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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months

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The Good Omens Musical Masterpost🎵❤

How it started :)

Some time before 2013: Vicki Larnach, the australian composer and lyricist, read the Good Omens book, imagined figures dancing on stage with brilliant music and thought, ‘Ah, I’m gonna ask Terry Pratchet and Neil Gaiman if I can turn it into a musical.’ and sent an email to the publishers. The next day she got an email saying, ‘We don’t want a musical but Terry’s coming to Australia, so come and say hello and tell us what you got.’

Rob Wilkins came down to meet Vicki and Jim Hare - Vicki's husband and writer - and took them to meet Terry. They spent an hour and a half with them where Terry asked ‘piercing questions’, had tea with them and they showed Terry a song that Vicki wrote (about the Chattering Nuns). Terry said to Rob, ‘Rob, write and email to Neil, “Dear Neil, this is Terry. I’m sitting in front of two hippies from Sydney and they want to make a musical out of Good Omens and I’m tempted to let them do it.”’ which was the best email they ever heard and then Terry said, ‘Okay, you have me curious.’ - it was because of the Nuns song which sounded like the book. ‘I’m gonna give you six months, come back with a first draft libretto and five songs.’

They then sent it to Terry who sent it to Neil. Terry said, ‘I really like it, you’re moving story, you’re doing all the right things, but where’s showstopper, where’s the toe-tapper, you know I need people to go to intermission just snapping their fingers with the song they just can’t get out of their head, and I haven’t heard that.’ - and they realized that they were so busy serving the story they forgot to do the wow-factor, but found it very encouraging from Terry that he wanted to make it better.

They went through the whole book again to find a centrepiece - and they found it when Warlock is growing up and Aziraphale and Crowley are with him, and spent months working just on that one thing and called ‘All Living Things’ [the song at the start of this post :)] which is a line from the book.*’ Terry gave that song to a person he knew and asked him to play it to his wife with no context and when the next day the person said that his wife woke up still singing the song Terry said to Vicki and Jim: ‘Well, that’s what I asked you to do.’

* [“This here’s Brother Slug,” the gardener would tell him, “and this tiny little critter is Sister Potato Weevil. Remember, Warlock, as you walk your way through the highways and byways of life’s rich and fulsome path, to have love and reverence for all living things.” “Nanny says that wivving fings is fit onwy to be gwound under my heels, Mr. Fwancis,” said little Warlock, stroking Brother Slug, and then wiping his hand conscientiously on his Kermit the Frog overall.]

Vicki and Jim got the permission to being adapting it as a musical in 2013.

Vicki and Jim on it a couple of years ‘fumbling about’, took it as far as they could and decided to bring another person into it: Jay-James Moody

In 2015, Jay James-Moody joined the collaboration initially as a dramaturge and directorial eye, eventually evolving into co-book writer. Vicki, James and Jay have continued to evolve through countless more revisions and a number of private development readings with the support, time and talent of numerous wonderful Australian performers testing the material.

In November 2017, the musical was presented in its then-current form and entirety for the first time before an audience of over 500 eager attendees. The cast included Luke Joslin, Lachlan O’Brien, Nancye Hayes, Barry Quin, Brett O’Neill, Lauren McKenna, Nicholas Craddock, Paul Capsis, Rob Johnson, Amy Lehpamer, Debora Krizak, Blake Erickson, Nat Jobe, Ana Maria Belo, Jordan Hare, Bella Thomas, Anthony Abrakmanov and Samson Hyland.

Following a rapturous response to this reading it continued to be refined and developed.

In 2019, ten days before the show came out they did their last presentation, since then they’ve been to London and shown a videotape of that workshop to Neil and Rob which was ‘a pretty heartstopping experience’ but both Neil and Rob were ‘so lovely and very generous with their time’ and they were showing it to them and in the intermission Neil said ‘I wish Terry could have seen this.’ (see here :))

Differences between the musical and the book

The ending of the musical is a bit different, they were worried about it but Neil said, ‘I totally understand, the ending of the TV series is different, because I had something that was book-shaped and I needed to make it TV-shaped. And you had something that was book-shaped and you needed to make it stage-shaped.’

It opens with the burning of Agnes Nutter and Aziraphale and Crowley are introduced there.

Act One ends with them ‘essentially breaking up’ because of a huge argument and they dissolve their friendship, Act Two starts with the first time they meet.

The Future?

What is the future for the musical: in 2021 they said that they need to work on some things and then they hope to do another run, initially in Australia.

There will be a CD of the soundtrack available when the show is produced in it’s full version.

Videos

Vicki, Jim and Jay talking 46min about the musical (this video was shown at the Ineffable Con 3 in 2021 :))

Sizzle Reel 6min

Anathema singing The Perfect Place

Crowley calling Dagon to check on the hellhound

Shadwell and Newt

Aziraphale vanishing Hastur 👀

Links

Webpage

Instagram - a lot of more bts videos and pics :)

How to support?

Subsribe to the instagram page and like and comment that you want the musical on posts :)❤. If you want to be a sponsor or donor, there is contact on their webpage.

#good omens #good omens musical #musical #masterposts #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #fun fact #:)

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dragonmuse · 7 months

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Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #the strangest message sent #and no idea if it was on purpose #I kind of think it wasn't somehow #but boy howedy did it come across

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sherewrytes · 1 month

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Ms. Good Grip

Inspired by this song

If you know you know. If you don't know how you know. Wanted to drop a fic with a more Caribbean inspo.

C.W : smut, Caribbean dialect, overstimulation, Caribbean black reader. Dom ony. Y/N be actin out

Your fav cousin wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks pouring, shots passing, weed smoke in the air all elders already left. You knew your boyfriend Ony wasn't used to Caribbean style parties. The pacing was completely from the usual parties he's used to. He was faded and tipsy, hands gripping your hips catching every whine you threw his way. You were completely bent over, if it wasn`t for your updo your hair would be touching the floor with how far you were bent over. You both took a break from dancing to get some drinks and more food before everyone's greedy ass ate it all up.

The song changed to Alkaline's on Fleek. As soon as you heard,

Whooo gyal yo pum, pum Gyal, yuh pum pum, Gyal, yuh pum pum on fleek.

You joined your other wild ass cousins in the dance circle and began whining. You made sure to position yourself right in front of Ony. You were secretly putting on all this show for him. All the weed and drinks had you wanting him. He looked so good in his semi casual fit You whined slowly at first slowly going lower to match the intro of the song staring him dead in his eyes while he smoked a joint with a bottle of Stag beer in his hand. His shades resting slightly lower on his nose. You watch him beckon you over with a finger, but you ignored him only because you loved riling him up at times, it makes the sex better.

You felt a hand grip your waist; you knew instantly it wasn't Ony's, but you decided to give the guy a lil dance. You cousin Shanice side eyed know mothing " Aye, you always lookin' for problems. You know how Ony's gonna react." You laughed saying "Oh well, small thing."

(Small thing- Trini slang for No big deal)

You heard the Dj scratch and the song changed to Spice's Jim Screechie

You were singing the song loud and clear while throwing it back on the random guy.

"And your gyal a watch you hard, but me no matter that Hold me tight and don't let me go Whine with me and me a whine with you"

You were giving him a wicked whine knowing for a fact that kinda whining is reserved for Ony but you thought "Oh well." The guy had one hand on your hips pulling you back against his hips while almost dry fuckin you on the makeshift dance floor. You felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you. You looked up and saw it was Ony pulling you off the makeshift dance floor away from everyone.

"You got me fucked up; you know that. Are you goin out of your head or sum." Ony said his voice gruff with annoyance. You on the other hand were turned on by hearin' him this way. You smirked "It's just a dance Ony. I know you're suffering from not accustom. You bein' a black American I know you won't know much about my culture and shit."

You watch Ony's eye widen with annoyance "Oh really, you really wanna go that route with me. Imma give you a last chance to take that shit back." You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Still just a lil dance Ony." You attempted to walk away big mistake.

You knew it was your fault you were now in this situation. Your hands pressed and pinned against the toilet door with your back arched. Ony was feeding deep, hard strokes. You had to way to move, one of his hands pinned your hands against the door while the other was between your spread thighs rubbing your clit.

You felt your wetness run down your thigh, you were making a mess of yourself. You were coming again. You were pleading with him to take it easy on you "Ony 'm sor-sorry...please I can't"

"Nah, you can't, you weren't whining out there on him like you couldn't so nah you gon' take this dick. It's what you wanted right."

You were panting, moaning moaning his name as fucked you harder. You were now pressed against the door, his hand now pressed against the side of your neck. Between the hard slaps of his hips against yours and the song blaring in the background, you were losing your mind. You came twice already and feeling the third one fast approaching. He was rubbing your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out faster than you realized. Your lust filled sobs were shaking your body and his, it only made him want to fuck you harder.

"Ony! Ony! Ouuu fuck I'm sorry 'm sorry please please please slow down." He stopped only to turn you over so you can be face to face as he lifted you up and pinned your back against the door again. You were both face to face. Ony's eyed still red from smoking.

"You always tryna test me and push me Y/N huh. You don't fuckin listen....actin up and showin out for WHO. that dude..playin' too much."

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your stomach clenched, you saw Ony smirk and slid his hand between both of your bodies and press down on your stomach. Your eyes widen while tears brimmed the corner. "Ouuu fuck! shit Ony..didn't mean to do it. why you fuckin me like this."

Ony tried to reign in his anger but her couldn't he felt it coming back, only pushing him to thrust deeper and harder "Don't play dumb with me Y/N you know I'm actin' like this."

Between Ony tearin your shit up and the music thumping in the background, you were close to another orgasm, tears now running down your face. Ony's hips practically pinning you between him and the door. Ony leaned in and kissed your tears away.

Ony finds your silence a bit annoying. After what felt like minutes, his hand gripped your throat. Through your teary eyes you could see you pushed Ony a bit to far but then again he knew how you were. He loved you for it.

Ony felt your body shivering against his. He kept feeding you deep, hard strokes which you were sure if the music wasn't loud as fuck everyone could hear. He felt his vexation simmering in his veins.

"Ony..please..I love you. I...Ony!" you pleaded. Ony rolled his eyes tired of hearing the same things over and over again come out of your mouth.

"Nah, love me, that's crazy Y/N. Do you really love me Y/N?" "I do Ony! I do. I won't do this shit again I swear...just.."

You were gripping around his dick so tightly he could feel his balls twitching and he fucked you against the door harder. He knew you loved pushing his buttons as much as you loved him. he wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, trying to go deep as he possibly can. You were so overstimulated you were shaking while pressed between the door and him.

"Fuck Y/N you're squeezin' me Gonna nut" you felt him fill you up groaning into your ear. You knew the amount he just came in you would leak out.

Ony sat you on the bathroom counter, helped you clean up then he cleaned up himself. You cleaned your face with make up wipes you had in your bag and reapplied your make up Ony smirked "You gon behave now my love" "Yes Ony I will"

You went back out the wedding party holding hands and smiling.

#black tumblr #aot onyankopon #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #black reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot smut #aot scenarios

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somerandomdudelmao · 9 months

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I think the thing I keep coming back to is not the enormity of their love it's the mmmm. Consistency maybe? I'm not sure that's the right word.

It's the way it manifests, right? Because of course they love each other, they're family, they're each others whole heart. Of course Mikey will sacrifice his youth to burn the kraang out of Casey. Of course Raph would give the generator at his heart to keep Leo and Mikey and Casey safe. Of course Leo would stay behind with Mikey in a ruined world. Of course Donnie would walk onto a battlefield half dead and fight the kraang off for his brothers. Of course Casey would break the laws of the universe to bring the four of them back.

Of course they would. Because they're each other's whole world. There's no ask that's too large. There's no task too impossible. There's no fight that's too dangerous. Of course they'd hand out these actions, these definitive declarations of love.

Because what other choice is there? When the options are do it or let your family suffer the answer is obvious. The answer is easy.

And those are wonderful ploy points, they're wonderful dynamics and moments and declarations. But they're not what I keep coming back to.

I keep coming back to Leo giving Mikey his hoodie when Mikey wants comfort. To Casey wrapping baby Leo in blankets. To April finding the Jupiter Jim movie and bringing it to watch with Donnie. To Donnie making Mikey young again. To Leo giving Casey piggyback rides, and swinging him around for fun. To Mikey letting Leo's scarf and tassels float with magic. To Donnie letting Casey lay on him. To Raph commiserating with Leo that Casey doesn't remember him. To Mikey comforting Raph when he lost his eye.

