#it feels like i should fucking kill myself if i consider not being home for dinner

[fandomnerd9602]

The One I Want

Laura Kinney x Spiderpool!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Do you know that one moment where you just feel like you screwed everything up spectacularly? well that happened to me rather recently. Oh sorry where are my manners? my name is (Y/N) (L/N) and on my world I’m known as the spectacularly annoying Spider-Pool. The spectacularly annoying part is debatable.

You see it all started when the TVA zapped me into the void, something about being an anomaly, a profane and unholy combination of both Spider-Man and Deadpool. Honestly, it’s just the best of both worlds in my book or it would be a book if I wasn’t more than just one panel in comic book of the spider verse. True story look it up.

Or it could’ve been the fact that I killed Jared Leto, oh not Morbius. I’m saying I literally killed Jared Leto. It was an accident. I thought I was going after Morbius but oh well.

To make a long story short, I was forced to team up with X-23 or Laura as she likes to be called. One of my all time favorite X-Men characters by the way!

Anyway we found ourselves at an agreement, if I got her back to her timeline and out of the Void she would help me do the same. A good deal all things considered. The only downside is the TVA is so flip floppy. I mean one show it’s the villain the next show it’s good? Fiege, please make up your mind about what the TVA is?!

“You’re sure this plan of ours will work?” Laura told me as we drove thru the woods towards the reported base of the resistance found in the Void.

“If it works, I’ll be happily back in my world by this time tomorrow, Fun Size” Laura’s eyes went wide and she slammed on the brakes, nearly sending me flying into the windshield.

“If?! What do you mean if?!” She was screaming at me. My mind could only formulate the truth. I thought truth telling was Captain America's problem?!

"The TVA are hunting me and I need to get back home to save my world." Oh yeah it all came out like a big old truth salad. A truth salad that you order from Pizza Hut and immediately regret.

Laura began screaming and banging her fists against the steering wheel, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Out of all the spider totems to get stuck in the Void with and I end up with you!"

Oh I knew exactly where this was heading. A teenage superhero such as myself could only baton down the hatches and listen as this beautiful teenage fighting machine chewed me out. How is this both the most embarrassing and fulfilling moment of my life?

"I end up with the biggest fuck up in the multiverse! A spider-deadpool equivalent that couldn't save his Aunt May or Uncle Ben. Twice!"

It's true. I even somehow got my universe's Sean Bean killed. Yes. That Sean Bean. He wasn't even playing my Uncle Ben or anything!

Laura continued her little tirade, "No wonder the Spider Society turned you down! And the Avengers too! You can't save anyone or anything. Your world hates you! The girls you were supposed to love hate you! Mary Jane couldn't stand you. Gwen probably enjoyed death more than you!"

I could feel the anger rising up in the pit of my heart.

"The greatest joke is that no matter how much you wish for death to be with Gwen, you can't die! And it's one of God's greatest jokes on us instead of you!!!"

I was left in stone cold utter silence. I could feel my vision beginning to turn as red as my outfit.

"What?! No witty comeback?!"

"I'm going to fight you now" was all that left my mouth. And you know what? I meant it. Every. Last. Fucking. Word.

"Oh are you-?" THWIP! I shot one of my web guns, a web flew right over her mouth. The anger immediately flared in her eyes. Next thing I knew she lunged at me, claws out.

She grabbed my head and slammed it several times against the car radio. I grabbed her and gently pushed her against the driver seat. Hey I may be in a fight for my life but I’d still never hurt a woman.

Laura took one of her claws and ran it over the web, cutting it. I really should have taken Fictional Chemistry to understand that admantium is stronger than webs.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t hurt a girl!”

“A girl can hurt you!” She retorted before driving her claws in my lungs.

I kicked her straight thru the windshield of the Odyssey and into the forest in front of us. She simply smirked and dove right back thru. I had to admire her tenacity and endurance.

That admiration was interrupted with the familiar feeling of Adamantium being driven straight thru me, over and over.

She began muttering something in Spanish. Sadly I didn’t have the subtitles on so I couldn’t exactly know what she was saying. My Spanish only goes as far as my name: la piscina de aranas.

I pinned her to the second row seats, which were flattened like my heart was after the dog’s death in John Wick.

Laura simply laughed and kicked me straight thru the roof of the Honda. I landed on the roof with a sickening thud and rolled off, hitting the forest floor.

Laura, ever the tease, looked at me thru the window and gave me a come at me signal. “I am a teenage superhero,” I found myself wondering, “how am I terrified and yet so turned on?”

I pulled out my punch daggers and dived right thru the side window.

We traded blows and slashes. She let out a few huffs and groans. She straddled me and begins driving her claws repeatedly, coating the interior with a lovely shade of my blood.

She paused and looked at me in concern, “is that a Glock in your pocket?!”

“I never keep a Glock in there” I laughed before pulling out another gun, “I keep a Desert Eagle!”

Blam! Blam! I fired off several shots at her, one of which hit her rib and the other hit one of her claws.

“That all you got?” She asked me thru gritted teeth.

I grabbed my web gun and shot off several shots, encasing one of her arms in a giant web. She cut right thru it and lunges at me again. She forced us into the remaining back third row. Yeah the Odyssey has three rows. Three rows of get your freak on.

Next thing I knew Laura was looking at me with those brown eyes of hers. It had a mixture of anger and... Wait what was that? Is that lust?!

Well I guess it was. Because the next thing I knew she was driving her claws into the sides of the seats to my left and my right and then she kissed me full on lip lock with teeth hitting mine lip lock. Holy Stan Lee!

Each little growl that escaped her mouth was like a bit of heaven, a symphony to my ears, and quite possibly a fear of hell.

“I…uhh…” my brain tried to comprehend the exact situation that I was going through. It was something so great and yet so terrifying and couldn’t help it intrigue me even more.

“You talk too much” was her only response before she continued her onslaught of kisses. And boy was she right.

She shoved me down onto the remaining back seat, her lips never leaving mine. I began rubbing little circles into her back as the Honda continued rocking back and forth.

It was night by the time we had worked thru all of our differences…and no we did not go any farther than a PG-13 would allow.

Laura nuzzled me, laying against my chest. We shared a bottle of Coke that we found earlier. I gotta admit, besides the whole trying to kill me thing, I could really see a long partnership with her. Both crime fighting and in private.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “It’s not your fault. The TVA is just the worst.”

“Yeah” I agreed, “sorry I shot you with a Desert Eagle”

Laura simply smirked and held up the bullet before dropping it on the Honda’s floor. “I’ll help you get back home”

“I’ll make sure you have a home to get back to.” I smiled at her and gave her forehead a little kiss.

“Aww” a new voice broke the silence. Laura and I turned to see Deadpool and Wolverine staring at us from outside the Honda.

“Young love” Deadpool chimed in.

OK, so not exactly how I was expecting this whole date to go, but I gotta say turn out better than I thought it would. And what can I say the Honda Odyssey really fucks.

[luvrgreyy]

A PERFECTLY RUINED THING

boyfriend's brother!leon x f!reader

word count: 3.1k summary: leon's attempts to comfort you after a fight with his older brother. masterlist | ko-fi

18+ MDNI. infidelity, one mention of masturbation, age gap(leon is 21, reader is 25), non-con kissing, car sex, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral(r!receiving), praise, soft dom leon.

a/n: not my best work, but alright. this was meant to be a short, self indulgent fic, i dont know how i ended up writing this much. anyway, here's something to keep you guys occupied while i work on a new series im writing :3

leon has always had a thing for you. ever since you started dating his brother a few years ago, he’d always found you attractive. he’s tried to get over you, date other girls, but that doesn’t really seem to work.

his brother was a moron, and he was sure you deserved better. not that leon considered himself any better. it’s wrong, it’s messed up in every possible way, which is why he could never tell his brother how he truly feels.

family is important, and leon wouldn't do anything to risk losing his brother's respect.

but being around you, watching you, it's all too much sometimes. he would often find himself fantasizing about you while jerking off to porn, imagining it was him instead of his brother making out with you, touching you, fucking you.

it used to bother him a lot, feeling like this for someone who was technically off-limits. but lately, with his brother spending lesser time around the house, leon had started to brush off those guilty feelings.

and he began to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could have you for himself one day. the fantasies were harmless, he told himself, as long as they remained just that — fantasies.

leon shakes his head and comes out of his thoughts with a start. he couldn't make out all the words, but he could tell you and his brother were fighting. nothing new there.

he knows he shouldn't care, that it's none of his business, but he can't help but wonder what his brother had said to make you so upset. was he flirting with some girl? did he forget your birthday again? had you finally broken up with him? he felt bad for being somewhat happy at the thought.

until he hears the door slam. he blinks and looks up, listening as the sound echoes through the house. well, so much for staying out of it.

he’s about to get up when he hears your footsteps, and soon you stomp into the living room, face flushed with anger.

"hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, looking up at you from his place on the couch. you stopped pacing and turn to face him, eyes brimming with tears. "your stupid brothers what’s wrong,”

he can't help it, his jaw twitches at the mention of his brother, but he manages to keep a neutral look otherwise. “what did he do this time?" he asks quietly, standing up. you bite your lip and look away, struggling to find the words.

"i don't know," you finally reply. "he's just— he’s being difficult,” he wants to hug you, to comfort you, but he's hesitant to do so. you’ve just never been that close, so he just stands there awkwardly as you try to speak through the tears.

“i-i’ve tired talking to him, but he never listens. i don’t know what i did, but i know there's something wrong,”

“i’m sorry about him,” it's stupid, he knows his brother is terrible to you, but he couldn't stop myself from making a dig. “but you know you can talk to me, right?”

“i know,” you choke out a sob. “but— i just wanna go home, leon.”

it kills him to see you like this, especially since he knows it's his brother's fault. but he wants you to stay. he doesn't say it, but he hopes, silently, that you'll stay with him instead. “yeah, okay,” he agrees, forcing a smile. “i can do that, i can take you home.” he reaches out and gently wipes away your tears, thumb lingering on your cheek.

“thank you,” you sniff and nod, reaching up to brush his hand away. he lets it linger a moment longer, before reluctantly pulling back.

he knows he should tell you it will all work out, that his brother loves you and that things will be fine... but he can't. because then he'd be lying.

the ride to your house is quiet. he wants to say something, anything, but it seems wrong to talk about anything lighthearted.

when he pulls up to your house, he parks and turns to you. you're staring out the window, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

"hey," he asks softly. "you okay?"

you look at him then, really look at him, and for a moment, he thinks he sees something in your eyes — a flicker of... something. he doesn't know what it is, and he doesn't bother trying to find out when you reach out for his hand.

he freezes. it's a small point of contact, one he's not ready for.

he tries not to tremble as you hold his hand, but you're so close to him and he can't make himself pull away, so he does the only thing he can think to do — pretend nothing is wrong and and just sit there, praying you don't notice how his breath catches in his throat. praying you can't feel how hard he is.

you just want comfort, he tells himself. don't be weird.

he looks down at your fingers, how small they looked, your soft skin, the way your nails dig lightly into his skin.

"leon?" your voice comes out a small squeak.

"yeah?"

he tries to say something else, but its no use. all he can think about is how close your hand is to his dick. how easy it would be to move it a few inches and have you cupping him. he doesn't do that, of course. that would be messed up. but the thought alone is making him rock hard.

god, he feels like a fucking pervert, crossing his legs to try and hide his boner. you look at him with those big, beautiful eyes, and he nearly melts. he wants nothing more than to kiss you right then and there. but he can't. can he?

"i— uh, thank you."

you withdraw your hand, and the relief he feels is short-lived, because he watches you reach out for the door. he doesn't want you to go. not yet, anyway. "wait," he says, and you pause.

before he can stop himself, his mouth is on yours. it's just a small, chaste kiss, but it's still a massive step. what the hell is wrong with him? you're his brother's girlfriend for fucks sake! but you don't pull away, and he can't bring himself to do the same.

for a moment, he thinks you kiss him back. just for a second. it's hard to tell, since it's so quick, but he could swear he feels your lips moving with his. he pulls back, breathless, eyes wide.

"i'm so sorry," he whispers, knowing it's not enough, but not knowing what else to say. so he just sits there, staring at you, trying not to panic.

he can't think straight. all he can focus on is your lips, how soft they were, the way they moved with his. it was a real kiss. a tentative one, yes, but real. his mind is spinning. what does this mean? does it even mean anything at all? or was it just a momentary lapse in judgment? he knows he shouldn't have done it. he should've let you go, let you walk out of his life for good. but looking at you now, he realizes he'd do it all over again, whatever the consequences are.

this makes him bold. reckless. and he moves in for another kiss, hand cupping your cheek. this time, there's no mistake — you pull him closer, your tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. he can taste you on his lips, like really taste you. it’s incredible.

one hand moves down your side, to rest on your hip. the other cradles your head, fingers threaded through your hair. he pours all his emotion into the kiss — the frustration, the longing, the love he's kept hidden for so long. you taste like toothpaste and happiness, and it's the best thing he's ever experienced.

this goes on for a long time. like, a really long time. long enough that he starts to feel guilty, like he's taking advantage of you or something. but you don't seem to mind. you kiss him back, enthusiastically, and he swallows the small noises you make in your throat.

the kiss finally breaks, and you're panting. he is too. your lips are swollen and glossy, hands on his chest, pushing him away, but only slightly.

he doesn't care anymore. he's past the point of return. "i want you," he whispers, trying to memorize the feel of you. "i want you so bad. please," he begs, the plea raw in his voice. "i'll make it good for you, i promise.”

“leon,” you breathe out his name again. “this.. this isn’t right,”

he knows you’re right. of course you are. but he can't help himself. his desire drowns out whatever sense and reasoning he may still have. you're his brother's girlfriend. it's wrong, it's messed up, it's... “it doesn't feel wrong," he argues softly, thumb brushing against your flushed cheek. "does it?" you don't answer, just shake your head.

next thing he knows, his hand is sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up with it. he feels a scrap of fabric and the smooth skin it's covering. he stops, hovering just at the edge of decency.

“tell me to stop,” his lips hover just above yours. “tell me to stop, and i will.”

he waits. and waits. and waits. but no words come. you're quiet, neither denying nor confirming, and that's enough for him to take it as a yes. his hand continues up, past your knee, brushing the edge of your panties. he can feel the heat emanating from you, how your body is screaming at him to continue. to keep going. to take what he wants.

and he does. one finger, then two, slip in to push your panties to the side, and he's rewarded with a small gasp.

he shifts his fingers higher, seeking out your clit. he finds it, and rubs gently. you buck, just a little, and he freezes.

"this okay?" he looks at your face, searching for any sign that he should stop.

a tiny nod, almost imperceptible. "yeah," your voice is breathy. "yeah, leon." you grab his wrist, stopping him from retreating. "don't stop." he doesn't.

he goes back to rubbing your clit, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. one finger slips down to test your entrance. he pushes it inside, just the tip, and you tense. he groans in triumph at the feel of your slick walls, taking it as a sign to pushes further, sinking his finger knuckle deep into your pussy. you mewl, and he nearly comes in his pants.

your hips start to move, trying to fuck his hand, and he's happy to oblige. he adds another finger, hand practically punching into your dripping cunt. you're so wet and tight, so perfect for him.

