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pondslime · 1 year

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liminal spaces

bo sinclar x afab!reader

rating: explicit

word count: 6.3k

Bo POV. It’s been a long day. Crackin’ open a cold one (and then another, and another) in a town the world forgot.

Crossposted on AO3 here.

⚠️ Established codependent toxic murder couple relationship. Reader’s pretty far gone and is ACTIVELY complicit in the wax murder fuckery. Nothing about this is healthy, lmao! Very dubious consent due to Stockholm Syndrome. References to violence/murders the reader has participated in.

Alcohol consumption and intoxication. Weird affection and drunken banter. Soft but in a VERY strange way because this is the worst situation imaginable, and the reader is clearly Not Doing Well. Childhood abuse/trauma is discussed. Light sprinkling of humor. Lots of kissing. 69ing.

Both parties are varying levels of drunk when the aforementioned making out and 69ing takes place. Bruises/rough sex are briefly mentioned, but the actual smut is very........not rough??? Daddy kink. Light orgasm control/denial and general smug asshole dialogue from Bo. Occasional degrading language. Unfortunately, this is still him we’re dealing with. ⚠️

💭💖@visceravalentines MEG MY BELOVED, thank you so much for this request!! I had a TON of fun working on it. I hope you enjoy it!! it’s kinda goofy, kinda creepy, kinda soft in the worst way possible!

It was messy, doing it in the house like that.

Bo stands and surveys the damage, a thrum of anxious excitement humming under his skin. The shattered remnants of one of the plates you’d prepared litter the floor, an explosion of potatoes and peas smearing the baseboard. All of this was a waste of damn good food—but then again, you never could expect the out-of-towners to have any respect for that kind of thing. Whistling, he picks up the biggest pieces of ceramic, sweeping up the rest and dumping it into the trash.

His eyes land on the knife you left on the counter. There’s blood coating the blade, dripping onto the laminate. He sets it in a glass in the sink, watching red bloom slowly in the soapy water. Glancing down at his hand, he finds his palm slick with blood. His mouth pulls into a smile as he gives the handle a stir. The blood swirls in stringy curls, metal clinking against the glass.

He runs a sponge under the tap and wipes the counter off. Washing the blood from his hand, he looks over at the glass. The bubbles on the surface are pale pink, the glint of the blade faintly visible through the cloudy red water.

He leaves that for later, for you.

He chews absentmindedly at the inside of his mouth as he dries his hands off, staring out the window. The texture of the dishtowel is all wrong—your skin is softer, and that’s what he wants right now. He thinks of the way you’d held the knife, your knuckles blooming white with the pressure.

Kid had been young too. Twenty-something.

God, he’s itching to get his hands on you.

He calls out for you, twisting his head to listen for a response. The only sound that answers him is a low crackle from out in the living room. A record spins on the dusty old turntable, the needle scratching away at the vinyl as it skips. He picks it up and the house falls into silence.

Walking over to the stairs, he calls for you again. Still, no answer. He lets out a frustrated exhale, squinting up at the second floor. He knows that you’re gone before he reaches the top step, but he checks anyway. The rooms are all empty. You must have slipped out when they were moving the bodies.

The needling edge of want in his belly is twisting unpleasantly. The killing was only as fun as what came after it. You couldn’t leave things like that unfulfilled.

Back downstairs, he opens the fridge and pulls out a case of beer.

“Always makin’ me chase you, girl.” He mutters to himself.

He finds you on the back porch of one of Ambrose’s many empty houses, hugging your knees to your chin. The screen door whines against its hinges as he pushes it open. If you hear him, you don’t move.

You startle when he nudges your shoulder with his knee, swiveling your head up to look at him. He offers you one of the beers with a grunt. Setting the case on the wood, he lowers himself down beside you.

“You can’t be runnin’ off like that.”

You make a small noncommittal noise, turning your face back to the dessicated yard. It’s an overgrown tangle of weeds and dirt. An explosion of honeysuckle hangs over the fence, the weather-beaten pickets bending underneath the weight. He follows your gaze across the lawn. A kiddie pool sits in a dense patch of crabgrass, the plastic cracked and sagging. Years of being baked by the sun have left the print nearly indistinguishable, vague splatters of cartoon flowers scattering the sun-baked surface.

He cracks a beer open, watching as you look out at all that nothing.

He was always spooning you out of yourself on days like this. Every time was the first time for you. Eventually, he was sure this would get old. You’d get tired of being tired and you’d stay put.

You haven’t made a move to open your bottle yet, your fingers scratching aimlessly at the label.

If you decide it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. That’s all there is to it. Pa had told him that once. Old man had never been one for good advice, but Bo figured there was something to that. He’d tried to pass that lesson on to you—once with words, once with his hands, once with a screwdriver jammed into the fleshy neck of another tourist.

That was before he figured things out about you. Before he’d realized that telling you things was pointless. So was showing you things. It could be right in front of you and it wouldn’t matter. You could watch him kill, clean up the mess, but you weren’t learning anything. You had to do things yourself. You had to have your hands on the blade.

“Need some help with that?” He reaches for the bottle, and you give it over wordlessly. Opening it easily, he tosses the cap off into the yard.

“Thanks.” Your voice is soft.

“Yup.” He hands the bottle back to you.

You sit there for a bit, sipping on your beers.

“Who used to live here?” Your voice breaks the silence, low and quiet at the back of your throat.

He peers around, glancing up at the rusty old wind chimes. They hang statically overhead, a wooden angel dangling dejectedly from the center string. There’s hardly a breeze today.

“A couple, I think. Had a kid. They didn’t last.”

You pivot your head towards him, a hardness to your stare.

“They moved.” He raises a brow. “Christ, girl. Lookin’ at me like I’m some kinda animal.”

The silence resumes. This time, he’s the one to break it, clearing his throat.

“Whatchu doin’ out here, anyway?”

“I like it here.” You mumble. “It’s peaceful.”

He’s always thought that was a strange way to describe dead things, but he’ll indulge you today.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Sinclair.”

You let out a humorless laugh.

“Thought you’d like that.” You raise the bottle to your lips. When you speak again, there’s a sharp edge to your voice. “People trust a family man a lot more than a bachelor.”

“Got me a little actress.” He chuckles. “How many kids you say we have?”

“Twins.” You sigh, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

“Runs in the family.”

“Which side?” You murmur.

“Father’s.” He leans forward, trying to catch your eye.

“Mmm.” You say tonelessly, staring off into the yard.

“You kept those folks occupied for a while.” He states, his voice tinged with begrudging pride. “How you swing that? Thought all that noise would set ‘em off.”

“It almost did.” You take a deep swig of the beer, wincing a bit at the taste. “I just…told them I had two boys running around, so they shouldn’t mind any noises they heard. Said they're fine when they're loud. It's when they get all quiet that you have to worry."

“They buy that?” He arches a brow.

“I guess.” You shrug. “Said they were grounded and pissed.”

“Grounded for what?”

“Oh, uh—” You rub at your temple, squeezing your eyes shut. “I caught them in your shop, messing around. All covered in grease, digging through daddy’s tools.”

“Breakin' shit?”

“I was thinking finger painting in motor oil, but yeah, that works.”

