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#at least i THINK that's the one the dog dies in??? i dunno
monty-glasses-roxy · 1 year
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Ooooh the Thing ask ABSOLUTELY reinforces the idea that if ANYTHING happens to a dog in a movie, Roxy is in tears. You have to pull up and article or behind the scenes stuff just to show her they're okay and it's all acting. Poor baby loves her pup brethren :((
Hsjxhdib I mean... She'd know it's just fiction... But also if anything happens to the doggos the behind the scenes dog stuff is a big comfort. She's pretending she's fine and she's not devastated the doggo got hurt but Chica is already putting some silly behind the scenes clips of the dog getting stuck in the door with a set piece or something lmao
Anyone that watches movies with her is very familiar with the 'does the dog die' websites and other such sites so they can check if it's Roxy Safe. They don't tell her they do this cause she's dead set on pretending it doesn't effect her at all even when she's literally sat there crying over it (she's trying very hard not to but she's failing miserably)
She and Monty will never admit to being scared of scary things ever. They will take this to their graves despite the fact everyone knows because they're terrible liars that can't hide their emotions for shit. For Roxy, this includes anything bad ever happening to a dog on screen.
They used to get teased a little for this, but it has long since been learned that if you poke them just right, they'll be determined to prove they can handle it and the next thing they know they're quietly freaking out clinging to their arm like this is the end of them. Now it's been deemed off limits in an effort to prevent them from putting themselves through it... But for some fucking reason they seem to think this rule doesn't apply to them. Idiots have been found hiding together in the most bizarre places because they were freaked out by a movie and they swear they heard something from over there you gotta believe them the killer is in there you can't go in oh god oh no fucking RUN-
But yeah... Don't watch a movie like I dunno Marley and Me with Roxy cause she will never ever be over it. Ever.
EDIT: YOU SAID REINFORCES WHOOPS
Yeah you're so right!! She sees that transformation and every single thing that happens to a dog in a movie afterwards hits so much harder. Sees a dog in a movie for a while after and immediately grills everyone present about what they're watching she is NOT doing this shit again lmao
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uranometrias · 4 months
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my love mine all mine , aaron hotchner
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this is incredibly self indulgent. i wrote this for myself, because my cat passed away today && i have no idea how to grieve correctly. but i've always been able to express myself the best through writing, so here i am trying to do so.
basically reader loses her kitten && hotch is there to comfort her while she grieves. reader is a doctor && gets her nails painted. mentions of sleeping in a scarf and braids (but this can apply to any race <3) hotch is pretty flirty. he also had a dog that died when he was younger (idk) ... i'm still getting used to writing him (but he's been rotting my brain) so hotch girlies please be sweet to me, i'm trying.
"Have you decided what you want me to grab on the way?" You feel giddy, eyes beaming vibrantly as you unlock your front door. Aaron was on the other line, he'd been looking forward to spending the evening with you for the past two weeks. Your jobs often sent you in separate directions, with him following cases cross country, and you spending nearly twenty hours a day working at Inova Fairfax Medical Campus. The commute was nearly an hour from Quantico, which made it difficult for your schedules to coincide the way you hoped.
Today though was an exception. He'd just gotten back from a case, a successful one, and you'd been lucky enough to finally get two days off. You couldn't contain your excitement when you'd finally managed to get Aaron on the phone, and with Jack staying at Jessica's for another night, it seemed everything was working out in your favor. You still had no idea what you were in the mood to eat, despite having ample time to figure it out. "I dunno." you mutter, and you drop your keys into the basket just to the left of the front door.
"Well honey, you've gotta give me something." Aaron chuckles, and his voices makes you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. "I'm sure you haven't anything at all today." and it doesn't take a rocket science to know he's absolutely correct. Your stomach grumbles audibly, and you cringe, the sound a dead giveaway of your poor eating habits. "Do you need a bit more time to think about it?" he asks, and you're nodding your head, despite the fact that he can't see you. Your focus is split, eyes darting around your place in search of Piper.
Piper was your five year old tabby, the most special companion that you'd cared for since she was a newborn. Usually she'd be making her way to your front door, nudging her head against your shins, meowing her head off as some form of reprimand for being gone too long. Her absence was unusual, but you'd noticed she'd been sleeping a touch longer in the recent months. You'd taken her to the vet and they'd written off any life threatening illnesses. Perhaps she was jus becoming a lazy cat they had said.
"What'd you eat yesterday?" you ask, and you shrug off your coat next, hanging it in the closet as you slip off your cork-leather clogs. You admire your pedicure, French-tips gleaming back at you as your feet hit the cherry laminate flooring. You imagined that he'd hardly been able to eat well while out on a case, Aaron (and his team) had a horrible habit of neglecting their own health and wellness for the sake of cracking the case. You'd call him out on it, but it'd feel to hypocritical with the way you gave most of your life to the hospital.
"Four cups of coffee." and he sounds sheepish as he replies, he'd been running himself ragged with this last particular case. He couldn't leave the precinct until he was convinced he'd made a dent in the investigation. He could imagine your disappointed pout, but he was doing his best, or at least trying his best. "But, Dave made sure that I got something this morning before we got on the jet." and it's not like he has to explain himself to you, you'd never berate him. He believed it was just a side effect of falling for you.
"Four cups?" you gasp, head already shaking. "You're going to turn into a cup of coffee if you keep up with habits like those." you scold. "You'll have to double your water intake, you could seriously dehydrate yourself that way." you say with a quiet huff. You round the corner of the foyer, heading for the kitchen. "Are you feeling alright?" your tone grows a bit softer, "Four cups means you were really absorbed in the case. Everything okay?" you tread lightly. You weren't quite sure how he felt about you asking about his job.
"As far as endings go, I'd say it was better than most." he replies thoughtfully, clearly unfazed by your desire to probe. That makes you smile a bit, the obviousness of his trust for you. "We minimized the amount of deaths, the unsub was taken into custody... the team worked really hard." he proceeds, and you find yourself grinning. "But, I will do a better job of taking care of myself. You'd be a good nurse, but I can imagine a few better scenarios for you to take care of me."
You smile despite the fact it makes your heart stutter step. You were still getting used to him growing more confident in this way, but you weren't complaining in the slightest. "I'd be a great nurse." you correct him delicately, "I'd enjoy taking care of you in any way though." and you bet he can hear your shyness through the phone. Your relationship with Aaron still felt fairly new, you'd been seeing one another for going on seven months, but you knew you loved him.
Even if you hadn't managed to say it just yet.
"Look at that, another thing we have in common." he exhales, and you want him to hurry up and get to you. You hadn't seen him in so long, and despite the fact you were willing to mount him on sight, you just wanted to enjoy being in the same place for once. "How are you? Did you have a good day?" and you like the way he's so attentive, how he seems to genuinely care about what you had to say.
"It was great." you insist, and you've poured yourself a glass of water, ice tinkling as you scanned the dining room for any sign of Piper. Still nothing, weird. "I went to the bookstore a bit earlier, got a few novels for my book shelf." you list. "I got my nails done, and I got a facial. It was so relaxing I wound up falling asleep on the table." and you chuckle a bit at the memory. "Piper and I went on a drive before lunch, she's so spoiled." you add, but you're still scouring the space.
"Drafted up my budget for the month, my new schedule came in," you exhale tiredly at the thought. "Picked up my scrubs from the dry cleaners, I did a grocery run, and went to see the flower exhibit near the Farmer's Market. I got this really incredible soft-pretzel croissant." you sigh dreamily at the memory. "And now I'm home, and waiting for you." you complete, and you lean forward, arms resting against the countertop. "It was a really nice day. I thought I wouldn't know what to do without work, but I'd nearly forgotten what it feels like to be off."
Aaron's silent, but not because he's disinterested in your ramblings. He finds them endearing, and oftentimes had to remind himself that you, much like Jack, needed verbal response in order to feel heard. "I missed you." and it's not quite what he was aiming to say, but it's what comes out. It's true, it had been a while since he'd seen you in person, and with the way your schedules overlapped, he'd hardly been able to get much conversation out of you apart from quick check-ins in between patients and breaks in BAU cases.
You let out a quiet puff of air, it's not quite a sigh nor an exhale. Your lips curve upwards, and you wonder if there's a record out there for most smiles achieved in a single phone call. "You've got no idea how happy that makes me." you reply, and you inhale deep. "I missed you too, hurry up and get over here." you press, and you replay the sound of his responding laugh over in your mind. You don't think you could be more lovesick, but it's a more than welcomed feeling. "As far as dinner, why don't I just cook something?" you offer with a shrug.
"Do you want to?" and Aaron's got this weird thing about him where he's still getting used to the fact that you want to do certain things for him. You go over it a lot, reminding him that you'd love nothing more than to spoil him as much as he spoils you. He's still a bit hesitant, but you don't mind fighting the good fight until he relented. His hands tighten just slightly on the steering wheel, and his leg jumps as he awaits your response. He knows, or better put, he has an idea of what you'll say. He still wants to hear it either way.
"We take care of each other, mon amour." You coo, and he feels that familiar rush of affection towards you. "It'll be fun." you add, and then you're sighing audibly. "I just really can't wait to see you. I don't want to wait any longer than I need to." you express, and Aaron understands. He'd been restless on the jet, Dave and Emily seemed to zero in on his jitters, he was thankful they had enough couth to keep it to themselves. All he received was a knowing smirk from Rossi as he made a beeline for the tarmac the second the jet landed.
"I'll be there soon." he promises, and you grow giddier. "I-" and he wants to cross the line, mutter three worded phrase that would change everything. He'd been learning to be more bold, to focus on the things he could control, and appreciate those things. "I love you." he doesn't have time to think about the repercussions, because it's out, and there's a strong sense of relief that washes over him. You are surprised, but elated. The excitement his words bring you is hard to diminish.
"I love you too." and it comes out as easy as breathing. Probably because you mean it with all of your heart. "I'll see you soon, Mr. Hotchner." you promise, and he's chuckling at your sudden formality, likely a side effect of your newfound nerves at the huge step you'd both taken in your relationship.
"See you soon." you don't bring the phone from your ear until you hear the faint click of the call ending. You exhale shakily, mind running at a mile a minute as your heart seems to double in size. Still, you find this moment is short lived- mind once again on the eerie silence in your apartment. You place your glass down on the counter, coaster be damned as you make your way past the dining room and towards the living room. Sometimes you'd find Piper curled up on the couch, quiet purrs escaping her as she slept contently.
"Piper!" you coo, surprised when you note that she's nowhere to be found. You know that she wasn't outside, you'd made sure before leaving back out that she was comfortable in the house. You follow the layout of your place, the archway that led from the living room back to the foyer is the route you take, heading towards your bedroom as you continuously call for the cat. "Piper, where are you, pretty girl?" you enter your room, hopeful that you'll find her there.
You spot her little paw peeking out of her hideaway and instantly relax. "Oh Piper, you scared me." you let out a shaky sort of giggle as you fully enter your bedroom, feet brushing over the comforting carpet. You kneel just in front of the hideaway, reaching out to pet her. It takes you a few moments to make peace with the fact that she's not rousing. You swallow thickly, a lump growing in your throat as you wiggle her paw. She doesn't move, just as limp as before.
"Piper?" you feel the way your throat constricts, eyes immediately wanting to brim with tears, as you grow frantic. "Oh, please no-" you exclaim, head shaking as you feel a shudder rack through you. You're gentle as you maneuver around the hideaway, hands looping around her small body as you move to pull her out. She's limp, not even the act of you lifting her up enough to make her move. Your glow feels like it's diminished almost instantly, a dark cloud setting in over your head. It seemed a bit silly, panicked over the loss of a cat.
But she was yours, like a daughter to you in the way you cared for her, and made her apart of your routine. She was special, and despite the reputation cats gained for being standoffish and unable to understand human love, you knew that to be wrong. Piper was sweet, a loving cat that curled up beside you every night and followed you like a second shadow. She'd play games of tag with you, chasing you around your apartment as you squealed and screamed for your life.
"Please, please, no-" you're shedding real tears now, they're slipping down your cheeks in a constant succession. "Piper, please wake up!" it's silly, probably. Rocking back and forth with a dead cat in your hand hoping that sheer adoration will be enough to turn back the hands of time. It's certainly not, and the reality crushes you. The first sob is choked, almost like you're holding yourself back, not letting your feelings take full affect. You hadn't prepared yourself at all.