“get in the back," he hisses through his teeth. "wanna have a taste.”

he doesn’t give you time, roughly shoving you into the backseat, and plopping himself down in a position where you straddle his face while his hands push your thighs apart.

he kneels down, and trails a finger up your inner thigh, finding your panties damp with arousal. he hooks his fingers in the elastic and drags them down, letting your soaked cunt be exposed to the air. he buries his face in your pussy, fingers spreading you apart. "fuck, you smell good," he groans, before closing his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue darting out to lick your juices.

you let out a startled yelp at the suddenness of it all, but he doesn't care. he's too busy breathing in your scent, licking and sucking at your little pussy, fingers digging into your hips as he pushes his tongue as far as it will go. he eats you like you're the last morsel of food on earth, desperate and ravenous.

your juices flood his mouth as he sucks and licks, fucking you with his hand while his mouth eats your pussy. he growls in the back of his throat, loving how you taste. he pulls away for a second, just long enough to yank your panties the rest of the way off, before diving back in. he can hear you whimper and moan, the sounds music to his ears.

the car lurches, and his face is buried in your pussy. he looks up, surprised, as you suddenly buck against him. but he recovers quickly, one hand reaching out to grab your wrist and pull you back down to his mouth, the other hand keeping the first two fingers of his other hand knuckle-deep in your pussy, pumping them slowly.

"i got you," he mouths around your clit, and continues eating you with renewed vigor, as if trying to prove a point. his tongue is fast, slick, and decisive, and he knows it's coming.

"tell me when," he mumbles, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

he feels it. the way you go slack, how your muscles tremble and contract. he's already sucking hard on your clit, lips vacuuming up your little bundle of nerves, trying to suck your orgasm straight into his mouth.

“imma cum, leon, i’m—“ you start, but the words die down in your throat.

your entire body bows back, throat making a sound like a scream that tappers out. he drinks it all in, every single drop of your release coating his lips, tongue, and it dribbles down to his chin.

he pulls back, sitting back on his heels, hands pushing your knees together to keep you from tipping over.

"c'mere," he coos. gently pushing you back onto the car seat, he slots himself between your legs. his cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, and with a curse, he undoes them, freeing his shaft.

he helps you get in position, hands shaking slightly as he lines himself up with your entrance. he's hard, veins bulging along the shaft, the tip leaking precum.

“can i?”

you nod. just once, and it's enough. his hips buck forward, slow and steady, feeling you stretch around him, the intrusion making you wince.

"sorry," he whispers, before pulling back slightly. "’ts okay," you hum in response.

your walls resist, then give, slowly swallowing up his length. but he doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, hips flush with yours "god, you're tight,” he looks down, watches himself disappear into you, and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

he takes his time, letting you adjust, letting yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you when he starts to move, it's a slow thrust, pulling back almost all the way, then pushing back in, creating a slow rhythm.

he's patient, letting the rhythm build, in and out, in and out, feeling your walls relax around him more and more with each thrust.

his hips rise up, his abs flexing as he pulls back, then lower, feeling you swallow him up again.

"feels so good," he admits, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

his hands land on your hips, fingers digging in, holding you in place as he fucks you, slow and deep, with a pace that's almost lazy.

“leon,” your voice is soft, almost dreamy. “leon,” you repeat his name like a prayer.

“i’m—”

“i know,” he huffs against your lips, feeling his balls drawing up.

your nails rake down his chest. “i’m gonna—“ “cum.” he groans, hips bucking harder, trying to draw it out. your pussy spasms, milking him for all he's worth, and he's powerless to stop it.

he's coming all over your insides. your walls suck him dry, and he slumps forward, forehead pressed against your shoulder, chest heaving.

your hand threads through his hair, holding his head still against your shoulder. he nuzzles into the touch, feeling your warmth, your softness. he's spent. emotionally and physically.

he pulls out slowly, cock slipping free, and a pearly rope of cum dribbles out. he grabs a napkin from the glovebox, and gently wipes your lips clean. he looks over at you, taking in your mussed hair, your flushed cheeks, your half-lidded eyes. you look relaxed. content.

"you alright?" he asks softly.

“mhm,”

he smiles, small and shy. like he didn’t just fuck your brains out. “good.”

he tucks himself back into his pants, zipping up. it takes a bit of effort to extricate himself from the wreckage of the backseat. he turns to you, and just looks. you straighten out your clothes, carefully smoothing down the fabric of your rumpled shirt. he watches as you adjust your skirt, his gaze soft yet intense.

“well, uh,” you pull back, eyes meeting, and you swallow hard. “i should probably go..”

“oh, yeah, of course," he pauses, then adds. “i’ll walk you to your door.”

you climb out of the car, and he follows. the cool night air feels strange on your skin, and it makes your skin shiver. he walks you to your front door, hands shoved deep in his pockets. the walk is silent, but not uncomfortable. you stop at your front door, and you turn to him.

“thank you,” you say softly. “for tonight.” he smiles. and you smile back. and for a second, he thinks of kissing you again. but he doesn't.

"night," he turns to leave, but pauses. "i hope this is the last time i see you.”

as you watch him go, your heart feels full. and weird. you can't stop smiling, even as you go inside and lock the door behind you. you walk to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. your hair is a mess. your face is flushed.

i guess now you know who the better kennedy is.

[anaalnathrakhs]

i am exactly the same as i was three years ago, but i put on a new coat of paint over the same old mechanisms and now i can pretend being normal. i can function. sort of. i have fixed almost zero problems, but i can bear them anyway so. why care. what would i even do? how does one even fix that?

i don't fucking know what i'm doing here! people keep trying to give me some sort of pep talks like!! remember what you're doing it for!! and like. yeah i said i'd like this or that job because i have nothing better to say, it's my dream if you want, i have to pretend something. i wish i had any monetizable skills. or any skills really. but i don't. yay. i'm gonna be stuck living with my parents forever. that's what i fucking deserve.

woooooo the guilt is eating me! it's eating me alive!

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

final girl | coriolanus snow

pairing: ghostface!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you've become a target, the final girl of a killer's movie.

warnings: dark content, possessive!coryo, dark!coryo, obsession/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes(if you squint), stalking, murder, blood and gore, coryo being delusional, threats of violence, violence, sort of modern!au, no use of y/n, naive!reader, r is too kind.

It was october, not only that but there was a killer on the loose. You were by yourself, much to your parent’s annoyance. You told them,”I’m 18 Mom. I technically could be on my own. Please, let me be on my own. I’ll be fine. I’ve got friends who can help me. And 911 on the phone.”

Your mother sighed. "The capitol’s safe enough. Fine. But if anything happens-” “Protocol, I know, I know all the rules, You replied. You did. Normally, your parents weren't like this. But there was a killer. A fucking killer. Of course they'd be worried for their only child.

You were also the heir to wealthy parents and known in the capitol. Your parents were. If there would be a target, you might be on that list. Either way, you were going to be as safe as you could be.

. You place yourself on the couch. The staff, which included the maids, were on their day-offs today, which was unfortunate for you. Tonight, would be different, though, you had no idea.

Clemensia, your best friend, texted you.

Home alone?

You replied almost right away.

Yeah. It took convincing, though. My parents are kind of protective.

You knew she was sighing and rolling her eyes at your comment. Clemensia was logical, so were you. The both of you were, but sometimes you could be reckless. Her, too, but not tonight apparently.

For good reason. I mean, there's a killer out there.

You wanted to just watch a movie, something that was a form of entertainment in the Capitol, obviously. You decide a horror movie was too gruesome for a time like this, and were planning to watch a rom-com. A surprise, considering you loved horror movies.

Yeah. I feel too... scared to watch a scary movie. That's how bad this is getting.

That was the truth, you were utterly terrified. Terrified to even watch scary movies, as if it'd become true. You check your phone. Updates in the group chat continue.

Your friend, Coriolanus, was discussing the killer. But also said that everyone should be careful. It was a known fact he liked you, but you were oblivious.

You were always so naïve.

They say he calls his victims before he kills them. I hope that's not true. I mean, what if he gets one of us?

The latest kills were students at the school, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson. This was tragic, and they didn't deserve it. They really didn't. And it made you wonder, why?

Why?

Clemensia was texting you and then calls. “Hey Clemmie, You say. “Hey! She replied. She sounded a little better but still, she was probably terrified just like you. "You okay, Clemmie, why did you call? You ask her, naturally. "Clemmie" was a nickname given in your childhood. You had a friend group that all had your own nicknames, including you. "I don't know, I don't think I'd like to be by myself, She admitted.

"That's fair, You agreed."I don't think... Hold on. I'm getting another call. Can I be right back on that?" "Mhm, it's not your fault, Clemensia said.

You end that call, and while the number was not one you'd recognize, sometimes you don't put in numbers on accident, or change the name. It happens. "Hello? You say, kindly. No matter who called, you tried to be as polite as you could be. 

"Hello."

Already, you know this is a stranger. For one thing, the voice isn't one yo recognize, secondly, the number wasn't in your contacts. So it wasn't one you accidentally kept the number on. Unless this was a prank. 

"Sorry I have to ask, who is this?"

"Who is this?"

"I already asked that. What number are you trying to reach?"

"I don't know, what number is this?"

You chuckle. "You called me, shouldn't you know?"

"I guess not."

In your mind, you conclude that this must be a wrong number. It wasn't his fault, so you weren't going to be annoyed by it. They seemed to be confused. "Wrong number, it's not your fault, it happens." You hang it up, and it was eerily similar to the beginning of Scream. You brushed it off, and planned to call Clemensia back, when the number called again.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number."  

"Oh, then why did you call again?"

"To apologize."

"Well, I forgive you, so-"

"Wait, can we talk?"

You sigh. "I'd love to. But i've got a phone call to do, bye, buddy." You hang up again. You innocently think of this as some joke. So, entertaining the prankster wouldn't be too bad for you. 

However, you needed to call Clemensia back, ASAP. As you were about to tap her name to call, the prankster called again. However, you weren't going to be mad or annoyed, you were that good of a person.

Maybe naïve for your own good, but kind nonetheless. 

"Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" 

"Oh, hi, um... I just don't know you at all. Sorry."

"You seem very sweet and understanding."

"I try to be. You never know. What's your name?"

"You tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."

You place a piece of popcorn in my mouth, my soda beside me by the movie." As much as it'd be nice to make another friend, you'd have to earn that." A while ago, you texted your boyfriend to come over. Where was he? Your parents were gone. This was your chance to finally get intimate tonight. Still, no response. You texted him a couple of times. You frown. Is he cheating on me? You thought.

"What are you eating?"

"Popcorn, You immediately reply. "I'm watching a movie."

"What movie?"

"A rom-com, I can't bring myself to watch a horror movie."

"Rom-coms are cheesy, I think horror movies are incredible."

"Ah, a horror nerd, You joke. "Well, I normally think so, too. But, it's just... whatever."

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

You smile. "I guess I'd say, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It's interesting."

"A good choice. It's brutal."

You check your phone a couple of times, still on the call, your boyfriend messaged once. He was on his way, and apologized for not being there. You accepted it, he was a good boyfriend, and was normally on time or responded, he was perfect. So, you forgave him immediately. 

"So, you've got a boyfriend?"

His voice was flirty, and suggestive, even. But you weren't flattered or anything. You loved your boyfriend. "Mhm, You say."So, I'm not interested. We're happy together."

"Ah, lovebirds. How cute."

His voice was sarcastic. However, you still tried to remain kind. You didn't say anything as a response though. 

"You never said your name."

"Why do you want my name?"

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

You freeze. "What did you say?"

"I want to know who I'm talking to.""

You shake your head."No. That's not what I heard." Panicked, you text your boyfriend and Clemensia. Someone was watching you."I'm hanging up."

"Why would you do that, Doll?"

"I... I just have to go."

"Don't hang up."

You text your boyfriend once more, hoping he'd come quick. Instead, however, you got a disturbing response.

Don't hang up on me. It won't end well for you.

You lock every door in your house, this creep wouldn't come in your house. But you also weren't ignoring his calls anymore certainly. He calls again, and you pick up. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk, doll."

"No, clearly not. Otherwise-"

"You've caught me. I want to play a game. Like I played with your boyfriend."

"What did you do with him?"

"Go check for yourself."

You whimper, stepping towards the back of your large home. You had a feeling it'd be in your backyard, the answer you were looking for. When you turn on the lights, You scream. Your phone drops, but thankfully doesn't break. Your boyfriend, was hung and gutted in your tree, bloody and all. You began to sob, shakily picking your phone up. "Please, why did you kill him?"

"You belong to me, doll. You're mine. I won't let anyone take you from me."

In that moment, a figure with a ghostly mask bursts in, grabbing you from behind, hands on your waist as you begin to fight, what was he going to do? Take you? You kick, your elbow kicking his rips, and a groan came out from him. You run. You held your phone, call ended. You take this chance and call 911. 

Ghostface gets up, and mid call, is fast and you dropped your phone. You yelp, trying everything in your power.You’re thrown onto the floor and now he’s on top of you, knife in hand was clean but probably washed off the blood after murdering your boyfriend.

what was he going to do with you?

He must be contemplating what he was planning to do. Your legs were stuck, so you couldn’t kick him. He tilts his head. His knife trails down your body, suggestively but also mocking you, it's between your breasts, and then you grab his wrist, trying to pry him off of you. But he's stronger. He says,"Be a good girl and I won't hurt you." He must mean death, so you nod, still crying. The police would come. 

You must've hit the floor hard, because your vision was foggy, and you were close to passing out. If this was death, you were ready. But you had no injuries. You clearly were just going unconscious. You use your free arm to take his mask off.

Your eyes widen."Coryo?" You barely see the grin on his face before you black out.

[supernova-stardust]

i should be working on about a million other things, but instead i started writing a new jegulus fic lmao

modern au, sirius and regulus have a good relationship, coffee shop au, regulus learns why life is worth living (spoiler: it’s james. and a cat.)

untitled, 2769 words, unfinished but this snippet leaves off at a good point

***vague mentions of sui attempt, nothing specific or descriptive***

fic after the break 🖤

Regulus thought he knew loneliness before, but nothing prepared him for the emptiness that he was left with upon returning home after his hospitalization. One of the stipulations of his discharge was that he couldn’t stay home alone for the first couple of weeks and so his older brother, Sirius, trails through the door behind him with a gym bag full of clothes and other things he deemed necessary. He closes the door to Regulus’ apartment behind him then drops the bag on the floor next to him as he kicks off his combat boots. Regulus stares at the mismatched socks on his feet, one green and one blue, and wonders if there will ever be a time when he learns to care so little about details like that. Where Sirius learned to care less about what other people think about him and the way he presents himself, Regulus internalized perfection in every facet of his life.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Regulus says as he turns away and walks further into his apartment that feels less like home than it ever did. He can’t say that he found comfort in the hospital, far from it, but something about his stay made everything here feel less and less like his.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice is thick with concern as he hangs his leather jacket on the hook in the entryway. “Can’t we just chill for a bit first? Maybe watch a movie or something?”

“I’m not gonna kill myself in the shower, Sirius,” he shoots over his shoulder and keeps walking towards the bathroom. “But I might if I don’t wash the film from the hospital off my skin.”

Sirius storms up behind him and grabs his shoulder, whipping him around to look him in the eyes. “Don’t fucking joke like that. Not yet. I really thought I lost you, you know.” His eyes well with tears and his face pales and before Regulus can comprehend what’s happening, he’s being pulled into a tight embrace. He’s pretty sure he’s been hugged more times in the past few weeks than he ever has in his entire life.

Regulus finds himself rubbing Sirius’ back, internally cringing at the idea of soothing his brother when he was the one who was pushed so far by the demands of his everyday life that he opted to end it. “I promise to stop making jokes about killing myself for one week if you let me go take a shower, deal?”