“Little shits.” He lets out a low whistle.

The flicker of a smile teases at the corner of your mouth. It’s gone as fast as it comes. Figures that you don’t want to give it to him yet. You’re a selfish little thing. He takes another pull of the beer, remembering the sound you made when you plunged the knife in.

He’d faltered a bit on purpose back there. Let one of them get the upper hand, just long enough for you to notice. He’d gone down on the floor, hands wrapped around his throat. It wasn’t tight enough to hold him, but you didn’t need to know that. Your eyes were wide and glassy with panic when you’d picked up the knife. It was the same one you’d used to carve the meat out and portion it onto the plates.

When it came down to it, there were two men in the kitchen that afternoon.

One rack of knives and you picked the sharpest one.

He was always giving you choices.

If something loves you, let it go. If it comes back, it comes back with blood on its hands. Somebody had said that once. Probably.

“Pot roast was a nice touch.” He remarks. “Had some of it. Shame most of it ended up on the ground.”

“Can’t believe you could eat after that.” You breathe out.

“Works up an appetite.”

You go quiet next to him. He glances over to find you staring intently down at your shoes, your brow furrowed. There’s blood speckling the toe of your sneakers. He watches as you lean down and begin undoing the laces, pulling them off. Tugging your socks off with a tight exhale, you stuff them into your shoes. With a sigh, you toss them unceremoniously off the porch steps, letting them land messily in the grass.

“You gonna make it?” He knocks his knee against yours.

“Don’t know. Are you?” You reply back tartly. “Mr. Sinclair?”

“Well.” He deliberates for a second, pursing his lips. “That depends on you, baby.”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice is brittle.

“You either know or you don’t.” He shrugs.

You let out a breathy laugh, your mouth working into an open-mouthed grimace. For the first time this afternoon, he sees the shimmer of tears in your eyes. Throwing your head back, you down the rest of your beer. A bit of it spills out of your mouth. You swipe your hand across your lips, rubbing at them for too long, too hard.

When you turn your head to look at him, the tears are gone. They’re just another thing you aren’t giving him today.

“Guess so.” You place the empty bottle down on the stoop with a pointed thud. “Can I get another one of these?”

“Yes ma’am.”

A small collection of bottles has gathered on the porch, brown glass glinting in the warm afternoon light. Out in the yard, you’re standing with your back to him. Hands on your hips, you peer into the kiddie pool. He leans back on his elbows, his eyes tracing up your figure.

“There’s water in this.” You announce, your voice oddly serious.

“Oh yeah?” He calls over. “You gonna jump in?”

You spin on your heel, wobbling a bit. He watches you steady yourself, straightening your neck to fix him with a incredulous expression.

“No. Way.”

“Look at’chu, bein’ all smart.” He smirks. “You a little drunk, girl?”

“Nope.” The word lengthens in your mouth, pops.

“Uh-huh.” He nods, letting his eyes fall closed.

“Bo?” He opens his eyes to find you beckoning him forward excitedly. “Come see!”

He shakes his head. You shoot him a pleading expression. Frowning, he drums his fingers on the wood. Despite his better judgment, he raises himself off the stoop. He’s a bit drunker than he thought he was. Slowly, he makes his way across the yard. You beam up at him when he reaches you, pointing at the pool.

The two of you stand in silence next to each other, peering down into the grimy swill of water. Clumps of scraggly vegetation burst out from the sludge. A gum wrapper bobs dejectedly on the surface, its cheerful neon wrapper covered in muck.

“What am I lookin’ at?” He asks dryly.

“The water.” You exclaim. “There’s…organisms…growing in it.”

“Organisms, huh?” He chews at the inside of his mouth, biting back a laugh.

“Yeah.” You bat your lashes up at him. “I dare you to go in.”

“Don’t know ‘bout that, girl. That water’s lookin’ mighty deep.”

“It’s not deep at all.” You scoff, not registering the sarcasm in his tone. “It’s like…the shallows at a beach.”

“That don’t mean anythin’ too me. Never been to a beach.”

“Never?!” You gape at him, blinking.

“You see any beaches ‘round here, girl?”

“Wait.” He watches as you tilt your head, your eyes narrowing. A flash of realization steals over your face. “Can you swim?”

He debates lying to you, but the liquor in his system answers for him.

“No.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth curving into a surprised grin.

“You done makin’ fun of me?” He grumbles.

“I’m not. Promise.” Your eyes twinkle. Drunk, you’re not very convincing. “Hey. You know what? I’ll teach you.”

“Oh yeah?” He gestures at the kiddie pool. “In that?”

You snort out an inelegant laugh, your nose crinkling. Grabbing onto his arm for support, you wheeze out a string of jittery cackles.

“Real hilarious.” He mutters, jutting his thumb back towards the porch. “You wanna go sit down ‘fore you hurt yourself?”

You let out an indignant huff, but you follow after him. With moderately more effort than usual, you make your way up the steps. Plopping down next to him on the porch, you reach over, tugging playfully at one of the buttons on his shirt.

“Don’t you get hot in this?”

“I’m used to it.” He picks up his beer. “Gives you grit.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” The liquor’s loosening his lips. “You wanna hear a funny story?”

You nod.

“So, gets real hot in the house. Sure you noticed. Always been like that. And I ‘member one day…had to be summer. Just like this. No breeze. And I…” He pinches his tongue between his teeth, searching back in his memory. “I broke this, uh, statue.”

“Why?” You rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Dunno. Ma had it in the hallway, right next to our room. Couldn’t tell ya’ what it was now. But it was an ugly fuckin’ thing.”

“Where’d she get it?”

“Made it, I reckon. She had a buncha that kinda shit, all ‘round the house.” He swirls the beer around in the bottle idly. “It’s not like I wanted to see it every day. And that’s why she put it there, I figure. She was always doin’ shit like that. Used to really piss me off.”

“So you broke it?”

“Not on purpose. I was just tryin’ to move it. But—” He shrugs, raising the bottle back to his lips. “That’s what happened.”

“Did you try to hide it?”

“Didn’t bother. It wasn’t the kinda break you can fix. There’s no gluin’ it back together.” He smiles a bit. “So you wanna know what I did?”

“What?” You pull back to look at him.

“Broke the rest of ‘em.” He breathes out an exasperated laugh. “Every. Single. Fuckin’. One. And Mama comes home, and oh, she’s mad. Bat outta hell.”

You’re quiet, watching his face.

“Downstairs, that’s Vinny’s now, but it wasn’t always.” He clears his throat, smacking his lips. “Used to be a root cellar. We added onto it, over time.”

“Yeah?”

“And she…” He laughs, leaning back on his elbows. “Stuck me down there for a bit. Put somethin’ on top of the hatch. Dunno what it was, but I couldn’t push it open. I was real scared. It’s dark down there and your eyes don’t—uh—they don’t adjust. Least mine didn’t. ‘Cuz there’s nothin’ down there to look at. It’s just those walls, and they’re just dirt.”

You don’t say anything in response. He continues.

“Dunno how many times I tried that door. And I kept feelin’ like there was somethin’ down there. Kept hearin’ things. But nothin’ ever came. Know why? It was just me down there.” His lips curve into a grin. “Wasn’t scared of the dark after that, I’ll tell ya’.”