You didn't know what to do.
You think that's when the first swell of sobs begins. They're more ugly wails than anything else, the loud sound echoing through the space in front of you as your arms lower, Piper's body leaning against you as you continued to let your tears flow freely. Your chest tightens, constricting every couple of seconds like you'd suddenly developed chronic heartburn. The pain is a violent assassin, the air around you feeling tight. You think you may be choking on all that you're feeling.
You hate the part of your brain that was constantly in 'Doctor Mode', the side that reminded you that despite your grief, handling a deceased animal like this was a surefire way to get sick. Her body wouldn't start to decompose for at least another day, but you had no real way of knowing just how long she'd actually been dead. You don't move though, until at least your sobs have waned, you know it's not the end of them, but it's a reprieve just for a moment.
You slowly climb to your feet, still clutching Piper as your eyes whip around your bedroom. Your eyes land on her carrier, and the image makes you want to cry all over again. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to take in a deep breath. It doesn't help. Still, your feet lead you over to the carrier, where you're gently placing Piper. Her vet was only eight minutes up the street, and maybe your ability to dispose of her so quickly was precisely why this was happening to you.
Guilt was loud, too loud. It almost knocked you to your knees as you imagined Piper's fear whilst you were gone. Was she sick? How long had she been? Why hadn't you noticed? Why did you leave her alone? Why weren't you there? You let her down. You had let her down.
You want to curl into a ball, hide under the blankets and cry until you passed out. But, she deserved better. She deserved to not be lugged around like she was some prop, she needed a proper place to rest. Once her carrier is zipped up, you're picking it up by the handles, using your other hand to swipe at the tears still trying to fall. You take the route you'd walked not ten minutes prior, slipping your shoes back on, and grabbing hold of your keys. Aaron still had another forty minutes or so in his drive, you hoped it went by quickly.
You don't think you ever needed him more than now.
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The sobs returned the second you'd walked past the threshold of your house. You sluggishly made your way back to your bedroom. It felt much lonelier now, the house feeling much too big for just you. You think that makes you cry even harder. You're covering your mouth with your hand, hoping that it would be enough to mask the sound of your bawling. You doubt that it does, but you can't do much else. You don't want to go to sleep, you don't want to do anything.
You begin berating your behavior once more in your head, replaying all the ways you'd been a shitty caretaker even though you know it's a bad idea. Your leg shakes under your comforter, the blanket squished underneath your body as you hid your face beneath the blazing heat of your huge blanket. You don't even realize how long you've spent in this space of self-loathing and bitter tears, until you hear the front door's lock shifting out of place. Aaron was here.
"Y/N, sweetheart?" and you want to run to him more than anything. You can't though, because you don't want him to think you're a failure. So you stay put, and you cry a bit more, sniffles growing more audible as you're forced to choke back angry sobs. It doesn't take long for him to make his way towards where you are, and you don't know what he'll say when he finds you looking a mess. You know your mascara has given you racoon eyes, and in your grief, you'd failed to tie a scarf around your head. Your braids would look messy soon.
"Y/N?" and his voice is so soft, soothing, everything you don't deserve now. Your hand clutches a fistful of your shirt, right where your heart rests. "Are you in here, honey?" and you sniffle, an answer all on its own. You barely hear his footsteps, but you feel it when the bed dips just slightly, and you feel it when he gently pulls at your blanket. When he's pulled it back, he's met with the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks. Your nose was runny and raw, and your lip was quivering. It didn't take a profiler to know that you'd been crying, and he frowns.
"Are you alright?" he questions, and his hand reaches out to brush against your cheek and neck, almost like he was checking your temperature. "You've been crying?" and he examines you subtly for any signs of assault or struggle. "Did something happen?" and he knows he keeps asking questions, but he's getting worried.
"P-" and a sob racks through you, your entire body curling in on itself. Your hand is pressing against your mouth again, and your shoulders shake as you began to cry once more. "Piper she-" and your head shakes, hand clenching and unclenching against your shirt. Aaron's eyes dance around your room, and his eyebrows push inwards. He was worried, but determined to be extremely delicate with you, namely by being patient as you got out what you needed to tell him. "Piper's dead." you finally say, shoulders sagging as you weep.
Aaron's examining your face, which gives you a front row seat of the way his face is eclipsed with compassion. "Oh, honey..." his lips pull downwards into a frown, and you know, of course you know it's awkward. What do you realistically say to a person that loses their cat? It's not like any amount of conversation would bring her back. "I'm so sorry...." and usually it sounds empty when anyone offers condolences, but like with most things, Aaron is an exception. "Are you okay? Can you tell me what happened?" he pleads.
And you know that he knows that you're not okay. It's meant to be a stupid question, the obvious one. But you also know that he's giving you the chance to vent, to articulate everything you feel with no judgement. It makes you want to curl into him, and stay wrapped up in his arms until neither of you had any idea where one ended and the other began. "I just-" you have to take a moment to gather yourself, hiccupping blubbers escaping you. "I came home, and I-" your voice cracks harshly. "She was just gone. I don't-" you shake your head.
"I don't know what happened." you express, and Aaron's sympathetic, and he hates seeing you like this. Every time you cry it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand upright. He supposed that came with loving you, an innate desire to protect you, and keep the bad things out. He'd only ever seen you in this state a handful of times, mostly when things went wrong at the hospital and you lost a patient. He had to get to you before you started blaming yourself for something that completely out of your control.
He didn't know much, but he did know your love for Piper, and how deep it ran. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that you'd never do something to put her in harm's way, you'd never do anything to hurt her. And he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you everything will be alright, he wants to be there to anchor you down. To ground you in the midst of all these swimming and overwhelming emotions trying to fight for the upper hand. He wanted to be there for you.
"Is there anything that you need from me?" he asks gently, grief was harsh, it came in ripples and waves. It was gut-punching, it could be loud and then silent. Sneaky and then outright. It was a process, and whether anyone else thought so, if you needed to grieve the life of your pet, you should. Who was he to ever get in the way? He's gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek, your tears splattering as you kept the duvet pulled up to your chin, as you stared him down. He figured you must have been deep in thought.
It takes a moment for you to reply, and he's fine with the silence. You're tears haven't stopped, but they've grown more quiet. Silent tears that pool and trickle down his wrist and onto the blanket. You soon take in a shaky puff of air as you sit up. Aaron's patient as ever, watching as you pull your legs from underneath the blanket, crawling until you were sitting on his lap. There's no sexual undertone to your movements, you don't want to fool around, you just want to be close.
Your head rests against him, eyes closing as his arms envelop you. "Can you just stay with me?" you ask, and he's already nodding his head. You both knew it was an impossible request. At any moment you could get paged, or he could get a call about a new case. The world didn't stop all because you were grieving, but for one second you both could pretend. He could stay right here with you, and you could love him, and not feel so overwhelmed by all your sadness.
"I'm not going anywhere." he mutters, and he's reaching for your hand. His easily dwarfs your own, but it's still just as comfortable, letting your palms press against his own. "I have never lost a cat before-" and he's treading lightly, wanting more than anything to help you and not harm you. "But I did lose a pet when I was younger." he expresses, and your interest is peaked, just slightly.
"What type of pet?" you ask faintly, and you're squeezing his hand in your own. He knows that it's comforting you so he says nothing about the tight pinch of his fingers pressing together.
"He was a golden retriever actually." Aaron replies, "Nothing was particularly wrong with him. He was fed well, taken care of, treated like one of the family..." he proceeds, and you involuntarily hold your breath as you listen. "But one day he just... he just went." Hotch proceeds, "And when you're a little kid that's not in the best environment, a staple like a pet dog is important. Losing him was like losing the only bit of sanity I could cling to. Does that make sense?"
Your head nods, and you squeeze his hand again to show him you care. "And surprisingly enough, I found myself crying over it. Mourning this dog, an animal that was part of the family, but of course, was not my family member." he continues, and his chin rests on the top of your head. "The point is, him being a dog didn't make it hurt any less when he left. It's okay to be upset about Piper, she was important to you, special even." he whispers. "And you did a great job giving her all the love you possibly could." his eyes close then.
"I need you to know that it wasn't your fault. And keeping yourself up with thoughts of 'what ifs'." it's his turn to squeeze your hand this time. "And those moments where you... didn't want to play, or wanted to be left alone are not what she remembered when she passed on." he insists, and he won't take any arguments on the matter. "You gave her five amazing years, and whether science backs it up or not, she knew how much you loved her." he insists. "You might not believe it today, but I hope that you do in time." and he kisses your forehead.
It's butterfly inducing, and makes you cling all the more to him. "You're not by yourself." he adds, and you're glad to know it. You peel back, eyes locking with his, and they're glassy. You hate seeing such a grief-stricken look on his face, at your sake no less. It makes you lean forward and kiss him, in the hopes you'd manage to kiss it away. He kisses back instantly, and you're still sad, you probably will be for a long while, but you don't feel as lonely as you did an hour ago.
"I love you." you mumble the second you've pulled back, and this time there's no phone. His eyes are swirling with so many thoughts and feelings of his own, but you need him to know you mean it, and likely always will. You couldn't imagine anyone else being here with you like this now, nobody else that would care enough to grieve with you. He gives you a half smile, and kisses you once more, a much deeper kiss that makes you lightheaded and dizzy. Of course he had that effect.
"I love you too." and you're happy that he hasn't left you hanging. Your fingers trace his collarbones and cheeks, moving to cup his face with your right hand. You kiss him again, this time just long enough to get the message across. When you pull back, your head is finding it's place back on his chest, and his arms move up and down, rubbing gentle circles against your back, as he cranes his neck to kiss your head. It makes your stomach flutter, but it makes you want to cry too.
He leaves three gentle pecks on the top of your head, moving to kiss your cheek, before he's looping his arms around your waist with a palpable amount of admiration. He plants a sweet kiss on your shoulder, and mimic this action by offering him a kiss of your own. "Thank you." you exhale, and you mean it so wholeheartedly.
"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. We take care of each other, mon amour, remember?" and he recites your earlier words back to you. It makes you cling to him much tighter, tears returning to your lashline as Aaron pulls you even closer to him. "If you need to cry a little bit more, go right ahead. I'm right here." so you do.
Grief was a lot, it could be paralyzing, debilitating, and outright traumatic, but you knew even if it didn't feel that way now, in time you'd be okay. Part of you felt like you had Aaron to thank for that.
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catastrophicalcat · 3 months
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Catwoman's Love Interests, Ranked
No. 1. Batman. Predictable? Perhaps. Correct choice? Absolutely. They work purrfectly together. I may roll around to write a similar post for Bruce, but from Selina's perspective, he is an equal to her, values her independence, and helps her believe in herself.
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(From the double date in Batman (2016) # 37, where Lois is wearing Selina's outfit)
No. 2-10. Selina herself. She is independent! But seriously, one of the things I loved the most from her 90s run was how not romance-focused she was! It was a lot of fun and refreshing to see female main character just not give a fuuuuck about romance.
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(Look at her, just slapping this creep away as a squirrel laughs at him! From Catwoman (1993) #30).
No. 11. Christopher Castillo "Blondie". From Selina's adventures in Rome, the Blond was enamoured, charming, and helpful. Also, it wasn't clear if the attraction was truly reciprocal, or if Selina just got a fun vacation boy toy.
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(Catwoman, When in Rome #6)
No. 12 Dean Hadley. I am not sure he really qualifies as a love interest, since I don't think that Selina was into him, but at least he died heroically trying to protect her.
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(Can't compete with Batman, dies tragically, from Catwoman (2018) # 34)
No. 13 to 20. Selina on her own some more! Can't get enough of this girl on her own! Love the storyline where she unknowingly has a crush on a serial killer in a dog mask. You know what she did when she found out the truth about her crush? That's right, clawed the shit out of him!
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(Catwoman (1993) #53. I think this storyline counts as her loving herself than being into this guy - she barely had any qualms about dumping him once she found out; none of that "but maybe I can fix him" for this cat!)
No. 21. The Riddler. Shocking choice, I know! But I'm thinking here of the Lonely City version - Batman is dead, time has passed, he made amends, they found each other. Doesn't work in other continuities, was fun here.