“Leave the door open?” Sirius asks as he pulls away and wipes away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks.

“If it’ll make you feel better, sure.”

“It will.”

“Fine,” Regulus agrees as he walks down the hall to the bathroom. He shucks off his clothes and tosses them into the hamper. The hoodie and sweats were clean just a couple of hours ago, but he smells so strongly of hospital and sanitizer that he’s deemed them dirty already. He’ll probably need to wash them multiple times before he’s able to get the smell fully out of them and even then, he’s not sure that he wants to see those particular clothes ever again.

He scrubs at his skin, washing himself at least a half a dozen times before his skin turns pink and he decides that he smells enough like his typical cedar and sea salt soap to be considered clean. His hair is next. The hospital provided 3-in-1 product caused his usual soft waves to matte and lay flat on his head, so he takes his time scrubbing with his shampoo a few times before slathering more conditioner than he would typically ever use and gently detangles with his fingers. When his hair is detangled and his fingers are pruned, he finally turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he nearly trips. Sirius is sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, one leg bent and the other outstretched across the narrow hallway. He bangs his head on the wall when he looks up at Regulus with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I was worried.”

“Are you gonna be like this the whole time?”

“At least for a few weeks,” he closes his eyes and leans his head on the wall behind him. “I’m a bit clingy now, Moony has encouraged my bad behavior and I’m afraid you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“You’re literally 28, you’re not old.”

Sirius barks a laugh and tucks his feet under himself so he can stand up. “You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Regulus deadpans as he walks past Sirius to his bedroom so he can put on a fresh change of clothes.

When Sirius had started dating Remus, or Moony as he tends to call him, Regulus knew their parents wouldn’t be happy, but he hadn’t thought it would change the trajectory of all of their lives. Sirius had decided to show their parents, rather than tell them, about his new boyfriend by bringing him home for Sunday dinner. Growing up Catholic, Sundays were a day reserved for devotion to God and family. Sirius was in college, Regulus a senior in high school still living at home, and had told their parents that he had been seeing someone special for a few months. Their parents invited Sirius and “the lovely lady” for dinner and instead it was Remus who walked through the door with his fingers interlaced with Sirius’. That was the most tense and silent meal that had ever occurred at the Black household.

When Sirius had returned home for the summer, their parents gave him an ultimatum: conversion therapy or be disowned. Sirius had packed his bags that night.

Regulus hadn’t heard from Sirius for a few months after that. He got accepted into his first choice college and tried to distract himself with schoolwork. He avoided getting close with any of his classmates and did his best to make himself scarce when his dorm mate, Evan, was around. He’d go into a local cafe with his noise canceling headphones and bury himself in studying while drinking more coffee than was probably healthy. On one of those days, Sirius had plopped himself in the seat across from him and glowered. His hair was longer, half of it pulled away from his face in a messy bun, and he had a few tattoos visible on his neck, collarbone, and knuckles.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?” Sirius had asked when Regulus wrenched his headphones away from his ears.

“The fuck? You’re the one not answering me.” Regulus had slammed his laptop shut and returned the glare that Sirius was giving him.

Turned out, their parents had blocked the brothers from being able to communicate. When Regulus had confronted them about it, they claimed it was for Regulus’ own good. They didn’t want their ‘only son to be influenced by sinners.’ At that, Regulus had laughed and said that he’d known he was gay since he was a child. He hasn’t spoken to his parents since.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sirius yells from outside his bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Do you really have to ask?” Regulus tugs his shirt on as he shouts back.

He hears Sirius groan before yelling “don’t you ever get sick of watching 10 Things I Hate About You?”

“No, actually.” Regulus deadpans, walking into the living room to see Sirius sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote. “There’s something soothing about watching Patrick fuck up so royally and still win the girl at the end.”

“You need more therapy.”

“Obviously. Now put the movie on, I’ll make popcorn.”

***

In the morning, Regulus goes through his morning routine and feels his nerves settle for the first time in weeks. The thing no one talks about when you’re hospitalized is how disrupted your everyday life is. Of course there’s the whole ‘in the hospital’ bit, but it’s the little routines that calm Regulus’ nerves that, because of his particular brand of mental illness, they always try to interrupt. Exposure therapy or something, they say. He thinks it’s bullshit.

And so he finds comfort in waking up at exactly seven, stretching for fifteen minutes, brushing his teeth, showering, being meticulous about his skincare and styling his hair. These are all little things that he usually takes for granted in his daily life that suddenly became impossible to uphold when other people were checking in on him and watching his every move. He dresses in an oversized burgundy knit sweater and black trousers and grabs his bag. Pulling out his headphones, he slips them around his neck, then double checks that his laptop is safely inside and heads towards the living area towards the front door. Sirius is laying on the couch with blankets wrapped tightly around his body and surprisingly, is awake and staring at his phone.

“Didn’t think you’d be awake yet,” he says to Sirius as he grabs his favorite black oxfords and slides them on.

Sirius grunts sleepily in response. “Didn’t get much sleep, if I’m honest. Your couch sucks.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Regulus says blandly. “I know they said I couldn’t be alone, but I’m fine—”

“Reggie, I’m staying.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Me staying is the only reason you were allowed to leave, you know that. You were at that meeting.”

“Fine,” Regulus relents. “I’m going out, I’ll be gone for a few hours. Do you want coffee when I come back?”

“Are you going to Galactic Grounds?”

“I go there every day, Sirius. They’re the only place that makes good coffee around here.” Plus the guy that works there is cute as hell, but Regulus refuses to say that part out loud to his older brother. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Yeah, I’d love coffee. Text me when you get there?”

“Sirius—”

“And when you’re headed home? I promise I’ll chill out in a few days, just humor me. Please?”

“Fine, bye.”

“Love you, Reggie.”

“Love you, Sirius.”

***

As he makes his way into the cafe, Regulus pulls his headphones down to hang around his neck. The shop is generally pretty quiet, but the whirring of machines and general chatter are enough to make him flinch anyway. He stands in line, waiting as patiently as possible and mindlessly scrolling on his phone. When he looks up and glances behind the counter, he sees the cute guy who always makes his coffee just right. James.

James looks up from the machine where he’s steaming milk and fumbles the little metal pitcher. The smile on his face lights up the entire shop. “Reg, hey!” James seemingly abandons the steaming milk to stare at him until the customer at the front of the line clears their throat. James’ cheeks turn red. He apologizes to the customer and then directs himself back at Regulus. “Can you stay so we can catch up?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be here for a while. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” He really didn’t. The novel he’s been working on isn’t exactly going anywhere and his and Sirius’ Uncle Alphard made sure that all of their needs were met, so ‘work’ wasn’t exactly a necessity. It was just something to keep himself busy and to take his mind off things. ‘Things’ being mostly coping with mental illness and childhood trauma, if he’s honest.

Regulus goes to pull out his wallet to pay for the coffee when James stops him. “Nah,” he says. “On the house. It’s just a black coffee, Reg.”

Regulus cringes a bit at feeling like he owes back a favor, but tries to shake the feeling. This was something they worked on in group therapy; sometimes people just want to do nice things for you. Let them. And so he picks up the coffee and brings it over to his usual table in the corner. He settles into the comfortable booth and pulls out his laptop, staring at the screen asking for his password while he processes the fact that James wanted to catch up with him. Catch up? They’ve never even had a conversation beyond simple pleasantries.

He moves to readjust his headphones over his ears when he notices James throwing his apron on the rack near the bar and striding over to where he’s seated.

“Hey,” James says as he noisily pulls a chair out so he can sit. When he sits, he scooches himself in, the chair dragging and screeching the whole time. Regulus does his best not to make an expression at the sounds, but clearly his face betrays him because James quickly apologizes.

“Hi,” Regulus tentatively replies. He has no idea what he’s doing, normally he avoids conversations like this. The rehearsed small talk and polite niceties are fine for transactional interactions, but sitting here with James staring at him, he feels exposed. “So,” he tries. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” James grins. “How about you? You usually come in daily and I haven’t seen you for weeks. Did you do anything fun? I missed seeing you.”

Regulus flinches at that. Of course sweet, wholesome James would immediately want to know what fun and exciting things he got up to while he was away. It would never even cross his mind that Regulus had disappeared because he tried to off himself, then when Sirius found him, he’d been hospitalized for weeks. “No,” Regulus says in as level of a tone as he can manage. “I didn’t do anything fun, but I did do lots of crafts.”

“Oh, uh— Okay. That’s cool. I didn’t know you were crafty.”

“I’m not.”

James stares at him in confusion before he laughs, bright and carefree. “Fuck, you’re funny Reg. I don’t even think you mean to be.”

“Look, I do have a lot of work to do—”

“Sorry, yeah. My break is almost over too, but I just wanted to… I know this isn’t professional or anything, and honestly I’ve been avoiding it because I know this is a weird dynamic where I make you the perfect coffee every day and you don’t wanna lose that in case it goes poorly, but I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while and just— You not being around for a bit made me worried I wouldn’t get a chance to ask you again, so while I still have the guts, will you let me take you out sometime?”

“You want to go out on a date… with me?” Regulus has never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. This sunshine golden retriever of a man wanted to take him out on a date?

“I mean— Sorry if I read you wrong, if you’re not interested in guys, or uh… me, that’s cool. I’ll keep making your perfect coffee and no harm done. I just figured I’d shoot my shot, y’know?”

“I am— Interested. In guys.” Regulus pauses for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of himself. He hasn’t had anyone ask him out on a proper date before. Typically, he just goes about things the old fashioned way: dating apps and swiping until he finds a reasonable match. It never goes well, but it never goes poorly enough that it’s stopped him from the cycle either. When he looks at James, really takes him in and realizes that he hasn’t explained that he wants to go on the date, he quickly adds, “I’m interested in you too. I’ve always thought you were cute.”

James beams then hands him his phone. “Can you enter your number? I’ll text you and we can make more concrete plans?”

At first, Regulus is shocked by the casualness at which James just… hands him his phone. Then he realizes that James probably never had parents who pried or jealous ex boyfriends who demanded to read every text exchange. He enters his phone number in a new text and texts himself the star emoji so that he has James’ number too and hands back his phone.

James glances at his phone and then asks, “Why the star emoji?”

“For my name.”

James stares at him in confusion, but as he opens his mouth to ask he hears his co-worker calling out for him to come back from his break. “Fuck, I’m late. Sorry—”

“Go, James.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later okay?”

“Okay.” Regulus smiles softly as he watches James stand up from the chair across from him and rush back to his place behind the bar.

[cait-writes]

Mine (Fluff)

TW: DV/Abuse

"Yes, you did!" He yelled, yanking on my arm to pull me back.

The arguing started since we left his buddy's house when after a few beers anything I said or did with anyone was considered flirting. We were driving back to my boyfriend's place when I wanted to go home and let things settle until he was sober.

"Brian, I'm not going through this again! I was not flirting - I was simply trying to tell him that we should stop drinking as we had to drive home. He couldn't hear me over everyone, so yeah, I leaned in a little. Nothing happened!" I exclaimed.

"You were all over him Y/N!"

I rolled my eyes and stared out the window. The farther away from my place, the worse my anxiety got. The thought to jump out of the car popped into my head and quite honestly, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Brian continued to yell and scream, calling me everything under the book. As I tried to build up the courage to get out, I noticed Brian started to swerve.

"Brian! Watch the damn road! You're going to get us killed!"

"Fuck you! I'm fine."

I grabbed my seatbelt and quickly undid it before pulling the door handle, thrusting myself forward. Brian swerved closer to the curb so I landed on the grass easily. The impact hurt, but it was manageable as I got up onto my feet and booked it. I looked over my shoulder and noticed his headlights so I went down a random alley and hid behind some garbage cans. I pulled out my phone and dialed Colby's number, hoping and praying he'd answer.

The first time it went to voicemail and my anxiety rose as I heard a car approach. "Damn it Colby, I need help. Please!" I whispered, pulling myself closer a garage and pulled the cans closer.

Colby's ringtone rang and I immediately pulled my phone away from my ear, "What the hell did he do now? Where are you?" He demanded.

"I'll explain when I see you, but please hurry. I jumped out of the car and I think he's looking for me. I hear a car." I share my location with him and he texted a thumbs up.

"I'm close by. I'll be there in a few minutes. Don't hang up."

I could hear the sound of the Corolla's engine and it roar as Colby sped up. It was about five minutes later when the familiar red car rolled down the alleyway. I dashed for his car and climbed into the passenger seat, throwing my arms around him as the tears began to fall.

"I'm so sorry, thank you for getting me!" I cried.

He held me tight in his arms before patting my back, signaling for me to sit back so we could leave. We stopped through the drive-thru to get some ice cream before settling back at Colby's as he didn't want me at mine in case Brian showed up.

Colby gave me the set of PJs that I usually wear when I'm here and gave me a sad smile. After the crying had stopped, it was hard to look up at him. I could feel the disappointment radiating off of him. After I changed into the clothes, we sat on his couch and put on some random show to play in the background.

We sat in silence for a bit before I started eating my ice cream. As my jaw opened, I winced. The adrenaline from earlier began wearing off and I could feel how sore my body was from the impact. I didn't remember hitting my head on the ground, but my jaw hurt like hell.

I went to take another bite of my ice cream when Colby leaned forward and ran his hand over my cheek, "Does it hurt?" He asked softly, his eyes scanning me up and down for any other injuries. He was gentle as he continued looking me over. 

"I'll survive..." I mumbled. I've dealt with worse from Brian, but not that Colby knew. Brian had been physical before, a few times. Brian left his hand print on my neck and makeup wouldn't cover it for almost a week. My excuse for not being around? I caught a bad stomach bug. I could tell that Colby wasn't impressed, but he never let on otherwise. 

"Not what I asked." He said sternly, his fingers gripped my chin and made me look up at him.

I took a deep breath before slowly nodding my head, my eyes burned with the threat of tears. "I'm fine, Colbs. I've dealt with worse. Way worse." I muttered, leaning forward and resting my head on his shoulder. He froze momentarily. "I don't want to talk about it right now, please. In the morning?" I asked, peeking up at him with a pleading look.

From my peripheral, I could see him clenching his fist, but he slowly wrapped his arm around my shoulders and rested his head on mine. It took a few steady breaths before he spoke again. "In the morning, we're gonna talk. But I am going to say this, Y/N, he's done. You're done. He's no good for you and you don't deserve the shit he's put you through...got it?" His voice was laced with venom, but I could see the anger he was holding back. 

A small smile formed on my lips, "Yes, sir."

The subject was dropped and we focused on the show that played, it wasn't good so we finished up our ice cream and got ready for bed. I pulled back the covers and as I snuggled in I was greeted with Colby's scent.  In my half groggy state, I felt Colby snake his arms around me and pulled me close before whispering, "You're mine."

[atlafan]

“You’re not the third base coach, you know?” Layna teased Harry. “Well, you could coach people on third base, but that would be an adults only thing.”

“We have been to every single one of your nephew’s little league games this season. This is a big game, I’m paying atten-that was a ball, ump!”

“You’re going to embarrass him.”

“Plenty of other parents are-good eye, Joshy! It wouldn’t kill you to show your support.”

“Alright.” Layna clears her throat. “Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow…” the other players on the bench start singing along, and Harry rolls his eyes. “Did you even play sports growing up?”

“Of course I did.” Harry scoffs. “I played soccer, baseball, and I ran cross country.”