“How old were you?”

“Eight. Nine.” He shakes his head dismissively. “Old enough to know better.”

You’re silent. When he looks over at you, your mouth has flattened into a thin line.

“What? Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

“That’s awful.”

“Says you, city girl.” He snaps. The concern on your face is making him feel oddly exposed, pinning him under the spotlight of your stare. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t know what the fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Hey—”

“You grew up soft.” He spits out. “Never had to grow a backbone.”

You open your mouth and he cuts you off.

“You gonna tell me I’m wrong?” He glares at you. “Gonna pretend like that ain’t the reason you’re still here?”

“Bo—”

“Leave it.” He nods towards your beer. “It’s gonna be flat by the time you get ‘round to drinkin’ it.”

He’s not sure why he told you that story. It’s not like it had much to do with heat, anyway. Underground, it was cool.

You slowly shift away from him, angling your body back towards the yard. The porch creeks as you move.

The longer the silence drags on, the more it feels as if he can hear it. It’s a shuffling, rustling thing. It’s the type of sound you hear in a dark room, surrounded by wet earth. A sound that isn’t really there. He wrinkles his nose a bit, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth. Dimly, he can feel the slither of the noxious feeling that creeps over him from time to time. It comes on slow, starting as a insistent twitch in his eye. That’s before it begins to crowd around him, turning the taste on his tongue sour and flipping in his stomach.

You’re always tripping him back into old memories. Of course you are. You like dead places like that. You said it yourself. You find peace in all that nothingness.

He glares down at his hands. His goddamn wrists itch. There’s something wrong with you—wrong from the start, wrong in the way you just can’t fix. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.

Beside him, you clear you throat, raising your bottle up so you can peer at the label.

“Bottled in New Orleans.” You read out. “Have you ever been out there?”

He furrows his brow. Your question has sent his brain tunneling away from his thoughts. He wants to be irritated at you for that, but the soft buzz of alcohol is making that difficult.

“Yeah.” He grunts, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “Played football in high school. We had a game out there. Grew up, went back. Been there a couple times.”

“What’s it like?” You chirp.

“It’s a city.” He shrugs. The silence is loosening its hold around his stomach.

You sigh, displeased with his answer. Setting your beer down on the bottom step, you fidget with your hands. Tentatively, you bump your leg against his. He glances down at you. Grudgingly, he claps his hand down on your knee. Emboldened by his vague acceptance of your affection, you scoot closer. He stretches his legs out as you lower yourself down, laying your head on his lap.

“Is it nice there?” You look up at him, your hair spilling over his thighs.

“If you like that kinda place, yeah. Sure.” He wraps his hand around your throat lazily, enjoying the even feel of your pulse against his skin. “Food’s good, music’s what you’d expect.”

“I heard it’s haunted.”

“Didn’t see no ghosts. Ya’ know what I did see? Bunch’a drunk idiots.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Was one for a couple weeks.”

“Really.” You giggle a bit. “Will you take me there?”

“Sure.” He huffs out a laugh. “Bring the kids, get the vows renewed.”

“Good.” You say, grinning up at him. “I want a beignet.”

Your blatant mispronunciation has a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll getcha one.”

“You promise?” You fix him with a surprisingly earnest expression.

He can promise you something now, even if he doesn’t mean to keep it. Dulled under the haze of alcohol, his thoughts are dizzy, impossible things.

“Yeah.”

He runs his thumb along the column of your neck and your eyes flutter shut. There’s a bruise against your throat. Taking another sip of beer, he circles it with his finger.

“I give ya’ this?”

“Yeah?” Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him quizzically. “Who else would?”

“Dunno. Figured it was from one of your New Orleans boys.”

“Well, you haven’t taken me there yet, so…it can’t be.” You roll your eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I haven’t met any yet. It’s always just you.”

“Lots’a attitude today. Don’t think I deserve that, honey.”

He’s sobered up some by the time the two of you make it off the porch and into the house. Not by much, but enough that he’s steady on his feet. He can’t exactly say the same for you.

In the kitchen, you flip through a tattered telephone directory, gazing down at the faded print. He comes up behind you, resting his hand on the small of your back. Exterminators, landscaping, law offices. You turn another page and pause. The House of Wax looms in a full-page spread. Printed in black-and-white, it looks larger than life, its doors flung open in invitation.

Bring the whole family! Fun for all ages!

“There it is.” You say softly, tapping at the paper.

“Huh. Must’a been when they were still payin’ for ad-space. 80-somethin’—” He pats at his pockets, his brow scrunching. “Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“Didn’t bring any smokes.”

Your eyes widen and you jolt up.

“The fuck’s the matter with you?” He frowns.

“I, um, I got these off one of the guys from earlier.” You reach behind you. “They’re your favorite and I—”

Eyes alight, you brandish a box of cigarettes in front of him. They’re Marlboro’s, a bit crumpled from being sat on, but otherwise intact. He plucks them out of your palm, turning the box over in his hands. Flecks of dried blood speckle the label.

When he looks up at you, you’re shifting a bit back and forth on your feet, blinking up at him. He flips the lid open, taking a cigarette out.

“Well, ain’tchu all peaches and cream.” Walking over to a dusty table, he pulls a chair out. Dragging it along the tile, he angles it to face you. Sitting down, he fishes his lighter out of his pocket and offers it to you. “You wanna come light this for me?”

You nod, quickly bridging the gap between the two of you. He rests the cigarette between his lips, watching as you raise the lighter up. After a moment, the flame catches. He lifts his hand, inhaling a mouthful of smoke. Resting the cigarette between his fingers, he glances up at you.

“Put that on the table and c’mere.”

Pulling you down onto his lap, he takes another drag of the cigarette. He slips his hand under your tank top, pushing the hem up to wrap his fingers around your waist. Your skin feels softer today, warmer—he’s not sure if that’s the alcohol muddying his head, but he likes the way it feels under his hand. You hum in contentment, leaning forward to press your lips to his brow, trailing kisses down his nose.

“You wanna tell me what you want?” He asks.

“I don’t…want anything.” You pull back to look at him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Nothin’ at all?” He watches you intently.

“…No.”

“Gettin’ me shit. Kissin’ me like that.” He sighs. “You’re tryin’ to make me sweet on you. It ain’t gonna work.”

“I’m not!” You exclaim, eyes wide with surprise. You drop your voice to a hushed murmur, your eyes flickering down his face and landing on his lips. “Anyway, I don’t want you sweet.”

“You don’t?” He arches a brow, flashing you a bemused smile.

You shake your head slowly, humming out a low sound of dissent.

“Don’t want me treatin’ you nice, huh?” He teases. “Looks like we’re learnin’ all kinds of things about each other today. You wanna tell me what you do like?”

“You.” You don’t miss a beat.

“Uh-huh.” He smirks. “That so?”

“I would’ve gone to your football game.” You blurt out suddenly. “I wanna see you play. I bet you were good.”

“Depends who you ask.”

You play with the neckline of his shirt, dipping your fingers underneath it to stroke at his collarbone. He watches as you fiddle with the buttons on his overshirt, scrunching your brow up in concentration. Halfway down, your fingers worry uselessly at the fabric. You pinch your lips into a pursed frown, peering intently at the machinations of the button-down.