To Donnie showing Casey the rain.

Because when you love someone it's easy to give everything for them. To sacrifice yourself, your safety, your life. When the problem is "do something or watch them suffer, watch them die" there's no question to be asked. There's no alternative action to be taken.

But it's harder to remember to do the hundreds of insignificant things that are the actually important bits. The things that you dont have to do. Because no one will die if Mikey doesn't get Leo's hoodie. No one will be in danger if Leo's scarf doesn't blow in magical wind. No one would worry if Casey never saw the rain.

But they're love isn't just about saving each other or protecting each other. It's not about the sacrifice, it never has been.

It's about waking up each day, and spending each moment caring for someone so deeply that you take the time to find your old hoodie wherever it thrown last. Trusting someone so wholly that you share the ways you feel, even when you know there's nothing to be done about it.

Because in the end Casey wouldn't have known to miss the rain. He couldn't have cared either way about it. But Donnie wanted Casey to experience what he viewed as a small joy.

And I think that's what I've been circling for the last 500 or so words. The small joy. And the constant, consistent, never ending effort of creating that small joy for the ones you love. For comforting them. For making them smile.

And what I come back to, over and over, is that the huge moments, where it's all or nothing, when it's time to put everything on the line for those you love, means absolutely nothing unless it's backed by hundreds of thousands of moments where you sacrifice nothing more than a bit of time, or a bit of effort, or a bit of convenience. If you haven't spent your whole life doing the things that aren't a given, and aren't necessary.

Ohhh, it does things to my brain.

One thing I keep reminding myself of throughout the creation of a comic is consistency. I often want to twist some situation so that it's something new and surprising for the characters. You know, in terms of emotions and dynamics.

When Raph bot came home alive and Leo cried. A little voice inside me was saying "what if this is the first time Casey sees Leo cry? Show his reaction! Show how surprised he is!"

Or when Mikey levitates someone. "Come on, draw a surprised face. Levitation is surprising!"

All those little family moments. I keep reminding myself that they are not a group of strangers who become family. They are family. The family family. The familiest family ever jfjfbfhdksk

So instead of

"oh wow did he do that??"

it's

"well of course he did that."

It's about caring and giving and loving to the point where it's something naturally subconscious.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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asunsetgrace16 · 10 days

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...Hey Dad, Fancy Seeing You Here ⎥ CB98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!Crosby!reader

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking (at home, closed environment, limited people)

Summary: Connor and Y/N Crosby, Sidney's daughter, are in a secret relationship and are outed when she watches a Blackhawks vs. Penguins game

Notes: The italics section is the flashback to how Connor and Y/N met. This is my new longest fic, and man I got carried away writing how Y/N and Connor met. Not really proofread, so hope for the best. Requested/suggested by anonymous.

masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

It’s not exactly unexpected, for Connor Bedard and Y/N Crosby to be dating. His childhood idol, her father. Their lives are interconnected by a web of hockey players, former teammates, and friendships a mile deep. But, the caveat is, no one actually knows they are together.

Y/N knew her dad would lose his mind when he found out who exactly her boyfriend is. From the time she was old enough to date, the rule was no hockey players, absolutely no teammates, and especially no rookies. Will he find out? Eventually, but not any time soon if Y/N has anything to say about it.

“I have tickets to most of the Canadian games, and I want to watch them win gold, in person. I was planning on going to the condo. No Dad, I'm fine. No, you don’t need to have Auntie Taylor come with me. I’m absolutely taking advantage of the fact that we have a place right where the World Juniors are happening. I’m seventeen for God’s sake, and I’ve been fairly independent for years. I’ll be fine.” Y/N says, on the phone with her dad.

“I know, but you’re still my little girl. I’ll always want to protect you, no matter how old you get.” her dad, Sidney, says.

“I know dad, but this will be good practice for when I’m away at university.” She tells him teasingly.

“Uhhhg, don’t remind me.” he groans, “I trust you not to burn the place down, and try not to go overboard, with anything. The credit card for food and stuff is in the safe, and you have your own for anything else. Call me, if you need anything.”

“Thanks dad, I will.”

“Love you honey.”

Love you too, dad. Bye.”

There, that’s settled, Y/N thinks to herself. She is already in Cole Harbour, staying with her grandparents for Christmas. They already know her plans, and she convinced –not that she needed any convincing– her aunt Taylor to come with her for a girls trip. She flips her laptop open, hits play on Downton Abbey, and finishes her packing.

“Tay, are you ready yet?” Y/N calls a few hours later. She hefts her suitcase down the stairs, shouldering a backpack.

“Yeah bug, just put my bags in the car. Bring yours out here too.” Taylor replies, “We can be on the road in twenty if we hurry.”

“Make it fifteen.” Y/N challenges with a grin.

The preliminary round of the tournament passes fast. After the shocking Game 1 loss, Canada bounces back and plows through every game afterwards. An exciting quarterfinals win against Slovakia has Canada set to play USA in the semifinals. A match up that always promises an electric game.

After the quarterfinal game, Y/N and Taylor head back to the dressing rooms and player’s entrance for a shortcut to the parking lot. They both have access, thanks to Sid. They talk excitedly about Bedard’s OT winner, a wicked 3-on-1 goal.

“That was incredible.” Y/N exclaims. She’s no stranger to good hockey, but seeing a player that young, one her own age, to have such amazing talent is unreal to see.

“Yes it was-” Taylor starts, but is cut off by a man in a suit stalking towards them.

“Hey! You two aren’t allowed back here. Players and staff only. Who do you think you are? Waltzing around here like you own the place? No respect anymore.” He rants before someone grabs him, pulling him away from Y/N and Taylor.

“I am so sorry about Randy. I’m Jim, by the way.” Jim apologizes, “I’m assuming that since you’re back here, you have permission. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Wait, you’re Crosby’s daughter, aren't you? This makes a lot more sense now.”

“Yes I am, and we have permission. I can’t think of anything, it’s not necessary.” Y/N says. But Jim is determined, knowing who she is now. He offers to introduce the women to the team. They agree, and after Jim explains the situation to Randy, they all head back towards Canada’s dressing room. Talking the whole way, Jim explains that the team has a place rented for the tournament where the boys can hang out and relax.

“If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome. I won’t tell them who you are, I’ll let that happen naturally.” Jim says with a wink. “I want to see the look on their faces. It’s too bad your dad couldn't make it. That would really blow their socks off.” The group laughs and waits for Randy to make sure all the guys are decent, and beacons them in with a sheepish look, apologizing once again. The introduction is basic, no announcement or anything. Taylor and Y/N meet the rest of the staff first, quickly becoming engrossed in conversation.

“So,” the head coach says, “Crosby’s daughter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.” Y/N replies.

“Coach, did you just say Crosby's daughter? She's here? Holy shit!” one of the players exclaims, joining their little group. “I’m Brandt, nice to meet you. Is your dad here, by chance?” He says, very quickly. The energy rolls right off of him.

“No, he’s not, unfortunately. West Coast road trip.” Y/N says, failing to hide a giggle.

“Wanna mess with the guys with me?” Brandt asks, a scheming look on his face.

“Always.”

“Ok, I’m going to introduce you around, but not mention your last name. I want to see how long it takes the guys to figure out who you are.”

“Oh I like that.” They grin at each other, and make their way around the room. Before long, the whole team is standing or sitting close together, chatting with Y/N. The adrenaline can still be felt in the dressing room.

“So how long are you in town for?” Dylan asks, “Hopefully long enough to watch us win gold.”

Y/N and Brandt exchange a look, “I’m planning on it. I don’t have to be back in Pittsburg until the tenth.”

“Pittsburg? You came all the way up here, to watch a Canadian team win? That makes no sense.” Logan wonders, looking confused.

“Oh I’m Canadian, I just live in Pittsburg with my dad. I was up visiting my grandparents for Christmas.” Y/N says. It is getting awfully difficult to keep a straight face.

“Where do your grandparents live?” That comes from Olen.

“Cole Harbour.”

“Does that mean you've met Sidney Crosby?” Ethan asks.

“Yup, see him all the time.” She bites back a smile. Brandt has to turn around and take a deep, shuddering breath so he doesn’t give them away. Connor sees him out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait, you’re Y/N Crosby!” Connor says, standing up just as Y/N and Brandt burst out laughing. The rest of the boys look shocked as the two struggle to stop laughing. Connor grins, chuckling as Y/N wipes honest-to-goodness tears from her eyes. The staff and Taylor laugh amongst themselves, watching the young folks.

“Guilty as charged.” She says breathlessly, silently wondering if Brandt is going to die of oxygen deprivation at this point. His face is pretty red. Now the questions are really flowing by the time Brandt finally regains some composure. The excited chatter doesn’t stop at the restaurant, either. Y/N and Taylor are invited to stay. As the evening winds down, Y/N finds herself with Connor, conversation flowing easily.

“Nice goal, by the way. Dad was impressed.” Y/N says, nudging his shoulder with hers.

“Really?” Connor flushes. Cute.

“Yeah, he sees a lot in you.”

“That is…I have no words.” He admits. “Do you, um, do you think you’d want to sit with my family for the rest of the games? I want to talk to you more, and um…I’m just going to stop talking before I make a fool out of myself.”

“I’d love to.”

Connor and Y/N spend a lot of time together in the following days. She sits with his family during the final, and celebrates with them after they win gold.

“We did it!” Connor shouts, picking Y/N up and spinning her around. There is a moment when he sets her down where her arms are still on his shoulders and his hands are on her waist. The noise fades away, just the two of them in a little bubble. “Can I have your number? I’d like to keep talking to you, and take you out sometime.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” She replies.

Now, over a year and 10 months into dating later, Connor and Y/N are both in Toronto for the All Stars.

“Hey baby.” Connor says, putting his phone away when Y/N slips into the empty visitors dressing room.

“Hey Con.” She goes to him easily, settling comfortably into his open arms. He puts his chin on her head and tightens his hold on her. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I’m glad you decided to come.”

“Me too.” She tips her head up, meeting Connor in the middle for a sweet kiss. They go back to their hug, Y/N tucked against his chest, feeling warm again in the cold arena. They simply stand like that, swaying gently and soaking up the moment. They get so wrapped up in each other that they fail to hear voices outside the door. Connor goes to kiss Y/N again, but is interrupted by the door slamming open. Their heads snap to the door, wide eyed and scared.

“Y/N ANNA CROSBY. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Sidney yells furiously, steam practically shooting from his ears like a cartoon character. Nate is standing close behind him, and Cale, Mathew Barzal, and Brady Tkachuk stand in the doorway. Connor and Y/N take a step back from each other, but keep their hands tightly clasped.

“How dare you not tell me about this. You know the rules, I expect you to follow them.”

“I-” She begins.

“And you,” Sid says, pointing at Connor, “I expected better from you. You’re a good kid, but I have rules for a reason.” Y/N grips Connor’s hand, squeezing three times.

“You can’t control me like this, Dad. I’ve never had a real relationship because of you. So much of my life is wrapped up in hockey that it was easy to find my person there, and if it wasn’t a hockey-playing boyfriend, it was a hockey fan boyfriend which is worse. All they ever wanted to talk about was you, they never wanted me for who I am. Or you just plain scared them off because ‘no one is good enough for my daughter so why should she even bother’.” Y/N says back to him. Her chest is heaving and she is fighting off tears.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me this. How long have you two been together anyways?” Sid asks, still pissed off.

“Ten months.” Connor replies, voice strong and true despite the situation. He is nervous, of course, but he loves Y/N too much to let his childhood idol have much of an impact.

“TEN MONTHS!” Sid exclaims, incredulous that his daughter kept this secret, “Bloody hell. What possessed you to keep this from me?”

“This exact reaction that I knew would happen. I knew that if I told you when Connor first asked me out, you would flat-out forbid me to see him, and that wouldn’t have ended the way you wanted anyway. At least this way the two of us can act as a united front and you can see that this isn’t bad. We are both 18, legal adults. You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Sid stays silent. He is still angry, but the figurative steam has gone away. Nate and the others hover around the door.