“Ooohh, a jock.”

“I wouldn’t put myself in that category. I didn’t do well in my classes, so I let myself be a good athlete. Oh, that call was bullshit. That’s a ball!”

Josh frowns as he comes back over to the bench, pulling his helmet off. Harry goes right over to him, and takes a knee to be at eye level.

“Hey, don’t let it get to you.” He assures the young boy. “That umpire needs better glasses. He probably knows the coach on the other team. You did great up there.”

“I should have swung. Grandpa always says to go down swinging.” Josh pouts.

“Next time you’re up to bat you can do that. Shake it off, yeah? No matter what, Auntie Layna and I are taking you for pizza and ice cream afterwards.”

“No way?! Just us three?”

“Just us three.”

“Cool!” Josh heads over to his coach and his teammates, feeling much better about his strikeout.

Harry makes his way back over to Layna and puts his arm around her shoulders. She looks up at him, grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She giggles and buries her face in his chest. Harry laughs softly and curls his finger under Layna’s chin so she’ll look up at him. He shuffles them over to the side of the bleachers so they’re not front and center in everyone’s view. “It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me. Make fun of me for being like a baseball dad.”

“I wasn’t going to. I got that out of my system before.” She bites her bottom lip as she looks up at him. “You’re really part of the family.”

“I like your family. Well, not so much your parents, they’re in sane. But your brother’s kids are cool.”

“They love you.”

“I like being involved. I should volunteer next season.”

“It would take you an hour to get out of the city every day to make it here in time.”

“Meh.” He shrugs. “The coaches clearly aren’t teaching them fundamentals. They’re not boosting their confidence.” Layna giggles into his chest again. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Her arms a wrap around his neck. “I just love you.”

“I love you too. Now tell me why you’re giggling. I’m obviously doing something.”

“I was just thinking…you’re going to be a great dad someday, and I really hope it’s to my children.”

“Who else’s father would I be?”

“I don’t know. You could decide you don’t like me anymore.”

“Not possible.” He looks around before sneaking a kiss. “Let’s go have sex in the car.”

“Harry!” She squeals. “We can’t.”

“Obviously not here, we’ll drive somewhere.”

“We can’t just leave. We promised pizza and ice cream.”

“You can’t just bring up wanting me to be the father of your kids and not let me do something about it.” He pinches her hip. “That’s a paddlin’.”

“Noooo, don’t be mean to me, daddy.”

“Now you’re really gonna get it.”

“After pizza and ice cream, I’ll let you fuck me in the car before we drive home.”

“And then?”

“And then you can fuck me all night long and make the bed shake and I’ll be a good girl and take everything you give me and thank you for it.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He grins wickedly. “Consider the paddlin’ rescinded.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

No Complaints Blurb

[utilitycaster]

did you have any more thoughts about the "going down equals a level of exhaustion" house rule for 5e? a group I'm involved in is considering adding it, and though I've strenuously argued against it, the retort seems to be that a good healer would be spending those spells anyway, so the healbot concern is irrelevant. As the person playing the healer in the group I'd be leaving if they choose to implement it, but I'd like to give it one more good argument before I pull that card.

So my arguments here are somewhat subjective and I think gain efficacy if you are willing to gently but firmly say "I would leave this group over this choice," at this time.

My first one is a pretty basic one. For all the complaints people have about it, I actually find D&D 5e is pretty balanced, rules as written. Sure, there are rules I ignore, but most of those are like...very finicky little things (eg: small creatures not being able to use heavy weapons; it's not like halflings have such great racial abilities that you must nerf them by not letting them use a warhammer) and not core elements of gameplay. It was pretty thoroughly playtested as is. I think DMs who try to play with this kind of thing tend to be either be people who are struggling with a way to make encounters more dangerous but haven't used the (RAW) tools at their disposal; or are the sort of people I've described before who are incapable of enjoying something unless they can figuratively pee on it to mark their territory. The former is fixable; the latter type can change but it tends to have to come from within. Though I will say: Rusty Quill Gaming's Unconscious Rule was that you get a scar (no mechanical penalties unless you want) whenever you're knocked unconscious. It was purely a story thing, but if your DM is just itching to homebrew something in order to carve their initials onto the tree of D&D instead of leaving well enough alone, that might be a way to let them feel like they've homebrewed something relating to unconsciousness.

The second one is that there's multiple approaches to healing! I do tend to be a fairly proactive healer when I play one, but letting people go down is a valid strategy. Plus, shit happens! People roll really badly or the DM rolls really well or you roll all 1s on your healing dice and bam, they're unexpectedly out. It puts an undue burden on the healer not just in terms of pushing them towards a very specific playstyle, but at high levels pushes them to burn extra 5th levels (and diamond dust) on Greater Restoration). It also simultaneously makes it perhaps advantageous to not heal someone who's gone down. If they go unconscious and you're not able to heal them up beyond what they're likely to lose in another round, maybe it's better to leave them making death saves (or do Spare the Dying) so that they don't have two levels of exhaustion...but then they might die. It's a really screwy thing because the game isn't fucking balanced for this because it's stupid. It also can push the party into the One Combat Per Day behavior that has been rightfully criticized.

And finally, tying back to both of the above, there's a reason why going unconscious doesn't kill people in D&D and that's because it makes for a good story! It adds drama and tension, but you don't lose the character. This both penalizes you for allowing that drama to happen and ratchets the tension to a level that isn't really fun.

Another thing I'd add is to ask why specifically they want to add it because if someone says "it's more realistic," for example, you have my permission to say "in the pretend to be an elf wizard game?" and make a jerk-off motion. You may want to tone that down if you wish to part on good terms but like, for real, if they want a more realistic game, perhaps they should find one. I'm not a Pathfinder person myself but I would never begrudge other people from playing it in their own homes and I think PF1e (or an older version of D&D) and its less generous overnight healing might be worth your while. Perhaps exploring another system would be the better option. I think people who wander around the internet whining about how other people play D&D are sad losers, but they do have a point that if you're tinkering with core rules (as opposed to like, homebrewing a race, class/subclass, item, spell, feat, or monster) that's a sign you should probably look for another game.

So with all that said: I think it's fair to point out a (more tactful) version of all of the above but also say "I feel, as the healer, this would make my role a lot less fun, and I would leave this group over this choice." If you say it politely and calmly it may make your DM realize how much you dislike it. That doesn't mean they won't barrel ahead anyway, because people have free will and whatnot, but in a social situation, sometimes logical arguments aren't helpful! Sometimes it's better to just say "I've said why I don't like this, and I hope we can find a compromise, but ultimately you can do what you want; I can also do what I want, and I don't want to be here if you disregard my input on something that affects my enjoyment."

[waitineedaname]

Um. do you think about how mr & mrs kageyama are undoubtedly on the Good-er side of the Parents scale but also are probably viewed differently by ritsu and shigeo. like i think about how ritsu probably had to be the easy one (the one that doesn't need you to care about them and comfort them) since shigeo has probably come home beaten up and bloodied enough times for the both of them?? also i feel like they might've said something like "well shigeo you don't HAVE to do [thing that will make any parent happy/proud] right ritsu :)" at some point. like idkkk i feel like that is definitely part of why ritsu feels so pressured to be twice as good at whatever he does (to make up for whatever mob lacks) but also if anyone said that to me i'd kill myself on the spot because it puts Zero trust in mob's abilities? like i feel it doesn't give him a chance to try because well ritsu will do it anyways why do i need to :/ (but then body improvement club happened. W)

anyways i just thing his parents (unintentionally) put sooo much pressure on ritsu. like the bar for being Good is drastically different for ritsu and shigeo*. and pre-claw ritsu thought that half of this pressure would probably disappear if mob did what he was ""supposed"" to do as the Older Sibling which might be one of the many many reasons ritsu thought he hated him?

*marathon arc is the first instance that comes to mind cuz...idk..before it happens they're like Hm. we should go wait in the middway of the path for shigeo (who waited for ritsu at the finish line?🤨). and after it they're like hehe ritsu got 9th place and shigeo did his best :) (this just sounds. damn. the bar's that low/high?). and both of these are normal! considering how shigeo and ritsu are! but i also feel like they're only normal because that's what you'd expect from shigeo and ritsu respectively which kind of. fucked up my worldview.

okayyy this got long. Sowwy. 😆

the kageyama parents make me NUTS when I think about them too hard bc they're probably the best parents in the series and definitely the most normal, but with being normal comes very normal flaws and parenting fuck ups, like comparing their sons. like comparing kids against each other is a very normal and common thing for parents to do, but it fucking sucks, and it's only made worse with the specific baggage the brother have

they absolutely put so much pressure on ritsu, which is one of the components of him snapping in the cleanup arc. he's like,, the ideal that they compare shigeo too, like they're always like "shigeo, why don't you get better grades, like ritsu. shigeo, why don't you stop doing weird things, like ritsu." I feel like the best example of this is these two pages from the cleanup arc (chapter 23, if you're curious)

literally every day I think about "ritsu is way smarter than I am. he doesn't do anything weird" [panel of ritsu looking so fucking haunted]

I'm going to put the rest of this under a read more because I had a Lot To Say

anyway, this sets up the expectations for the two of them. shigeo is the one who struggles at school, who messes up, whose psychic powers do weird things. ritsu is the star student, the perfect son, the Normal One. neither of these expectations are fair to them at all, especially since shigeo works really fucking hard when he sets his mind to something, and ritsu has to wear the mask of normalcy and perfection even if it doesn't feel right. it puts too much pressure on ritsu and sets mob up with the expectations of failure! goddammit!!

I don't necessarily blame the kageyama parents, I mean like I said, this is a very normal thing for parents to do, especially with kids so close in age. I've been compared to my stepsister, I've seen this happen to friends who are close in age to their siblings. it sucks ass, but it's a very normal flaw for a family to have. but also, even though the series really emphasizes that psychic powers are just a normal thing, I don't think the kageyama parents were equipped to deal with the specific issues their kids have bc of psychic powers. I can't help but wonder how much they know about that part of their sons' lives... the more I think about it, the more I think that ritsu definitely didn't tell them the truth about the first ???% incident, he definitely lied to protect his brother because I feel like they would treat shigeo differently if they knew he almost killed his brother and several teenagers at age ten. and it's unclear how much, if anything, they know about the major arcs of the show. do they know ritsu was kidnapped? do they know shigeo was trapped in a mental hellscape for six months? I'm pretty sure ritsu actively hid the events of the world domination arc from them. we see their mom watching the news report in the confession arc -- did she see her son on the screen?

idk, I just get the impression that the brothers don't really let their parents into that part of their lives, which means they still get treated normally but also means their parents don't really understand them. I think that's part of why reigen was so important to mob's development as a kid, because he gave him a person he could go to about things he couldn't talk about with his parents. it also means ritsu was especially isolated because he didn't have that kind of person, at least not until he and shou became friends

also what you said about ritsu being the "easy one", that fits directly into the way I think about both of the kageyama brothers being autistic. I think mob was much more visibly autistic, probably needed more support, and because ritsu didn't need the same support, everyone assumed ritsu must be allistic. I think he knew he was the "easy one" between the two of them and I think that got wrapped up in him masking a LOT to make things easier on his parents so they could focus on shigeo. this kid is so damn undiagnosed that I don't think he even realizes he might also be autistic until his teenage years at least

something something psychic powers as a metaphor for autism something something ritsu desperately trying to seem normal because he doesn't have powers, but also desperately wanting to get powers and stop having to act normal. this kid is so fucking sick of masking.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

hi! please share your headcanons about jay. thanks!

ooooooooh sure thing let's get it!!

(also please keep in mind that soke was literally my first time dipping back into dc after a LONG while, so i have a bit of catch-up to do in terms of characters and stories, and thus some of my knowledge might be outdated!!! also i love jay but i do consider myself still very new to understanding him and thus most of these will be silly fun :333)

damian makes fun of him for that all-black ninja-esque stealth suit he wore to sneak into star labs because there was literally NO POINT in jay trying to disguise himself like that when he didn't bother covering up his BRIGHT FUCKING PINK hair

yes i'm still mad about yes i would like to know his thought process

is it natural btw??? i've seen different takes around where people think it's dyed bc of his other version in aos:jk, but i feel like that's pretty unlikely considering it was shaved all the way down when he got taken prisoner and experimented on and it grew back exactly like that

for the record i'm not a hater i'm just saying 1) it made him a walking beacon and 2) it being natural is so fucking funny to me since he clearly didn't inherit it from his mom, which begs the question:

who the fuck is jay's dad

while jay does care for all of the revolutionaries as their ally and everyone at the truth as their boss, and as an overall friend, i think that wink and the aerie are especially close to him and they consider each other family. they were pretty much the closest thing to adult supervision jay had for a while, and he relied on them a lot when he was settling down in metropolis and figuring out how to live alone

this meant that he called them for stupid things like "if something explodes in your microwave do you call the fire department", and not-stupid things like "help me open a bank account because metropolis bank has laws that won't let me do it by myself as a minor"

they were also the first people he came out to

jay loves them even if they CAN be really annoying

jay: "are you—are you guys ACTUALLY planning on shovel-talking superman" wink: "technically, he's superman's son" the aerie: "and if he's late to the coffee shop, i'm taking points off"

i think jay would get along with tim actually

the dude is an underground hacktivist refugee, investigative journalist, and a former president's son. he's probably used to always looking over his shoulder, ready to be jumped at a moment's notice. he's got a plan for everything but the plans only exist inside his head because he can't risk hard copies being found or digital ones being hacked. he's memorized them all. they're either alphabetized or mentally color-coded. we're talking levels of elaborate just-in-case getaways and meticulously planned investigations that would get a normal reporter killed if they asked the wrong question. it's dedication to a terrifying degree

yeah tim would definitely rock with him

jay has this neat little trick where if he's in a situation in which someone's poisoned his food and he has to eat it/can't let them know he knows, he just partially phases his organs so that the food falls through his body a little bit at a time and never enters his digestive system

jon is HORRIFIED when he finds out. damian is really fucking impressed

does gamorra have its own language???? i feel like jay would be fluent in it if so. of course he would be. he'd do anything to keep part of home as close to his chest as possible

oh that's another thing i'll probs mess up on btw i am legit so confused on gamorra considering it's apparently in asia and i would assume has its own distinct culture? but jay's surname is japanese and that random kid on the boat has a japanese name so are they like. japanese-adjacent??? or is gamorra made up of multiple asian identities blended into one (read tags for clarification)

i should probably read absolute power shouldn't i

okay sorry that got WAY off topic but yeah jay is definitely someone who loved his home despite not being able to go back and did everything he could to maintain his ties

ALSO can we talk about jay being a student at metropolis college at seventeen???? did he skip a year of school when he got to the u.s.??? did he lie on forms or something??

like i don't think he's taking extra credit classes as a high school student because he was also advertising the media department when we saw him, and i don't think he'd be doing that if he was in high school

jon makes sense because he had a fake identity which COULD put him in college. but jay???

honestly lying on paper is such a jay nakamura thing to do if he doesn't want people tracking him down by cross-referencing his birthday with government records

jay nakamura's number-one tip of running an anonymous underground activist stream: hide all identifiable information from the government

(this does not work when you are widely recognized as superman's boyfriend)

also now that dick is backing the truth can we PLEASE get tim in on it. i think it'd be so fucking funny. i think he and jay would have a grand old time breaking into firewalls and digging through internet archives and exposing corrupt people

tim is like "FINALLY i have something fun to do at all those fucking galas bruce makes me go to" because jay needs some rich guy's vacation itinerary so he knows the prime time to break into his house and gather evidence for something

i just have so much appreciation for jay nakamura you guys i love him so much

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 25, 2021 8:00 p.m. the black pearl

[grant] well, i know it doesn’t fix the existential angst and you shouldn’t ever feel like it needs to go away instantly, but i guarantee you will be a good dad.