“Need some help there?”

You nod gratefully, dropping your hands from his shirt.

“Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you.” He laughs. “You don’t know which way’s up, angel.”

“I know a lot of things.” You announce.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like…I can’t be that drunk. Because you had the same amount as me.” You widen your eyes at him, your pupils blown out from the alcohol. “And you’re fine.”

“I had more.” He snorts. “Not my fault you can’t handle your liquor.”

“Is that bad?” Your lips twist into a frown.

“You tell me, baby. You feel good?”

You smile at him, giving a small bob of your head in reply.

“Hold this.” He extends the cigarette to you.

He leans back in the chair, unbuttoning the rest of his overshirt. Shrugging it off, he watches as you raise the cigarette to your lips. He indulges you for a minute, resting back in the chair as you blow out a wispy curl of smoke. Reaching forward, he snatches the cigarette out of your hand.

“I was gonna finish that.” You protest. Flicking it onto the floor, he crushes it under the heel of his boot.

“Ain’t lettin’ ya’.” He shakes his head. “It’s a bad habit, baby.”

You open your mouth to argue and he shushes you. Cupping his hand against the back of your neck, he pulls your face towards his. Your mouth tastes like smoke when he kisses you. You run your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders.

You’re bold in a way you never are when you’re sober, all hazy and loosened up in his lap. You tug at his bottom lip softly with your teeth when you pull back from the kiss, rocking your hips against him. He raises his hand to your lips, easing your mouth open with his thumb. You lick at the pad of his finger, curving your tongue around it. Reaching up, you wrap your hand around his wrist, swallowing your lips around the tip of his thumb.

“Could get you to do anythin’.” He mutters, watching your eyes fall closed as you suck on it. “Goddamnit, girl.”

He pulls you in again, kissing the side of your face. Your skin tastes like summer, the shimmer of sweat from the sun on your cheek. You’re warm and sweet and close and he’d like more of that on his tongue.

“Think you can make it upstairs?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You smile. “I’m really not that drunk.”

“Sure, baby.”

Up in the bedroom, you lean your back against the faded wallpaper.

Golden rays pierce through the smudged windows, casting long beams of light onto the hardwood floor. When he pulls at the latches, they crack open with a showering of dust. Throwing off the blanket that covers the bed, he tosses it to onto the ground. Sitting down on the edge of it, he undoes the laces of his boots. Setting them on the floor, he inclines his head toward your jeans.

“Take ‘em off.”

You give him a lopsided smile as you work the denim down your hips. He pushes himself back, tucking a stack of pillows behind his head. You step out of your pants, kicking them to the side.

“C’mere.”

If you were sober, he might have a harder time coaxing you onto the bed. As it stands, though, you climb on without protest. He watches as you undo his belt, fidgeting with the fly of his jeans. He lets you pull him out of his boxers, trailing your fingers up his cock. It’s only when you move to dip your head down that he taps at your knee.

“Up here, baby.” He motions at you.

You look up at him in confusion. Scooting forward slowly, you watch his face.

“Turn around.”

You bite into your bottom lip and worry with the flesh there. Hesitantly, you turn. Without warning, he pulls you on top of him. You let out a muffled sound of surprise as he readjusts himself a bit, tugging your legs higher. You brace your hands on either side of his thighs, craning your head back to try to look at him.

“What are you—” He drops a kiss on your pussy through the cotton.

“Can taste you through these.” He rumbles out, his mouth pressed against the fabric. “Wet all the way through.”

Despite the warmth of the room, your skin prickles with goosebumps. You let out a shaky breath as he slides his hands up your thighs. You’re so still on top of him, hands flexing against his jeans. He reaches up and eases your panties off, letting them slip down your legs. His eyes slide down to your pussy, the shine of wetness obvious between your folds. He doesn’t touch you yet, pulling your legs further apart to get a better look.

“All this just from kissin’?” Raising his mouth up, he ghosts his breath along your sensitive flesh. “Oh, darlin’.”

He feels you shift slightly, your breath hitching in anticipation. He nudges at your clit with his bottom lip and you gasp.

“Hey, listen to me. I want you to do somethin’ for me.”

“Anything.” The word falls from your lips instantaneously.

“Don’t you cum til’ I say. You feel it, you hold it. You hear me, girl?”

“Yes.” Your voice wafts up to him, shaky and uneven.

“Yes, what?” He grunts when he feels your hand wrap around the base of his cock.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Get your mouth ‘round that dick.”

Your hand strokes up his cock as you lick a broad stripe along the side. Pulling you down onto his mouth, he grazes over your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Tipping his chin up, he rounds his lips around it in an open-mouthed kiss. You freeze, your hands stilling and your mouth going slack. Your breathing is uneven, your lips hovering over the head of his cock.

“You forget how to suck dick?” He pulls back, flicking sharply at your thigh with his index finger. “Keep goin’.”

You drag your tongue around the head of his cock in messy spirals, lapping at the slit with tiny, careful flicks. Bobbing your head, you work your tongue up and down the veins.

You let out a yelp when he strokes his fingers between your legs, prodding at your entrance. He sinks a finger into you, and you give way easily around him. You arch back gratefully, your moan a dizzying vibration against his cock. When you swirl your tongue up his cock, he adds another finger, curling them inside you. He pumps his fingers into you, feeling your walls clench tightly around them. With a soft mewl, you raise your mouth off his cock.

“You’re gettin’ distracted, darlin’.” He murmurs. “Stay focused.”

“I’m trying.” You whine against his skin.

“Not hard enough.” He smirks, squeezing at the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Daddy…”

“It’d be a real shame to leave you like this, baby.” He muses. “Figure you wanna cum, huh?”

You keen out your agreement, your breath hot against his skin.

“But you can’t get somethin’ for nothin’.” He sighs, pulling his fingers out of you. “You gotta put the work in, darlin’.”

He feels your body shake as you nod, taking him back into your mouth with a moan. Your lips close around him, and he lets out a sharp exhale through his nose.

“Now there’s my girl.”

He flattens his tongue against you, licking up your pussy in long, lazy sweeps. Slowly, he drags his tongue onto your clit, lapping against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You tremble on top of him, bowing your head to take him deeper. All those little noises you’re making are vibrating back on his cock, making him pulse hungrily in the wet clasp of your mouth.

Once again, you lose the rhythm you’ve set, your lips falling open. He chuckles, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“What am I gonna do with you, baby…” Leaning his head back, he reaches up to drag his thumb through your folds, playing with the wetness there. You gasp, your hand trembling around his cock. “Ya’ know, if I didn’t know better, I’d figure you were ‘bout to cum.”

You moan.

“But you wouldn’t, not when I told ya’ to hold it, right?”

“Daddy, please.” Your voice is strained. The desperate edge to your voice has his cock twitching, heat building in his belly.

“Always wantin’ somethin’.” He murmurs. “Little slut.”

You aren’t going anywhere, not with all that blood on your hands. He dips his tongue into you, running his hand up your thigh. You hate him half the time and you hate the killing more. But that’s what makes you like this, leaves you wet and begging and his. You rock back on his tongue, your moan garbled around his cock.