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(Catwoman: Lonely City #3. The reveal that Eddie was a coke addict makes SO.MUCH.SENSE).
No. 22. James Thien. I guess he was fine. I didn't like it because her interest into him was really jarring - this was during the post-wedding break-up period when Selina was generally falling apart. But James was neither fish nor fowl. There wasn't enough development for her to be genuinely interested in him, and her interest was portrayed more like genuine interest than a random hook-up.
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(Literally, I think that this is all the development there is! And then I don't remember what happened to him. Maybe he also died? That kind of seems to happen to her love interests a lot. Catwoman (2018) #12)
Nos. 22-90. Selina on her own some more! And Eiko. And others. Never enough of Selina being on her own! I also think that Eiko goes somewhere here probably, if not in my earlier "Selina on her own spot" - I just haven't read the New 52 run so I dunno. Other possible contenders in this range:
Onyx (but I don't think they had enough development)
The Trickster (Reddit tells me he's a Catwoman love interest but I don't remember it so it must have been neither good nor bad)
Spark (also new 52, so I dunno).
OK, this is where we get to bottom of the barrel, where unfortunately most other folks are. BTW, what's up with Selina having so many relationships with older mentor figures?
No. 91. Frank Baz. Some mafioso with whom Selina was hanging out in Italy. Ranked so low since he seems like a bad guy, there was a big age difference with her being really young, and he didn't do that much.
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No. 91. Slam Bradley Sr. I think that Brubaker did a decent job making the romance between Selina and Slam Sr. work. I like how the run addressed how messy this relationship was, and how Slam was kind of preying on Selina's vulnerable emotional state. (Slam shouldn't have won that argument, but at least it was raised!) But unfortunately this is ranked so low since Slam becomes kind of a chump later on in the run and Selina's relationship with his son makes this very creepy.
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(From Catwoman (2001) #17. Their relationship was actually pretty good in the beginning, but quickly got icky...)
No. 92. Wildcat/Ted Grant. I really like the backstory of Selina learning boxing from Wildcat. It's a sweet little bit setting up her eventual super-heroics, plus, Wildcat is awesome! He's a grumpy old man who is respected by everyone, even Batman (whom he also trained). Which is why I hated when Wildcat/Catwoman wrote her to have a crush on him. Gross! Did I mention that he's old?
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(Catwoman/Wildcat #3. The art in this book is really 90s)
No. 92. Slam Bradley Jr. I totally get that hot people in costumes would have one night stands on rooftops after adrenaline rush situations. And the poor guy died right after sleeping with Selina! Nonetheless, ranked so low because it's sooo weird since she slept with his dad - which I think he knew - plus I'm pretty sure that their relationship started really antagonistic. Principles before hoes, bro! Also, not his fault but I don't like how he messed up Helena's paternity story some more.
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(Catwoman (2001) #61. No idea why Selina tells the dad the story about how she banged his son?)
No. 93. Cat cult person who kidnapped Selina, dressed her up as princess Leia, and tried to marry her. Forgot this dude's name. Considering the stuff he did, he was a pretty nice dude. But - the stuff he did is pretty despicable!
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(Catwoman #31. I really hated this storyline, so I feel like he should be lower, but I also really hated Stark and Valmont, so where can it go? Also not sure that kidnapping and forced marriage qualifies as a "love interest"; may rethink including him altogether but I also wanted to emphasize how much I don't like Stark or Valmont).
No. 94. Stark. Criminal who took Selina under his wing when she was still an underage sex worker, and slept with her. He's also a murderer. Pretty gross person overall, really creepy relationship.
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(Selina's Big Score)
No. 95. Valmont. I really hate Valmont, OK? I wrote a whole giant post already about how much I hate him!
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littleliterarylesbian · 8 months
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Dear James - 3
| part 1 part 2
(cw for: accidental misgendering, prob the last part that will include this)
Hatred fills every part of him for almost no reason most times. He looks at James, his best friend in the whole world, and sees the last person who saw his sister alive. The person who she reached out to before she died and he didn't respond. And Sirius hates that. Hates him.
Sirius looks at Moony, the love of his life, and can't help the rage that bubbles up in him and he has no idea why. Maybe it's because Sirius doesn't understand how someone can love him after everything he's done, the words he's said, maybe it's because Remus was simply just a friend of hers once upon a time ago.
Sirius just hates Peter in general. How dare that man breathe in this universe after what he's done, after the friends he's killed. Sirius and Peter used to be close, but now every time Sirius sees him, in the newspaper, in old pictures of them, he wants to claw Peter's eyes out before shoving them so far up his arse they reach his intestines.
Sirius doesn't say anything though, he keeps it bottled up, it's better this way. He only unscrews the cap slightly with Remus, during sex mainly, when he can claw and scratch and bite without worry.
He doesn't tell anyone of the dreams, the dreams of a little boy with his sisters eyes and sharp angles and James' hair and smile, a boy that grows up happy and loved.
Sirius still remembers how the face became prominent in his dreams.
Sirius and Remus got into a row again, Sirius stomping out of the flat with harsh words and a 'don't wait up.'
He huffed down the street and does what he does every time he storms out. He stops at the local park. Sitting on a bench and watching children play, like he does so often; too often.
Sirius had always wished that he could be here with another purpose for once, maybe if his sister were still alive he would be here as an uncle, watching a little sprong run around with a big smile and a loud laugh.
He was lost in his day dreams when a body slammed into his leg.
Sirius blinked in shock when small arms wound around him and a small voice, one that clearly has a smile, spoke and Sirius was rendered speechless as he looked down. Dark skin and messy brown hair.
"Papa!" The little voice was French, or at least had a slight accent and Sirius' heart squeezed, "You're back early! How did you-" The little body looked up finally and froze.
Sirius' breath left him. Those eyes were so similar, eyes that Sirius had always hoped to see again.
The boy stepped away with a small frown, one that looked so cute with the baby fat on his face, round cheeks that made Sirius just want the small boy to continue hugging his legs because he wanted to bottle up those eyes, those familiar features, forever.
"You're not Papa." When the boy furrowed his eyebrows in an act that so reminiscent of the dead he once cared for so much he felt like screaming.
He tried to keep it together.
"Who is your Papa?" Sirius asked, and he pretended that his voice didn't crack. The boy didn't notice, or if he did he didn't say anything.
Instead, the boy squinted at him, tilting his head like a dog, like James, "I dunno if I should tell you." the boy said, "Papa isn't very pop-u-lar."
Sirius still couldn't stop looking. Looking at the grey eyes that seemed a bit too big for his face, and the baby fat covering what seemed to be pointed features, and messy hair in a familiar dark brown, and dark skin that seemed to be only slightly lighter then James'. Though it was a cloudy day, so what did Sirius know. It could all just be his mind, playing dirty tricks on him like it always does.
But Sirius still forced a smile, he thinks he was too shocked- haunted maybe- to cry.
"That's alright." Sirius shrugged, "I'm not too popular either."
The boy shook his head, "I dunno. Papa doesn't want strangers to know."
Sirius felt like his skin was crawling. An itch he couldn't escape, because now he has to know.
"How about I tell you my name, then you tell me yours. Then we won't be strangers."
The boy thought about it, but clearly didn't see a problem with Sirius' logic when he puffed up his cheeks and nodded.
"My name is Harry"
Sirius smiled, it was wobbly and his face felt heavy, but now he had a name to attach to the boy's face, a face that he knew he will use in daydreams and sleepless nights.
Sirius is aware of how weird that sounds.
"My name is Sirius."
He watched as the boy's toothy smile turned into a frown, Sirius watched as the boy looked him over before Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back.
Sirius watched as the boy looked to the sidewalk, almost in fear, and Sirius doesn't know what he did wrong.
Harry looked back, "Oh, um, I-" His eyes flicked back to the sidewalk and he cut himself off, eyes widening further and Sirius couldn't look away when the smile bloomed on Harry's face again. The boy started to run away, vaguely shouting back an apology. Sirius was sure he was already forgotten in the boy's mind.
Sirius watched him go. He watched as the small body slammed into a short man, he watched as the man looked down before he leaned down and picked the boy up.
Sirius was too far away to see the man properly, and even if he moved closer all he would see was a vague side profile, but he couldn't help but watch.
Sirius still couldn't be sure as he walked a few steps forward anyway, but the nose looked similar. Like the one he saw every day in the mirror, like the one he saw in memories.
Sirius watched the man walk away with Harry and he felt crushed. Like something was taken from him with no reason for why.
He went home to Remus that day stumbling through the door, alcohol on his breath, and holding back tears.
James looks similar now, as he trips out of the floo, clutching a now wrinkled letter in his hand.
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junebugtwin · 1 year
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okay actually i need to ramble about taylor and her dad for like a bit cus its sooo much.
like okay listen listen listen: Danny wakes up early and he cooks breakfast maybe and then he goes to work and he does his job- and he's great at his job, in any world but this one, in any other brockton bay, he'd be able to afford to take taylor out of winslow or fix their broken step- maybe get her her like a dog or something (which btw would fix her) and y'know pay the bills and shit. but he can't in this universe because in this universe kaiju attack every 2 seconds and one specifically doesn't like people existing on coasts and like he's a dockworker or whatever so! so. so he works all day tirelessly just to not get his crew jobs or better pay because no one is going to sponsor the people working on a non-existent dock like its literally a graveyard! who would pay for this when there's an actual dragon man running around the city burning buildings down and an entire neo-nazi contingent of super-cunts nobody is going to do that. But this is his life. And he's stubborn and things had been better before so maybe they can be good again and he hates change and he doesn't want to have it all been for nothing and this is what he does. So he gives it his all. He stays late and he really only hangs out with his coworkers and he does have to pay the bills so its not like anyone could blame him. So he slams his head into the brick wall hoping it will break before his skull will and he misses so fucking much of what is going on in his daughters life! but it goes by so quickly, too quickly and by the time he's begun to figure out just how deeply and irrecoverably she's changed its way too late to just swing back in like nothing happened. He can't actually! They've both closed themselves off totally, her even farther than he has. but they're both stubborn, so stubborn and they think that if they can just hold on a little longer then things will be okay because things have to be okay because this can't be the rest of their lives! And Taylor really is her fathers daughter because she sees the way he bloodies his head on that wall and says fuck it all do you one better: this brick wall is going to break or i am! and if i do then i won't be around to care about it! And she's skipping class and spending nights somewhere else, sneaking out and of course he knows about it- of course he knows! What is he going to do though? confront her? and then what? what justification could he possibly have for that? to demand answers from her when she should be the one demanding them from him? he let her go back to the same school that nearly killed her! he let her drown without him when his wife died- didn't notice when emma broke her heart, didn't notice when she stopped loving english class or trusting adults or speaking without thinking 'stupid!' at herself reflexively. or worse- he did notice and chose not to do anything out of cowardice and habit and procrastinating guilt- like his daughters mental health was homework he hasn't handed in. But they both feel better, when they don't have to talk about it- and there's nothing morally wrong with skipping school or dropping out entirely but taylor used to like school but having an actual conversation with her about what exactly is happening in her life is something he takes half a zillion words to work up to and by the time he actually does he has to lock them in a goddamn room together- not because it's a good idea- if he knew more about taylor he'd know its a surefire way to freak her out- but because that's what he needs to talk to her.
and it just...deflates. she leaves and drops out of school and doesn't really talk to him again until brockton bay is like halfway underwater. there's no catharsis with him finding out she's Skitter, its not satisfying, not even in an angsty way- 'luke i am your father' -at least that's properly dramatic! It's just sort of an. oh. okay. fuck.
i dunno. this wasn't going anywhere. i just...man. they'd both kill for each other, i am confident in that much, but both seem to struggle pretty hard with the 'living for each other' part.