[grant] any kids you have will feel loved. they’ll be set up for the future no matter how everyone’s lives play out. i know you’ll do your best, and i know soobin will, too. you guys have worked so hard to have such a long and healthy and sincere relationship.

[grant] and the fact that you’re worried about any of this means you’re going to do a good job. shitty parents and shitty partners don’t ask if what they’re doing or about to do is wrong.

[grant] everyone is going to make mistakes sometimes but it’s about getting most of it right, and i believe you will. soobin doesn’t hold it over your head that for a while, your fear made you a little controlling. you improved and she forgave you. you’re smart, you’ll adapt, and most of all, you should know you’re loyal. at the end of the day, a parent who puts their kids first and never turns their back on them is the best parent in the world in my eyes.

[grant] mistakes can be forgiven if you put your kids first and treat them like a human being who matters.

[henry] thank you. i appreciate it. that means a lot coming from you.

[grant] and i understand your main fear in the first place. i've thought about it many times. i never worried about myself dying but others dying. elizabeth, uh...yeah. those big family losses seriously will ruin you forever in one way or another. the way you lost your father only makes it worse. it does strip away any feeling of invincibility you have.

[henry] you can say that again.

[henry] i'm glad someone understands.

[grant] you can never really know, i guess, what’s going to happen to you or to anyone you know, and it’s not helpful to say it’ll be fine because we all know crazy and terrible things happen. it's unfortunately mathematically true. but trust me, i'll kill you if you die!

[henry] you’ll kill me if i die? haha.

[henry] thanks for making me laugh, too.

[grant] yep. i will re-kill your ghost.

[henry] i'll kill you if you die.

[grant] thank you, buddy! you’re a real one.

[henry] dude, ugh, i googled life insurance policies a month ago. ew, adulthood.

[grant] life insurance is a good thing to have, though.

[henry] it is, it is. even if my hypothetical kids just buy a fucking pool with the money.

[grant] i mean, if it benefits them, right?

[henry] let me add a note to the policy saying you can either get an in-ground pool put in or free college tuition–one or the other.

[grant] does that include getting a sick ass waterfall feature installed on the pool or no?

[henry] by the way–

[henry] disclaimer that this is just an idea, not concrete at all, but soobin and i briefly mentioned moving back to korea as a way to make sure our kids have a good life.

[grant] wow, really? it is worth thinking about! it is rational. most of your family is here and all of soobin’s family does live here, and you do have to consider what’s best for you and your family, current and future. before i did move back home, when i was with you know who, i thought about this, too, if we ever had kids that maybe we could or should move back to michigan so they'd have my whole family around.

[grant] and just so it’s on the record, you have my full support in any decision here.

[grant] are you interested in moving back?

[henry] i don’t know. i haven’t lived here since i was five years old. i've only visited, and then came back for one year to do the military service because i was wary of giving up my citizenship. but i almost did because truly, i did not want to go into the army. that shit sucked.

[grant] what does soobin think?

[henry] well, it was her idea. i'm very whatever about wherever i live. i feel no strong pull one way or another at the moment. but it’s different for her.

[henry] she lived here much longer than me. she cares much more and has a preference. i mean, she spent pretty much her entire life here except since college and during the school semesters between sixth and twelfth grades because her parents sent her to a fancy private school there.

[henry] i will say, soobin’s main point isn’t wrong, and it's the one you brought up. most of our family is here. it’s like you and michigan. that’s where your folks are. and that support is invaluable when you have kids, both for their social development and for financial reasons. plus, my mom actually wants to move back. she never talks about it, but i know she does.

[grant] i get that, too.

[henry] like i said, she’s just never been the same since my dad died. which i don't fault her for. she does her best to be happy, you know, but i think she feels very alone, even more now that i don’t live on the upper peninsula anymore. she was with him forever. they were soulmates. and her life drastically changed after he died.

[henry] this has been the first time she's had a job since, god, the 1980s. she loves being an art teacher for school kids, but that's a huge change in addition to the sudden loneliness.

[henry] and on the loneliness side, she has your family and they've been close for a long time.

[grant] she was literally over at my aunt bridie's house the other day making shampoo with her.

[henry] yeah, so she sees them pretty often and she also has her book club and some other friends, but she knows way more people here. seoul's where all her family and friends are.

[henry] i want my mom to be happy, you know? it’s my job as her son, and i'm the only child she ever had. she doesn’t need me to look after her every day, not really, but i want to and she deserves that. and truth be told, a part of me believes that if she comes back, i would feel not very good about being away from her.

[henry] i think that if i encourage her to come back or talk to her about it and she does go through with it, that would sway me more to soobin’s side. again, i want my mom to be happy, and i'm also scared of losing her. it doesn’t matter if it’s sudden or slow. i don’t want to lose her, and especially not if i feel like i've spent my whole adult life away from her, not prioritizing what time is left with her.

[henry] not to be morbid, but she’s almost 60. at some point you do ask yourself how much longer you have left with your older family members around. life is unfortunately very short.

[grant] of course. that’s totally understandable. she's a great mother, and you wouldn't want to miss out on that. and i'm sure you don’t want your kids to not have their grandma present in their lives.

[henry] but then i have to start over with my job and maybe i lose contact with my friends if i leave. i do have friends here–sorry, they weren’t able to come hang out this time, maybe next time–but my real two best friends are in michigan. it’s you and ben. i don't let anyone else get that close to me except for soobin because to me, my best friend slots are full. i don't want anyone else. no one else is worth it.

[henry] and i always said you’d be my kids’ godfather. i don’t want them to miss out on knowing you the way they should.

[grant] there’s facetime! and i'd come visit. and i'm so goddamn annoying, i will be texting you about everything i think about in the world for the rest of our lives. you're not going to lose me.

[henry] i try my best to believe i won't lose you.

[grant] also, don’t stress out too much about this yet. you do not have to make any of these decisions now, and when you do need to, the right answers will come to you.

[grant] and listen, one last thing and then i'll shut up. i don’t know how, i don’t know why–i don’t think there is an answer to this–but the people we lose are still with us, even if only in spirit. i am famously a skeptic, but i felt something this year that changed my mind. i know you miss your dad but he’s still with you. somehow he’ll see your kids grow up, and he’ll be there guiding you to make the right decisions.

[grant] your dad loved you, like, beyond what words can express. he loved your mom just as much. he would never willingly leave you. if there's something after this mortal existence, he's still with you.

[grant] oh, and we should probably eat this pizza before it's frigid.

[henry] fuck, i forgot about it. thanks for reminding me. yeah, let's demolish this pizza, and then i'll take you to that cool arcade i told you about. we'll make up for the awful arcade experience at your cousin's bachelor party.

[askinkiskarma]

The Archer | Chapter VI: The Great War

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: Your secret meeting with your dad brings out the worst in you and your mate. The RDA go after one more tulkun in the beginning of the biggest fight of your lives - for your lives.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 9.7k words

Warnings/notes: lots of angst, mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, SPOILERS for ATWOW

A/N: I apologise in advance for the next few chapters, but I am feeling feelings and you have to feel them with me!! This chapter took a little longer than expected, but I am trying to not kill myself juggling everything I currently have going on. As always, thank you so so much for engaging with the story, and replying, liking, reblogging, following etc etc. (all the good things). Ily all and can't wait to share the rest w you soon xoxoxo

You drew up some good faith treaties, I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

You said I have to trust more freely, but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

And maybe it's the past that's talkin’, screamin' from the crypt

Telling me to punish you for things you never did, so I justified it

You were hyperventilating a little, entering the tent that you now called home and revelling in the silence, which you needed desperately to make sense of what just happened. They did it, they killed a tulkun. You’ve heard from the Metkayina that they were doing that, far away from the village, but now they did it here. You knew instantly it was a ploy to drive Jake out, drive you all out, and you wondered meekly if Jake would answer. Even if he didn’t, you didn’t think the Metkayina would just let this slide. Your dad, your dad left you a message. And you lied about it. Why would you do that? What in tarnation possessed you to do something so stupid? You lied to Jake, to Neytiri… to Neteyam. 

You were mad, mad at Jake that it had to come to this point. You told him, you fucking told him months ago. You should have never run, ever. You told him they would find you eventually, you told him innocent beings would get hurt as a result of hiding. Death would follow you wherever you went because the RDA wouldn’t just give up, and they had very little to lose. People were disposable to them. You, on the other hand, all had everything to lose. 

You were mad at your father, for yet another atrocious act. You were mad that he desecrated any good association you had with his memory once again and made you hate him, hate yourself for having any connection to this cruel, sick, twisted individual. You were mad at your mother, who chose him, who allowed him to be your father, who protected and defended his honour and memory your entire life and in death, and you wondered what spell he put on her that she was so so blind about this man. 

You should just tell them. Tell your family and take them with you and just kill him. Your heart sank as you considered that he might kill them on the spot if he notices anyone else with you. Maybe they could take the ilu? Maybe you and Jake would be enough to take him down. You didn’t like how much your brain was screaming in pain at the thought, at watching your father, that you’ve never even met before, lying dead on the ground, bleeding out in front of you. Why should you care? Why do you care? Why did you lie? It was painful, near damn unbearable having to admit to yourself that you wanted to see him, you wondered what he had to say for himself, this man that has been an almost mythical thing in your life, that gave you self-loathing issues you can’t outrun and haven’t outgrown, this man, this man, this man. 

Maybe it was a trap. Maybe he wanted to draw you out to kidnap you, to use you as leverage to draw Jake out. Maybe he knew from Spider how close you were to the Sullys, knew you were bound to the hip with Lo’ak, knew you were mated with Neteyam, and that you would perhaps bring them along and he can get a Sully kid to threaten and manipulate the former Olo’eyktan. It was a good plan, you thought, except you would go alone, and you were more than capable of killing anyone who tried to get in your way. Your dad would learn that soon enough, as you were determined to finish this, once and for all, and free yourself of this burden and this nightmare that has plagued you far longer than anything else has.

Neteyam came into the tent before anyone else did, looking at you curiously. 

“Are you alright? You seemed quite shaken after seeing the tulkun.”

Calm yourself. You couldn’t lie to Neteyam. It was one thing having kept that you were sick, it was one thing to lie by omission. You couldn’t lie to your mate, but you had to try. 

“Can you blame me?”

He sighed, then approached you, pulling your body into a warm hug. His hand went to the back of your head, softly stroking your hair with the pad of his thumb in a calming motion. The guilt was eating at you, deep and unpleasant at his trusting, loving nature. You sniffled into his chest, soft tears escaping you and landing on him. You were crying because you were scared, because you felt like you were betraying your family, the only family you’ve ever known for a man who could be killing you tomorrow, or using you to kill them. You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

“It’s alright, Atan. We will be alright. Dad will come up with a plan.”

You didn’t say anything, afraid that any words out of your mouth will be a dead giveaway and Neteyam will be able to see right through you, as he usually could. 

The evening was quiet and tense, as your family returned to the tent after helping Ronal and Tonowari. There will be a funeral for Ro’a, and traditional rituals will take most of the morning tomorrow as a final farewell to the tulkun and her calf. Luckily, Tuk slept in between Neyriti and Jake tonight, and with a big lump in your throat and a thumping heart, you went to sleep nestled in Neteyam’s embrace. 

You waited patiently for everyone to be fast asleep around you, room filled with deep, regular breaths. You knew as soon as Neteyam fell asleep, as he twitched when he did, then started snoring softly in your ear. They were all light sleepers, except for Tuk and Lo’ak, trained soldiers, ready at a moment’s notice for trouble, ready for battle. You had to be careful, you had to put all that Na’vi stealth training to good use. 

It took a while, but eventually you made it out, carrying a handgun that you managed to remove silently from the tent, without having alerted anyone, and pushed passed the village into the mangrove forest where Neyn was. When you were sure you were past the point anyone could have heard you, you let out your calling cry, and you watched as your beautiful banshee made her way to you, cooing gently at your sight.

“Did I wake you, sweet girl? I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

You got on her, making Tsaheylu, and felt concern in her as she took you away in the dead of night, and without your mate to accompany you. She was a little scared, as she was very rarely on her own, Seze always keeping her company on such late nocturnal rides. 

You rode for a while, loving the feeling of the warm air on your face, loving being back on your ikran, that you used to fly with every day in your old life and you sighed soundlessly, knowing an ilu will never compare to this feeling right here, to this beautiful creature you knew was your spirit sister. You thought about Neyn, and how you would feel if you lost her, if she was killed, and you felt her wobble a little mid air as the intense emotions on your mind engulfed you both. You tried to calm yourself for her, so she could keep a steady pace and a straight path. She was here, she was okay, there was nothing to worry about. 

As was made clear in the crude note, about 10 kilometres east of the village was a small island with nothing on it that you could reasonably see except a deserted beach and a couple mangroves. It was small enough to know it was empty and safe, big enough to shield you both from any suspecting eyes. 

A man was waiting for you. An Avatar, he was tall and muscular, dressed in the same camo outfit as that night months ago, the night you almost died at Alien hands, just like so many Na’vi did before you. He was beautiful, you thought. Even in this form, you could recognise the traits you got from him, and you knew then anyone would be able to tell you were related, no matter which body you inhabited. 

“So it’s true.” You heard yourself saying, trying to reconcile the thought that this man was indeed your father, brought back from the dead. 

“What exactly are you? Are you an Avatar? You’re not controlling a body with your mind through a neurolink, so I guess Avatar is a bad name for it. Abomination would be my preferred trademark name, if you’re taking suggestions for T-shirts or action figures.” 

He wasn’t speaking, just looking at you intently, and you swore you saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He came closer to you. Your hand picked up the gun you had tucked in your loincloth and pointed it straight at his face. 

Your thumb went to the hammer, that you pulled down. With the gun loaded and your index finger on the trigger, you saw the man flinch briefly, but he recovered immediately and continued to stare at you, at your face and features. 

“You have your mother’s eyes.” 

Your hand slightly trembled on the gun. 

“Stop. Whatever father daughter reunion you had in mind, you’re gonna be disappointed. I’m here to make you answer for your crimes.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you. Fuck, that’s where you got that from. 

“If you were here to make me answer for anything, you would’ve brought Jake Sully with you, or any of the kids you were with that night.” 

“You mean the night you almost killed me?” 

“Also you had no way of knowing this wasn’t a trap, but you came alone anyway. You put yourself in harm’s way to meet me here in secret. Just like I did.”

You don’t really have a comeback for that. So maybe he wasn’t some jarhead dropout after all. Didn’t matter. He’d be dead in a few minutes anyway. 

“I know you must have a million questions, just like I do. Can you please lower the gun so we can talk?” 

“I only have one question for you. How do you sleep at night?” Your eyes welled up, angry tears like needles, prodding, begging to be released. “You killed a Tulkun. Just like you killed so many Na’vi. How do you live with yourself?”

“I didn’t kill the Tulkun -“

“Do you think you’re gonna get away with this on a fucking technicality? Do you think that telling me it was all Quaritch is going to make this fucking better somehow?” 

He looked pained for a moment, gaze shifting from your face to the ground. He looked embarrassed. 