You only hate things that are part of you. You inhale enough smoke and it’ll catch up to you eventually. You can’t take that back.

With a choked sob, you raise your head off his cock, high-pitched, stilted cries falling out of your lips. You desperately try to take him back into your mouth, but your lips shake, panting hot and useless against his skin. Poor thing. Your desire to please him can’t ever match that needy hunger between your legs.

You whine when he withdraws his mouth, violent little tremors racking up your legs and making them shake.

“Gotta ask you somethin’.”

You kiss up his cock, a broken cry tipping out of your mouth. It’s a sweet gesture, a pretty apology. He’ll forgive you, but he won’t tell you that—it’ll mean less if you know. He rubs at your clit with his thumb, watching you twitch helplessly under his finger.

“You like killin’ for me?” He asks. You tremble, whimpering against his thigh. “Like the way it feels? It make you wet?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

“Then you can cum, baby.” He says, tugging you close again. “You earned it.”

He seals his mouth around your clit and you’re thanking him for it, over and over again. You’re summer on his tongue, salt and skin and that edge of sweetness you only give him when you think he isn’t paying attention. You tense up on top of him, pressing back onto his mouth with a pitched sob. You shudder with a full-body shiver as you cum, the air filling with your moans.

Still shaking, you lean forward to wrap your lips around him with renewed fervor. He grits his teeth. He’s close, closer than he thought, the warmth of your mouth dragging him wildly towards the edge.

“Just like that.” He bites out, digging his fingers tightly into your thighs. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

You’re wet, you’re in his mouth, you’re stealing cigarettes off a dead man. He’ll take you to the city with a wallet full of bloodstained cash and you’ll sit on his lap in a bar.

“Goddamnit, girl.” He groans, his jaw tensing up. His hips buck up and you gag, spit dribbling down his cock. You take him deep as he spills in your mouth, swallowing your lips around the base. He grits his teeth as the pleasure rolls through him, dribbling out of him onto your tongue.

Even as the sensation begins to ebb, you keep him in your mouth, gently sucking around his softening prick. Milking out the rest of his cum, your hands stroke up and down his thighs.

He swallows roughly, wetting his lips. They taste like you.

“That’s good, baby.” He breathes.

You lift your mouth off of him with a satisfied sigh, dropping kisses along his length. With shaky hands, you reach back and pull your panties back into place. Climbing off him gingerly, you turn to face him. You’re starry-eyed and weak, wiping drool off your chin. He opens his arms a bit and you lower yourself down into them.

The sun is slipping away now, hanging low in the sky. He watches the dust motes bounce in the pale gold light. You nuzzle into the crook of his arm, your breathing slow and rhythmic beside him. He’s almost sure you’ve fallen asleep when you raise your head off his chest.

“Did you mean it?” Your expression is pensive.

He could ask you the same thing.

“What?”

“About New Orleans.”

“Yeah.” He laughs, shaking his head. “You get in the truck, I’ll take you right now.”

“You’re not supposed to drink and drive.” You yawn.

"Course, ‘cuz we’re law abidin’ citizens. How’s tomorrow sound?”

Tomorrow, he’d take you back to the house and the days would begin again. There was work to do in the morning, wakes to visit, more glass to sweep up. Sometimes you ask him questions just to see what he’ll say. He never knows what you want him to tell you.

“I’d like that.” You shoot him a tired smile.

It was a nice dream. There wasn’t enough gas in the tank, though. Not enough to get much of anywhere.

“You got it, then.”

#he shouldn't have worn the stupid hat if he was not prepared 4 this #if ur willing to talk the talk. u better be ready 2 walk the walk.#ILY MEG I HOPE U LIKE THIS MWAH MWAH MWAH #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #x reader #my fics

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simpingcowboy · 1 year

Text

Love Will Abide

Pairing: Bill x Frank (TLOU) ft. brief interlude of Tess and bisexual!Joel

Word Count: 4K (exactly!!)

Warning: mix of fluff and heavy Angst! Discussions of homophobia, AIDs epidemic, coming out, being in the closet, toxic masculinity, losing loved ones and passing reference to sex

Summary: The story of Lincoln, Massachusetts's first pride 🌈

A/N: Happy Pride!!! These two deserve to celebrate Pride most of all, so they're getting it here. RIP Bill and Frank, they would've loved "Padam Padam" by Kylie Minogue

The two men sat together on the old wooden porch. The sun sets slowly before them. The summertime brings with it extended days together. Frank's head rests against Bill's shoulder as he gleams in the light of dusk.

"Bill? What day is it?" He asks curiously, knowing they must be nearing the summer solstice.

"June thirtenth." Bill answers, remembering the day from the wooden calendar on his bedside table. "About eight days from the solstice."

Frank smiles, "June huh?"

"Peak of summer. Some of our crops should be ready soon. Rhubarb…oh the snap peas…"

Bill continues on, excitedly rambling about their crops and what kinds of dishes he can make with them. Frank is only half listening. Memories of June returning to him. He recalls floats and parades. Bodies filling the streets. Pride flags waving in the air. He remembers his elders, telling him of the first Prides before there were ever more "official" ones. Of riots. Of protests. He was just a kid then, but he remembers.

Remembers the look of horror on his mother's face when two men beside them kissed in the grocery store. The way she covered his eyes as if the sight alone would have turned him gay; though of course it was much too late for that. Then to his first pride out, with his mother by his side. The same woman who nearly fainted when she caught her only son with a boy was proudly standing beside him, a sign reading "Silence=Death" in hand. As they marched together at Pride, standing up against the AIDS epidemic. Walking in memory of all his friends that had come and gone. Frank thinks of how many more friends he'd lost before the worst was over…and how many more were likely gone now.

"Frank? Are you even listening to me?" Bill huffs, breaking Frank's train of thought.

"Hmm? No- I'm sorry I-"

"Strawberry rhubarb pie! We can make it this year!" Bill exclaims excitedly.

"Bill…have you ever celebrated Pride?" The older man interrupts.

"What- did you even hear what I just said? The pie-" Bill responses offended.

"Yes, strawberry rhubarb pie like your mother used to make, I would absolutely adore making it with you! Now-" his hand finds his lovers, encasing his around Bill's "have you ever celebrated Pride?"

The younger man's face softens, an eyebrow ticked up in a quiet curiosity. "What like…the rainbows and parades and stuff?"

Frank can't help but chuckle, "A bit more than that but yeah more or less."

Bill fidgets with his hands, tucking them into his lap. "...No." Blue eyes falling to his feet. "We didn't do any of that out here."

"And you never did anything?" Frank asks, his voice as soft as the hand that touches Bill's cheek. "Not even for yourself?"

"Didn't know…it was anything to be proud of."

"Bill-"

"I don't mean-"

"No." Frank stops him, fingers brushing over the other man's beard. "I know what you mean." He says with a soft smile. "You know…we could celebrate now?"

Bill's eyebrows pinch together, a small pout on his face. He's tailoring his excitement. "Yeah?"

Frank can't hide the smile at his partner's interest. "Yeah, of course we can!" He chuckles, leaning in to deliver a soft kiss to the other man's cheek. "Town's ours isn't it?"

"Sure is…" Bill smiles back.