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prospitsdream · 5 months
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urghhthinking of well?? guardianswap but not really since no guardians are actually swapped.
pretty much a role/personality? swap of some sort.
june’s dad would be the one preparing her for the apocalypse in weird ways. pranks gone wrong, the Proud of You Son notes are kinda tinged in a sadness. i dunno how else to describe this. maybe he was warned by nanna who got informed. she would complain as if this is Normal Pranking but its not girlget out.
rose’s mom died, leaving her in the woods with firstguardian jaspers and a whole lab to explore (aka MAD SCIENTIST ROSE MAD SCIENTIST ROSE). i think this would make her much more paranoid… and maybe looking for guidance from a specific white orbhead guy. yikes. im sure this will have no repercussions at all.
dave gets bro.. who DOESN’T do All Of That? still emotionally neglectful but more of a stereotypical brother instead of setting all of that up. the traps are still there but no fireworks its just puppets. still a douche. hes… slightly more chill i guess.
jade gets an ALIVE GRANDPA?!?!?! but hes neglectful like he was with his other kids. bec isnt a first guardian anymore, but a normal dog. grandpa is off trying to get more involved w shit for the game while also missing crucial pieces by accidentally settint jade to the side. jade goes “grandpa today i dreamed i was on a yellow planey and i saw you in the clouds dead” and grandpa goes “Thats nice dear let me finish on the phone now”.
and lord . the alpha kids
jane and jake are the ones being sent into the future, with jane’s setup initially being provided by famous comedian john crocker w/ help from crockdad while jake has a very hightech place set up by Grandma :) im sure growing up isolated will allow these people to grow up normally with no repercussions. (well we saw how it affected one but u know what i mean)
roxy was growing up in the woods with her mom until batterwitch assassination moment. YIKES. out of isolation she clones a bunch of cats and idolizes her mom way too much. also again, paranoid to the max now.
dirks bro is. well hes raising dirk at least that counts for something. periods of no contact with the guy since hes doing shit to periods of massive doting really warp a guys perspective on affection. who wouldve thought.
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wraithsoutlaws · 2 months
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.
spent over 6 hours at the hospital today with family as my aunt was pulled off life support and its just. bizarre the suddenness of it all. she had heart surgery a couple months ago and they found she also had stage 3 lung cancer but she died of a totally unrelated infection that went septic, they still don't know where it came from or how it was caused and its hard to grasp it I guess. My core family has all lived on the same large property pretty much my whole life, so we've always been pretty close. we go on road trips and camping trips every year. she hosts all the holidays for the family and we cram into her little house and eat some delicious meal she cooked. I hate knowing that her last conscious moments were fear and pain. I know despite all her recent health issues she never considered death as a tangible possibility which is almost irresponsible because she left so much more work for everyone to figure out but I think it underlines the fear she had of it and it just feels really tragic.
i know her one stated wish was that her dog gets euthanized and his ashes are buried with her, so that's another tragic thing that has to be done. for the record the dog is also riddled with health problems and tumors (he was given 'a couple months to live' 2 years ago so he's managed to hang on but he has next to no quality of life and can hardly walk, i think he'd really suffer living without her). i dunno the whole thing is just so sad.
im okay, I'm just kinda at a loss, its gonna be so strange without her. She had a lot of complications after her heart surgery (her wound re-opened and she was struggling a lot with that), so at least she's not suffering anymore
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ddejavvu · 2 years
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Broken Pieces - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 1)
WC: 4.4k / navi / preview / request
Summary: Eddie isn't expecting to find you, his best friend, sobbing on the steps of his trailer asking to buy weed. You have a strict no drugs policy, so he knows something's wrong. He finds out you've broken up with Steve, and he's determined to turn the situation into one that will mend both of your broken pieces.
Contents/Warnings: past relationship with steve, i totally used his past with nancy here as the plot i am so sorry queen, best friend!eddie, best friends to lovers (eventually), mild threatening, angst, mentions of drugs
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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The last thing Eddie expects to see when he opens the door is you. Much less the tears streaking down your cheeks, the wobble of your chin, and the shoulder of your shirt falling off of your shoulder. You’ve been to his trailer before, of course, on a monthly movie night rotation between here, Nancy’s house, Robin’s garage, and Steve’s place.
Speaking of Steve, Eddie’s not quite sure why you’re not with him. After dating for seven months, you’re practically inseparable, stuck to the man’s side with something stronger than super glue.
Now you look weak, alone, and frail.
“Hi.” You croak, and the sound is so sad that Eddie actually feels his heart drop.
“Hi,” He shifts on his feet, millions of questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, “What’s’a matter, kicks?”
Eddie glances to your feet at the familiar nickname, seeing, not the infamous pair of sneakers that inspired it, but a beat-up pair of foam flip-flops. 
“I want weed.” You state, like you’re asking for a pony for your birthday. Eddie’s eyes meet the $20 in your hands that’s being shoved unceremoniously towards him, “Uh, please.”
“Come in.” He finally steps aside after a quick deliberation, glancing at Wayne who’s still snoozing on the couch. He ushers you to his room, but stands protectively in front of his stash that you’ve already locked eyes with.
“I dunno how much this’d get me,” You sniffle, the bill crinkling in your hands, “But I just need something, anything.”
When he doesn’t move, you shake the bill at him accusingly.
“Eddie,” You urge, despair clinging hard to your voice, “I’m not in the mood to mess around. Please, just give me something.”
“I..” Eddie falters, watching you, the person he’s known for years now, come closer to rock bottom than he’s ever seen you, “I don’t want to sell you drugs.”
“Fucking-” Your eyes scrunch shut, and Eddie can see terrible tears squeeze their way out as you gnaw at your bottom lip, “Eddie, listen to me. I need this. I need to not think about things for a while. Please help me.”
“I will,” He decides, inching forward from where he’s leaning against his messy dresser. He reaches for you, takes your trembling frame into his steady hands, and maneuvers you to sit on his mattress. You don’t comment on the horrendous creak of his weary bedsprings, all you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.
Sure, he’s seen you cry before. At almost every sad movie, in fact. The five of you, Nancy, Steve, Robin, you, and himself are on a rotational movie night system, two tapes a week at whoever’s house is the least crowded. More often than not you’re crammed into his trailer or sprawled out in Steve’s living room, but regardless of where you are, you always have tissues with you. He racks his brain to think of what usually makes you cry, coming up with whenever a dog dies, or a child says something cute, or a couple splits, it brings you to tears. But this, this is different. This has you shaking, your shoulders heaving as Eddie’s sure your stomach churns. He thinks, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that maybe he was a little too on the nose about that last thing, that maybe, just maybe, you’re not with Steve anymore.
“Talk to me, kicks.” He prompts you, his hand resting on your bare shoulder. He feels the fabric of your sleeve beneath his fingers, still flopped carelessly down your upper arm, and readjusts it carefully, smoothing out the fabric before replacing his hand.
“Steve-” You start, and Eddie feels his lungs constrict, “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Shouldn’t have asked what?” Eddie doesn’t want to push, but more concern washes over him every second that you’re sobbing beside him, and the way that you limply keel over onto his shoulder makes tears spring to his own eyes.
“It was a joke,” You insist, “But- but then he didn’t answer, and-!”
“Hey,” Eddie fears the convulsion of your frame, tugging your hands away from your face and cupping your cheeks in his hands, “Breathe. Just forget about it for a second, pay attention to me, and breathe.”
You gulp for oxygen, the resulting exhale shaking as it seeps from your throat. Your red, puffy eyes roam his face, the despair in them unmoveable, something that scares Eddie almost more than whatever happened in the first place. Fuck it if you and Steve aren’t together anymore, but you have to be okay. 
Eddie’s not quite sure how he’s managed to push away his feelings for this long. He’s only done it because Steve makes you happy, and he’s certain that your best friend up and ditching you because of some childish jealousy would do the opposite. He’s thought about it before; cutting you off. He just can’t bear the thought of you crying to Steve over it, crying at all, for that matter. But it’ll be a cold day in hell when he lets Steve Harrington comfort you over his cruelty.
Because of this, because he can’t tell you how he feels, he has to make it seem like nothing’s wrong. But it is, everything is oh-so-wrong when your head rests so easily on Steve’s shoulder, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper a sarcastic quip about the characters on screen to him. It’s wrong when you wriggle happily at his laughter, digging your face into the conjunction of his neck and shoulder to press a soft kiss there. It’s wrong when you catch Eddie’s eye afterwards, a sheepish smile sliding onto your face at his unamused gaze. You whisper a quiet, ‘sorry,’ but it’s for disrupting his movie-watching experience, not for breaking his heart.
Although, he supposes, you’re not breaking his heart anymore. You certainly had, the day you’d raced to his trailer with stars in your eyes and a flower in your hands, loudly proclaiming that Steve Harrington asked you out!
He’d felt the organ shatter when you’d grasped his hands and excitedly told him that it was the best day of your life, that you were the happiest person on the planet, that he’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Now there’s nothing left to break, no pieces of his heart big enough to crack. Now you stomp on them, now the heel of your sneaker grinds them into dust fine enough to slip down through his guts and land heavy in his stomach.
He feels guilty over it, but he won’t let that stop him: he’s happy you’ve split with Steve. He likes Steve, he really does, but only when you’re not around him. He chats the guy up at Family Video, offers him a ride when his car breaks down, and laughs with him over the younger kids. When his hand weaves around your waist, though, he’s Eddie’s mortal enemy.
He’s now at the top of Eddie’s shit list altogether, surpassing Jason and his band of cronies, and whoever invented dye for clothing that bleeds in the wash. Because the tears streaking down your face are unforgivable. They’re a sight he wants to forget immediately but knows he’ll never be able to, one that will haunt him for as long as he lives because of how defeated you look.
“You have pretty eyes,” You hum, voice still shaky. Apparently you’d been taking as much advantage of your position as Eddie had, ogling him just the same. He doesn’t think it possible, but a soft smile curves over his face, and his thumbs stroke your cheeks.
“Yeah? Y’think after all these years of knowin’ each other you’d know that by now.” He teases, no trace of negativity in his words. He has a way of teasing you like he loves you, and you don’t know how he does it, but you’re grateful for it in that moment.
All you can do is sniffle, and Eddie has half a mind to dab at the stickiness under your nose with his sleeve. You’d chide him, call him gross, but he’d lick mud off of his van tires if you asked him to. 
“Alright,” Eddie tries tentatively, smoothing away some of the wetness on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, “Wanna try again? What’s eatin’ ‘ya, kicks?”
The thought of whatever Steve did has tears flooding your pretty eyes once more, and Eddie wants to freeze time so he can go over and kick the guy’s ass. But he doesn’t, he keeps petting your cheeks, waiting silently for you to say something.
“It was a joke,” You repeat, your voice foggy, “I- I said something about- about loving me, and- and I said I was the only girl he loves. He didn’t, Eddie-!” You gush, face screwing up into a terribly-withheld sob, “He didn’t answer! His eyes, they dimmed, and he got all stiff, and- and I knew it was Nancy, Eddie, I knew!”
You slump forwards into his hands, a mess of sticky tears and heart-aching sobs, and Eddie can’t stop you from bumping your forehead against his. He’s not anything more than an anchor for you at that moment, and he knows it, but that doesn’t stop the shattered pieces of his heart from glowing when your nose brushes against his.
You try tucking your head into his chest but he stops you, keeping your cheeks in his hands and puckering his lips to press them into your skin. He feels your chest convulse, tries sticking more kisses to the crease between your eye and the bridge of your nose, just in case that helps. He doesn’t know for sure if it does, but you seem to curl tighter into him, so he takes it as a good sign.
He realizes right then and there that he can’t stop. It’s like his lips have a mind of their own, as if now that they’ve gotten the feeling of your skin pressed against them, he’ll die if he doesn’t keep feeling it. Each time he promises himself this is the last one, before he’s even finished the thought he’s pressing another kiss to your damp, flushed skin.
The taste of your tears doesn’t deter him, either. Kiss after kiss is rained down upon you, sliding from just beside your eye to the crevice between your nose and your cheek, then the curve of your chin. Each place he loves on is awkward, slightly invasive as his nose prods the skin just above it, but he’s not sure there’s any part of you he doesn’t want to kiss. He’d peck the back of your knee if you gave him the chance, and he decides not to evaluate how whipped he’s sure that makes him.
He’s not sure if he’s touch starved in general, or if it specifically correlates to all the time he’s spent around you without kissing you. He’ll admit he’s not exactly a casanova, and the last girl he kissed did it on a dare, but he can’t imagine wanting this badly to kiss anyone but you. He knows it would be selfish to take the next step, though, keeps those thoughts to himself as he smothers you in love.