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” 

A silent sob escaped your lips. “Why? That was someone’s spirit sister. She was a beautiful creature, she didn’t deserve to die.” 

“Quaritch wants to bait you out in the open. He hoped that if he did that, you would attack.” 

You hissed loudly. “And what did you do? Watch?”

He recoiled a little at your words, embarrassment still ever present on his face. 

“Pretty much.” 

“That’s just as bad. Inaction is just as bad.”

“Inaction is necessary when you’re using them to find a daughter you have never met. I had to take that risk, I had to say nothing, and I don’t fucking regret it. You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Not for long. I have nothing to say to you.”

“You do. I know you do, because you’re here. Please, just give me a chance. I need a chance.”

He sounded desperate and your welled-up eyes stung now, trying so hard to keep the tears in, trying to be strong, trying to not humour him, to not show him that this was tearing you apart, tearing apart all of the stitches of your patched up pretty new blue heart.

“Please, put the gun down.” Your lips trembled and fingers twitched on the trigger, and with a loud curse, you lowered your arm. 

“You know, I could have killed you that night. I killed two of your little friends, had you in my shot. It would have been an easy kill.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Your eyes moved from him to somewhere behind him, thinking hard, trying to justify it to yourself as much as him. It took a few minutes of introspection to figure out you had nothing.

“I don’t know.”

He moved from where he was and sat down by the beach, in a tiny enclosure that was shielded from areal view by the trees, but still overlooked the beautiful sea, flowing back and forth with soothing waves. He looked up at you expectantly, and you moved to a rock a little further away from him, facing his body, prepared for any possibility. He sighed.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“So, how did this...” You pointed with your gun, that you unloaded for the moment, all over his blue body. “...come to be?”

“When I first came to Pandora, part of the contract stated that if I die, I give permission for them to put my consciousness in an Avatar body so they can revive me in case they need me again. They did the tests and took the chip that contains…well, me… right before the last battle.”

“Why would you agree to that?”

“I didn’t really have a choice. I needed the job, I would have signed anything, done anything they asked.”

“Why?”

He didn’t look at you as he spoke, but to the distant sea, fiddling with his fingers. 

“I had a daughter. Back on Earth. Her name was Sarah. She was everything to me, and she got sick. I worked for the Air Force at the time, but they let me go after I sustained an injury in the war they said deemed me unfit for service. The money I was getting on vet benefits was not enough, not enough to save her,  not enough to matter. Then I found a job offer for the RDA, a mission to a beautiful far away planet. The pay was phenomenal, and I knew I was good enough to be accepted. I had accolades up the wazoo, and was desperate - exactly what they needed. They gave me the first pay check before we took off, and I had to have faith that the money was going to be enough to save my baby girl. When I came out of cryo, six years later, I found out she had died.”

You saw light reflecting a tear dropping on his face, and your heart hurt painfully in your chest. You have wondered for years, your whole life, what could have possibly gotten this man to give up a life on Earth for such a despicable cause, and now that you knew, you didn’t know if it was relieving you of your guilt or not. On one hand it did, because it was as good of an excuse as it got, but on the other hand, it amplified it at the horrid ways you have thought about your dad all these years. You thought him a cold-hearted killer, a monster. Turns out, just like Jake, just like Neteyam, just like you, he was just willing to give up his own life, his peace of mind, for someone he loved. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He smiled a sorrowful smile at you. “It was a long time ago. But anyway, when I found out, I was in pieces. Whatever heart I had left, my little baby took with her. I was jaded and broken, and wanted nothing to do with this world. But these men and women, the soldiers I met, they became my family in time. They pulled me out of a very dark place, and in turn I gave them my undying loyalty and whatever little was left of my soul. I knew then I would protect them with my life, and with the life of the Na’vi, if needs be. It wasn’t right, but it is who I am. Who I’ve been since as long as I remember. A soldier, an army man. I fight for my country, I fight for the job and for the squad, and I don’t complain, and I don’t question it. It was a good way of living, easy to digest, it helped me sleep at night.”

“And then I met your mother.” His smile changed from one filled with sadness and pain to a happy one, a melancholic one, filled with love and wonder. “She was a shock to the system, to every system. She was kind, and loving, smart and curious, soft and patient, but also the most badass, brave, strong person I knew. It was such a complex mixture, I didn’t think anyone like that could exist. But she did. And, somehow, she saw me. She saw more in me than what I thought I was, she saw who I could be, who I think I wanted to be all my life without ever realising. I fell so deeply in love with her, I could feel my heart beating again. She was everything to me.”

The tears were falling freely down your face now, and you didn’t have it in you to stop it, didn’t have any power over your own mind, who had trouble understanding what it was going through, all the information it had to come to terms with in such a short span of time. 

“Spider said she died.” His voice broke as he said that, and you tried to compose yourself from becoming a sobbing mess.

“Yeah… she did. When I was ten. Cancer.” 

“Ovarian?”

Your eyes snapped to him, not being able to stop the shock on your face. 

“Her sister and grandmother died of ovarian cancer, too.”

You didn’t know that. She has never told you that. 

“Are you an Avatar? I didn’t think it was possible for them to make Avatars on Pandora.” 

“I’m not an Avatar, technically. I used to be, but I did the consciousness transfer, just like Jake did almost 20 years ago.”

“Why?”

You sighed loudly. You didn’t know whether you could trust him, whether he would use the information you gave him to betray and hurt you. But at the same time, you have waited for this chance your whole life. You have wanted to speak to the man in front of you, wanted to bond with your dad that you never even met, and so you had to try. 

“Multiple reasons. From an objective point of view, my human body wasn’t made to survive this world. I was stuck in a lab for 18 years, or stuck to an oxygen mask. It wasn’t ideal. From a subjective point of view, I fell in love. With this planet, with the Na’vi… with a boy. My mother and the scientists made me this Avatar so I can live my life the way it was meant to be lived: giving myself fully to it. So when I felt ready, I committed by becoming one of the people for life.”

“There has to be more to that story. I know we don’t have a lot of time, but please, just tell me everything you can.”

So you did. You spared little detail about your mostly miserable existence, hoping that it would make him feel like shit that he didn’t try harder to be part of your mother’s life, that he didn’t forsake his kinship bond with the murderous soldiers and ally himself with the Na’vi when he had the choice, perhaps ensuring his survival, and the presence of another parent in your life.

“Jake found me in the woods, and brought me to Norm and Max, but then my heart stopped for 30 minutes. In those 30 minutes, I saw her. I saw mum, and she told me the truth. That the cancer wasn’t what really killed her. What killed her was your death, that she was never able to get over. She was so depressed, so lost, she chose to die than become one of the people. I realised then I did the exact same thing throughout my whole life, and that I wanted more time, to heal, to love, to live. So Eywa gave me a second chance at life. And I took it. I cured the virus, I became Na’vi, and now I am here. That’s pretty much it.”

Gideon’s head was spinning with the influx of information that was being thrown at him. It was so hard, hearing everything, hearing everything he’s missed. It was hard to deal with knowing this girl sitting in front of him, beautiful and blue, a strong Na’vi warrior, was his, and that whoever she was, he had no part in it. His heart constricted hearing how much pain you have had to endure, how hard your life has been, and know he was directly responsible for at least some of it. His mind echoed with your words about his Jo, about how she died, about whyshe died. The hatred he felt for himself, for his actions and inactions quickly reached an all-time-high, and he almost prayed you’d change your mind and point that gun at him again and finish the job.He couldn’t speak, so he just stared into the abyss, hoping that words, any words would come to him, knowing they won’t, knowing no words would be enough, no words would ever erase or change the damage he had done, the anguish you’ve had to endure.

“This... Neteyam. Is he a good kid?” 

He saw you smile softly, almost bashful at the mention of this boy who was in a lot of your stories, who seemed to shine a light on your otherwise dark life.

“He’s the best. We’ve been through… a lot. And it’s not always been easy, in fact, for like a year and a half he was a lot of the reasons I hated this life, I wanted it to end. But whatever’s ever happened between us, our differences, our fights, it’s never been out of lack of love. On the contrary. I think both of us love each other a little too much for either of our sakes.” 

“Does he treat you well? Do they all… the Sullys, the village, do they treat you well?” 

You smiled again, at him this time, and Gideon swore his whole body stopped - your smile, your eyes, the glimmer in it… Jo. His Jo was still here. His Jo lived so well within you, every ounce of you a walking reminder of the woman he loved more than life itself. Soft, and brave, and strong, and smart and curious… like Jo. 

“They treat me well. They always have. I was the one who pushed them away for years, but their love and desire for me to be in their lives never wavered, and I could not be more grateful. They gave me a family, and a place of belonging. They gave me a squad, and I would do anything for them.” Your expression shifted suddenly, to a hard one, one directed at him. “Anything.” 

“Why are you here? Are you here to sell me out? Are there people spying on us, tracing back where I came from so they can find Jake? Are you here to kidnap me? You either set me up, or you took a big risk leaving that message for me, hoping no one would see it, hoping no one could read it. Which one is it?”

He hated how the first thing you thought of and associated him with is vile and cruel, and underhanded, but he couldn’t blame you. He didn’t have the best track record, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here right now.

“If I wanted you kidnapped, or found, you would have been kidnapped, or found. Do you think I don’t know you and the Sullys are in Awa’atlu?”

You mouth fell agape, eyes wide and ears pushed back at the new piece of information. He saw your tail stop moving, a sign of alertness and fear, and watched as you cocked the gun and pointed it at his face again.

“Who else knows about this? When did you find out?” 

“No one else knows.”

“Then how would you know? How did you figure it out?” 

“I still have a few aces up my sleeve, kid. Your finger’s not on the trigger, so I don’t think you’re planning on shooting me yet. Can you please lower the gun?” 

“What exactly prompted this little change of heart, if this is even what this is?” 

Gideon pulled out the rock that he found in his makeshift grave and watched as your expression deepened from surprise and fear to shock, amazement. 

“This did. I found a little spot in the forest, where it turns out I died. I found the recording, I saw Weinfleet, that son of a bitch, kill me. Although I guess that’s fair considering I did the same to him. I found my body, that you buried. And this rock.”

Gideon looked at you, at this girl who was undoubtedly his, undoubtedly Jo’s, with awe displayed all across his features. He couldn’t believe you came from him. He wishes he could have seen you as a little girl, as a human, he is so sad he didn’t get to see you take your first steps, or say your first word, or shoot your first gun. He wishes more than anything he could have taught you. He loves you, he realises. He loves you, despite so little time, because you’re his, you’re Jo’s, the best of both of them.

The man saw you thinking intently, tugging at the inside of your lip so hard he was scared it was going to bleed. He didn’t know what to expect from you. It was easy enough to read you as your face mirrored your feelings as if he had a direct link to your thoughts through it, but somehow you were still an enigma to him. He’s never seen Sarah grow up, he’s never had to be a dad to a young woman, a fierce warrior, a scientist who thinks about everything, calculates three moves ahead. He wondered sadly if there is anything left for him to teach you - you seemed as self-sufficient as they come, and a twinge of jealousy for the Toruk Makto blossomed in him, for getting to raise you, for getting to see you grow up, for helping make you who you were right now.

“So what now? I mean it’s a long shot, but maybe I can convince Jake to let you come to Awa’atlu, we can go and ask the Olo’eyktan, we can say you had nothing to do with it, it will be hard, but maybe if I -“ 

“I’m not coming with.”

“What?” There was no more confusion or focus on your face, just anger, pure unadulterated rage. 

“I have to see this through. I have a better chance of protecting you if-“

“Oh, fucking stop. You’re really going to play the martyr act til the end, aren’t you?”

“I can protect you from them, I can find out wh-“

“YOU CAN'T FUCKING PROTECT ME. I DON’T NEED YOUR PROTECTION, I DON’T WANT YOUR PROTECTION.” 

“I need you to prove to me you’re better than I think you are. I need you to show me, that despite all the fucking horrendous things you have done, my mother wasn’t a fool to trust you. To love you.” 

“Don’t talk about your mother like that, girl.” Gideon was panting now, angry with you, with how quickly you were dismissing a perfectly rational plan for your emotions, for the desire to not part with a grudge you’ve held on to for 19 years. He understood it, but there was a line, and Jo was that line for him, always. 

“You go back, everything you have said to me, everything is moot. Because you have a chance to be better, to do better, you have a chance to fight on the right side once in your life, and you’re not going to take it?” 

“I’m not going to repeat myself. I have a better chance of protecting you, protecting the people you love… your family, from there. I can figure out what their plan is and I can warn you.” He pulled out a radio and receiver from one of his pockets. “Take it. It’s set on a different frequency than what they use, or you and the Sullys use. It can be for us. Wear it, I will contact you if anything happens, and you will know and you will be safe.”

You hissed loudly at your dad, tears pricking painfully at your eyes. 

“Are you really going to pass on an opportunity to protect your family, your mate, because of your ego? I know you want everything done your way and you think you are always right, and you know what? You probably are. But this is more important than this. Just take this.” He took your hand in his and opened your palm and placed the radio and receiver in it. He closed your fingers in a fist, and let you go. “I will be in your ear, I will be there to tell you if anything’s wrong. I will do my best to fight this fight the way I think is best, the way my gut is telling me to. And when this is over, I will come. And by then, I hope I will have proven myself at least enough to be worthy of a second chance. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me. And when this is over, maybe you’ll want to. But for now, I have to go. And so do you.” He looked up and you saw that eclipse will be over any minute. Shit. Time got away from you. Neteyam would have woken up by now. Fuck.

You saw him turn around and call for his ikran. You were shocked he had passed the Iknimaya, and you made a mental note to ask him about it when you saw him next. Just for research purposes, you weren’t curious for any other reason. His ikran was beautiful, dark blue with hints of gold and pink all over, almost like the opposite of yours, the yin to your yang. You called Neyn and she came quickly, batting her wings at you playfully. She made a new friend, it seems. You sighed as you got on her and made the bond. 

“Is Spider alright?” 

“He’s fine, he’s integrated at well as could be expected. I think him and Quaritch are bonding.” You didn’t like the sounds of that, but you said no more on the subject. You were late enough as it is.

“Prove me wrong. Please.” 

“I will, kid.” 

You both took off at the same time, in the opposite directions, and you turned around and watched him with tears swiftly running down your cheeks, blown away by the warm air hitting you in the face. Dad… 

As you made your way back, your mind was running a thousand miles a minute with so many thoughts that were fighting for dominance. The top contender was concern and mind-paralysing fear at the thought of seeing Neteyam and knowing he will know, know you were gone, know you couldn’t lie, you couldn’t even try because he would know that too, and the fight that would ensue as a result. When did things get so complicated? 

You were relieved to not see any lapis blue Na’vi anywhere in sight when you dismounted your ikran, and you quickly started making your way to the village when a voice, the voice, stopped you in your tracks, like shackles to your feet. 

“You know, when we saw that sign on the tulkun yesterday, I felt your heartbeat in your wrist increase to three times its normal speed. I could feel your panted breaths in the back of my neck. I knew something was wrong. You may be able to lie to my dad, to anyone else, but you can’t lie to me, Atan.” 

Your breathing was laboured and shallow, and you felt scared to turn around, to face him. He came so close to you, his breath was making the hairs on your back stand up like needles, hurting you from the forcefulness of his presence, from the anger that was so palpable it was pulsating all around you. 

“What did you do?” 

“Neteyam…” you turned around, and you regretted looking at him. Because this wasn’t your mate, not anymore. This was the perfect soldier, the Olo’eyktan in the making, the Na’vi warrior, and he was looking at you like you were a stranger to him, like you were the enemy.

