although i'm jimmying that into a happy ending somehow, goddamn it.

ALTERNATIVELY. henry being one of the Neighborhood Kids (as if we're using "canon" kids, we've got limited options) and ted being an oblivious parent. trent is trying to get these kids to STOP POKING INTO DANGEROUS ALIEN NONSENSE PLEASE THIS IS HIS JOB PLEASE STOP BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE but they're stubborn and smart and they may or may not have saved his life once or twice and oh GOD THIS IS SO IRRESPONSIBLE but he can't just TELL THESE RANDOM NEIGHBORS about ALIENS. but like anyway this just painful secret identity-esque nonsense where ted knows henry's taken a shine to that nice journalist down the street and his daughter but does NOT know that henry is getting into Shenanigans(TM). this could lead into all sorts of drama about, you know, his kid being in danger... or, alternatively, ted has worked with some unit/torchwood-esque place before and is like OHH you know what? this explains that time i thought i heard you speaking an alien language. cool, cool. and trents like. .....WHAT

etc. i'm not wording this well but i think you get the idea.

if you really really wanted to make it complicated you could do both, considering the doctor's whole thing--either a fob watch or a regeneration--but honestly, i don't want to do that, so i won't

some of the adults do definitely get involved though. keeley either clocks that shit right away or thinks she's clocked it but she's actually clocked something entirely different. she's like i know you're mi6 babe ;) and he. is not. meanwhile roy having ten freakouts in a row and then being like nvm i'm fine with this. (is not fine with this, but will be eventually). jamies like yeah aliens. everyone knows about those. and they're like what?? no they dont?? and so on.

is beard an alien? genuinely no one's sure. he's not telling.

HOLD ON can i give trent k-9???? can trent crimm get a robot dog?????? yes please i think he deserves a robot dog

also see the trickster episodes? bet you could do something real fucked up with those.

i feel like i had more when i started this post but i don't remember

this not well thought out at all and i have no idea where everyone would fit in

anyway my point is. trent crimm, intrepid journalist, running around trying to stop alien shenanigans while Those Meddling Kids keep following him around. trent crimm doin a little Breaking And Entering. scooby doo shit. and he has such an interesting mix of seeming suave and badass and then immediately doing something embarrassing. trent crimm--via shenanigans and also Those Meddling Kids dragging him into their lives (aka he tries to keep his distance SO badly and only is involved when dangerous shit is going down but like then it's all. child knocking on his door like IT'S AN EMERGENCY OPEN UP and hes like WHAT WHAT IS IT and theyre like can you help me with my homework :( and hes like. fuck. yeah fine what do you want help with. (some subjects he's very helpful on others he's VERY not) until they're like okay but you're coming to this bbq right. and he's like? no? and they're like you're coming to this bbq right. and so on) ANYWAY the point is they keep dragging him into their lives and now oops! trent actually knows his neighbors and has to go through the mortifying ordeal of being known. but that also means that when he gets badly hurt or sick he's used to the empty hospital room but now he actually gets people showing up and forcing baked goods on him and shit and i'm just feeling a lot of things about this extremely hypothetical au based on my already existing feelings about trent gaining a community in s3/post-canon,

wait does this mean trent gets sonic lipstick? HELL YEAH IT DOES

#well actually i have a LOT of silly little underdeveloped aus in my brain but #anyway. crack edition: the football players are still football players.#trent crimm wondering why he's trying to stop an alien spaceship from blowing up the block #with the help of a team of famous football players. roy kent just punched a raxicoricofallapatorian.#trent on the couch with a black eye bc they had a run in with a sontaron or some shit: [holding up peas to his face] okay.#so jamie tartt is here for some reason. and also the neighbor i have a crush on. and also his son. and also colin. this is fine #that's all a joke obviously but the imagery has me cackling #anyway this also made me think of trent as river song which doesnt work at first glance but then when i think about some PARTICULAR things #makes me cry. like. just. meeting him in reverse.#it's s3 trent--dorky and open and softer but sadder--that he meets first #and by the time he reaches the end he sees how far he's come out of his shell and how unhappy he was #but then they have their moment...#sorry that's also barely coherent and definitely wouldn't make a cohesive au without a lot more work im just spinning thoughts in my brain #trent crimm #tedependent #tedtrent #ted x trent #sja au #tvtcau #the first one before i even had that lol

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the-cooler-king · 6 months ago

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One of those texts I kind of need to sit on before I decide how I'm going to word it.