Soon enough the tears that slide down your cheeks aren’t fresh and wet anymore. They’re tacky to the touch and Eddie’s lips help soak them up, until the skin that he’s kissing is dry, and your sniffles are subsiding. You’re slumped helplessly into his lap, though you’re not making any move to distance yourself, so he’s certain you’re not uncomfortable.
Pulling away from you feels like ripping his heart out of his chest, his newly mended heart that’s sticking itself back together with every kiss he plants on your face. He feels alive again for the first time since you broke the news of you and Steve, and he’s going to feel guilty for a long time that he’s benefitting from this.
He stares down at you, where you’re crumpled pathetically against his chest. You gaze up at him with big, watery eyes, and it takes everything in him not to kiss you some more. He wants to smooch you until you’re giggly and bright again, until the tired despair on your face shifts to bright, pure joy.
“I wish he was over her,” Your sigh sounds wistful, and Eddie hates that you have to dream of fidelity. He’d offer it to you unending, he’d devote his life to you in writing.
“Me too.” Eddie admits, and he’s truthful with it. He wants Steve and Nancy’s bond severed, he doesn’t want to have to endure an awkward silence every time their past relationship is brought up, but he doesn’t want you back with Steve either. He’s stuck in the middle of wanting something sensible and wanting something nonsensical, and he can’t decide where he wants to draw the line.
“I wish he loved me,” You seem to be breaking your record for destroying Eddie’s heart, “But- but maybe he does. I’m just not the only one, and I wish I was.”
“Yeah,” He can’t bring himself to say ‘me too,’ again, but he knows why you want that, “I know, sweetheart. It’s not your fault, though. You know that, right?”
“I know,” You nod carefully against his chest, and some of his dread lightens. He’d hate for you to blame yourself for Steve’s muddled feelings, he’s sure he’d go and knock the man’s teeth in if you were feeling like you had done something wrong,
“It’s just-” You start, and his hope dims again, “I know it’s not my fault I’m not Nancy. Or- Or that I’m not enough to make him forget about her. But I kind of wish I was, you know? It would be nice to be so good for him that he finally gets over his first love.”
“You want to be wanted,” Eddie murmurs, knowing the feeling all too well, “You want to be the most special person in someone’s life.”
“Yeah,” You suppress a sob, clutching tighter to Eddie’s shirt, “That’s it.”
“For what it’s worth,” Eddie starts, terror lacing his words. He’s not sure he’s even supposed to be saying them, because he really doesn’t want to take advantage of your misery, but he needs you to know that you are wanted, that you are special, “You’re the most special person in my life, kicks.”
He throws your nickname on the end to hopefully push away some of the romantic undertones it carries. Like he could completely negate how lovesick he is for you with a single word, with an offhanded moniker about your sneakers. Like you won’t notice he’s in love with you if he pretends he isn’t
You freeze; not a good sign. Eddie’s heart, still battered and bruised and half-stitched, hammers in his chest, and he tries to ignore the battering ram against his ribs. 
All at once, the rest of your willpower crumbles, and you bury yourself in him. Eddie thinks its the most beautiful sensation in the world, having your face in his neck, but he feels hot tears sliding over his skin, and that makes him regret enjoying it. Your chest heaves against his own as your legs wind around his waist, and he eagerly accepts your position as his new koala companion. Sobs come hard and fast from your mouth, and he’s worried for your poor lungs. At least, he muses, you hadn’t been smoking like you’d intended to, or else he’d be more worried for them. 
“Sweetheart,” He croons sympathetically, a bittersweet feeling washing over him as you nuzzle further into him. He’s glad you like the nickname, but he’s not glad that you seem to need it. You’re clinging to his love because you’d run away from Steve’s, and he’s going to put the man six feet under for not giving it all to you.
“It’s alright,” Is all he can murmur, and while he can believe it, he’s sure you can’t, “I promise everything’s gonna be okay. We can stay here for as long as you need,” He vows, his hands smoothing out the wrinkles in your shirt, which, with disdain he notices is actually Steve’s, “I promise he can’t get to you here.”
He has visions of fighting the Harrington boy off with a broom if he tries to come knocking, but he’s sure it would be more like angrily hanging up the phone on him instead. Nevertheless, he’ll protect you however he can.
“I’m sorry for hiding here.” You sluggishly apologize, muffled into the tear-stained skin of Eddie’s neck, “I know it’s not fair to you.”
“Not fair,” He scoffs, leaning down to indulge himself and press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Bullshit, baby. You’ve been comin’ here since we were seven. Wayne has your handprint right next to mine on that stepping stone we made him, ‘member?”
You recall the messy gray stepping stone you’d put together for Wayne before father’s day, your handprint running messily into Eddie’s in the sloppy concrete mixture. He’d slapped his down right on top of yours, and Wayne jokes about how if anyone uncovers that years from now, they’re gonna think Eddie didn’t have a thumb. 
“Yeah,” You croak, and you grab the same hand he’d covered your own with in the imprint, smoothing your fingers over the thumb that he does, in fact, have, “I guess.”
“Hell, Wayne’ll beat up Harrington if you want him to,” Eddie pokes your side, and he’s glad for the giggle it elicits, “We’ll tag team him, make him pay.”
“Don’t do that,” You let out a breathy laugh, sitting up and pulling yourself out of Eddie’s chest, “it’s not his fault he still loves her. I just- I wish he hadn’t roped me into it too.”
“Yeah.” Eddie nods, leaning back from where he was curled protectively around you, “I know.”
“Eddie,” You glace down at your torso, your brows scrunching, “Can I borrow a shirt? I don’t.. I don’t wanna wear Steve’s anymore.”
“‘Course you can,” Eddie scrambles for his dresser, grabbing the first clean shirt that he sees, an old tee he’d scrawled ‘corroded coffin’ over, “See if that fits okay.”
“Thanks.” You stand, not bothering to make your way to the bathroom. All you do is turn to face the wall, slipping Steve’s shirt off over your head and tossing it to the floor.
Eddie’s stomach lurches. You obviously feel comfortable enough around him to undress, and he doesn’t exactly want to fuck that up by ogling you. But the glance at your exposed back that he sees before he can process the situation and turn away stuns him into silence. He can’t even bring himself to tease you, he just sits there staring at Steve’s shirt on his floor.
He wants to burn it.
He feels the bed dip, and snaps his eyes back to you. You’re freshly clad in his shirt, a sight that he tries not to jump for joy over, and you offer him a kind smile.
“You can look now,” You assure him, seeing the tinge of pink on his cheeks, “Thanks again for the shirt, Eddie.”
‘Anytime,” He smiles, and he means it. Your fingers fiddle with the corner of his pillow, and he stares at his bedside clock. 1:34 PM is far too late, and he understands your drowsiness.
“Why don’t you lay down,” He suggest gently, patting the bed, “And I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t bother you?”
“It’s okay,” You stretch out over the mattress, happy to be given an invitation to, “You can just sleep too, Eddie.”
“Are- are you sure? What if he comes over?” Eddie’s mind whirls with a thousand different horror stories, all of them ending with you back in Steve’s arms.
“He won’t,” You yawn, tucking your arms close to your chest, “He didn’t run after me when I left, why would he now?”
It’s with a terrible sinking feeling that he listens to you, staying perched on the edge of the bed while you get comfortable. You look imploringly up at him, “Aren’t you gonna sleep?”
“Here?” Eddie glances down at his bed, noting that there’s plenty of room for him.
“Yeah.” You nod sleepily, your exhaustion both from the hour and your meltdown, “‘S fine, Eddie, it’s not like Steve’s gonna yell at you for it.”
He snorts before he can stop himself, and instantly feels guilty. It’s what you wanted, though, if your wry smile has anything to say, and he carefully lays down across from you.
“Kicks?” He flicks the light off beside him, settling his hands under his face, “I’m sorry he let you go.”
Really, he’s not. He’s sorry you’re sad about it, he’s sorry you cried for so long, and he’s sorry that Steve almost turned you into a druggie, but he’s not sorry you split. He keeps his feelings to himself, though, like he always does, and waits for you to answer.
“Yeah,” You hum, “Me too. Probably for the best, though. I’m.. I’m gonna miss him a lot.”
“Yeah.” Eddie murmurs, watching through the faint moonlight peeking into the room from behind his blinds, “I’m here if you need me.”
“I do need you,” Eddie thinks that’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard come out of your mouth, and he curses himself for not having a recorder on him. He yearns to respond movie-style, record your sweet voice and play it over and over again to himself. But all he can do is smile in the darkness, waiting as you drift off to sleep.
--
He waits an hour. A full hour of your light, huffy breath just barely hitting his cheek, and your limbs shuffling restlessly on the bed. Finally, he thinks, you’re asleep, and he rises from his mattress carefully. He pads across his bedroom carpet and pulls open the door. Miraculously, it doesn’t creak. All it does is glide across the floor, and the knob doesn’t even squeak when he shuts it again.
He’s past you, but now he needs to get past Wayne. The man’s sleeping on the couch, as he always does, and Eddie tries not to think about how much more comfortable his uncle would be if he slept in Eddie’s room, on a real bed. He tiptoes to the phone, dials the number he knows from carpool emergencies and movie night planning, and steps outside with it, his feet meeting the cold concrete of the front steps.
The cord stretches fine out to the porch, and Eddie’s thankful that he doesn’t have to berate Steve with his uncle in the room. He speaks freely in the chilly night air, goosebumps raising on his skin.
Steve picks up after only one ring, and Eddie’s surprised he’s able to shut the door in time to start talking.
“Y/N?” Steve’s voice crackles over the line, “Is that you?”
“No.” Eddie drawls, venom in his voice.
“Eddie,” Steve sounds relieved to hear Eddie, and the boy’s stomach knots at that realization, “She’s with you? I’m on my way, dude, just keep her there.”
“What?” Eddie frowns, his voice echoing in the woodsy chasm his trailer rests in, “No! You’re not seeing her.”
“Eddie,” Steve groans, “Come on, don’t be a dick. I’m trying to apologize, I’m trying to make this right!”
"Listen, man." Eddie's teeth are gritted so hard he's surprised he hasn't cracked any of them, "You need to stay away from her, okay? She's hurt real bad, and it's your fault. I don't care why you didn't answer, she's my best friend and she needed an answer. You- god, Harrington, you never deserved her in the first place. Got it?"
"Eddie," Steve scoffs, his voice pleading and thick with tears, "Come on, man. I know you like her. But it's not my fault you didn't tell her. Yes, it's my fault that she's crying. But I- I wanna make it up to her! Just let me see her, dude."
"No." Eddie insists, hand curled so tightly around the phone that it starts to creak under his fingers, nothing but white hot rage flowing through his lanky body, "She's never gonna forgive you. You need to get your shit together, Harrington. Preferably before you destroy another poor girl."
“I have my shit together!” Steve insists, and Eddie can picture him ruffling his hair angrily, “Or at least, I would, if you weren’t so hellbent on intruding!”
“Intruding? She came to my place.” Eddie corrects him, “She wanted to see me.”
“Dude, seriously.” Steve’s bargaining skills are less sharp than he needs them to be, “Don’t you want her to be happy? I make her happy, Eddie, you know I do. And I want to, but I can’t unless I apologize!”
“For what?”
“What?”
“Apologize for what, Harrington?” Eddie spits, “Apologize for not answering her? Or apologize for being in love with someone else?”
“I’m not..” Steve falters, and it’s the only confirmation Eddie needs, “I’m not in love with someone else.”
“Yes you are,” Eddie insists, “Listen: I don’t like you right now. But you’d feel so much better if you really worked on moving on. Okay? I wish I wasn’t giving you friendly advice, because Y/N just cried hard enough to flood my bedroom, but really, for your own good, sort out your feelings.”
“Eddie..” Steve sighs, but Eddie’s already got a hand on the door to the trailer again.
“No, Steve. Get your shit together. Leave her alone.”
Eddie races for the receiver, feet thumping against the floor. He hangs the phone up before Steve can reply, and he’s surprised the clacking doesn’t wake Wayne. But the man’s a heavy sleeper, and so are you, Eddie notes, when he comes back to his room and sees you still snoozing.
The bed dips with his weight, and you unconsciously respond to his body heat. Sluggishly, sleepily, you roll over, curling an arm around Eddie’s chest and burrowing your face in his shoulder.