“What did you do. I need to hear you say it.” His voice was calm, too calm and it reminded you of the knife he always kept on his waist, sharp and deadly.

“Neteyam…” 

“How long has this been going on?” 

“How long has what been going for?” 

“This, you mingling with the fucking enemy, you lying to my family, to your family.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, as you took in the accusations your mate was carelessly throwing at you, like pebbles on the surface of the sea. 

“I know you are upset, and I am sorry I lied, but please don’t jump to conclusions.” 

“The message on the tulkun was from my dad. It was the first time I have made contact with him. I haven’t been mingling with any enemies. I just wanted to see what he wanted. I have a gun, I was prepared to kill him.”

“Your dad is a fucking murderer, he could have killed you, he could have kidnapped you. It could be a trap. We could be fucking swarmed by the RDA in the next 20 minutes and it would all be your fault.”

You couldn’t believe him, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. Neteyam was many things, but he wasn’t cruel and he definitely wasn’t so quick to blame, to draw unwarranted conclusions. You have known he has been acting a little strange for a while, and you knew there were things eating at him that he is yet to share, but you hated how instead of communicating them, he was lashing out like a wounded animal. You felt anger bubbling in your stomach and you tried really hard to keep it at bay, knowing that both of you attacking each other will not be productive whatsoever. 

 “Neteyam, stop. You’re being unfair. I know you are mad at me, and I know you have been upset about things you have refused to talk to me about for a while, but I will not stand and watch you attack me.” 

“You are right, it was risky, and I am sorry. But I’m not fucking stupid. I was careful, I made sure nobody followed me as much as I possibly could. I didn’t tell you because I was scared if you came, and it was a trap, you were a much bigger prize than I was.” 

“Oh, that is such fucking bullshit. If you told me and I came, you had double the chance to defeat whoever was waiting for you, whoever left you the message. But you didn’t want that, did you? You seem to like saying one thing when you mean another, don’t you?” 

“Ok, what the fuck has gotten into you? This is so not about me leaving.”

“No, it IS about you leaving. It’s about you lying. It’s about how every time I think we’re in one fucking place, it turns out we’re about five steps behind.” 

Neteyam watched as you stretched on the grass of your clearing, taking deep breaths in with your eyes closed, peacefully enjoying the outside, which you never really saw anymore. It will be your 17th birthday in a couple months, and Neteyam was wondering sorrowfully if he will get to be there for it. It’s been eating at him, the realisation he needed to leave, leave your life forever, but he was painfully grasping at every chance to see you, still be with you. He couldn’t imagine a life without you, and soon, he’ll have to live through it. 

Recently, your relationship changed. You have always been close, so close the whole world around you felt like just a playpen for your souls alone, but recently, things… evolved. Everything about it felt heightened, like it reached new zeniths Neteyam never thought anyone would be able to feel without collapsing from the intensity it pulsated through his veins. He’s always loved you, Neteyam mused. His whole life, there was not a moment he has not loved you. 

But as he watched you on the grass, soft shiny skin, so unlike his own, your tiny figure and those eyes that, despite being closed, Neteyam knew every inflection of by heart, he knew he felt more, that he fell in love with you - deeply and irrevocably. It wasn’t a recent development, either, it has been going on for a while, but in light of everything he knew he had to do, Neteyam knew it would hurt even more to vocalise these thoughts or even acknowledge them for himself. Only hurt could come of whatever it was you two had, and there would be no cure for the calamitous heartbreak he would have to go through when he did decide to leave for good, so the less he thought about you two together, your body on him, his lips on yours, spoken confessions and wondrous nights - the better.

“Hey, do you ever think about kids?”

“Kids?”

“Yeah, about having kids. About the future, about little Neteyams running around the village, one day bound to inherit your titles, and your beautiful soul and your endless good looks. ”

He blushed at your comment. He has, Neteyam thought. Multiple times. He thought about a family, about them running through this clearing, about their mother singing to them with that incandescent voice and worn-down guitar, and then he had to stop thinking about it, because it hurt, it took him out, the pain of knowing it was never going to be possible. It nauseated him, the idea of another woman, a woman he’d have to love and give himself to, a woman that wouldn’t be you, and his children that wouldn’t have your eyes, or your hair, or your propensity for being a lovable know-it-all. 

“Not really. It’s still a lifetime away. I’m just trying to enjoy each day as it comes along.”

Neteyam watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and eyed him inquisitively. You were so tiny, you had to stretch your neck to look at his face. 

“Liar. You’re not a carpe diem kind of guy. You think about everything. You told me you had your whole future planned out when we were like seven.” You got up and walked to where he was sitting on the ground, back against the bark of a tree. When you were on your feet, your face was at the same levels as his, so you got really close to him, so close he could feel your breath on his face, and tried to ignore the thumping heartbeat and shivers going down his spine at your proximity. It’s gotten easier in time, being this close to you, as you have always been a touchy person, so he had no way of avoiding it - not that he would want to avoid it. 

“So why are you lying to me, Ne-te-yam?” 

Neteyam gulped, and he wondered if you knew - what this was doing to him, what you were doing to him. Wondered if you felt the same way, if you also felt dizzy when he was this close, if you also felt your knees weaken in his presence. 

“I’m not lying… I used to have everything planned out, but not anymore. It’s a little more complicated, this whole life thing, than I thought it was going to be when we were young.” 

Your gaze shifted from him to somewhere behind him, and you looked sad and deep in thought, subtle pain obvious in the way your eyes glistened with new-found tears.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you ever think about kids?” Your eyes found his again, and you looked hurt by his comment, and the unshed tears found their way down you cheek, that you wiped immediately. You turned around and started walking towards the river, and you kneeled next to it, looking at the way the water flowed, peaceful and determined. 

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny… you asked me, so I assumed it’s because you were thinking about it.”

“You know I can’t think about kids, Neteyam. I can’t have kids, unless I have them with Spider.” You rolled your eyes and laughed a joyless laugh and he felt anger envelop him just at the mere thought. Agonising images were flashing through his mind, of you two, a much better fit for each other, compatible in biology and bodies and he felt suddenly sick and regretful of ever asking. 

He faintly saw you look back at him, and you clarified - you knew, knew he needed it. “I’m never having children with Spider, Neteyam. I was just saying, unlike you, the prospect is never in the cards for me. You will go off, find yourself a suitable mate, beautiful and smart and kind and fit to be a Tsahik, you will have a life and a family. I won’t. I will never have a tiny me running around, I’ll never have my parents’ genes, and everything I’ve learnt, and everything I am live on.”

You sighed, and the tears were falling swiftly in the palms resting upwards in your lap.

“Would you? If you could? Have kids… with someone else?” 

You smiled a small sorrowful smile, and looked up at the sky, almost as if you were praying to whoever could hear you.

“If I could… yes. With… someone else.” 

“Just fucking admit you don’t want to have my kids. You don’t want a family.” 

And the hits keep coming. So that’s what this is about. The guilt you felt about lying to him and sneaking out was quickly dissipating and being replaced with rage, burning heavily and brightly, wanting to leave nothing but destruction in its wake. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Why? Why are so desperate for those pills, why do you hate the thought of having a baby with me so much? Do you have any fucking clue how that makes me feel?”

“NO, Neteyam! No, I have no fucking clue, because you won’t fucking talk to me. You have some nerve to hold these feelings inside after months of me asking you what is wrong, of KNOWING you are not ok, you LYING about it and then exploding in my face and demanding an explanation in this way.” 

“You know what? You are right. I don’t want a baby with you.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you knew it was too late. You knew you made a mistake. Because while the words were true, they were also not the whole truth. And as you watched your mate’s heart shatter in front of you, yours did too. It was too late to stop, though, as the rage was eating at your insides, begging to be released. 

“Why in God’s name would I want a child with a man who continuously puts himself at risk and will most likely get themselves fucking killed in the nearby future?! I grew up without a parent, Neteyam. I grew up without a dad. And I grew up with a mother who was heartbroken because of the lack of dad, and killed herself when I was fucking 10 years old. Do you have any idea what that does to someone? Do you have any idea the hell I have lived through my whole life? The holes in my chest nobody was able to fix, not even you, they’re still there. They’re patched up nice and neat, as well as anybody could hope for, but they’re still there. They will always be there.  I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, much less on my child. So no, I do not want a baby that will grow up an orphan, that’s why I am so fucking desperate for those pills. And if you bothered to ever share with me, share what’s been bothering you, you’d know this.” 

Neteyam looked broken, eyes on you but not really, unfocused and distant, and you tried to calm down, tried to make words come out that could fix your previous ones. Your eyes were frozen on his, frozen on the tears forming in them, watching as they fell down his cheek and onto his bare chest. Eventually, it’s like he snapped back to life, and he started moving, not sparing you a second look. As he passed you by, you grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him. He removed his arm from your grasp like it burned him, like being touched by you was poisonous, and you winced at it, knowing deep down you deserved it. 

“Neteyam… I have dreamt about having a family with you for so long I can’t even remember when it started. I dreamt about our children, careless and free, happy and loud, running around the village, swimming in our clearing. I dreamt about teaching them guitar, and watching you teach them how to hunt or shoot a bow. I dreamt about them growing up and feeling sad about how quickly time is passing but being grateful for being able to watch it go by. I dreamt about their Iknimaya, and flying together for the first time. I dreamt so many things, for a long time my dreams were the only things keeping me going. Even when you were gone, the dreams, they never left. I had to live with knowing they would never come true for so long before I got the Avatar. I had to live with knowing I’d have to watch you have someone else’s babies, and it killed me. It killed me.” You were crying now, your chest convulsing in pain at the memories, at the present, at seeing Neteyam’s back tense and rigid, of not being able to look into his eyes. “When I got my Avatar, and we started being close again… when you kissed me for the first time, when you held me in your arms before my Iknimaya, I had flashes, flashes of hope, that despite my sickness, maybe those dreams weren’t impossible anymore. They were quickly shattered, of course, but they were there. Then after my consciousness transfer, the humans came back, and I was scared. I was scared of having a family during an active war. I thought we both agreed on that. Then watching you continuously put yourself at risk for Lo’ak, watching as you almost died in that train battle, it snapped something in me. My entire life, all the hurt and the pain of being orphaned came back full blast. Neteyam, if you die, I will too. And I don’t want to put an innocent being, our innocent being through that.” 

“Please, try to understand.”

You watched as Neteyam left you without another word and you were unsure if you would ever be able to fix this and you couldn’t help clutch your chest to try to alleviate the pain that was so strong it was radiating all throughout your body, just like one sentence, over and over. Did I lose him? Did I lose him? Did I lose him?

Neteyam walked towards a village like a ghost, like zombie, like a body without a soul, or a mind, just robotically taking step after step, trying to figure out if he could wake up, if this was a nightmare, if it was some sick joke. 

I don’t want a baby with you. I don’t want a baby with you. I don’t want a baby with you. 

Crack after crack, the pieces of his heart shattered like a broken jigsaw, like the one he did with you and Kiri when you were children, huddled together in the recreation hub. So he was right. He was right, his insecurities, however ridiculous they seemed sometimes, they were not without merit. You didn’t want his children. Not children, just his children. Because of who he is, because of his life choices and his desire to protect his family, his brother, you didn’t want him. Neteyam heard you justify it, and maybe somewhere deep, deep inside of him, he knew you had a point, that your own unique circumstances entitled you to this view, that you weren’t being unreasonable, but the hurt, the pain, the anguish and betrayal, they ran deeper. What was he supposed to do now? How would you ever be able to resolve this?

He noticed absentmindedly that there was commotion in the village, screams and wails coming from the Olo’eyktan’s tent. He felt himself walking towards it, with no real input from his mind, which was numb and in its own isolated, desolate little world. 

He heard Tonowari’s imposing voice, screaming over the booming voices of the villagers. As he approached, he saw his family, his father in the middle of the crowd, desperation all over his features. 

“This war has come to us! We knew about the hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon, far away! Now, it is HERE!” Neteyam saw the Metkayina poke their tongues out in a war cry, and he knew what he feared, what his family feared, is finally here. There was no avoiding it, the war with the Sky People, no avoiding the deaths that followed. Fear enveloped him, momentarily replacing the anguish you put in him, and he wondered where you were, if you had run away, as you used to like doing when you were young. Were you in danger? 

“Look, you have got to understand how the Sky People think.” His dad was trying to force his voice through the ululation, trying to get them to see reason. “They don’t care about the great balance.”

“WE DON’T ANSWER TO SKY PEOPLE.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his voice from speaking. “Listen. Listen to him.”

“They are not going to stop, this is only the beginning. You have to… tell your tulkun to leave. You gotta tell them to go far away!” 

“Leave?!” The Tsahik look disgusted with his dad, and he knew the Metkayina would never understand. None of them will, because they have never lived through what the Omatikaya had. They had no idea the depth of the cruelty, and lack of morals that plagued the aliens. They had no idea the loss his village suffered at their hands, and the sacrifices his family had to make. 

“You live among us and you learn nothing!”

“WE WILL FIGHT TO PROTECT OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS!”

“No no no no! IF YOU ATTACK, IF YOU FIGHT, THEN THEY WILL DESTROY YOU!” Pointing at Ronal’s pregnant belly, his father continued. “They will destroy everything that you love!”

“Hear my words!”

Like an out-of-body experience, Neteyam heard himself speak yet again. “Listen to my father. He speaks the truth.” 

The Toruk Makto picked the red impaling rod they found on the tulkun yesterday, got up to where the Olo’eyktan was so he was towering above everyone else, and pointed it for everyone to see. 

There was quiet all around him now, the villagers watching his dad carefully, with focused eyes. 

“You tell the tulkun that if they’re hit by one of these, they’re marked for death. And call for me, I’ll silence it. Saving their lives. That’s all that matters, right? Saving your family.”

“Tell the tulkun.” 

“Go, go!” 

Ululating can be heard all around as the Metkayina hurried and dove in the water, rushing to warn their brothers and sisters. Neteyam’s gaze shifted instantly to Lo’ak. He wouldn’t…

He would, it turns out, as Neteyam saw his baby brother hurrying out of the tent. He followed in his footsteps, knowing very well what Lo’ak was intending, knowing he had to stop him, no matter what. 

Neteyam watched as the younger Sully was sneakily placing a saddle on his ilu. 

“No way you’re running out today, baby brother.”

“I have to warn Payakan about the pingers.”

Neteyam was in no mood for this.

“No. You have got to keep your skxawng ass here.”

“He is outcast. There’s nobody to warn him but me.” Neteyam saw Lo’ak getting aggravated, the way he always got - his brother had no control over his emotions, never had, always ready and more than willing to explode at the slightest perceived slight. 

“Why do you always have to make things so hard, Lo’ak?”

“No, you mean why can’t I be the perfect son like you?” Neteyam’s heart took yet another beating, and he was unsure how much longer it could continue going in light of today, in light of everything it has had to suffer. First you, now Lo’ak, it seems everyone he loved was taking turns kicking him until the breath was knocked out of his lungs, until he would be unable to stand back up. 

“The perfect little soldier. Well, I’m not you!” 

The anger overtook Neteyam, who made his way so close to Lo’ak he was towering over him, a dark expression marring his features. 

“I’m not you. He’s my brother. I’m going.”

Crack. Crack. Crack.

“He’s your brother?” He pulled Lo’ak by the arm as he was turning away, speaking through clenched teeth. “No, I’m your brother!”