Y/N continues, “I get it, Dad. You just want to protect me, and I love you for it. But I’m not a little kid anymore, I can’t be sheltered forever. And Connor’s good to me. You know he would be.” She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I knew that if I did, you would react exactly the way you are. I wanted to be able to figure out my relationship without my dad looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

Sid’s face falls at her monologue. He can finally understand what Y/N was trying to say for years. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I had no intention for it to go that far. It is hard to watch you grow up, but I need to grow up some too and understand that you are an adult now. In my attempts to protect you, I drove you straight into what I always knew would happen. Thankfully, you picked a good one.” Sid pulls his daughter into a hug, tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me, it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Thanks dad, for apologizing. I know you meant well, but I don’t think this wasn’t the best way to get you to see my side of it” Y/N quips, a wry smile on her face.

“I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me, but I’d rather it was you than a lot of other guys” Sid states, reaching out to shake Connor’s hand, “but if you hurt her, I have a lot of power in this game.”

“I know,” Connor says, eyes focused on Y/N. A look so full of love even Sidney can’t deny it, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Awwww.” The trio looks up to see the other four guys with their hands clasped over their hearts, cute pouts on their lips.

“The babies are in love.” Cale says with a grin.

#sunset fics #connor bedard #nhl #chicago blackhawks #connor bedard x reader #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #connor bedard imagine #nhl fluff

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letsgetrowdy43 · 4 months

Text

All you gotta do is ask—

Jack Hughes x reader

Request: Maybe something about jack’s best friend going to a game and is wearing someone else’s jersey and he gets jealous. Like he likes the reader but hasn’t said so. Reader likes him and doesn’t know he feels the same until they’re out after the game and he says something along the lines of “my girl shouldn’t have someone else’s name on her back. It’s wrong” and maybe cute fluffy ending because this girl is hormonal and needs the emotional rollercoaster

Jack's eyes caught hers from the bench, Ellen to her right chatting about Luke's rookie year, as she smiled fondly at him, giving him a little wave before his attention was pulled back towards the game.

"He adores you," Ellen smiled as the young girl turned to her with reddened cheeks. "What?" "Jack," she nodded towards her son on the ice, the two of them watching as he took a shot and the puck flew straight into the back of the net, both his mother and his best friend shot onto their feet, screaming with their hands in the air.

He faced the crowd with a grin, tongue stuck out of his mouth and he yelled out of excitement, sending a wink in the direction of his best friend as she blushed at the action, "he loves you," Ellen continued as the crowd calmed down, the devil's goal song still playing loudly as the girl swallowed thickly. "I love him too," she said with a soft smile, "he's my best friend," Ellen gave her a knowing look before they went back to watching the game.

The game ended with a Devils win, the first one in their string of home games before the All-Star break.

Ellen, Jim, and the young girl sat in the family room just outside of the locker room, a smile on her face as baby Haula ran over to her as she chatted with Kristen. She was pulled out of their conversation as the door opened to reveal Luke followed by a grinning Jack who maneuvered his way around the room to get to her while Luke went to their parents.

"You played so good," she grinned as he pulled her in for a hug, "my superstar," she whispered as he laughed at the nickname. "I scored for you," he mumbled into her shoulder, before looking down her back to see a larger 43 on her back, he pulled away tensely, a look of confusion on his face as her face filled with worry.

"You're wearing a Luke jersey?" he gasped. "Yeah, he gave it to me before the game, your jersey is in my car," she grinned, but his smile did not return. "I scored for you and this is how you repay me," he whispered, tone whiney as she rolled her eyes at his antics.

"I'm being serious, this feels so wrong, my girl should not be wearing my brother's jersey," her brows furrowed as her eyes caught his. "Your girl?" "Don't kid yourself, you've been mine since we were in middle school," he said smugly as her face grew a new shade of red. "You can't just deem me 'you girl' J," she said with a grin, her arms wrapping around his neck, "you gotta ask me first," her tone was taunting as he leaned in to kiss her but she dodged him and stared at him with raised brows

"You gotta ask," she fumbled, fingers playing with his damp curls. "You've always been mine Y/n/n," she shook her head, loving the mental hoops she was making him jump through as she smiled menacingly. "just ask J, it's all you gotta do, or you could beg, whatever floats your boat," her grin grew as he rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said batting his lashes as she giggled at the theatrics of it all, "Would you do me the honours of being my girlfriend?" he asked so kindly which rewarded him with a slow kiss to the lips instead of an answer, the action telling enough that it was an obvious yes.

a groan sounded from behind them as Luke, Dawson, and John grimaced at the sight in front of them. "Kissing my brother in my jersey, yucky," Luke said which gained a nice strong elbow to his ribs from his father who just smiled proudly at the couple.

"Trust me, she's taking it off," the entire family room groaned in disgust as she hid her face in his chest in embarrassment, "I didn't mean it that way guys, don't be gross!" which gained a laugh from the room as he stood them with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

#rotalks: hughes brothers night!!#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb

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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months

Note

🌱 meeting jack's entire family and realizing you're the one! They can tell that this time is different as it's so clear jack is in love w you

𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 465

♡ ─ warnings | nothing but sweet fluff!!!

♡ ─ ev's notes | aaaaaaa, i love lovesick jack

"Do you like the dinner?" Ellen's voice was soft as she watched you eat the dinner slowly. She sounded slightly concerned as she watched you but the truth was, it was delicious - you were just nervous. No one would blame you though, this was the first time meeting Jack's family and anxious was an understatement. You knew they had high expectations for their son, you just hoped they liked you.

"It's so good, thank you." You answered nervously as she smiled back warmly. She was not as intimidating as you thought she'd be. You felt Jack's hand on your thigh as he squeezed it, to let you know that he was still there with you. He knew you were nervous and you were grateful he was being sweet.

"So uh, Jack tells us you're studying at UPenn, is that right?" Jim, Jack's dad's voice was friendly, trying to engage you in conversation and ease some of the tension that hung in the air.

"Yeah, it's my last year." You replied warmly as you put down your spoon.

"UPenn is really hard to get into, you must be very smart." Jim's voice sounded impressed as he spoke.

Jack looked back at you with a smile. "Yeah, she is very smart, like I told you before. She reads a lot, too."

"That doesn't mean I'm smart," you couldn't help but blush at his compliments as you heard his parents chuckle. "I read occasionally, when I have time."

"She's just being humble." Jack rolled his eyes playfully as he continued to eat, watching his parents. His eyes lingered on you warmly as you let out a laugh, his heart swelling. Jim and Ellen exchanged glances as they watched you interact.

"So, how did you two decide to start dating?" Ellen asked, her voice carrying genuine curiosity as she leaned back in her chair.

Jack grinned, his playful demeanor shifting into a more affectionate one as he looked at you. "Well, it all started after one of my games and we started talking at the bar. We just clicked. The more we got to know each other, the more it felt like we were meant to be together."

You couldn't help but smile at Jack's words, feeling a warmth spreading through you. "It was a bit unexpected, to be honest. I never thought I'd be dating a hockey player, but here I am."

Ellen let out a laugh. "That's just adorable." Her eyes were filled with admiration as she watched you two. "You make a cute couple."

Jack's hand found yours under the table, his fingers intertwining with yours as you squeezed his hand gently. Jack's grin widened at his mother's words, a proud glint in his eyes as he looked at you. "Thanks, Mom. I think so too."

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#nhl angst #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x y/n #new jersey devils

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wineauntie · 4 months

Text

MEET THE BROTHERS – Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

summary: where you and Evie finally get to meet Luke and Jack.

note: This was the most requested fic in my inbox, so here it is! I'll probably write more of this within the next week or two. Evie is almost 3 years old in this!

warnings: literally nothing major, just heartwarming fluff. Quinn being the best, use of y/n, y/n/n, nicknames like bug, sweetheart and princess.

word count: 2.3k+

"Sweetheart, the place looks fine!"

You unplugged the hoover as you stood up, your hair tussled while Quinn carefully approached you. Your nerves were shot from the moment you'd found out that the entirety of the Hughes family was coming to stay for the weekend. Jack and Luke would be flying in around one o'clock in the afternoon whilst Jim and Ellen would only be arriving at nine that night.

To say you were stressed would be an understatement.

Due to the fact you'd only been dating Quinn for almost a year, you'd only briefly met his parents and brothers over FaceTime. Quinn had opted to spend Christmas with you and Evie instead of going home so when his parents and brothers had suggested to come visit two months later, he brought up the idea to you and you'd agreed immediately.

Despite being ridiculously anxious about meeting his parents and family, you knew how important it was for Quinn to see his family.

"It's dusty," you eventually huffed, pushing a stray hair behind your ear, groaning in frustration as it fell back in front of your face. Hot tears welled in your eyes as Quinn stepped closer, his hands cupping your face, one pushing back your hair for you.

"The place is spotless," he assured you, trying to ease the nerves he knew were beginning to overspill. "Why don't you go check on Evie and I'll finish off this, hm?"

"What if they don't like me?" You whispered almost shamefully, your head ducking. It felt like a rather childish thing to ask, but the answer haunted you. It had haunted you since Quinn had first brought up his family.

Quinn cracked a smile, a soft chuckle breaking through his lips as he tilted your chin up gently with his thumb. "They're going to adore you, just like I do. Trust me, you've got nothing to worry about," he said with unwavering confidence.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, despite the knot of anxiety still twisting in your stomach. Quinn had this way of making everything seem a little less daunting, a little more manageable.

"Okay," you relented, giving him a grateful smile. "I'll go check on Evie then." Quinn pressed a kiss to your lips as you moved around him, handing the hoover to him.

As you made your way to Evie's room, you couldn't shake off the nervous energy entirely, but Quinn's words echoed in your mind, providing a sense of comfort. Deep down, you knew he was right...but what if he wasn't? What if they thought you were some gold digger or some kind of manipulator? You'd heard both insults so many times from the moms at Evie's preschool and comments online, the thought made the tears return to your eyes.

Entering Evie's room, you found her surrounded by her toys, her face lighting up as soon as she saw you. "Mama!" she exclaimed, reaching out her arms for a hug. You scooped her up, burying your face in her soft curls, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

"Jack and Luke are going to be here soon," You explained softly, rocking your girl in your arms as she fiddled with your hair. You smoothed down her multicoloured tutu with a smile. "You dress yourself, baby?" Evie hummed happily and lifted her head from your shoulder.

"Princess skirt," She said rather solemnly causing you to mimic her seriousness.

"Oh, I agree, very nice choice," You nodded, kissing her nose as she scrunched it, her tiny hands against your cheeks.

As you carried Evie into the living room, Quinn was diligently tidying up, a determined look on his face. He glanced up as you and Evie approached, a warm smile spreading across his features.

"Hey, you two," he greeted, his voice filled with affection. "How's my favourite duo doing?" Evie giggled in response, her tiny arms reaching out towards Quinn from your arms. "Up!"

Quinn chuckled, lifting Evie into his arms effortlessly. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her down on the couch to crouch in front of her. "I love the princess skirt."

Evie looked towards you almost pointedly as you shook your head in amusement. With a glance at the clock, you realised it was almost time for Jack and Luke's arrival. Your heart fluttered nervously, but you pushed aside your worries, focusing on the excitement of finally meeting Quinn's brothers face to face.

As the minutes ticked by, the sound of a knock from the hall caught your attention. Quinn glanced at you, a reassuring smile on his lips. "Here we go," he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. He stood up and looked at you with a calm grin. "Breathe, y/n/n, they'll love you."

You took a deep breath, summoning all the courage you could muster as Quinn made his way towards the door. With Quinn by your side and Evie's hand in yours, you approached the door, ready to welcome the Hughes family into your home and into your heart.

You heard them before you saw them. Jack and Luke's cheers as Quinn greeted them, echoed through the big apartment causing Evie to jump at the noise, her hand pulling away from yours to run towards the sound in curiosity. You watched as her little feet padded towards the hall and the sight alone pulled you toward her.

"Oh, hello!"

As you turned the corner to the hall your eyes instantly landed on Jack and Luke both of whom had bent down to face Evie, who had tucked herself near Quinn's side.

"Hi there, sweetheart!" Jack exclaimed, his voice warm and friendly as he reached out to ruffle Evie's hair gently. "What's your name?" You were well aware that Jack knew your daughter's name but was more than likely doing this whole charade to put her at ease.