Frank had lots to do. It was decided that he would do the entirety of the set up, allowing Bill to enjoy the element of surprise, and granting Frank freedom from his beloved's "resource management" lectures. Perhaps it was some long lost vigor in him, or excitement to be a part of Bill's first pride, but Frank finished it at an ungodly pace. It took all of ten days for him to pull it together. It was all perfect.

The morning of Frank rises before dawn. Sneaking out of bed to open air where he prepares everything needed for Pride. Heading back inside, he works on making the perfect breakfast for his love. Like magic, Frank appears in the doorway of their shared bedroom just as Bill's alarm rings.

"Happy Pride!" He shouts happily, breakfast tray in hand.

Bill is not as quick to pick up on the enthusiasm. His blue eyes are still straining against the morning light. "Hmm- Frank what?"

"It's Pride!" The older man plops himself down on the bed, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Today’s the day! We're having our first Pride!"

Bill's brain slowly comes together, "Yeah…our first Pride." He offers his lover a soft sleepy smile.

"Gonna be the best Pride you've ever seen! Now eat up, we've got a big day ahead of us!"

The morning passes easily, the seasoned couple going through their usual routine. Wake, eat, feed the chickens, shower, get dressed. As they approach the front door to begin their day, Frank pauses. “Wait! I’ve got something.” With a big smile he pulls from his pocket two small wooden rainbow flag pins. “Tada!” A goofy grin on his face as he fixes one to Bill’s flannel shirt. The other flag taking its place on his own shirt. “Now we’re ready.” Clearing his throat, Frank readies to make his announcement. “Fair citizens of Lincoln, Massachusetts! It is my honor and privilege to welcome you to Lincoln’s first ever Pride!”

With that, the door swings open. The smile on Bill’s face is morphed into one of pure awe. The sight before him fulfilling something he never knew he wanted. Wooden pallets painted rainbow stand in for flags. Covering the yard, and even visible along the street. Looking out he sees a banner, stretched between the missing neighbor’s house and shed that reads “Lincoln Pride!” Hearts in the pride flag colors surrounding the letters. Bill’s eyes are bright. A smile lingering on his face far longer than usual.

“Frank- how did you? I mean-”

“Step outside.” Frank smiles in admiration, suddenly wondering why he didn’t do this sooner.

Bill hesitates, just a moment his heart beating in his chest. As he steps through the non-lethal tripwire, a sudden burst of music greets his ears.

~Im…Coming…Out!~

Bill doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry as Diana Ross’s “I’m Coming Out” plays over a set of speakers. Frank decides for him, a hearty laugh escaping from his lips.

“I couldn’t help myself!”

"How did you- Where did you get that?" Bill joins in the laughter.

"From the neighbors!" Frank smiles back, rolling his eyes when Bill's expression changes to one of disapproval. "I'm borrowing it!" He says defensively. "Come on!" He continues on, pulling Bill out to the front yard.

Bill feels his heart beat like it's never beat before. The multitude of bright colors infiltrating his perfectly union town, brings about an unprecedented feeling. Something that feels a lot like love. He finds himself running in circles, admiring the decorations. Looking down the street to get a glimpse of what lies ahead of him. His heart erupts with joy at the display. A hand traces up his shirt to find the homemade pin, caressing it in one hand, holding Frank's hand in the other. And for the first time in his forty-some years of life, he feels so entirely seen.

"Frank- it's I- you did all this?" Bill beans up at his boyfriend.

"It's not much, but-"

For Frank it's simple, just the pallets and banners that he managed to put along the town. A couple of hand picked songs, courtesy of Bill's old neighbors. The ancient relics of Madonna, Tina Turner, George Micheal, ABBA, Kylie Minogue, and Linda Ronstadt being dug up for the big day. Far from the extravagant afars he once experienced before the outbreak.

Bill cuts him off with a kiss, "Frank. It's perfect."

His cheeks go warm, every internal critique disappears in an instant. "I love you."

Bill just responds with a chuckle, "Sap." Before running off to get a closer look at the banner.

Frank rolls his eyes at the light-hearted insult, trying to pull himself together.

A part of him wishes Bill could have seen it. The grand displays of love and acceptance. Could have seen just how many people would have loved him, just the way he is. There's little doubt in Frank's mind that Bill would have been quite popular in a lot of circles. The thought makes him glow with pride, thinking about how this beautiful man was all his. Even through the end of the world, he managed to be the luckiest man alive.

"The whole town done up like this?" Bill asks, snapping Frank from his train of thought.

"Most of it." He responds proudly.

Bill shuffles excitedly, looking like he's about to bound off towards the town center. "Can we?"

"Not yet-" Frank smiles, inching over towards the garage. "I have one more tiny surprise."

"Well! what is it?" Bill asks in an excited impatience.

"Close your eyes."

"But-" Bill pouts.

"Not buts! Just do it. Please?" Frank asks with a pout of his own.

The younger man huffs but does what he's asked, closing his eyes. The faint sound of a garage opening is heard. Then something- the rumble of wheels on pavement. The soft creak of wood. Hands come up over his from behind, slowly pulling them away from his eyes.

"You can look now…" Frank whispers.

Like magic, a float appears. Six feet long, four feet wide. A white covering, with “Lincoln Pride 2013” painted along the sides. A small blue ottoman propped in the middle for sitting. In the front, a boombox is attached, as well as a pulley. The back of the float is Frank’s most impressive creation. A rainbow arch of chicken wire and tissue paper standing proudly on the back; easily standing six feet tall.

Bill’s eyes are wide as he takes it in just as awestruck as when he first left the house this morning. “Frank- you?” His head snaps, spinning to look at his lover. Eyes cutting between Frank and the float. “You made this?” Bill finishes his question nearly toppling over with excitement.

Frank is beaming with joy at Bill’s reaction. “I’ve made a float or two in my day.” He says with a shrug trying to play it cool. “Do you like it?”

“I…I-” Bill bursts into a fit of giggles. Hands flying up to his chest in excitement. Wordlessly he scuttles over to it. Staring at the float with admiration. Looking back at Frank he asks, "Can I?"

Frank nodding is all it takes for Bill to hop on. Though he's just a few inches off the ground, he feels on top of the world. While he's busy exploring, Frank takes the opportunity to circle to the front and turn on the boombox. One of Bill's favorite albums is already set to play, Kylie Minogue's Fever. The crescendoing music grabs Bill's attention. His expression going all soft as "Love At First Sight '' begins playing over the boombox.

"Oh Frank-" he pouts.

With the pulley in hand ready to kick off the parade, Frank asks, "You ready for the rest of it?"

Bill smiles back, "Yes." He says sitting upon the blue ottoman. "I'm ready!"

They set off, Frank pulling the float behind him. Bill can't help but dance in his place on the float. Frank spins around to watch his lover, looking more carefree than he's been in the past 5 years together. Big smiles plastered on each of their faces as they began to sing along.

"Then there was you!" Frank sings first, horribly off-key

Bill takes the next line bashfully, "And everything went from wrong to right…"

"And the stars came up and filled up the sky!" Frank continued, encouraging him.

"The music you were playing really blew my mind!"