I never know how to start these, but I always have an idea on what to say. Your opinion of me actually matters a lot & the implication that you believe that I lie to you or I'm not doing enough is kinda hurtful. It comes across to me like my effort is worthless to you & that what I want doesn't matter at all. I wouldn't bring it up if I didn't think you cared, and I know you're going through a lot and shouldn't have to worry about me, but I'm getting mixed signals that are really throwing me off. What do you want from me? Am I asking too much of you and you don't know how to tell me? I sincerely want to be there for you, regardless of what it looks like to get to that point, but if you don't want me there you can tell me! What you want matters just as much, if not more, to me. I'm not the kind of person to be hostile about things if they don't work out. I don't want to be another source of stress or negativity for you, and I don't want you to be afraid of being honest with me. I constantly question if you're just too nice to tell me you aren't interested anymore, and even if you are, I might need more reassurance than you can give me because I don't think I'm very worth it to anyone for anything. If you don't think I'm trying hard enough then tell me what I need to do to change that! I'm at the point of just not knowing what I bring to your life, if anything at all. You don't need to deal with me on top of everything else, so, I'm sorry for this. Even if you don't text me back I'll feel better once I get it out there. The only thing I've ever been afraid of is not communicating exactly how much I care about you & how much you mean to me - even if it doesn't matter to you, or you don't believe me. If there comes a day where we aren't in each other's lives anymore for whatever reason, I don't want either of us to question what could've been said or done differently or regret not doing more.

#I'm gonna sleep on this one. This could be a Monday night text. Or tomorrow #I'll refine this better. I think it's important to stress the whole Gemini factor here #REALLY mixed signals. If you want me to go just say it #I don't have time for the bait and switch yknow #I don't even think he's aware. Micheal said it pretty straight up and I know he's probably right #But I will be goddamned if I don't give it my best and most honest shot.#I think about Sean a lot sometimes and how much I miss him. It could make me cry #I never got the chance to tell him anything. To show him I made it #He will NEVER get here. He will always be stuck when and where and how he died and that fucking kills me #That pain and raw grief are what keep me going at this point.... he will never experience life after that moment in time #And I am so scared that the same thing will happen to my s/o and he will walk into it with eyes open #And I can't communicate that fear to him. That profound sadness. Watching a movie over and over and hate the ending #It's *hard*. How many times can I watch it happen? How many times will it keep happening? Take my fucking revolution or whatever #I woke up angry today and im committed to being empty and full of resentment I think #I just want to talk to Sean. He would say the same thing micheal did I bet.#God I really miss him huh. Crying and shit or whatever. I don't have time for this #Sean would laugh at me for crying over some hot guy who I am clearly the side girl to #Lmao I would laugh too. Yeah. Get it together.#It's just another relapse so relax sit back and take a deep breath......

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kinardsevan · 9 hours ago

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@a-mel0n

So if it's based on my opinion (which this post is LOL), I do think Evan sees Tommy as Tommy. We've seen him listen to Tommy talk about his own issues with his dad. And even though we know he mentioned him as confident in season 7, we also saw that he was open to hearing Tommy out. But I think there's also a lot about Tommy that he misses as well because he hasn't really had to see Tommy as human yet. He's seen Tommy do these wildly dangerous things (like flying into a hurricane), and he's had Tommy woo him, but he hasn't actually seen Tommy hurt, but Tommy HAS seen him hurt. This is what goes further to my point of we NEEDED this for the progression of the relationship. He has to know if when Tommy's good qualities are stripped away, he still cares about him.

To that end, I think we did get the answer, yes, he does. Josh's speech may have been part of the conflict for this scenario, but it also tees up the fact that Evan understands that Tommy has made choices in the past that weren't the best. He's hurt people (including people Evan loves), and he's accepting of that, because he knows Tommy has put the work in to be better than that. I think at this point what has to actually be seen though is Buck seeing Tommy stripped down. Even if that's a scene we get of Tommy with messy hair and red eyes because he's a wreck about the breakup. It has to be something that shows that Tommy isn't just this wall of confidence. And to some degree, we DID get that in the break-up.

So really, what we need is for Evan to actually articulate "holy shit I'm actually in love with him and I need to tell him".

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#mel's musings #prev tags #bucktommy

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