Evie's cheeks flushed pink with shyness as she glanced up at the towering figures of Jack and Luke. She took a hesitant step back, her fingers curling around the hem of her princess skirt. "Evie," she mumbled softly, barely audible and so different from the vivacious toddler you knew.

Luke's eyes softened as he knelt to Evie's level, offering her a gentle smile. "Evie?...that's a pretty name," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring. "My name's Luke, and this is Jack."

Evie peeked up at them, her eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of timidness. She hesitated for a moment before offering a shy smile in return. "Hi," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack and Luke exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they exchanged a silent understanding. They could sense Evie's shyness and were determined to make her comfortable.

"We heard you were here so we got you a little something" Jack spoke, his voice delicate as he gestured to a small bag atop the boys' luggage.

"For me?" Evie's eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of a possible, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You watched with your lip between your teeth as she nodded eagerly, her shyness momentarily forgotten as she took the bag from Jack's hand, her grip tiny yet determined.

Quinn watched the interaction with a fond smile, his heart swelling with affection for both Evie and his brothers. He knew how nervous you had been about meeting his family, especially for Evie, but seeing them interact so seamlessly warmed his heart.

"Ted, Mom, Ted!" Evie brandished the soft brown teddy in the air, gesturing it towards you. Jack and Luke's eyes finally met your own, their smiles widening as Jack straightened up and approached you.

"Thanks for getting him to agree to us coming," Jack commented, rolling his eyes at Quinn who whacked his shoulder. "It's nice to finally meet you in person." Before you could answer, he pulled you into a swift hug.

"Nice to meet you—you too Luke," you smiled sheepishly, glancing towards the youngest Hughes. "Evie and I couldn't wait any longer, she loves watching you guys play."

Jack looked back at Evie, who was playing with her teddy already with Luke. "We didn't want to come empty-handed," he scratched his head awkwardly. You looked down at Evie with a fond smile as Luke chatted away animatedly with her.

"She loves it," you reassured him, glancing at the teddy clutched between her shirt fingers. "You and Luke are bunking in Evie's room tonight if that's alright? She's going to crash with us."

"Room?" Evie's narrowed eyes shot towards you. You watched as Quinn picked her up with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, bug," Quinn hummed, "Jack and Luke have to stay in your room for the weekend, which means," he drawled out his words, tickling Evie's stomach as she giggled. "—you get to have a sleepover with us!"

"Show Giant room!" Evie suddenly burst, jumping in Quinn's arms, her hands pointed toward Luke. Jack, Quinn, and you all stifled your laughter at Evie's nickname for the youngest Hughes.

Luke took Evie from his brother's arms, letting her cling to him. "You can show me your room," he nodded, as Evie began to babble. Evie chattered excitedly as she pointed Luke down the hallway to her room, her tiny hand clutching his finger as if he were her lifeline. You followed behind as Quinn and Jack talked amongst each other. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the two of them bond almost effortlessly, with both of them sporting a cheery smile.

"Wow, this is a pretty big room you've got here, Evie," Luke remarked, his eyes scanning the colourful decorations adorning the walls and the toys that had been tidied to make room for a blow-up mattress as well as a camp bed.

"Sorry about the bed situation," You grimaced, "Your mom and dad have dibs on the spare room."

"I don't mind," Luke told you, shooting you a grateful glance as Evie tugged at his curls to get his attention.

Evie pointed proudly, her chest puffed out with pride. "My room," she declared, pointing to various toys and stuffed animals scattered around the room. "And Giant Luke room now!"

Luke chuckled, his heart melting at Evie's innocence and enthusiasm. "That's right," he agreed with a grin, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'm honoured to stay here, Your Majesty."

Evie giggled, her eyes sparkling with joy as she wrapped her arms around Luke's neck in a tight hug. "Funny Giant!" she exclaimed, her laughter echoing through the room.

As you watched the two of them play, a sense of warmth filled your heart. Despite your initial worries about how Evie would react to Quinn's family, it was clear that she had already formed a special bond with Luke. And seeing them interact so naturally and happily together filled you with a sense of gratitude and relief.

"Looks like you've made a new friend," you remarked with a smile, stepping closer to Luke and Evie.

Luke nodded, his eyes shining with affection as he looked down at Evie. "I think I have," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. "She's quite the little charmer, isn't she?"

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "She definitely has a way of winning people over," you grinned fondly, reaching out to ruffle Evie's hair. Quinn and Jack's voice grew closer as they entered the room,

"Looks like you two are getting along well," Quinn observed with a grin as he entered the room, followed by Jack who was sporting a playful smirk.

"Yeah, Luke's already been crowned 'Funny Giant'," you chuckled, watching as Evie giggled and hugged Luke tightly.

Jack let out a hearty laugh, clapping Luke on the back. "Sounds about right," he joked, shooting a fond glance at his brother and the little girl. "Looks like we've got a few new members of the family, eh?"

Quinn smiled, his eyes reflecting the happiness that filled the room as your heart swelled with joy. "Looks like it," he agreed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "And I couldn't be happier."

You leaned into Quinn's embrace, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite your initial nerves and worries, it seemed that everything was falling into place beautifully. And as you looked around at the smiling faces of your newfound family, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and warmth that surrounded you.

With the Hughes family settling in for the weekend, you knew that there would be plenty of laughter, love, and memories to be made. And as you watched Evie playfully chase Luke around the room, you couldn't help but feel excited for the adventures that lay ahead.

As the evening turned into night, you tucked Evie into her smaller bed that had been pushed into your room, her eyes heavy with sleep as she clutched her new teddy tightly. Quinn stood by your side, his hand intertwined with yours as you watched over your daughter with a sense of love and gratitude.

"Goodnight, princess," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Evie's forehead.

"Night, Mama," Evie mumbled sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled into her pillow.

With a smile, you turned off the light and quietly closed the door behind you, leaving Evie to drift off into dreams filled with laughter and love. As you made your way back to the living room, you found Quinn waiting for you, a soft smile on his lips.

"Everything okay?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. . "I think this weekend is going to be okay,” you replied, pressing a kiss to Quinn's lips.

Quinn smiled, his eyes filled with love and happiness. "I think so too," he agreed, squeezing your hand gently. "And hey, whatever happens, I’ve got you, alright?"

You smiled back, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "Alright," you said softly, leaning into Quinn's embrace. "We've got each other."

With that, you settled into the embrace of the man you loved, knowing that no matter what the weekend brought, you would face it together, as a family. And as you closed your eyes, your face buried into the nape of his neck, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and happiness that filled your home.

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #hughes brothers x reader #quinn hughes fluff #luke hughes fluff #hughes brothers x y/n #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #Quinn hughes x single mom!reader #jack hughes fluff #family is family universe

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seattlesellie · 11 months

Note

Can you write an ellie fic where she's getting off to photos of reader and moaning readers name and reader walks in on her

million times yes <3 ☁️🤍🐚🌫️

warnings: mdni!, masturbation, ellie’s a little bit of a weirdo, ellie gets caught.

Oops ♡

For you, being Ellie’s roommate was... hard. Unwashed dishes, the occasional sight of her boxer briefs messily laying around on the living room floor (“They fell from the laundry basket” she told), old crumpled yellow papers on the fuzzy carpet, an unwashed ashtray and a shit-ton of disorganized cards and pins adorning every single corner of the apartment.

But for for Ellie, oh, for Ellie it was even harder.

She always had a soft spot for things she’d never get. Your empty shampoo bottles never bothered her, neither did your habit of constantly forgetting to blow out the vanilla scented candles you lit once in a while, even after she told you they could be a fire hazard every. single. time.

What bothered Ellie, weren’t your complains, and neither were the repeating sounds and buzzes of your alarm clock followed by exactly eight hits on the snooze button (she counts, the walls are pretty thin).

What bothered Ellie, is that you didn’t give a single fuck about her. Or at least, that’s what she had convinced herself of.

When you’d lounge pretty on the couch, nestled within a cozy woolen blanket, your fingers tirelessly swiping and swiping and swiping through every single dating app known to man, she’d watch you intently, and stare.

It wasn’t because she was judging you, god knows she had a tinder phase herself (Amanda was her last straw. she said Ellie talked about her roommate “too much”, that she “needed to figure that shit out”, and then added a huff and a sigh followed by a “fucking lesbians, man”)

It was because she didn’t fucking get it. Could you not see what’s right in front of you? you didn't seem to... grasp the obvious. Don’t get it wrong, Ellie was not overconfident, and neither was she cocky. She just… noticed. She was observant by nature, and she knew, she was convinced shed never heard you laugh the way you do with her, with anybody else in the world. When your best friends were over for a girls night— even then, she would hear muted laughter and the occasional screech (barely audible over the backdrop of "The Smiths" blaring through her headphones) but never, ever, did that breathy, real, borderline on wheezing sound escape your mouth when you were with them. It was idly saved for her.

She’d take her earphones out— because perhaps she’d missed it, maybe she was delusional, maybe you did laugh like that— and then, plug them back in when she was met with silence or the gentle symphony of peaceful snores, and return to the solace of her music. She’d hollow in deep slumber, and have incredibly bizarre dreams of her pretty roommate roaming and floating around the apartment only in her underwear— and for some reason, a horn on her head. Dreams were fucking weird, man.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

“The Truman Show” played on tv. Jim Carey just made a funny face, and Ellie shoved another slice of greasy, brooklyn pizza in her mouth. She chewed, loudly (you sighed) and wiped her lips on her shoulder.

“I’d literally lose it if I found out my life was a tv show” you remarked, your eyes shifting from the remaining pizza to the flickering television screen.

“Meh” Ellie shrugged.

“I’d lose it if it was a video game though. Imagine if like— someone controlled every single movement you made… scary, man”

She huffed, and threw the pizza crust on the table. It fell on the floor. These fucking ants would come again, you knew they would! you gave her a stern look.

“Sorry” she softly sighed, and bent down to pick the crust off the pavement. Her boxers poked through her sweats, you looked across the room, and then you looked again. God.

“Plug you on their PS5, and go… ham and stuff” you giggled.

“Wild shit…” she shrugged. “Wild shit”

Jim Carey’s character just met the deepest corner of its own little world.

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the screen, even though she’d seen that flick about a million times.

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You know she hated when you did that while watching something with her— but you did it anyways. Something about the way her eyebrows scrunched together when she peaked at the screen through the corner of her eye always made your heart flutter. She pouted, and you tried to hide the way your lips curled upwards into a small smile.

“Should I post this on insta?” you questioned, handing ellie your phone. She took it in her hands, and the brightness was so high her eyes twinkled.

She bit her bottom lip, and then her top one.

“You’re like… half naked in that” she huffed. She wasn’t wrong, the bikini was so so tiny and the salt water covering your body, making it practically glisten in the sun, didn’t help the sensual undertones of said picture.

“I know” you stated.

She looked at you, and then looked at the screen again. Don’t look too long, she thought to herself. She handed the phone back to you, and stared at the television. Great, she just missed the best part!

“Is that a no?” you quipped.

“That’s a… who are you posting that for?” she tried asking casually, and mask her jealousy with curiosity.

There must be someone. there just must. Perhaps it’s for that girl you talked to on Bumble… shit, maybe its for that blonde from work or the one with the long braids that waved to you for too long who Ellie had made her arch enemy. Or maybe it was for that fucking ex girl—

“Why would you think I’m posting it… for someone?”

Ellie sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Cause you look good in it.”

She gulped, and moved a hair strand from her face. it itched, all of a sudden.

“Or like— you look naked or something.”

You rolled your eyes back, and yawned.

“Is that a no?” you questioned.

“No what?” she snickered.

“Is that a no i shouldn’t post?” you removed a microscopic piece of lint that landed on her hoodie, it made her shiver.

She let out a shaky breath, and toyed with the string that hung loose from her black nike socks.

“Why are you askin’ if you’re gonna post it anyways?”

You smirked. For some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on, sometimes, conversations with her weren’t exactly easy.

“Who said i’ll post? I asked you because I needed your advice”

“Sure” she stated, and slid off the couch.

“Post it” she crossed her arms.

You nodded. post!

You already had one like. Oh, it’s that blonde girl from work. fire emoji, winky face emoji, red heart emoji. Nice!

“M’going to bed” she groaned, and shoved a tiny mushroom in her mouth.

“Ugh. gooey”

You looked up from your phone, and shut it off with a click.

“But you’ll miss the best part!” you pouted.