"It was love-"

"At first sight!" They finish the line together, laughing at each other. Embracing the joy they found together, and relishing in the absurdity of their position. How somehow, in this abandoned town, amidst a life-altering outbreak, they'd found everything they ever needed.

There's silence at the gate. Joel and Tess standing, a bit oblivious to the sight set before them. Unsure what to make of the unusual display of joy on Bill's behalf. Both uncertain if they've ever even seen the man smile before. Let alone what to make of the grandiose decorations covering the town.

“Do you think they forgot?” Joel asks.

“No…Bill’s never forgotten our drop-off dates.” Tess replies, squinting so as to ensure she wasn't imagining things. “I think…they just had other priorities.” They watch, for a moment as Frank pulls Bill in the makeshift float. Their joy radiating through the distance between them. A pang of jealousy hitting Tess at the obvious love the two men hold for each other. “Come on Joel, let’s head back to QZ.”

Joel scoffs, hands coming up on his hips. “Came all this way for nothing…”

“It’s fine, Joel. They’ve always been good to us. We can let it slide.”

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t carry the wire all this way.” He huffs, looking at Tess and back at Bill and Frank. As he steps forward towards the gate, Tess stops him.

“Joel…” she says lowly, “This isn’t for us.”

He pauses, an eyebrow quirked up as he looks at her. “Not for you maybe.”

Tess just stares at him, eyes going a little wide. Obviously not having expected him to say that. “I- you? We?”

To her confusion, he just shrugs. “I’ve been around.” Joel rolls his eyes at Tess’s continued silence. “Hey” he says, nudging her on the shoulder, “never stopped me from being into you.”

"Well, no but-"

The gruff man hikes the heavy backpack up higher on his back. “Come on. Let’s go.” He says, turning on his heels back to QZ.

The day was pure magic. Bill running around his hometown totally enamored, as if it were someplace totally new. Frank reaping the brilliant reward of his labor, getting to see his boyfriend glimmer with joy. The parade marches through the day, stopping for lunch at home. Where Bill improvises a "pride-themed lunch" by making the most colorful salads he could manage. The sun sets slowly, light stretching long over the small Massucheuttes town. As night encroaches on their celebration Frank decides it’s time to bring Bill to his final surprise.

Frank pulls his love behind him on the float. Though it was technically his turn to be pulled, Frank insisted that the location be a secret! The ride is slow, the parade taking a leisurely pace. Bill anxiously twiddles his thumbs from his seat on the float; his mind racing with ideas of what the surprise would be. Eventually they stop, Bill turns his head to see the wine shop. He notes how much better it looks since Frank had been fixing it up. The old barn color was replaced with a fine burgundy color, deep and rich like wine.

“We’re here!” Frank exclaims, practically pulling Bill through the doors of the winery.

Passing through the doors, is a set table. Unlit candles that Frank quickly works to light. Dinner bowls set for two. Cloth napkins and fine silverware. A red tablecloth covered the circular table. Bill’s eyes linger over the display, before landing on Frank’s. A big smile plastered on Frank’s face.

“I know you’re more of a cook than I am but…” Frank begins, rounding the table to Bill’s side. “I thought I’d let you try some of my famous New England chowder.”

Bill just smiles softly, the romantic gesture giving him butterflies. “I’d like that.” He says simply.

“Perfect. Just give me a couple minutes to warm it up and we’ll be set!”

With that Frank bounds off to the small kitchen, making quick work of the dinner he’d prepped the night before. Bill sits eagerly at the table, shuffling in his seat unable to contain his joy. Eventually, Frank returns with the food in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. The pair are quick to dig in, having grown an appetite through the day’s activities. The soup is delicious, and the wine maybe even a little better. Their conversation is light and playful. Frank recounts his fun stories of Pride. His tales grow in exaggeration with each passing minute.

Bill laughs along, intrigued by the experience of his beloved. His face goes soft thinking about just how different it is from his own life and then- a question comes to mind.“Frank?” He asks.

“Yeah?” Frank replies, slurping on his chowder.

“When did you…know? How did you-” Bill gestures outwards with his hands, “You know!”

Frank smiles. “How did I come out?”

The younger man nods.

“Hmm…” He pauses to think, taking a swig of his wine. “I always knew.” He says with a shrug. “There was really never any question. That’s just the way I was.”

“And how did you come out?” Bill asks with the tilt of his head.

The older man laughs, “Well when my mom caught me kissing my ‘study buddy’ that conversation kind of had itself!”

A tinge of red creeps across Bill’s face at the prospect of being caught by his parents in such a way. “Oh…and your dad too?”

Frank grimaces, but then chuckles. “My dad…well my mom thought he’d freak so she told me we’d tell him together. When we finally did, this man had the audacity to look up at me from over his newspaper and then over at my mother and say ‘Was I not supposed to know?” He finishes with a laugh. “So much build up for that! It was ridiculous!”

Bill laughs along, trying not to choke on his wine. As hilarious as the anecdote was, it does bring about some unpleasant memories of his own.

The shift of mood catches Frank’s attention. “Hey…” he says softly, a hand coming over Bill’s to soothe him. “We can change the subject.”

A soft sniffle comes from Bill as he shakes his head. “No. I- I’m happy they accepted you.” He says with a bittersweet smile. “Who wouldn’t love you?”

“Alot of people actually.” He chuckles. “But you love me. And I love you. And we’re still here.” Frank says with a smirk, lifting his wine glass up to toast.

Bill smirks back, feeling boastful about his survival skills. “Yes. Yes, we are.” He raises his wine glass to cheer with Frank’s.

They cheer, each relishing in the taste of fine wine that coats their tongue. Smiling at their shared survival. Both silently thanking the universing for gifting them to each other. Finishing off their glasses- Bill starts again, a certain vigor finding it’s way to his lips. “My dad…he was a big military guy. Air force…and when I was thirteen I tried-” He inhales, his tongue getting tied. “He stopped me. Said that I’d never be a real man if I went down that path. That it was wrong…dirty.” Bill exhales, the memory suddenly feeling a bit lighter, “ So I just…didn’t. Kissed a girl- once. She uhh turns out there were two gay people in town.” An awkward laugh escapes his lips, as he uncomfortably picks at his soup.

"And your mom? Did you ever?"

Bill freezes, his voice quivering slightly. “No…I wanted to I just didn’t know how she’d take it and-”

“I understand Bill.” Frank reassures him.

“She always wanted me to settle down…find someone to love.” His clear blue eyes look up at Frank’s. “I just don’t think this is how she imagined it…”

“Oh Bill…” Frank says softly, rushing over to pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Bill sniffles, trying and failing to hold back the tears. “Ruining the day-”

Frank continues to comfort him. Delivering soft kisses to his tear stained cheek. “Don’t be sorry.” A soft smile on his face as he says, “This is part of pride.” Pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips. “Being who we are…” his hands wrap around Bill’s “Loving who we love despite all the things that say we shouldn’t. Adversity is part of it.” Frank offers him a soft smile. “It’s why we celebrate!”

Bill returns the expression with a pouty smile of his own. “And we’re still here.” He says repeating Frank’s words from earlier.