There’s no mistaking what you say.
“Steve,” You hum groggily, your slumbering brain too far gone to remember any of your surroundings.
Eddie bites his lip to stop a whimper from escaping his throat. Tears sting hot and heavy at his eyes, and he curses whatever shitty toga-clad cherub had used him as target practice and made him fall for you. He tries to stay still, he tries ignoring your inviting snuggle, but he’s not strong enough, and he turns his head to press his cheek to your temple.
He’ll be your Steve if you don’t want Eddie.
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feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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the-ghost-of-a-spirit · 3 months
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mha s4 ep 15-24 ( @maidofdarkness23
i feel like i should say, when i say i ship something, i dont always mean it is a serious way, sometimes its just cause its funny
Ep 15 whats with everyone in the intro and musical instruments? and aizawa being sad in a feild, before he was just sitting there now he's holding something
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this is it, also it says neko, who's neko? maybe i'm looking at this too hard, but it feels important
miriyo! he's really nice, and positive about the whole ari/losing quirk thing
whats with todoroki and his phone?
Ep 16 *endeavour and almighty are next to eachother" some guy: are you guys seeing.. me: each other? guy:this! anyway, new ship just dropped endevor/almight (300+ ao3 works)
their opportunity are literal children and they are losing. L (I would have done better)
mic no. dunno what's he's going to do but no okay, so he's just sitting there saying nonsense for now
this is so funny. the children are ruthless
i think one of the kids have an inteligence quirk, no way he's natrually that mature.
okay, y'know what, almight/endevour could work out, like, actually, as friends at least
"my name is not 5 weenies" i could never say that with a straight face
todoroki, that will not work, i'm calling it I WAS RIGHT
"present mic's bad at his job, so now i'm doing it to"
Episode 17
they have the chance to be very badass and I am here for it (it's against pre schooners but hey)
telling people to shut up in the nicest way possible
endeavour and todoroki sure have a Relationship
"the equation isnt that difficult to solve" the equation:
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i think, thats calculus or something
also ectoplasm is a maths teacher
frenchboy feeding midoriya is so funny
WAIT IS FRENCHBOY THE TRAITOR (his names Oyama or aiyama I think, ill check later)
i am concerned, he looks like hes planning to kill deku
oh no, not cheese
wonder what oyama knows, deku's only big secret is afo, but I don't think it's that
okay, so he didn't know anything weird, feel like it's more than that though
so all that was to make them friends? weird but OK
ep 18
the "normal school stuff!" though
loving all these suggestions, it's funny. my favourite is petting zoo, will re-watch this scene again maybe, currently one of my favourite scenes
todoroki doesn't know what a concert is
i love Eri, she's adorable.
ERI DOESNT KNOW SMILING, WHAT
new ship: eri/miriyo (cackling and dying while writing, i hate the fact i thought of it but eri litterally asked if they were going on a date, i do not codone shipping this, i think they have brother/sister type thing)
mha YouTube is called Yap!tube
gentle and his assistant are so goofy wth
ep 19
i know afo but who are the other 2? destro and purist thief. are they important?
ngl those general studies kids are based.
gentle has big "all bark no bite" vibes
holy shit jiro's good
"my fingers won't reach cause of my character design" loving the 4th wall break
i love thus arc, everyone is so silly
also tokoyami can play guitar, and mineta is so childish
eri! she has a dress now
Ep 20
i hope its the actual festival
miriyo no also Eri!
nezu has done exactly one good thing, which is letting eri come
just wanna laugh at this for a second
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nezu, why is your hand up, why is your mouth a triangle, why is you evil vibes
ERI TOUR, LETS GO, i love her
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shes ugly, i dont like her eyelashs, and hair, and the rest of her.
tamaki!
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Nezu why do you eat like that
deku, if i was you i'd have died like, 5 seconds ago from embarsment
gentle will break into the festival and vlog it
loving the family dynamic la'brava and gental have going on
Ep 21
i have concerns regarding hownd dog
midoriya going right next to the placr where gentle is going, love this forshadowing
"rope is a specialty item" i'm pretty sure i can go to the petrol station near my house and get rope.
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HE LOOKS OLDER, WHAT
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funny number, heh
betting hound-dog is gonna come
Ep 22
deku, did not, infact have time
eri!
the yayorozu chant might just be how i remember her name
ERI SMILE, AJFHDJWNSDNM (i would die for her)
that performance is so cool
"romeo, the ghost of azkaban" GANDALF TOO "i am your true father" (luke, i am your father) Ah, yes, so original
eri's little recap of the show, though, can we just think of that
okay, eri's my favourite, then tamaki
why is bakugo melting the ice? what happened to todoroki?
kirashima and steel-guy seem like they'd be besties
"people are animals" -tamaki amajiki
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CEMENTOS JUICE CUP
nejire won
ERI HAS A CANDY APPLE
Ep 23
ERI'S LIVING IN UA AOIDHSQKWDHNSBXJKOQANXFDSCS
ERI'S LIVING IN UA
MORE ERI!!
Aizawa, your mean who's the visitors?
i wanna know what happened with hawks and tokoyami
the pussy cats are here. why
the recent rankings are almight, endevour and hawks i need to know more about hawks, i have seen so many fanfics about him (havent read any yet) so now i'm curious
number 8's a fucking washing mashine. how
woods seems cool
edgeshot is a cool name
best jeanist has a cool quirk
i think i like hawks i like hawks, favourite hero. maybe one of the favourite characters. he's really cool (i am not surprised about the fanfics, i would be searching for them when i finish, but scared of spoilers. also why are him and dabi shipped? (dont tell me))
is endevour actually on fire? like, is his fire real. do people get burnt by touching him? why are there people so near him?
hawks just stabbing him with feathers.
okay, its official, tamkaki, eri and hawks are my favourites. tamaki, idk why, eri is so, so cute and hawks is fucking awesome
endevour is not allowed to be nice
i think this whole villan biography is big, cause la'brava had one too, and i have heard of the libaration before (not sure where)
villan attacked them, nomu i think
Ep 24
VILLAN FIGHT??
todoroki has an older sister, and an older brother. i think he's the only one with a fire quirk though, could be wrong
pretty sure hero's shouldnt destroy buildingd
hawks is so funny
intelligent nomu
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if the one on the left is todoroki, does that mean the white hair is something he got, and he wasn't born like that
:0 did endevour just... die? no, he'a alive
this scene reminds me of the ending of the game "we become what we behold"
endevour litterally just went "gotta go fast" like sonic
bit with the feathers and endevour reminds me of a pheonix
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pluralthey · 1 year
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could we get some facts abt jessies sister/their dynamic .. she is so cool i love her design
emily is older than jessie -- not by a lot, like 2 years, always just a little bit ahead of her. jessie's always felt overshadowed by emily and is a little resentful of this, but moreso deeply wants emily's approval. she wants emily to laugh at her jokes, she wants emily to think she's smart, she wants to win against emily when they play games and then get a pat on the back from her. i think it's a pretty standard youngest-eldest dynamic. emily sees jessie as another part of her life that makes her look better. how poorly jessie is doing can correlate a lot with how much effort she feels she has to put into keeping up her own appearances at a given time. she has an air of confidence by the reassurance that she's always going to be the better between the two of them in the same way jessie has an inferiority complex from the dynamic no matter how much power she has. prior to the story she's also taken care of jessie as their parents have become older and less physically able to keep up with doing so. she lives at home with them specifically to help her parents and jessie function -- still, this is moreso about taking care of jessie than of her parents, because jessie helps their parents a lot physically. that's a less charitable/more clinical way to describe their dynamic; a lot of the more complicated, unpleasant emotions are entirely subconscious. they are really close. you'll see jessie go to emily when she's feeling uncertain or being vulnerable than her parents a lot in the story, like with her powers and about starting to see this chick she likes. conversely, you'll not see much of emily opening up to jessie for emotional support because she does not see the both of them as equals. she's probably one of the most chill people about jessie's powers simply because she can't wrap her head around jessie surpassing her (in addition to feeling like someone important to jessie whom she wouldn't harm). she's also probably one of the most direct people about asking jessie for "wishes" or favors with the god powers lmfao. about emily herself outside of jessie, she's still a pretty chill person. at least part of it is from her dad, who is also very difficult to upset. she neglects some of her social life for the sake of family, but she's not really introverted. i'm still working on her profession specifically, i know she's in the same field as shiloh (tech) and 100% works on indie games (i don't think she's like, created one from the creative side beyond sparse input to a small team) to some degree. dunno if i would say this is her primary income by any means. she also participated in speedrunning communities primarily as a glitch hunter, but the hobby has been put on the backburner since she has more responsibilities. what can i say, she's a gamer girl............ she loves to figure out how to make things break and freak out, specifically. this can extend to other areas of her life as well. the dog in that one sketch comic, trouble, is also emily's dog. trouble died a couple years prior to the start of the comic, but is revived early in at the behest of emily, whose first attempt at trying to use the powers herself is trying to revive trouble. they're best buddies. their dynamic changes drastically once trouble can "talk" but i think emily handles it well (eg. when trouble says "now you sit" she laughs and sits) also, she IS trans. she started transitioning at the end of high school and by 32 she's had like every surgery known to man and is just chilling. she's also bisexual, which kind of grinds jessie's gears because it means she can't even be The Gay One in the family.
thanks for asking, i'm love answering questions about these creatures
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mlmxreader · 5 months
Text
Even Guard Dogs Feel Fear | Benny Lafitte x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ “Can you, erm, can you stay the night? I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone” With Benny please ❞
: ̗̀➛ Even werewolves get scared of horror films sometimes, and when they do, it's always good to have a vampire nearby.
: ̗̀➛ [trigger warnings] horror films, smoking
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
The screen went dark, bright white credits rolling as creepy music continued to play in the background, and Benny could feel you clinging onto his side; it made him smile to himself as he kept his arm firmly around you, silently soothing you with the gentle rub of his hand going up and down your bicep.
He could feel your warmth against his cool skin and the harsh breaths from your mouth; the slightest of trembles from you as you swallowed thickly and reluctantly peeled away from him.
Benny loved nights like this.
Nights when he wasn't working and he could actually sit down and spend some actual time with you at his side. You took turns choosing what to do, and it was your turn this time, and you had insisted on watching a horror film.
Evidently, it had affected you more than you could ever actually say.
He had never known you to be scared of one before, and he was a little amused; his big, rough, tough, gruff werewolf partner, scared of a little film about home invasion turning to a murder spree.
He wanted to grin, really, but when he saw the fear in your eyes, it soon died away as he frowned and cleared his throat.
"You alright, sugar?"
You shook your head, swallowing thickly and looking as if you were about to jump out of your own flesh like one of those old cartoons; your skeleton just about ready to pop right out at the slightest noise. "Benny, I know I don't ask often, but erm... can you, erm, can you stay the night? I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone, not after that."
Leaning back against the sofa, Benny shrugged as he crossed his ankles, making himself more than at home. "Sure thing, anythin' for you."
You seemed to relax a little, snuggling into his side again as you sniffled a little. "That one really fucked with me..."
"You never get scared of those," he chuckled softly, playing with a stray strand of fabric coming from your hoodie. "What was so different?"
"I dunno," you breathed out. "But, erm... can we watch another film? Maybe something, I dunno, lighter?"
Benny smiled a little. "How 'bout All Dogs Go To Heaven?"
That earned him a playful smack to the chest, making him laugh loudly as you scowled at him only half seriously. "Don't."
"I couldn't resist," he admitted with a shrug.
"Whatever," you huffed. "Dracula."
Benny grinned a little, trying not to laugh; but then you grabbed his hand, dragging him along with you to the kitchen. It was hard for him not to laugh, especially when you insisted on him standing behind and pressed up against you as you rolled yourself a cigarette.
He let his hands rest on the waistband of your jogging bottoms, leaning his chin on your shoulder and closing his eyes for a moment.
Pretty much bliss. Or at least the closest that he could get to it.
You had always been keen on physical contact, and for the most part, he simply chalked it down to the lycanthrophy; you thrived on social connection and family, you needed it far more than he ever did.
But you chose him, even when you could have gone out and found a group of werewolves, you chose him. Over everything else, you chose Benny. He never did understand why, but he never tried to think of it much.