The conversation was interrupted by Tsireya and Ao’nung, both of whom jumped from their ilu and onto the platform they were on. 

“Lo’ak!” 

His brother took the opportunity that presented itself when Neteyam’s attention shifted onto the two siblings to escape his tight grip and jump into the water, immediately leaving towards Three Brothers Rock, where Payakan was. 

Neteyam didn’t think of anything else besides saving Lo’ak in that moment, and, as he called for his own ilu, he finally knew in his heart that you were right. 

You were flying, faster than you should be, considering the rain pouring all around you and the fact you could barely see a few meters in front of you, but you couldn’t stop. Because if you stopped, you’d have to think, you’d have to deal with the consequences of your actions, and that would be too much, too painful. Neyn was worried, as she could also not see, but she trusted you to guide her, she trusted you to keep her alive - her worry extended to you as well, to the horrid mood that seem to plague you, for the deep anguish in your soul that was making her cry loudly. You tried to calm her down, petting her gently. 

“Tam tam…” 

You have been going for a while now, longer than you knew you should have. You had little idea where you were, and where you were going. You didn’t even know if you could go back. Would you be able to face Neteyam again? Would you share a tent, would you ever be able to fix this?

You were so harsh, harsher than you needed to be. You hated his predisposition for following in his brother’s dangerous steps, but you promised him you’d be there to fix it. You told him you didn’t want to change him, that you would be there to patch him up. You told him you’d protect him. And instead of doing that, you struck him where it hurt most. You both had a habit of hurting each other, both had a habit of shooting to kill when in pain. So much has changed in between you, so much has changed in your worlds except the one thing that should have, that one thing that needed to. 

“Kid, are you there?” 

The voice pulled you out of your pondering, a voice you now recognised as your dad’s. 

“I’m here. Over.” 

“I don’t have a lot of time. The ship is hunting another tulkun. A solitary one.”

Oh, no… It can’t be.

“We’re about two klicks out. Kid… the Sully kids are there too.”

You felt all air being pushed from your lungs, unable to breathe in, feeling yourself becoming faint at the lack of oxygen and maddening heartbeat deafening you. 

“I will try to stop them. I don’t know if I can do this on my own.” 

Breathe. Try to breathe. 

“Hold your position. I’m coming. Get me a gun. Over and out.” 

Kiri. Tuk. Lo’ak…. Neteyam. Adrenaline coursed through your veins like icy water, waking you up, focusing your mind. You had no time to go back. You willed Neyn towards where you thought Three Brothers Rock was, and prepared yourself to fight for your life, for your family’s life, for your dad’s life. 

Your mind flashed to your fight with Neteyam, knowing you had to do everything in your power to make it right, not knowing that fight was the last conversation you will ever have with him before both of your lives are changed - forever. 

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja

[hellshire-harlot]

Categorically, I’m one of the lucky ones. Both my parents are employed, and I have an employment opportunity coming up quite soon. We own our house, I’ve never had to go hungry, and we always have heat, electricity, and Wi-Fi.

and yet. AND YET.

We are barely above the poverty line. Some years I had to go without school lunches because we couldn’t afford the fees. We save money wherever and whenever we can. Going out to eat at a burger joint is a special treat for special occasions because we can’t afford it often. Some of my favorite foods and snacks- pomegranates, veggie straws, chips, hell, even lemonade -are luxuries because we just don’t have the money to spare for it. The attitude has rubbed off on me so much that I go out of my way to avoid spending money and I feel guilty when others spend money on me, even for things like gifts or fucking therapy.

If any of our phones were to break, it would probably ruin us. If any of our cars broke down it would be even worse. One of the reasons I got into achievement hunting and building and exploring in video games is because buying new games is almost always a luxury we can’t afford. I use achievement hunting and making complex builds and finding all the Easter eggs as a way to squeeze out every last bit of enjoyment I can from a game so I can last until we can afford to get new ones. All of our clothes are thrifted or second hand. Same for most of our furniture. We stay in our house all day not only because we don’t like going out often and there isn’t a lot to do, but because WE CANT AFFORD TO DO FUN THINGS MORE THAN A FEW TIMES A YEAR.

I worry constantly about how my basic needs affect my family’s wealth. And we’re the lucky ones, because I’ve never had to worry about being homeless. I don’t consider myself very lucky, actually. My family worries constantly about money. They hate their jobs. They can’t afford to get new jobs because going without a paycheck is too risky. And how would they get new jobs? Neither of them went to college, and we don’t have the money for any of us to go. I’m basically unemployable in my current mental state, and that’s not liable to change. We’re lucky. Most of my friends have it way worse than I do. And yet I don’t feel very fucking lucky.

Everyone talks about poverty in the context of not being able to eat or receive reliable healthcare. Obviously those are huge fucking issues that need to be immediately addressed, and I don’t mean to minimize them. But I hardly see anyone talking about the kind of poverty that gives you just enough to get by a little comfortably- but no more than that. You have the money for your home, your food, your car. But you don’t have money for games. You don’t have money to go out and eat something nice. You don’t have money to buy toys for your kids. You don’t have money to see a movie, or buy that new phone that would be such an improvement over the secondhand one you have now. You don’t have money for anything that would put you at ease. And yet, you’re made to feel lucky, that you should be grateful. You’re not poor, poor people can’t put food on the table. Stop complaining. Be grateful. You could have it so much worse.

No one even addresses that yes it could be worse. But it sure as hell could be a lot fucking better, too. And that kills me.

[hellyeahsickaf]

If you want to get mad about how fucking awful some doctors are, here you go

With my post about medical discrimination against addicts and disabled people gaining traction again I got a few people asking about how I'm doing after my kidney infection and what happened in the ER. I'm better, could've been much worse but when I was seen they gave me antibiotics before anything else- it was the one thing they did right

I knew I had a kidney infection, I told them that I had a UTI and checked off all of the boxes for a kidney infection which is potentially deadly and leads to sepsis in as little as 12-48 hours if untreated. Pro tip because I'm an idiot- always see a doctor for UTIs, you can't just self treat them even if it seems to be going away as was the case for me. That's how it reaches your kidneys. Whoops 🥴

I waited a few hours which is expected but I got progressively worse. I also reported my pain as an 8/10 (9 by the time I was seen), migraine, fever, chills, weakness, dizziness, fatigue, nausea, probably some other things. I was shaking, crying, curled up, truly some of the worst pain I've ever felt next to gallstones. Maybe others handle this kind of thing better. Or maybe most grown ass men they see in this condition either have serious injuries or are addicts putting on a show. In which case they'd still be truly suffering. It shouldn't matter if they're an addict if they're in the ER desperate for relief in that moment. But yeah, I was ignored for most of the night aside from being given antibiotics and Tylenol. I just reread my clinical notes from that night actually and got mad again lol

I saw the doctor for under 5 minutes that night. He asked why I was there and how I was doing. I told him how awful I felt and he didn't carry out any examinations, it was the first time I'd gone to the ER and wasn't even asked to wear a gown. Either way he was extremely neglectful. Had the nerve to report exams for ENT, eyes, cardio, abdominal, skin, etc that never happened. He didn't lay a finger on me. Reported answers to questions I was never asked like whether I've had past surgeries (he put no when I have). And at the end of his clinical notes he states the following:

"..While I considered a CT abdomen/pelvis, I do not currently feel it is necessary based on the patient's physical exam and clinical history and review of any labs that were ordered. Patient is otherwise well appearing; feel it is reasonable to discharge the patient home at this time with close outpatient follow up."

So he claims he considered a CT scan but based on the results of exams he never performed and clinical history he never asked for and the fact that I was "well appearing" (felt like I was dying), he felt it was "not necessary" to order a CT scan. Only at the end of my visit- 6 hours later was I given an effective painkiller. This negligence genuinely could have killed me and I didn't want it to happen to someone else so I reported him for malpractice. They carried out an investigation and concluded there was no wrongdoing on his part. The woman that was in charge of being in contact with me during the investigation was really nice and also pissed off on my behalf and rightfully so. Also some days after my visit I got a lab report indicating that the strain of infection I had was fairly uncommon and pretty fuckin dangerous with some strains being immune to antibiotics

Maybe I should have advocated for myself better but the condition I was in, I could hardly talk at all. I just hate that he just gets to keep practicing medicine and jeopardizing the health of his patients to make his job easier despite the fact that it could kill someone. It's fucked up how easy it is for doctors to get away with this shit really.

[br1ghtestlight]

they're wearing their raincoats so for me this is already a 10/10 episode. love when they wear their raincoats!!

not big bob and tina going on the toddler rides at amusement parks together. LESS THRILL MORE CHILL. truly two autistic peas in a pod <3

big bob is seventy five (at least according to louise) this is important lore. also this means bob's dad is the same age as his gayass old man landlord who flirts with him every other day FJDMDJDKSMS according to my caculations big bob would've been 29ish when he had bob which means he met lily when they were in their early twenties. that also means (assuming that lily was the same age as big bob) lily would have been around 43 when she died although the math doesn't add up 100% if you consider her being born in 1941 because it would mean this episode takes place in 2016 which it doesn't. am i overthinking this one-off line where louise guestimates big bob's age??? yes i am thank you VERY MUCH.

LMAOO NOT THE BIG BOB REPUBLICAN DOOMER ARC OH NOOO

big bob making conversation while spending the day with his very young grandchildren: so have you considered that the world is terrible and people are awful and we should all kill ourselves? thoughts?

(im sure that isn't what bob meant its just funny to imagine big bob depression posting circa 2013 tumblr @ his grandkids all day)

ALSO this implies bob has been talking to big bob more regularly lately which is great. they're working on their relationship. a little bit :)

BIG BOB FOR REAL BEING A QANON TRUTHER EXCUSE ME???? THE FUCK. ohh he's literally a doomer he's watching videos about the upcoming apocolypse and how to ration food. HE'S A CLIMATE CHANGR DOOMER ITS SO OVERR im sorry thats so funny im obsessed w/ him

also our first time ever seeing (what im assuming is) bob's childhood home!! very cute. and he made them cookies

BIG BOB COMING TO VISIT BOB AT HIS RESTAURANT???? HUGE WIN???

why is big bob calling bob randomly to talk about how the world is ending and tigers are going extinct what is GOING on. at least he believes in climate change??

"like he's getting ready to..... leave the party. so he doesn't feel bad about telling everyone how much the party stinks" DONT TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT if there's an episode where big bob dies its over for me. like its done <- there won't be but i would be very very sad IF THERE WAS. to be fair we gotta kill off linda's parents too though

aww they're texting regularly <3 i like how you can ALREADY see how much bob and big bob's relationship has improved since the start of the show where bob Literally thought his dad hated him and that he was a disappointment. see what actual open communication can do for you!! im happy bob has at least one parent he can talk to kinda sorta? HE SHARES HELPFUL TIPS SO THAT BOB CAN SAVE HIS FAMILIES LIFE HES TRYING TO HELPP :(

"and today its just gonna be him. and them. and the giant cloud of darkness that follows him wherever he goes" funnily enough thats also what people say when talking about me :3

GRANDPA HUG!!!!!!!

"pop pop how much cotton candy is TOO MUCH cotton candy" "i dont know. three??"

LMAO FOR SOME REASON THAT REMINDS ME OF THIS FUCKIGN QUOTE. big bob when gene comes out to him as genderfluid like

wharf day with pop-pop!!! wharf day with pop-pop!!!!!

grandpa needs a little bench time. im ALWAYS saying this tbh

"don't get any tattoos that your parents can see" FUN GRANDPA he's definitely a better grandpa than he is a dad bcuz he was not doing this shit w/ bob when he was young i can tell you that much

OMG I LOVE TEDDYS RAINJACKET?? sorry i live in a rainforest its my god given right to comment on people's rainy day fashion. its like my one job

"i need to ask you guys A HUGE favor. can you try to take a good picture of me" teddy u are literally always hot this shouldn't be a problem. you're DRIPPING sex appeal. except this is for a handyman website so maybe less sexy?ANY PICTURE I TRY TO TAKE OF MYSELF I LOOK LIKE A MURDERER FJFMDNFJDKDNDJXHXH

louise shows up whenever she goes and figured out the best way to Cause Problems and i respect that about her. that takes real talent and dedication

one thing about the belcher kids they WILL end up locked inside a fortune telling clam in wonder wharf

he's sooo baby

everything is so okay bob dont even WORRY. big bob is asleep on a bench and the kids are stuck inside a giant clam they've done more dangerous stuff like twice this week already. at least they're inside??

"its fun when your dad shows up to. check on your grandpa"

ITS SO EASY FOR YOU BOB WITH YOUR CHARMING LOVEABLE FACE

do you not trust me with the kids :( noo big bob they literally (kinda) trusted GAYLE with the kids for AN ENTIRE WEEKEND u cant be worse than her at taking care of them. she was making them do some shit that Kids should not be doing. anyone remember the pretty paws

??? why was he just randomly like oohh we should win that gorilla for the kids. he loves them SO MUCH im gonna cry <3 he literally loves them and wants them to be happy. he SPOILS them. he's such a good grandpa and such a terrible dad lmfao

"are we being punished? for being helpful and delightful??"

if i was walking around an amusement park and i heard a robotic fortune telling clam SCREAMING for somebody to help it escape i would get the fuck outta there so fast sorry kids. you might be on your own w/ this one

i dont know why bob is acting like he doesn't lose the kids four times a week MINIMUM those mfs will run off anywhere if given half the chance. they live for the thrill

"we lose 'em and then we find them. that's our thing" ?? what did he mean by this

WHY ARE THEY LOOKING FOR "CUTE" TOOLS this subplot is so funny im kinda obsessed. mechanics for the girlies

HOW DO YOU MAKE A TAPE MEASURER LOOK SCARY........

teddy is scaring the hoes nooo. its okay teddy i would hire you maybe(??) well. yknow

IM A GENTLE PERSON :( teddy i will always be your biggest fan wtf he's literally so sweet. he wouldnt hurt a fly

silly <33

LMAO not louise just lying there and saying help us. help us. help us into the microphone she's so cute and SOOO over this whole situation

TEDDY IS HAPPIEST WHEN HE'S EATING BOB'S BURGERS THATS SO SWEET WTF

he's a good grandpa :(

SOMETIMES YOUR GRANDPA CAN BE A LITTLE DARK ABOUT LIFE AND NEGATIVE. YOU MEAN LIKE YOU LMAOO

if you keep saying stuff like that around your grandkids they're gonna believe you.... and then it might actually come true. so maybe don't say horrible stuff about the future to people who will have to live in that future </3

IM NOT ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT THE FUTURE AND THATS **BECAUSE** OF MY GRANDKIDS what if i cry right now. he literally loves them so much he's such a good grandpa!!! wtf Anyone else thinking about amelia right now. the ending

AAWWW THIS EPISODE WAS SO CUTE IM OBSESSED WITH BIG BOB he was such a terrible father but he's the best grandpa and he loves these kids SO MUCH. genuinely. and im so happy that his relationship w/ bob is getting better and that they're on better terms. also the subplot with teddy was adorable i always love teddy and linda subplots. they're BESTIES. maaaybe my favorite episode from this season so far but honestly they've all been so great that there's like five different episodes competing for that spot. and we're still only eight episodes in!!! absolutely everything i wanted from an episode with big bob (even if lily wasn't mentioned. SAD!! oh well there are other episodes) and i loved learning more abt his relationship with his grandkids and that dynamic ^_^ <33