“Tired” she shrugged. Her face scrunched together. how is she so fucking adorable.

“M’kay… night!”

Ellie dragged her body across the dim lit living-room, and almost slipped on one of her socks.

“Mmmmight” she mumbled.

“Say it nicely!” you yelled across the room, it echoed.

“Good nightttt”

The door slammed shut. Ellie sat down on the bed, and stared at the wall. She cracked her knuckles, one by one, and threw her head back on the mattress, wrapped up by green flannel sheets. Her head landed on the pillow with a soft thud, and she took a long, deep breath. She wasn’t even tired, why did she lie?

That image just took over her brain again. She had only glimpsed it briefly, not truly absorbing its details, before reluctantly handing the device back to you. If she stared any longer— her cheeks would burn a bright pink.

The screen of her Android glowed in the darkness, so she grabbed it. Always on silent mode.

A message from Joel; “Got Maria to iron some of your clothes. remember Janet from across the street? She passed away last week, LOL (lots of love).”

Ellie scratched her eyes, chuckled, and took a screenshot. no fucking way.

A message from Dina; “can u send me some lives on candy crush?”

Followed by another one;

“send them right now or die”

So she scrolled some more.

Instagram; “dinawoodward, jessethekinggglol, courtneycameron and others liked this post!”

She tapped, and thats when her eyes popped out of her head. she suddenly felt parched. She looked around the room— that water-bottle she kept from two weeks ago after a trip to the local bodega must be around there somewhere.

It was not, so there you stood, almost half-naked, a playful smile gracing your lips, the sun-kissed sand partially covering your stomach, and the gentle touch of saltwater caressing your chest. A pair of brown sunglasses adorned your face, with the serene sea standing still in the background.

Ellie blinked once. And then once more, and then she zoomed in.

Her face twitched, and her breath hitched inside her throat. It felt as though her breath had been captured and confined, held hostage within her, struggling to find its release.

She double tapped, and began typing;

“If I could, I’d fuck the shit out of you”

She stared at her keyboard, and breathed deeply. What would happen if she, actually pressed send. Would you come barging inside her room and throw something at her? the green colored vase, maybe? or would you delete her comment, pretend it never happened and move on? perhaps you’d think she was just fucking around, and scold her for typing something like that where everyone could see. “You’re such a creep, el!” she could almost hear you say it. And she could almost feel the way your palm would slam right into her shoulder and nudge it her the side. It made her ears feel warm.

She zoomed in on your tits. Ellie’s face flushed a pretty, dusty pink.

Then, she zoomed in on your stomach, and her nipples perked up inside her hoodie. They grazed the material softly, and she let out a shaky breath.

When she zoomed in on your smile, she smirked at the screen. it made her feel warm and fuzzy and happy and she hated every minute of it. “Never gonna get it” echoed in her ears, a reminder of the "truth" tugged at her heart.

When she zoomed in on your covered cunt, she nearly went cross eyed. She could almost see the outline of your lips— or was she tripping?

Her cunt clenched around absolute nothingness inside her boxers. Was she… getting fucking wet over this?

She gulped, as waves of guilt washed over her. and then, she zoomed in on your tits again, and she felt so turned on she couldn’t even remember what the word guilt even meant.

She heard the echo of your giggle reverberating through the corridor, filling the space with a sound that made her stomach turn. the rhythm of your footsteps grew louder, gradually approaching your room situated just across from hers.

Perhaps you chuckled at something amusing one of your fucking bumble buddies had to say. She lightly bumped her forehead against the screen of her phone, her lips pressed together, forming a thin line.

Your door slammed shut, and a tune began.

“you’re so gorgeous… i cant say anything to your face, cause look at your face…”

How fucking ironic.

“Shut up alexa!” you groaned at the device, causing ellie to stifle a giggle, before she felt the pool flow down her boxers.

The apartment descended into a profound silence, save for the sound of Ellie’s labored breaths echoing in the stillness. she leaned in closer, scrutinizing the image on the screen, alternating between zooming in and zooming out, and crosser her legs together.

When the imagination of your bare tits popped up in her mind, your nipple poking through as you held them together on the screen, it ached inside of her.

Would it really be so wrong if she…?

There was no real harm in it, she thought. It was either this, or close her eyes and rub one off in the darkness, and even then— she had a nagging intuition that you would somehow find your way into her thoughts.

Woudl it really make her that much of a fucking pervert?

Ellie groaned, and brought her knees up to her stomach. Her phone was still in her hand, and that picture teased, and teased, and teased till she couldn’t handle it anymore.

Fuck it. if she did this, she was going to do it right. And she needed to see it close up— and not through her cracked fucking screen she wasn’t bothered fixing for two whole weeks now.

She opened the screen of her laptop, and when she sat on the black leather rolling chair, It felt fucking uncomfortable down there. It was sleek, and she could feel her cunt slide off on the fabric of her boxers.

“Fuuuuck me” she hissed under her breath.

www.instagram.com

Right click.

Your profile, right click. Her hand held a tremor.

You were the focal point, the star of the show, illuminating her old, black HP laptop. The screen, adorned with a thin layer of dust, caught her attention. She leaned in and blew gently, causing the particles to disperse and float away.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricting as she continued to gaze intently. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady herself, but the inhalation felt jagged and uneven.

She brought a veiny hand to graze the fabric of her grey colored sweats, just above her clothed cunt, and she felt so fucking relieved.

And it still wouldn’t stop fucking pulsing.

she stared at the bikini, and rubbed her finger up and down slowly, cupped her cunt forcefully, slapped it and whimpered.

“Goddamn” she huffed.

She began tracing big, deliberate circles, her touch slow and steady, causing the fabric of her boxers to cling to her wet cunt.

She had to take them off.

Swiftly, she inserted her thumbs into the edges of her boxers, right at the level of her hipbones, and pulled them down in one fluid motion. The fabric gathered messily around her ankles. She felt so fucking nasty.

Ellie spread her legs, and gasped as the cool air hit her most sensitive place. She waited for a minute, mouth agape, teasing her cunt before she touched it. She swore she could cum with just squeezing in and out while staring at your face.

However, she could not tease herself anymore when those thoughts began forming clearer and clearer.

She brought a long finger and caressed her slit slowly from her hole to her puffy little clit. "Oh fuck yes" she hissed.

It started with thinking about your tits. Her mind wandered, and her hole leaked into the leather chair, forming a small droplet to lay down on it. She breathed heavily.

The thought of you, taking off that bikini top in front of her went through her mind. Slow, deliberate process of undoing its strings, so so agonizingly slow. When they spilled out, ellie let out a high pitched moan.

“Touch them, Ellie” you whispered in her ear.

“Please touch me…” you whined.

She gasped, took two fingers, her middle and her ring, and formed tiny, slow circles on her wet clit. Ellie spread her legs wide, and placed them on the table.

It looked absolutely obscene.

In reality, Ellie was touching herself to a picture on a slightly dusty old screen. In her imagination, you stood pretty begging her for more. Your fucking whines did it for her, and she didn’t even know what they sounded like for real.

You circled your nipples, pinched them and spat a glob of saliva, letting it streamline down your tits, teasing ellie so bad she was already panting. They glistened, and ellie latched on to them, sucking and spitting and whimpering groaning.

“So good Ellie...” you moaned, holding the back of her hand and pushing her deeper.

“I want you so fucking bad”

“Holy fucking shit” she hissed, and slapped her clit. one slap! two slaps! she was desperate.

“Fuuuck yes” she whimpered, and plunged a finger inside her aching hole. It sucked her completely in, clenching around her fingers. She gasped, and slid off the chair.

She was staring at your fucking cunt with her eyes half shut. she swore she could see those fucking lips.

Now, Ellie’s mind took a turn. You laid pretty on her bed, chest heaving up and down, legs spread completely open with a pink vibrator buzzing on your clit.

“Ellie!” you moaned.

“Fuck me... please please please"

She plunged a second finger, and bucked her hips inwards and backwards. She whimpered, and a shaky breath followed by the sound of your name escaped her quivering lips.

“Need you in my pussy… p—pretty please”

She swore she could hear you say it.

Ellie pounced on her bed and savored you whole. she bit your clit, sucked on it and got her entire face wet with your juices.

“God yes” she groaned, wet, squelching sounds filling the room. She pumped them in and out, and in and out again, whilst the other hand was circling itself fast on her needy, pulsating clit. Every few seconds, she’d slap it again, open wider and wider, bucking and riding them so hard she could almost see a supernova right in front of her.

The dull ache in her pussy grew bigger and bigger.

“You need me? fucking whore” she whispered under her breath.

Thin, shiny, sticky drool flowed from the corner of her mouth, it landed on the top of her hoodie.

“Yes Ellie… please Ellie need you in my pussy” She pumped them profusely, feeling your walls take her in like she needed to. When she pumped them inside of herself— That’s what she liked to imagine. It was you, who took her in. They were your walls, your wet cunt begging and screaming for more.

She felt it coming in the pits of her stomach. It grew bigger and bigger, like a wave, or a volcano, threatening to erupt and make her cream all over her chair.

“Ellie yesyesyesyes!” you moaned.

She circled faster and faster, her perky tits bouncing up and down with every movement of her hips. The chair squeaked, but she couldn't be bother to take it slow.

“Ellie?” your voice echoed through the corridor.

“Yeah baby s— say my fucking name, fuck” she hissed, her eyes completely shut.

“Ellie?”

God, it felt so fucking real. Almost there. She bit her lip, and it drew blood.

The door collided with the wall, hitting it with a loud thud.

“Ellie?”

“N— fuNgh”

She almost screamed so loud the gods could hear. she shut her laptop off before even pulling her fingers out.

She was going to fucking faint.

Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson, intense embarrassment radiating from her form, hands trembling uncontrollably, and the expression on her face was one of sheer horror— wide eyed.

She got caught.

"What..." you uttered, your voice trailing off as you stood frozen in place, your mouth agape. Your knees threatened to give way beneath you.

You shut the door.

Ellie, her chest heaving, struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my—“

“God”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie tlou2 #wlw #ellie williams x female reader

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hughesurdaddy43 · 4 months

Text

Come over

Summary: I'm setting off. But not without my muse

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem reader

Note: IM sorry guys this one is actually so long so I cut it in half so the next part Ill post tomorrow & its gonna kill you

It's been three days since you've last seen Quinn. 72 hours since the two of you shared a kiss. 259,200 seconds of you replaying that moment in your head, over and over again.

Quinn had already left for his away game, and not seeing him in person again after he single handedly took your breath away was driving you crazy.

You sit on your couch, having yet another lazy day after opting out of going into your office today. Your mind is too much in a daze to deal with annoying coworkers who are a little too interested in your friendship with the famous hockey player. With your computer in your lap, you try and focus on an email from your boss that has gone unread for the last four days, and as soon as you start reading the first line, your phone starts to ring.

Quinns name flashes on the screen and you don't hesitate to toss your computer to the side and answer your FaceTime call. He flashes a smile as soon as the call connects. It's dim where he is, and you soon realize that he's on the bus. His under eyes are dark, and his beard is a little more scruffy than usual, but that doesn't stop you from thinking he's still the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on .

"Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?" You ask Quinn, raising your eyebrow at him. It's a mom kind of question, one that you know Ellen would ask if she had seen him awake this late at night after he had played, and won a game.

"Couldn’t sleep," He tells you, and you know it's a lie. His poker face never worked on you. You roll your eyes at him letting him continue. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Your heart does a backflip, which seems like the only thing it's been doing lately.

"Go for it." You tell him.

Before Quinn responds, you watch as he pulls his headphones off and look off in the distance. He's talking to someone on the other side of the phone, so you take another moment to admire him. The way he listens intently to whoever it is he's talking to you, how his eyes don't look away until he's finished talking.

He makes it easy for you to remember all the reasons you fell in love with him.

"What are you doing right now?" He asks once his attention is back on you. You let out a laugh, pulling your phone closer to your face. "I'm waiting for that question you wanted to ask me." You say in a 'duh' tone.

Quinn laughs, following your own actions and pulling his phone closer to his face. You can't help but stare at his lips, reminiscing how they felt against your own.

"Oh yeah, I'm flying you out to Jersey. To watch me and my brothers play. Well," He pauses, "Just Luke actually, Jack's out with an injury, but mom and Luke would love for you to be there."