He tried to be happy, as much as he was allowed to be.
Still, he kept his hands on your waistband, getting rather comfortable until you suddenly moved away to light your cigarette; he missed it.
"Promise you'll stay?" You asked quietly, all but glaring at him with those almost glowing eyes.
Benny nodded, planting his hands on the counter and leaning over slightly so that you could see perfectly well just how sincere he was. "I promise. Don't worry, I'll stay right here til tomorrow night."
You nodded back, a little shaky as you chewed at the inside of your cheek and looked around nervously. "Can you do me a favour?"
He shrugged. "Anythin'."
"Can you quickly check outside?" You asked. "Y'know, just make sure-"
"That there's no spree killers out there," he chuckled, nodding. "For a price, I'd be happy to."
You furrowed your brows. "A price?"
"Just a quick kiss," he whispered softly, daring to grin when you rolled your eyes and smiled. "It ain't easy work, y'know - I gotta get my shoes on, an' my hat, and then? Then I gotta go do a lap 'round, too."
"I'll make sure you're fully compensated when you get back," you bartered.
Benny hummed, pretending to think about it for a quick moment. "Alright. But you're s'posed to be the guard dog, y'know."
"Guard dogs get scared, too," you huffed, watching as he went to grab his shoes and his hat. "Before you go?"
"Uh-huh?"
"I really am grateful," you told him softly. "I know it's a pain but-"
"Ain't a pain," Benny corrected with a shake of his head. "Ain't a pain at all."
You smiled, daring to meet him at the door so that you could gently kiss his bearded cheek. "You're going grey."
He hummed, a little amused. "Maybe when you get home from work tomorrow, I'll let you dye it."
"No," you told him, shaking your head. "No, I like the grey. It suits."
Licking his lips, Benny nodded slowly. "I'm not gonna be long, alright?"
You dared to kiss his cheek again, thankful to have him near. You really did love him, if you were honest; grateful that Dean had introduced the two of you when you offered to help him out. You couldn't imagine being without Benny anymore.
But the ring in your back pocket didn't feel so heavy anymore; every time you thought about it, you weren't nervous. You were giddy, and excited and hopeful about what he might say. Maybe when he got back, you would actually ask at last.
if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to help Tahani save her children and husband
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superman86to99 · 5 months
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Superman: The Man of Steel #35 (July 1994)
"WORLDS COLLIDE," Part 1! And "THE FALL OF METROPOLIS," Part 2! And a Wonder Woman crossover! And a long-time character dies, as spoiled by the cover! This issue might be peak '90s. This is the most '90s you can cram into 22 pages without the comic exploding.
Things are a bit rough in Metropolis after Lex Luthor's main lackey launched some missiles that destroyed almost every building in the city (Action #700). Keith the Unlucky Orphan and his friends are trying to gather food from what's left of their orphanage, when a bunch of gangsters with machine guns show up to steal everything, reminding us why we call him Keith the Unlucky Orphan. Luckily, though, the kids are protected not just by Keith's pal Superman but by Myra, the Orphanage Lady, who decides to keep a couple of those machine guns in case the ruffians return.
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Combined with the scars she got on her face after saving Keith from an hypnotic lizard lady last issue, Myra is only some shoulder pads away from looking like a badass '90s anti-hero.
While Superman tries to help people around the ruins of Metropolis, a Giant Robot That Shoots Death Lasers From Its Chest (GRTSDLFIC) emerges from the ground and starts creating more ruins. The monster runs into Keith and the other orphans, so Myra bravely stands in front of it with her new toys and tries to distract it.
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And she does! For about a second.
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As he holds Myra's body, Keith yells out for Superman, who arrives right in time to save him from getting death lasered too. The Special Crimes Unit also stops by to help, and the GRTSDLFIC turns out to be smart enough to target Maggie Sawyer out of all of the officers because it can tell she's the top dog (or maybe it's just homophobic, dunno). Superman saves her, because one strong female supporting character death is enough for this issue.
Superman realizes the GRTSDLFIC is alive and needs to breathe, so he flies it up into orbit to take out its air and leaves it suspended there while he goes deal with other problems. (Presumably by also throwing them into orbit, like usual.) Meanwhile, Keith begs Maggie and SCU to take Myra to the hospital, but it's too late for her. The kid has an understandably tough time accepting that another mother figure has left him.
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RIP, Myra the no-nonsense orphanage lady. When we met her back in Man of Steel #1 (1991), I don't think anyone guessed that she'd die wielding dual machine guns while facing a Giant Robot That Shoots Death Lasers From Its Chest. But we should have, dammit. We should have.
Plotline-Watch:
So, wait, why is this part of a crossover called "Worlds Collide"? Because a whole 5 pages are devoted to Lois Lane's mailman, Fred Bentson, who is still having weird nightmares where he finds himself in another universe. Professor Hamilton meets Bentson at a Red Cross shelter and takes him to a clinic to treat his sleep disorder, which involves becoming immaterial while he sleeps and being haunted by an inter-dimensional monster. At the clinic, some rather shady psychologists hook Bentson up to a machine that can project his dreams, and they all see him naked as he's chased by the nightmare monster and tries to get help from... STATIC?!
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By the way, the shady sleep clinic happens to be located right under the bridge that was half-destroyed during Superboy's fight with that Spider-Man wannabe called Stinger almost a year ago, which is still half-destroyed. At least it doesn't stand out from the rest of the city anymore (thanks, Dr. Happersen!). The half-bridge will be a relevant plot point during this storyline.
And why is this a Wonder Woman crossover? Because she appears for a single panel while Superman is fighting the Giant Robot and wishes she'd picked another issue to come ask for his advice. The comic tells us to buy Wonder Woman #88 (which briefly shows WW helping Superman against the robot) for the rest of the story.
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On that subject, Don Sparrow says: "Superman doesn’t appear very prominently in the connected issue of Wonder Woman #88. All that happens is Wonder Woman requests that Superman stop her if she ever loses control of herself. It’s not a great issue, largely because Christopher Priest writes both Diana and Superman fairly out of character throughout, and the art in the issue manages to depict Wonder Woman as both matronly and pervy. (The issue also features the choice line of dialogue “female be trippin’”, so if you don’t rush out and find the issue, you’re not missing much, apart from another great Bolland cover featuring Superman)."
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Yes, the Keith stuff is pretty depressing, and could be seen as another example of Superman comics going all "Dark Age," but at least it'll lead to positive things for the character in the near future. Now, those other orphans who lost Myra, not so sure...
Patreon-Watch:
The results of the Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey bonus artwork poll are in, and after tallying up the votes here and at Patreon, the character who will get drawn by the great Don Sparrow is... Maxima, in her post-Doomsday purple suit! Who won by a whole vote! (For those keeping count: 5 votes for Red Cyborg, 10 for Pouch Superman, and 11 for Purple Maxima.)
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Don's work will be posted for all to see, but the original artwork will be given away to one of our patrons, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Bol, Gaetano Barreca, and Dave Shevlin. If you'd like to decrease their chances, join them at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99!
And speaking of Don, stick around for his section, after the jump...
Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):
It’s an interesting cover, with the protagonist and even the title trade dress obscured by shadow.  It’s not really an action-type pose, but Superman’s angry expression indicates that action will follow.  We also get a hint at the tragedy within, with an injured Myra Allen below Superman.
Inside the book, we get our first glimpses of post-cataclysm Metropolis, seen through the eyes of hard-luck Keith.  The double page spread on pages 2 and 3 is a great drawing of Superman, exuding power even in a static pose. 
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The cybernetic monster, who in this issue gets neither a name, nor an origin (unless the story’s title, Afterburn, is maybe the robot’s name?) but it’s an appropriately Fleischer studios-like design for Bogdanove to draw. 
Normally I quite dislike photo-stat backgrounds, but the panel with Superman carrying survivors gets a pass from me, because I love images of Superman saving kids—especially the way Bogdanove draws it. 
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Myra Allen’s last stand against the robot is stirringly drawn, and to me visually recalls Frank Miller and Dave Gibbons’ “Martha Washington Goes to War” which was hitting newsstands around this time.   It’s interesting to see Bogdanove’s version of the famed Brian Bolland pose from Wonder Woman #72, even if she’s facing away. 
Keith’s grief at Myra’s passing is as powerful and sad an image as we’ve ever seen in these books, and my heart breaks for the poor little guy (look at his little hand clutching the cape!  What an astonishing detail!).  Though he’s fictional, it’s hard not to feel for him, when he’s endured so much tragedy in his young life.  I appreciate the restraint here, from a story standpoint—Superman offers no words of comfort, or guidance at what comes next, because they would only be trite and empty in a moment such as this.  All Superman can do, he does—which is to hold Keith, and let him weep.
Our final cameo of the book is Milestone’s Static, another character Bogdanove seems born to draw.  The introduction to him, as the milquetoast Bentson jumps to the Milestone world is fittingly energetic.   
SPEEDING BULLETS:
I appreciate the detail early on that Superman has put “a lot of time into locating” gas leaks and shutting them down.  It’s nice that the writer considered something like that.
We’ve known for a while that the DCU version of Coca-Cola is Soder, but nice to be informed that Sprite is called “Spritz” here. 
Professor Hamilton is perhaps a bit casual about the fact that Bentson was briefly immaterial! [Max: Maybe he's like "Have I been immaterial before? Maybe during the Husque storyline? Don't remember..."]
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The great Jose-Luis Garcia Lopez gets a sort of shout out on page 7, as a fresh fruit stand bears his name.
At the time of this issue’s release I remember being very curious about the Milestone characters, and excited about them crossing over with my favourite character, but I still question the choice of having an uninteresting character like Bentson be the initial conduit between the worlds.  Maybe if the previous issues had established him as a recognizable Metropolis fixture (as well as Dakota City) like Whit or Allie or someone, it would have a little more impact (though they do try to build up his importance here, as the mailman who delivered the damaging evidence about Lex Jr.).  But I find it hard to really care about the Egon-looking guy, particularly when he’s running around naked.
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stardust-sunset · 11 months
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For the ask game: Butters! I can't decide on which questions so... all of them! (Or how ever many you feel like answering.)
oh this should be fun-
My first interpretation of them
Honestly I just felt bad for him. I basically knew him as the kid who got grounded all the time and he seemed sweet enough, he was actually one of my faves from the beginning haha
2. When I think I started to truly like him
Honestly the Fun With Veal episode. And in the Butters’ Bottom Bitch episode where he just kept going ‘do you know what I am saying?’ I just thought it was funny lol
3. A song that reminds me of them
(Kinda a joint one) but You and Me (But Mostly Me) from Book of Mormon is SO Butters and Cartman. Also The Weight of Us by Sanders Bohlke.
4. How many people I ship them with
I don’t really do ships lol, I liked him and Charlotte tho, they seemed cute.
5. My favorite ship of them
Probably him and Charlotte
6. My least favorite ship of them
Him and Cartman. Absolutely him and Cartman.
7. A quote of them I remember
“I’d rather be a crying little pussy than a faggy goth kid anyway.”
8, My favorite outfit on them
Professor Chaos or his Stick of Truth costume
9. My least favorite outfit on them
The bear suit Paris Hilton made him wear in Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset. I felt awful for him
10. Describe the character in one sentence
Sunshine boy with horrible family members
11. What’s the first thing I think fo when I think of this character?
His accent. I dunno, I just have a knack for remembering stuff like that lol-I could honestly just listen to his voice all day, it’s soothing for me
12. Sexuality hdc!
I’m torn between him being pan and being straight lol, but I do think he’s on the ace spectrum.
13. My favorite friendship they have
Him and Kenny. Definitely
14. Best storyline they had
Butters’ Very Own Episode. I felt bad for him but it’s one of my favorite episodes
15. Worst storyline they had
Probably in the earlier seasons when he was just used as Kenny’s counterpart for the shows punching bag. Idk, it just felt like he didn’t really have any character or personality back then
16. A childhood headcanon
He lived on a farm for a little bit when he was a baby. They moved from Hawaii to say Oklahoma, then to South Park when he was three. Hence the accent. He also had a pet chick up until he was 7 or so named Toast. His parents made him give the chick away tho
17. What do you think their first word was?
Probably just mama or something. I do have a headcanon he still calls his mom (or his unofficial mother figure) mama sometimes.
18. How do I think he was as a kid?
He was probably really hyper. He subdued when he got older tho because his parents kept grounding him for accidentally breaking stuff when he would run around
19. The most random ship I’ve seen with this character
Butters x Craig. Like ???? They never interacted in the show lol-
20. A weird headcanon
Butters has a huge sweet tooth and if there’s candy or sweets in his vicinity he’ll devour it in an instant and likely suffer from a bellyache later
21. When do I think they were at his happiest?
Probably when he moved out and went to college tbh. He was just happy to get away from his toxic ass family. Or when his grandma finally dies.
22. When do I think he was at his lowest?
I do headcanon that when he’s in middle school he finally snaps. He becomes angry and kinda becomes a bully because he doesn’t feel like he has anyone who cares about him, it’s probably only for a few days at most but he just snaps at everyone, makes fun of everything everyone does, but after a few days Kenny (and maybe Cartman or Kyle) kinda confronts him and he ends up apologizing and trying to find someone to talk to.
23. Future headcanon
I wanna imagine that he lives on a farm, he has a bunch of chickens and goats (his favs) and some cows, pigs, even ducks. He gets a pet dog (a Border Collie) named Waffles. He kinda owns a petting zoo of sorts where younger kids just stop by and he educated them about animals and stuff. He also owns a bakery. He names it ‘Buttery Bliss’ or something
24. What do you think i’d a secret they’ve never told anyone?
Probably the thing with his sphincter and how he has to wear diapers in school sometimes. He probably only told AWESOM-O because he thought it was just a robot. But after that he didn’t tell anyone because he would definitely get made fun of :(
25. When do I think he’s acted the most ooc
Probably in The Worldwide Privacy Tour. Kyle even said ‘this is really out of character for you, Butters.’ so probably that lol, or in Going Native. I mean he literally wanted to kill a bunch of innocent people
26. When do I think they were being “themselves” the most?
Honestly? Probably when he was singing the Loo Loo Loo song, it kinda just showed his cuter side. Or in Cartman Sucks when his parents sent him to the Pray teh Gay Away camp because he was just so oblivious to where he was but still stood up for himself and his friends in the end
27. If they could meet a certain character from a different show/movie/book, who would be the most fun for them to meet?
Hello kitty. This kid would be in HEAVEN if Hello kitty was real. Either Hello kitty or Tails the Fox. Him and Tails are pretty similar. Plus fluffy fox meets sunshine boy, they’d get along-or just him in the pokémon world. Yes.
28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did?
Probably when he was trying to get the Hawaiian tourists killed in war
29. How do I think they’d be as a parent?
Honestly? He spoils the shit out of his kids. He’s a huge pushover, but not to the point where his kids become spoiled brats. He probably exposes them to animals early so he could get them to know what’s good and what isn’t when on the farm. He supports his children, but he’s probably a very sheltering parent if that makes sense. Has no idea what he’s doing at first but eventually gets the hang of it. He loves playing make believe with them, would totally play dress up and such.
30. The funniest scene they ever had?
When he’s Professor Chaos and trying to be all menacing and Dougie has to keep telling him the Simpsons already did his idea and he’s just like ‘aw hamburgers :(‘
Hope this is good!
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atbussysparks · 1 year
Text
SCOUT HEADCANONS FROM THA 💯% COOLEST SCOUT KINNIE #2⁉️⁉️⁉️
He throws his voice. He once made pyro think the coffee maker could talk
He's circus level flexible and it's DISGUSTING. He once remarked that his organs probably looked weird in his body when he did this and sniper lifted his glasses in disgust
He once said "dis nematode in the midst of buffoonery 💀" out loud unwarranted
Can recite the entire script of king of the hill season 3 episode 7 "nine pretty darn angry men"
Had a pet roach named gooch bc he couldn't kill it. He lived for seven months and got to the size of a dollar bill.
Not a HC but scout is literally that one pic of brawny men fighting and chilling with this smaller phat tits green haired chick tearing up an ostrich leg, but if the woman was super buff.
Sometimes he becomes untethered and goes into fits of unbridled violence directed towards whatever moves for no reason at all. To fix this demo flips scout in a specific way and he gets rotated IDIOT
Ate an 1/3rd of a vintage Nancy drew book
If someone points at him he collapses like a ragdoll. The others found out about this after pointing at him while he was swimming and he nearly drowned
Got stuck in the walls and roamed the walls for three days whispering about being a rat, preying and stalking in the night
Counting to three never works on him unless it's spy
Scout is hazmat certified due to a situation with 16 wisdom teeth from 8 dumbasses, a propane truck, and a case of root beer.
Demo holds scout like a large dog when he gets his shots. He nearly ripped medic's ear off with his teeth and medic is never taking chances again.
Some nights he can be heard playing pistolero western music for hours. He yearns for the horses and pneumonia.
His favorite movies are those coming-of-age underdog sports docudramas. And blacula for some reason.
17 of his teeth are chipped so they look sharp
He stole the hope diamond to wear for his bar mitzvah before someone noticed the one in the museum was fake. the government stole it back two days later
He can beatbox very well but uses it to mainly beatbox castle crasher soundtrack during battle
He owns a big mouth billy bass modded to run doom and sing Delilah
Time for a sad one! Scout was violently sick with malaria once. The one time he was conscious he told heavy that he was so sick with the flu when he was 4 he nearly died, and lost all of his baby fat. "Kinda poetic yo, I dunno how. but it makes me sad when I think about it."
His worst fear is dying from starvation. The problem is, he gets hyper focused and forgets to eat, even if he loves eating. The others (mainly pyro) take turns to make sure he eats at least one meal every day
Scout has emetophobia, and sites this as the reason why he hates "that one shade of yellow." No one knows wtf the shade is.
He is banned from ever talking about, mentioning, or referencing Barbara Streisand in any manner in public
He cries when looking at the ocean because he's thinking of the rainbow fish
He made a 13-in-one hair wash and before ANYONE could use it miss pauling disposed of it where she dumps the dead bodies. Soldier, pyro, sniper, and medic held a funeral service for it with scout as the priest
His left eye is permanently triple lidded
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lesbiankoby · 7 months
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11, 12, and 13 for the nrt ask game :)
already answered 11!
who should've died in war arc?
haha i’m gonna get burned at the stake for this— i actually think neijis death was fairly effective for the actual narrative reason he died, which was obito’s birdcage speech, which… is really good and mostly needed a more compelling resolution or smth lol. it mostly fails as a resolution to the hyuuga plotline specifically rather then “well somebody in the war arc needs to die and we need to care about it and it needs to validate obito’s ideology in the moment— ah, let’s use the birdcage symbolism and off neiji” which makes sense. lol. it worked.
…kind of wish hiashi had done a chiyo about it though. it would probably be a more coherent full circle on neijis actual arc and that part one bit if he had.
ALTERNATIVELY hinata could have died for neiji which is a way more coherent death for the hyuuga plotline but doesn’t serve the actual reason we had a major character death at that specific moment nearly as much.
anyway. i dunno whose deaths would have served something it’s been a while since i’ve read that arc. i don’t think kakashi should die, personally. most of the side cast could get sniped for stakes? while i understand there was a metric shit ton of filler endearing them to the audience way more then i got in a manga only run it’s not like dog boy was doing much. i dunno though! i’d really need to reread this arc to have specific opinions about character deaths.
was kakashi trying his best? / was he a "good" sensei?
yeah, and yeah? he failed on an interpersonal level (both bc the institution was against him at every turn and just bc the institution itself was the problem along with his loyalty to it) but kakashi was indeed doing his best.
and as a ninja sensei he was perfectly competent— the kids grew a lot offscreen, lol, he had them for at least half a year. the reason team seven fell apart was outside forces conspiring against them and, again, the very institution of “a genin team” (of which he was a competent sensei for) being kind of fucked from the outset— child soldierism and a corrupt institution, lol.
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Text
Untitled
This has been a strange week, A. I mean you know I have to talk to you today on my break at work (taking at least 2 today because it's sloooooow).
The Boy wrote his English 101 Dual Credit essay about you this week. He warned me.
"Mom, I have to write about 'an experience that made me appreciate life.' I'm gonna write about A dying. I really can't think of writing about anything else that won't come out sounding like bullshit. I still need you to look at it before I turn it in, because you're a writer and it makes me feel better when you say it's not shit, even though it comes with the Mom Discount. But I know it might like...upset you."
Of course I told him to write about you. I told him I wanted to read it (truth). I told him to actually print out a copy because I don't want it lost to the ethereal, nebulous world of online-only assignments; it's something my son made to honor my best friend. I want to save it forever. I want it immortalized (also truth). But it was fucking hard to read it. He took it hard when you died, and I knew he did before reading his school work (obviously), but Christ, how connected the two of you are. The locket J got me connects everyone in the center but you and the Boy are connected on a hinge side, and that locket pops open on that hinge at work all the time. So I'll look down and have to close it back up, and every time it's you and my son looking back at me. It's never you and my grandparents or J and my son, or J and my grandparents. It's always you and the Boy. You helped him so much. I want you to know that. He turned it in yesterday after titling it. 'Loss and Acceptance.' It's hard to title things. Especially when you write something important to you; something difficult to say; something attached to a lot of complex feelings. That's why my essay is untitled.
Then last night I sat on the couch with J and he cried watching a YouTube video of a BBC news capture of Jon Bon Jovi (right?) LITERALLY talking someone off a ledge in Nashville, Tennessee where he was shooting a music video. J cried. He leaves for his bike trip with W and the boys tomorrow morning. So this conversation happened:
Me: You ok? 🥺
J: 🥺😥 (hands over his phone with the video restarted; it was moving, but it didn't make ME cry)
Me: I'm lost. 🫤 I don't know what's getting to you this much. Text me? (J and I often text each other when our bodies are literally touching. Sometimes it's easier to not say it out loud).
J: (both of us are texting now) I dunno, peaches.
Me: Do you feel like...that? (that = suicidal) 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
J: No. Just got to me how many people walked on by.
Me: He didnt. ❤️🥹
J: Yeah. ❤️
Me: Is the stuff with your dad getting to you more than you're telling me? I don't want you to go off Saturday morning feeling so down. ❤️
J: I feel guilty about going. 🫤
Me: Why? Won't lie. I don't like it when you're away, but I want you to go see your friends. W. Fuck, I'd give everything I have except you and the Boy for a week with A right now.
J: That's kind of why. If I don't go, what if something happens to W before I get another chance to see him? Or me even? I'd feel like shit. So I have to go. But I'm leaving you and the Boy. And fucking G. That damn dog. Because what if something happens to one of us while I'm away? I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't.
Me: We're fine. I promise. We just like having you around. Go be with W because...damn I really would give anything to be with A. For even an HOUR.
J hugged me until we all left the living room for bed. We made love last night before we went to sleep. And I dreamed all night about you. That you weren't really dead (again). Everywhere I went, when J was away on this trip, you were with me. 'I can't believe we're at a sushi place right now,' you'd say. 'What the fuck am I supposed to eat here?! Boy used to be on my side. What happened to pizza, man? Your mother finally infected you with her adventurous eating...' I'd look around at family dinner at my parents' house without J and you'd be there. Literally saying, 'I'm still here.'
I fucking miss you so bad. J has never gone away without you being there to text me off my metaphorical ledges and now you're not. Now I'm left with a bunch of people who will just pass me by. I'm so fucking ragingly envious of J that he gets a week with his best friend while I'm so desperately missing mine. I know the dream is supposed to be that I DO get a week with my best friend. That it's somehow 'better' in a way because you'll be right next to me, even in places you'd never ever go with me alive, but I still don't want you to be dead. I'd trade this intangible constancy even at the sushi joint for sporadic texts and bad Pearl Jam jokes in a heartbeat. I'd trade no sushi ever for pizza once a year with you. I'd certainly trade a visit to the fucking cemetery every few weeks to seeing you in person one more time, period. I'd still rather all of this be fake and you're not really even dead, just orchestrating a supremely elaborate scheme to avoid me.
There's every supposed stage of grief in one essay. Except of course for acceptance. That's why I had the Boy print his out for me. I'll keep rereading it until it takes. That still might be never. 💔😭
Anyway, love you, you fucker. I'll see you Monday at your place. ❤️
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