"That wasn't a question, Quinn. And what about Jim?" You tease, and Quinn smiles again. "Jim is Jim. So, you'll be there?"

You shrug your shoulders, looking over at your computer that still has the email from your boss on the screen.

"I already bought the flight and the hotel, and it's" Another pause, "10:45 right now. Your flight is tomorrow at 9 in the morning, and you'll get to Jersey some time in the evening. I have a driver picking you up." A final pause, Quinn catches his breath. "It's all taken care of." He says softly.

It's times like this, where you remember Quinn has money. Where he's willing to spend a lot of money for you to be anywhere with him, but with the sweet gesture comes curiosity and you can't help but wonder if he's done things like this for her.

A part of you wants to tell him no. You have your own life in Vancouver. Your job, half-assed plans that you'd already made with your friends, you can't always drop everything for Quinn. But he knows you better than he knows hockey. He knows you'll be there.

"I guess I should start packing then, yeah?" His smile grows wider, "Will you text me when you're boarding?" He asks, and you nod your head 'yes'

The both of you stare at each other through your screens. Silently admiring each other. Secretly acknowledging how easy it is for you two to be together.

Once you hang up, you immediately run to your closet. Most of the items hanging up are Quinns. Hoodies, t-shirts, old jersey and even a couple of suits that he's left after late nights and early mornings. "What's mine is his" You think to yourself. You start throwing in a mix of yours and his clothes.

New Jersey is a cold state, something you'd learned the hard way after a failed trip a few years ago. You'd insisted that you didn't need to bring a winter coat on your trip because you already live in a cold climate, you were used to the cold. Quinn reminded you how you were always cold, and that you'd definitely needed to bring your coat, but like a stubborn child, you'd ignored him. "I'll be fine," You had told him, and instead of arguing, he let you figure it out on your own.

You stare at the winter coat hanging up. The winter coat Quinn had ended up buying you because he had gotten tired of you stealing his.

And it's almost like he's listening to your thoughts, sharing your memory even though he's thousands of miles away, because once your phone dings and you look down at your home screen, you see Quinn has reminded you to make sure to bring your winter coat.

#hockey boys #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #hockey blurb #nhl fic #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #luke hughes #jack hughes #nhl

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gisellaswrld · 5 months

Text

i’m at a loss of words even looking at you; no pain could ever reach how it felt when you twisted the knife.

jh86 | traveling to michigan due to the loss of your father sucked. especially when a familiar face longed to speak to you.

The passing of your father was sudden, unexpected really. The last time you seen him-- a few months ago-- he was perfectly fine. A week ago, your mom called you stating he had fallen really ill. A few days after, she announced his passing to the family.

You made the unfortunate flight to Michigan, having to take your second semester finals earlier to be able to make it to Michigan. Luckily, all your professors were willing to allow you to take them early.

Being in Michigan brought a dark gloom over your head. Of course, it was mostly due to your father's passing, but the last time you were in Michigan, it didn't end well.

Last summer, you were in an on-and-off situationship with your long-term best friend Jack Hughes. At first, it was great. You had the ability to brag that you were the one Jack was fucking at night, you were the girl that Jack had his arm around at the party of the night.

Until you fell for him, something that was easy to do. Jack had charm, his game with women was off the charts. You knew he had a way with getting women to fall easily for him. Before you agreed to the friends with benefits deal, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t fall in love — but you did.

Instead of effectively communicating your feelings to Jack and dealing with the rejection, you ghosted him when you went back to school. You expected him to reach out to you, but instead you got nothing from him. In the end, you thought that hurt worse than rejection ever could.

You stood in front of the mirror that hung on the door to your childhood bedroom. Smoothing out the black dress, you sucked in a deep breath. You were sure Ellen and Jim would be at the visitation. You just were unsure if they forced their three sons to join along.

A soft knock pulled you from your thoughts. You opened the door to see your mother, her eyes clearly swollen from her late night sobbing.

“Are you ready, honey?” Her hoarse voice spoke. You gave her a sincere smile. You knew your mother was in a lot of pain. After all, she lost her husband — the love of her life. You were upset about your father’s passing, but your mother was just completely empty of any emotion besides grief.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my purse. I’ll be right down.” You replied, voice quiet. Your mother nodded, shutting the door to your room. Seeing your mother in this deep of pain hurt you beyond words could explain.

You reached for your purse that was slung on the desk chair, accidentally knocking a few things over. “Shit-“ You grumbled, trying to gather them. You noticed a small note that was hidden behind the old clutter on your desk.

Good Luck in Maine, Stevie. I’ll miss you while you’re gone! - Jack

The familiar — yet unfamiliar — nickname made your stomach turn. It came from your undying love for Stevie Nicks in middle school. When you and Jack would walk home after school, the sound of Fleetwood Mac was always playing from your speaker. Jack turned that into a nickname for you.

You had been wondering why listening to Fleetwood Mac had been making you upset recently, the note just clicked a few buttons in your brain to remind you.

You crumbled the post-it note into your hand, tossing it somewhere in your room. With a huff, you grabbed your purse and left the room. Your family had been waiting downstairs. Evelyn, your younger sister, had a blank expression on her face due to the grief. Your older brother looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well.

You were the epitome of a mourning family.

Your mom drove everyone to the funeral home, it was an hour before the visitation started. Your mother wanted to ensure the visitation room was prepped like how she wanted it.

The visitation room made your heart twist and ache. There were photos of your dad scattered everywhere. Family photos, old prom pictures, even pictures of him attached to a telephone pole from his first job were posted.

“Wow,” Your brother commented, his eyes turning glassy quickly. “This is… this is heavy.” He continued, swallowing harshly.

Your eyes quickly connected to a photo. It was of your father and Jim Hughes. They were the best of friends in high school. The photo was of them holding you and Jack when you were babies. You shook your head, rolling the tears out of your eyes.

Soon enough, the visitors started to roll in. They ranged from family to friends and even some of your own peers showed up. You and your brother stayed off to the side, watching as family consoled your mother.

“Surprised Aunt Nancy even showed her face. Last time I check, she was strung out on meth in Illinois.” Your brother scoffed, staring directly at your father’s sister.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted her here.” You replied, agreeing with him.

Your attention was turned to the family walking in, the Hughes family. All five of them were present, even Jack. Your stomach turned, feeling queasy at the thought of being in his presence.

Jim spotted you and your brother, considering you were off to the side of the crowd. He led his family over.

“I see your mom is caught up with your father’s family?” Jim commented, a sad expression on his face. He lost his high school best friend, the guy he partied with through college, and the guy he purposefully lived next to in Michigan — just so they wouldn’t be apart.

“Nancy is here,” Your brother answered, watching as Jim rolled his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sure this is hard,” Ellen frowned pulling you into a hug. You haven’t cried yet today, but this interaction was pushing you close to your limits.

“It is, but what can you do,” You answered, a small frown forming on your face. Your eyes trailed over to Jack, who was piercingly staring at you. You pulled out of Ellen’s grasp, watching as her and Jim got swept away by your mother.

Quinn was the first to speak up. “So, what happened? Jimmy said it was unexpected.”

You looked over at your brother, knowing you’d be the one to explain the story. “He got admitted to the hospital after he went for a high fever. Turns out he had many malignant tumors in his lungs and bronchus. He passed not too long after.” You sadly answered, your voice nothing short of monotonous.

“Fuck — that’s awful.” Luke sighed, scratching at his head. You and your brother shrugged simultaneously. “It happens.” Your brother responded.

Jack stood quietly behind Quinn, his attention fully devoted to you. Your stomach churned, causing you to become light headed. “I’ll be back,” You whispered to your brother, quickly walking out of the visitation room.

You found the women’s bathroom, quickly slamming open the door. You didn’t have time to lock the door behind you. Your body hunched over the toilet, the contents of your stomach spilling out of your mouth. Your body was shaking due to the exertion. You had a few tears spilling from your eyes, ones that you quickly wiped away.

You flushed the toilet, falling against the bathroom wall. “Of course—“ You commented, your voice quiet.

Slowly, your stood to your feet, standing in front of the mirror that was above the sink. You let out a shuddered breath. You ran the water, gargling some water in your mouth. You spit it out into the sink, feeling some relief.

While leaving the bathroom, you had your head in your purse searching for gum. You felt your body come to a halt as someone grabbed your arm. You found the gum, sliding a piece into your mouth, then looked up to see Jack.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, his hand gripping onto your arm. You looked down, pulling your arm from his grasp. “I’m good.” You confirmed, nodding at him.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” He asked, his eyes forming into a glare. You raised your eyebrows, scoffing. “Are you really asking me why I didn’t reach out at my dad’s visitation?” You quickly fired back, watching as his expression changed.

“I just wanted to know, Stevie. That’s all.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stated, turning on your heels to walk away from him. You sucked in a deep breath once back into the visitation room, joining your brother once more.

This is going to be a long week.

You peered out at the sinking sun, watching as night fell onto the town in Michigan. The colder atmosphere chilled the air, unfortunately you didn’t bring a jacket.

The large pier was empty this time of year. There were no tourists to occupy the town, just those who lived here year round. The sound of the water moving and occasional car driving past kept your mind at peace.

This is where you decided you hated Michigan.

A car door could’ve been heard if you weren’t trapped in your mind. The car door could’ve signaled to you that someone would be joining you within moments. It could’ve been a serial killer, or some elderly woman who wants to knit.

Instead, it was Jack.

He sat down next to you on the bench, quietly turning his head to you. “Your brother told me you were here,” Jack spoke, his eyes fixated on you. “I didn’t ask,” You simply replied, voice quiet.

“Do you hate me, or something? I’m lost at how suddenly you just disappeared, and why you did.” Jack blurted, turning his body slightly towards. you.

You shrugged, a small frown forming on your lips.

“Do you regret it? Or did we do something that we shouldn’t have?”

You shook your head, then shrugged once more. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone be near him.

“Stevie, we were best friends before whatever happened this summer. Your dad just died, and you are like a closed off shell of what you used to be. Why won’t you just talk to me?” Jack pleaded, his eyes starting to water.

As badly as you wanted to explain your feelings, explain how you didn’t want to be one of those girls that he picks up whenever he wants just to throw them away, explain how you didn’t feel like you even compared to his previous girlfriends, or even explain how you fell in love with him, you chose not to.

Simply out of the fact you didn’t want to be one of those girls crying over the fact that Jack Hughes never loved them.

“I don’t want to talk Jack, at all. I just simply want to be alone,” You abruptly stood from the bench, pulling your sleeves over your hands. “Stop trying to get me to talk to you,”

You quickly walked back to your car, then slowed down once you realized he wasn’t following behind you. Once in the safety of your car, you broke down. Sobs racking your body during the whole drive back to your childhood home.

The bar was practically empty at this point of the night. It was two in the morning and you were five drinks deep. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but due to your small tolerance of alcohol, it felt like a lot.

Your mind was running, thoughts swirling quickly through your brain. Frankly, you didn’t know why you haven’t just laid your feelings out on a silver platter to Jack.

You thought back to what he told you on the pier, and he was right. Your friendship had been deeply rooted into your life. It was wrong for you to shut him out like you’ve been. It was out of your own stubbornness, and now you were cursing yourself for it.

You sighed, fishing your phone out of your purse. You signaled for the bartender, asking for her to close you out.

“Hello?” Your brother’s tired voice grumbled through the phone. “Hey, I’m at Joe’s, can you come get me?” You slurred, your head resting against your hand.

“It’s literally two AM, are you serious?” Your brother continued to grumble, his voice becoming more annoyed. “Please?” You pleaded.

After a few moments, hearing him tap at his phone and the ruffling of his sheets. “Jack’s gonna be there in ten to come get you.” Your brother informed. “Stop being rude to him, by the way. He just wants to help.”

You heard the chime of the hang up sound, groaning to yourself. The bartender handed you the debit card that belonged to you, giving you a sincere smile.

After a little while, the door bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered.

“Stevie come on,” Jack muttered, standing behind you. You felt the tension, causing your less than sober state to fill with nerves. You slid off the bar stool, sulking as Jack led you to his car.

Once safety inside, Jack started the drive back.

“Why?” Jack asked, his focus on the road. “Why are you doing this to yourself again?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” You shrugged. Tears started to run down your face, regret filling your body due to your actions.

“You’ve shut me out once before, and you know how that makes me feel. I don’t know why you are doing it again.” Jack continued, his hands gripping onto the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry, Jack” Your voice shuddered as you spoke, your eyes staring down at your hands.

“And I don’t know if you’ve just been acting like this because you are going through a lot right now, but I just wish you’d talk to me. And drinking — really Stevie — drinking? This is how you are going to work through your pain?”

“I-“ You stuttered, shrugging as you tried to finds words to speak.

“You don’t have to answer now, you’ve been drinking.” Jack stated, pulling into your driveway. You sat in the car, not sure of what to do or say.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing over at him. Jack briefly glanced at you, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, just text me.” Jack replied, nodding. “Bye,” You quietly excused yourself, getting out of his car.

The rest of the night, you laid in bed, thinking of things to tell Jack tomorrow.

Jack sat across from you, nursing a hot black coffee. Your head ached with a never ending headache due to your hangover. You sipped on a iced chai latte, silent.

"Tell me what's going on," Jack requested, breaking the heavy silence with a sentence that made your body flood with anxiety. You wished you never asked him to talk - but you decided that your since your trip was coming to an end soon - it was now or never. Never meaning you would lose your best friend for good.

You attempted to gather words in your brain, opening your mouth to speak but nothing would flow into coherent sentences.

"I really - do you regret this summer? Do you thing it changed anything?" You asked, your mouth running dry with your words.

Jack knit his brows together in confusion, quickly shaking his head. “No, I don’t regret it. Do you?” Jack leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet. “I don’t regret it, but something changed.” You spoke, eyes tearing away from his.

“What changed, Y/N?” Jack’s face flooded with worry. “Because if it’s something I can fix, I want to. I just want my best friend back, I just want you back in my life.”

“That’s the thing, Jack.”

“What? What’s the thing?” Jack’s voice was rushed, his eyes searching your face for any answers. He used to be able to read your expressions like an open book, but now it was like trying to read a locked diary.

“I can’t be your best friend anymore-“ You were quickly cut off.

“What the fuck? Why? Why can’t you be my friend anymore? Because we fucked? I mean, I can see how it would change things but I feel like it-“ You quickly cut him off in return.

“No, Jack. It’s because I fell in love with you.” You harshly stated, eyes quickly locking onto him. You could visibly see a wave of emotion rush over him.

Jack sat in silence, his brain swirling with many thoughts and questions. He was unsure of which one to ask first, to learn about. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You scrunched your face, clasping your hands in your lap. “I’ve known you for how long, Jack? You’ve told me about every girl you’ve brought home, immediately knowing whether or not they’d be a quick hook-up or if it would be more. You’ve told me how many times you’ve ghosted girls over something small they did that threw you off.” You paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be one of those girls.”

“You never were, Y/N. We have too much past to even make you remotely close to one of those girls.” Jack shook his head, disbelief flooding his brain. Did you really think that he would just drop you?

“Jack, be serious. If we didn’t have the past, if our families weren’t close friends, would I be one of those girls?” You asked, a stoic expression on your face.

Jack shook his head again. “Absolutely not. If you were one of those girls, Y/N, if I even remotely felt like treating you like those girls, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t have kept being around you all summer if you were one of those girls. You just — it was natural — it felt easy to be around you like that,” Jack explained, confessing thoughts in his head he never thought he’d say out loud.

“Why?”

“You are different. Your achievements are far different from how many Instagram followers you have, you have actual goals in life. You never thought of me as some fucking — as #1 draft pick with a 8.8 Million dollar contract — I’ve always just been Jack to you. I’ve always been the kid your parents forced you to hang out with. I’ve never been some celebrity in your brain. You make me feel different.” Jack let out a deep breath after his small speech, his eyes focused on you.

“Jack, I-“

“I’m not finished. You are in school, pursuing fucking politics, Y/N. You spend your nights studying instead of throwing back as much Pink Whitney as you can. Instead of posting sponsorships on social media, you post about your friends, family, achievements. I have always thought you were the smartest girl I’ve known. I always surrounded myself with girls different from you to try to convince myself that it wasn’t right to have feelings for you. Because you don’t deserve to be with a guy who won’t have a career in thirty years, who doesn’t even know what he’s going to do with his life in thirty years.” Jack ran a hand through his tousled hair, moving to anxiously fiddle with the strings to his hoodie.

“I think your monologue was longer than my final paper this semester, no offense.” You spoke, trying to ease the heavy mood. “I — uh — wow. That is a lot to process? Give me a second to think.” You spoke, thinking maybe Jack would actually let you think for a moment.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you since sophomore year of high school. That’s the whole point of that speech or whatever.” Jack stated quickly, clarifying his words.

“So, now what?” You asked, shrugging. “You go back to New Jersey, I go back to Maine, now what?”

“We figure it out. Because, Y/N, seriously. I’ve gone the past five months not speaking to you, and I really can’t go any longer.” Jack frowned, scratching at the small patches of stubble that had been growing.

“We figure it out?” You questioned, waiting for him to confirm his words.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve figured out ways for you to come to New Jersey for like the past three years. I’m sure it won’t be any less harder, now. You have one semester left at college, then it’s up in the air, yeah? I think we’d be able to figure it out.” Jack nodded, feeling less suffocated that he had previously felt. “Only if you want to though.”

You, on the other hand, were still battling with your internal insecurities. Your lip was tucked between your teeth, biting at the dead skin. “I need to get some air, for a second.” You stood from the chair, heading outside the small coffee shop to think in peace for a moment.

You knew it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. And, you knew Jack would treat you right. He already did so much for you, as a friend. Sending you sweet messages when you were upset, ordering you uber eats when you were up all night studying, the signs were all green.

Yet, the lingering thought of if you were good enough still pounded into your brain like a headache.

You heard the door chime, not realizing they maybe you have been sitting outside for far too long. Jack stood on the side walk, a sad expression plastered on his face.

“Just let me know-“

You stood to your feet, rushing over to him. You placed you hands on his cheeks, planting your lips onto his. Jack hesitated, but soon his hands found your hips, squeezing.

“We’ll figure it out.” You mumbled, watching as his eyes flickered brightly.

“We will figure it out,” Jack nodded, pulling your body against his chest.

You were sure that Jack would do his best to navigate through his life, especially if you were by his side. You knew that Jack would treat you as best as he could, always ensuring you were happy with how the relationship was going. You knew Jack just as well as you knew yourself.

Maybe being back in Michigan wasn’t as bad as you thought it was.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jackhughes #jack hughes x reader

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findafight · 1 year

Text

Wait. Wait. Kinda part 2 to this post. For the angst of it all. Cw: implied and assumed homophobia

Because sure, after that dinner Joyce relents in not being, y'know, openly confused or frustrated with Steve being around. El obviously adores him and Jim is always glad when he comes around. Joyce can put up with Steve for them. But she's a stubborn woman, and somewhere in her mind, Steve is a Bad Egg. So she's still not 100% on board.

All this rears its head one night after a lot of their world saving group has had a movie night and ended up in a puddle on the floor. Steve is squished between Robin and Eddie, snuggled up all cozy. Joyce sees this when she quietly pads out of her bedroom to just. Check on the kids.

Eddie and Steve are sat up, Robin's face pressed against his hip. They're whispering something, heads leaned close. And they lean in further, silhouetted by the moonlight filtering in, and kiss. It's pretty chaste, though not a peck.

Joyce's blood boils. Steve has a girlfriend, he should not be going around kissing his friends like that, stringing them all along. She feels strangely vindicated, that her assumptions about Steve were right, that he wasn't actually a good guy or had changed at all. She almost yells at him then and there, but holds off. No need to wake everyone up. She can lecture him in the morning.

Once everyone is fed and lounging in the late morning, she pulls Steve out onto the porch.

"I saw you kiss Eddie last night" she says, without preamble. "And I cannot believe you would think behaviour like that is acceptable in my house."

Steve blinks, clenches his jaw. "Jo--Mrs Byers. I--"

"I don't want any of your excuses! It's despicable what you're doing, and I won't have it. For whatever reason, those kids look up to you. What kind of example are you setting for them? For El?" Steve's eyes widen, and if Joyce hadn't been so caught up with her anger she probably would have seen that instead of being ashamed or embarrassed, Steve is scared. "She looks up to you so much, though I can't imagine why. You need to clean yourself up, Steve. For real this time. You can't go around doing whatever you want. It's disgusting and disrespectful. Did you even consider the people you'd hurt? How doing shit like that would affect the lives of people who care about you? They deserve better than that." She shakes her head. Arms crossed. Steve is tense in front of her, but he doesn't say anything. To her, that's as good as confession. "Everyone talks about how you've worked hard to improve yourself, become a better person. But after last night? I just don't believe it. No one who's really changed, really a good person, would do what you did." She sighs. "You should probably leave now."

Steve nods stiffly. "Right. I'll. Uh, I leave. Can you...please, don't tell anyone, ma'am. I'll Grab my bag and I'll get outta your hair, but don't tell. I'm so sorry. Please." She purses her lips. His girlfriend deserves to know, but Joyce has no clue who that is (it might be the Robin girl attached to his hip, but she has no way of knowing). She nods once. Steve's shoulders slump.

Stepping back into the house, Steve quickly and jerkily snags his backpack from the corner it was shoved into before leaning over to whisper something in Robin's ear. The girl nods, looking worried.

He doesn't look at Eddie.

For a while, her house is Steve-free. Joyce breathes easy, hoping their talk was a wake-up call for steve. He is painfully polite when they bump into each other, Robin usually by his side with a strained customer service smile. Small talk is non-existent.

But then Will starts getting quieter. Maybe avoiding her. Certainly does his best to be small and doesn't look in her eyes. She has no idea what's going on, and she's worried.

What if the Upside Down came back? What if there's something wrong with her boy? What if everything they've fought for and sacrificed didn't mean anything and it's never actually over?

She tries to talk to him, but he shrugs her off, says he's fine and not to worry about it. Assures her it is definitely not the Upside Down.

Finally, after two weeks of Will looking absolutely miserable when he talks to her, she gets Jonathan to try. Tension around the house is high, Steve is barely around and always skitters away when he sees her, and in combination with will, it's out everyone on edge.

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop. But she doesn't not mean to either. It's just that they're on the porch, and she was in the kitchen and heard something, and when she went to see, she heard them talking.

"it's not--i want to tell you but it's not my secret to tell."

Jonathan sighs. "Will. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Please. Talk to me. I'll love you no matter what, you know that."

Will heaves a breath. "I had a talk with Steve --" and oh, the rage in Joyce's chest when she hears that. What did he say to her boy?? "And...uhg. fuck. Okay, you have to swear, swear! You're not going to tell anyone what I'm going to tell you. If you figure it out, because I don't. It's not mine to tell."

"okay. I swear. I won't go spilling Steve's secrets."

"you have to mean it, Jonathan. It's dangerous!"

There's ruffling fabric. Jonathan's voice is softer. "I promise."

"Steve said he was telling me because he thought we might be...similar. In some ways. And he talked about who he's dating. And that Hopper and El and Robin and Eddie know. And that they're all safe. Y'know? Like you are."

"okay..."

"and I said you were, and he said that was really good, and then emphasized that if I ever wanted like, and actual grown up to talk to, not just another teenager, Hopper was safe. But. The way he said it made it seem like...I don't know, but something was off? And I asked him." There's a pause. "I asked him if Mom knew. And he said yes. But he hadn't... Before that, he hadn't said she was safe. Jonathan..."

Something...wasn't adding up. Joyce was trying to puzzle what she wouldn't be safe to talk to about. She'd been in the tunnels and Upside Down and through it all. Her children, and by extension the children that had helped save them, were always safe in her house. To come to her if they felt unsafe. Why Steve would tell her own son she wasn't --

Will continued. "Steve said that it'd probably be different because I'm her kid, y'know? She--she did all this stuff to get me back and to keep me safe and loves me. So she could. So she'd maybe change her mind. For me."

"Will..." Jonathan's voice sounds pained.

"but what if she's not? What if that's where it ends? Shell save me from a demogorgon but not love me for this. Steve's saved my friends half a dozen times, Jonathan! He got--he got tortured" that is not something Joyce knew. When the hell did that happen? "with Robin to protect Dustin and Erica, Billy beat him half to death when he stepped in to protect Lucas and Max! He's good! I'm not as close to him as the others but he still told me. He trusted me enough with a secret that I can't even say outloud about myself yet! And Mom still-" will hiccups, and Joyce wishes she knew what he was talking about. Wishes he was saying these things to her, so she could comfort him.

Heaving a breath, Will is quieter. "Steve's the reason no one's died. He's El's first brother. And she still called him disgusting for-- for kissing someone he loves."

Ice fills Joyce's veins, a heavy pit balls in her stomach. Because that's not--she didn't--it wasn't like that.

But Steve had begged her not to tell anyone. Had stood still and not tried to justify anything and called her ma'am when he asked her not to tell. Held himself still when she was around and bolted at the first possible opportunity, leaving disappointed people in his wake. Oh, shit. Oh, she's fucked up so badly. Hurt some kid because she was suspicious of him from over three years ago and assumed the worst. Instead of realizing that maybe the reason he and his girlfriend were keeping it quiet was because he didn't have a girlfriend at all, and that the boy he kissed that night was his boyfriend, she had just assumed he was cheating. And then she'd told him he was disappointing and disgusting and a bad influence on the kids. Even after, he still made sure Will knew there were safe people around, that he'd have someone to talk to. And all she'd done was make him scared of her.

"oh, buddy."

Will's voice is muffled, and Jonathan has probably pulled him into a hug. It cracks when he speaks. "how can she say that about Steve but still love me? When so much of this shit's been my fault?"

"none of this is your fault. Don't believe that, will. No one blames you or El for any of it. You know that, right?"

"okay..."

"it's true. And as for mom...I don't know." Jonathan huffs "I'm not sure. I'm sorry, buddy."

Joyce turns then, feeling sick. She shouldn't have eavesdropped on her children, but now she had she was going to make things right. Hopefully.

Ensure everyone, including Steve, knew she was safe.

Part 3

#joyce byers #will byers #steve Harrington #jonathan byers #steddie #stranger things #steve and el #is implied its more in the first bit #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #misunderstanding #implied homophobia #joyce doesn't like steve au #add the part 3/part 2.5 link two days later sorry pals

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aprocessionofthoughts · 7 months

Text

Sleepy Summons

whumptober23 day 29- scented candle fandom- dp x dc TW- none summary- Danny just wants to go to sleep

ao3 masterlist

Dick was kind of embarrassed. But at least everyone would be embarrassed with him. If they made it out alive.

Look, they had thought it was a simple cult, but apparently there was at least a little magic at play, because they had managed to capture not only Dick, but also Jason, Tim, and Damian.

Batman was supposed to be on his way, but he had been out of town so it might take him a while. Dick just hoped these cultists took their time with the summoning.

The cultists began to gather around the summon circle which had been lined with candles.

Well, it looked like they wouldn't be that lucky today.

The chanting started and the candles glowed brighter as the chal lines glowed green. Then suddenly a figure appeared in the center of the circle.

Dick stared for a second, unsure if he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

There was a boy, maybe between Damian and Tim’s age standing in the center of the circle.They had black hair and blue eyes, and were holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.

The boy blinked at the cultists around him and looked over at the tied up bats.

“Ummm….” The boy said.

Some of the cultists shifted and started muttering among themselves.

Then the boy sniffed the air. “Are those pumpkin spice scented candles?”

“They had a sale.” one of the cultists said.

“Shut up, Jerry.” the potential leader said.

“No, no. I like it.” said the boy. “But now I'm hungry for pumpkin pie.”

“Me too.”

“Shut up, Jim. We’re not making conversation with the foul demon.”

“Wos, okay. I didn't think I smelled that bad.”

“Shut up.” snarled the lead cultist.

The boy held his hands up, accidentally squeezing the toothpaste. He stared at his now toothpaste covered hand. “Look what you made me do.”

“It doesn’t matter.” the leader gritted his teeth. “I summoned you–”

“Actually, it wasn’t just you that summoned me.”

Dick could see the leader trembling with suppressed rage.

“As the leader of this group, I command you to obey my orders.”

“But, like, dit you get to be the leader through a cote or did you just appoint yourself.” the boy said, ignoring him.

“He kind of just appointed himself.” said one of the other cultists.

“Dud, that sucks. Are you guys really willing to put up with this?”

“Shut up!” the leader screeched.

“No, he’s right. I want to vote for our leader. What do you guys think?”

Several of the other cultists nodded.

“I vote for you, Freddie. All in favor?”

“Aye.” said everyone but the leader who was spluttering with anger.

“You can’t do that! I’m the leader! I gave you all the leader !”

“But we gathered all the ingredients and drew the circle!”

The boy spoke up again. “What do you guys even get out of this?”

There was silence for a moment.

“You know, I actually don’t really know. What about you Jerry?”

“No. What about you Linda?”

“I just thought we were going to get drunk or something.”

“Demon, I command you to be silent!” the leader said, looking like he’d finally had enough.

The boy glared at him. “First of all, I’m not a demon. Second of all, I don’t feel like being quiet. And third of all, I was finally going to get to sleep on time when you guys summoned me. So, I’m sure you’ll all understand that I'm a bit peeved. And lastly,” the boy stepped out of the summoning circle and the cultists scrambled back. “You were fools for thinking that you could control creatures from the other side of the veil. Most of them would kill you, but since I already showered and don’t feel like washing blood off of myself tonight, I’ll just leave you for the bats.”

The boy's eyes began to glow a bright blue and his hair moved in a nonexistent wind. Frost began to sweep from under his feet toward the cultists. Ice climbed up their legs and crept up until it completely covered them.

Then the boy turned toward them.

Dick swallowed. He hated the occult. He just hoped that whoever this was would leave them alone. He had said he’d leave the cultists for the bats, but still, you could never be certain with the occult. This being was probably not even human.

The boy stepped forward and Dick tensed as he reached out and touched Tim on the shoulder. The ropes holding him fell to the ground, and the boy repeated the process with all of them.

When Dick had removed the tape that covered his mouth he asked, “Who are you?”

“Look,” the boy had rolled his eyes, “I’m tired and I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you right now. If you want, you can just ask your sad trenchcoat man about the Infinite Realms, and also, tell him to stop selling his soul. It causes a lot of paperwork.”

With that, the boy disappeared.

------------------

Damnny groaned as he appeared back in his bathroom. He abandoned his toothbrush and toothpaste and rinsed off his hand, before heading to his room and collapsing on his bed.

He’d deal with all the problems that summoning caused tomorrow. Or next week. As long as Clockwork didn’t say anything, he could take his time.

#whumptober2023 #whumptober #no.29 #scented candles #Danny fenton #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cults #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc fanfic #summoning

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hybbart · 1 year

Text

Day 672: After pushing themselves a bit too far, both ranchers get simultaneously hit with a bad day...

Short story below

The ceiling fan spun at a meandering pace above, barely loud enough to hear and barely strong enough for the breeze to reach down. Jimmy watched it dully, the uneven sway of the lamp cord making it hard to focus on the blades’ rhythm. Or maybe it was how deep his breaths had become. He could feel it, how little his gasps pulled in, almost entirely supported by the tube forcefully pumping air through his nose. It felt as though his lungs had forgotten how to breathe despite how hard they tried.

It was a really bad day. They didn’t happen often – Jimmy could hardly remember one that had ever been quite this bad – but they didn’t have to. If he took his tubes out right now he would simply suffocate to death no matter how hard he tried. Part of his mind resigned to it, as if he would wake up every day after this way, completely irreversible. It was more like gas prices, he knew. It would get worse than it had ever been before going back down, but not quite as far down as it was before, just that little bit worse, creeping up like he wouldn’t notice. Not just the struggle to breathe, but the awareness.

Besides him Tango whimpered. For a brief moment instinct chased away his thoughts, replacing them with concern for his rancher who was rolling onto his side to curl up. He grasped at his shoulder in agony, and Jimmy’s heart was overwhelmed with the weight of guilt. It’d been him who had hacked off Tango’s limb with a fire axe, after all. Maybe if he’d held out just a little longer someone with more medical knowledge could have done it far cleaner or saved his arm. As it was now, Tango’s shocked nerves flared at a wound that had long since healed. It always ached, just a little bit. Today it was visibly swollen, and Tango himself agreed to take some of their precious little medication to ease it. A bad day.

His heart constricted painfully.

“Tango?” Jimmy whispered, as if the sound might hurt his companion. Tango struggled to roll over and look at him, eyes distant and teeth gritted. If he weren’t a blazeborn he’d be sweating, Jimmy was sure.

Careful not to disturb the pained limb or pull on his mask, Jimmy scooted closer. Revy whimpered where he lay between their legs, ears pinned. He could smell both their bad days, but there was nothing else that could be done about them.

Tango strained to put on a smile for Jimmy, but it was more of a grimace. “What’s up, buttercup?” He teased, voice nearly too raspy to understand.

Jimmy stared at him and let his face fall. “I don’t know.” He admitted. His own breath came in heavy puffs, unable to reconcile his muscles with the air being forced into his lungs. They couldn’t even hold each other for comfort.

“Pearl’s taking care of the animals and crops.” Assured Tango.

“And when she’s gone?”

“She won’t leave us before we’re back on our feet.”

“But what about next time?” He pressed, feeling his heartbeat pick up.

Tango’s face softened and turned full towards Jimmy despite his pain. “Jim, it’s okay. We just pushed ourselves a little too hard this month and it caught up with us. We’ll be more careful.”

“What’ll we do when just finishing the chores is too much?”

“That’s not something we have to worry about yet.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” Jimmy warbled, taking in a deeper breath. “It feels like we’re losing.”

“We aren’t losing.” Claws reached out to brush back Jimmy’s bangs which were damped with cold sweat. It continued past his ear, and repeated. Jimmy leaned into Tango’s hand, searching for any comfort he could attain. “We have each other, we’ll take care of each other.”

Jimmy frowned. “Except today.”

Those words finally seemed to give Tango pause. Jimmy took the opportunity to continue. “You’ve thought about it too. I can’t take care of myself if something happens to you. If any of my machines break down or the power goes out, or when it gets worse. I know I stopped breathing last night.” He paused to even his breathing. “And what’ll you do, if you can’t get out of bed and you’re all alone? If the pain gets worse and we’re out of medication?”

“Don’t talk like that.” Tango tried to sound firm, but Jimmy just shook his head.

“We’re out here pretending nothing is wrong, playing ranchers. There’s no ambulance if something happens, and they have as few supplies as the rest of us. We’re always fighting just to keep the power on to keep me alive. What’ll we do if a storm comes in the winter? We’d just waste away in our bed.”

There was a shuffling beside him – when had the world become so blurry? – and an arm wrapped its way across Jimmy’s shoulders. Instinctively his hand went up to cling to it. Tango’s forehead pressed into Jimmy’s shoulder. His breaths came out as shaky as Jimmy’s own, and immediately the avian wanted to apologize. Everything he said they already knew, there was no reason to let it all spill out. What was wrong with him?

But Tango pressed himself as close as he could through his pain. “Let’s think about it when we’re feeling better, okay?”

Jimmy knew what he was doing. They’d done it before. It won’t make a difference this time. His brain assured him. It’s just facts it doesn’t matter what mood we’re in if it’s facts. If we do it’s just because we forgot how bad it was. That’s why he can’t come up with a counter. Even while another part of his mind knew Tango was right. His miserable thoughts were sure they were true.

Silence fell across the room, filled only by the whirring of Jimmy’s machines and the distant clucking of chickens mixed with wild bird song. Light streamed through the windows, accompanied by a soft breeze. It was a shame it was such a nice day.

He could feel Tango relax against him, nudging his whole body just a bit closer until he was half-slumped onto the avian as he let his arm slip down to Jimmy’s ribs into a more comfortable hold. Jimmy let his head fall to the side, resting it atop Tango’s. Uneven heat radiated from the blazeborn still. He kicked himself for putting those thoughts in Tango’s mind too when, for once, it seemed like they hadn’t been.

“I’m sorry.” Whispered the avian. “I’m just scared.”

“I know.” Tango cooed. “I know, So’m I.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

But Tango shook his head. “We’ll think about it when we’re feeling better. We’ll talk to the others.”

“Okay.”

#tango tek #solidaritygaming #team rancher #rancher's revenge #rancher apocalypse au #fanart #biopunk #cottagecore #character #background #scene #writing #art #sketch #colour #Hybbart

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