“And we’re still here.” He repeats, pressing another soft kiss against Bill’s lips. A chuckle spilling from his lips as he takes ahold of the bottle of wine, “Old. Gay. And still here!” he says drinking straight from the bottle.

That’s enough to break Bill from his guilt. A full hearty laugh erupting from him. “Alright that’s enough!” he says grabbing the bottle from his boyfriend, just to steal a swig himself.

“Hey! You need to share!” Frank chastises.

Bill shakes his head, maneuvering out of Frank’s reach. Laughing at the half-hearted fight. They continue on, chasing one another through the winery. Though the store had stood for many years, these would be the first sounds of its kind to be heard here. The thump of footsteps rumbling along the old wooden floors. The heavy boots of the men fall like feathers, light and airy. Laughter echoing through the abandoned hallways. Bill swapping between his high toned giggles and heavy pants. Frank’s laughter is more subdued, but no less heartful; his weak taunts doing little to threaten his opponent. Despite Bill’s steady hand, small droplets of wine escape the bottle, seeping into the wood. Their mark being made. Frank is quick to catch up; his slender arms catching Bill’s waist.

“Oh no you don’t!” Frank says, holding onto Bill tighter as he attempts to make an escape.

Bill just laughs. His resilience rapidly deteriorates when he’s in Frank’s arms. “You win!” He proclaims, letting his head rest back on his lover’s shoulder. “You win…” he repeats, feeling on top of the world.

Frank’s face relaxes as he eases his grip on Bill; eyes tracing his partner’s tranquil expression. “Yeah…I did win.” He smiles, taking his trophy of the wine bottle and hydrating himself from the short run. They rest momentarily, recovering from the physical excursion. Their hearts pounding in time. “The pie.” Frank says abruptly, the day’s itinerary forcing its way to the front of his mind.

“Hmm?” Bill says, only half paying attention to anything being said. He is dealing with something else at the moment.

“I made the pie. Strawberry rhubarb pie-” He is cut off with a kiss by Bill.

“Pie can wait.” Bill insists, leaning deeper into the passionate embrace. Giving himself over to all the desires he wanted, but thought he could never have.

The sun sets over the small town of Lincoln. Bill and Frank wander back home on unsteady feet, holding hands the whole way home. Walking up the public streets, so hopelessly in love with each other. That same love that currently covered the town in rainbow flags and banners. A love strong enough to survive in a world where little did. At home they eat cold pie and carry on light conversation about days past. Reminiscing on their youths and follies. Quick to turn in early, both men exhausted by the day’s events.

As they tuck into bed, Bill feels a tear strike at his eye. He watches dutifully as Frank falls asleep. Observing the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. Admiring just how beautiful of a man Frank really was. That perfectly sculpted nose. Fully shapely beard. Soft age lines etched into his soft skin. And had his eyes been open, sparkling blue eyes. Bill thinks back to what his mother had told him time again. To find someone nice. Kind. Someone he could take care of. Someone who would take care of him. Someone to love. To grow old with. Someone to make the living worthwhile. And as Bill looks over at Frank, he can’t help but remember that his mother never did specify it had to be a woman.

#am writes #bill x frank #bill tlou #frank tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou #the last of us #pride fic #bill the last of us #frank the last of us

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tndn-btg · 3 months

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my bpd and dating pool for years was various genres of bizzare white men that are faux allies i genuinely believe if my life went sightly strayed i would've ended up being a millennials pet nonbinary. like i would've ended up in the world's worst "nobody would assume we're this nasty" cishet couple loop with some 30 somethings and the guy spends all the money on world of warcraft and the lady has a blog about a niche but toxic toy community and runs a small YouTube channel that thrives within the niche. In another time I could've became their little pea or something. But I avoided this somehow

#my shit

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ataraxixx · 1 year

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Hi yes hello I am having so many thoughts about Mr E and Harumi friendship this is your fault /lh

we're in this hell together i think about them so so much horrible evil slightly toxic codependent best friends qpp whatever u wanna call them. extensions of one another at this point bc they have literally seen each other at their worst and Also encouraged each other at their worsts and been completely awful together and to each other and how do you not be bonded for life with someone like that. truly. they are committing war crimes they are petty shoplifting candy bars from a conbini they are literally 2 peas in a pod. i refuse to believe even in canon that harumi does not love mr e because why would she rebuild him... why would his death be the turning point for when she began to doubt garmadon and herself......i just know they were so happy to be together again in crystalized i know when the dust was settled afterwards harumi was already on it trying to fix whatever damage he got from his fight with zane/the billboard. love wins

#ajasks

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cyarskj1899 · 2 years

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Emmett till family i’m so sorry that this goofy broad fixed her face to use compare your relatives tragedy to some nonsense. your entire family deserves better than this

Yall niggas disgust me with this level of dickriding, Emmitt Till was a child! That was tortured and murdered! By Racists who got away with it! Tory is a violent abuser who finally got what he deserved for SHOOTING a woman! He is nothing like Emmitt Till, stfu!

Gurl, I know you did not come on Blue Ivy’s innanet on the eve of Jesus’s Birthday, and compared the late Emmitt Till to this short burned piece of Canadian Bacon named Tory… Have Several pls!

First of all dude is Canadian….. and is not a Black American…… second of all, the disrespect is crazy. Y’all really be on the internet disgracing your or OUR ancestors for some engagement and entertainment. Luckily for me, I could never be a 🦝 nor the type of woman who would throw away my goodness, my integrity my dignity to slut myself out for some punk who ain’t gonna do right by me anyway

Why are we comparing an innocent little boy who was lynched for no reason to an embarrassing man who shot a woman, lied about it , dehumanized her for no reason other than he had a toxic masculinity and violent tendencies because he can’t handle the fact that his music was not that good for anyone to stan him and his only successful song was in a feature with jack harlow and is now facing years in prison?

Some of Y’all will say anything to disrespect Black American history and our ancestors. The audacity of you claiming a CANADIAN gremlin who was rightfully and proven convicted for his crimes against meg thee stallion is equal to Emmett Till shows your lack of knowledge and good sense. Maybe in hindsight George w. Bush no child left behind policy wasn’t the best idea because some children were left behind education wise. Children were deliberately LEFT BEHIND. WHATTT

you need to be hung drawn and quartered for this and afterwards your bones need to be scattered across the street for mongrel dogs to gnaw and crack like Omg y’all going to hell????

The quotes are calling you a pea brained fool, as they should but quite honestly, reading this shocked me because of the sheer disrespect. You misspelled his name and compared a innocent boy whose life was stolen by racists to a man suffering the consequences for his actions. This is why Harriet Tubman had a gun because some of you have ancestors who should have been capped by her

tory lanez ain’t do nothing special for y’all to be defending him like this. Even artists like Chris Brown to Eric Clapton have more high quality music content than that Keebler elf and they’re problematic too. (*Not A defense of the actions of both Brown and Clapton or other hence the “and they’re problematic too “ just so you know) sweetheart He's never going to fuck you. Deal with it

I can’t stand you niggas. i wouldn't even piss or spat on you if you were on fire May the vengeance of the ancestors find you in your sleep.

we will never be free and at this point it’s deserved. We’re surrounded by our worst enemies in the black community and the shackles on our feet will never be released.

a teenage boy who was a victim of violent racism being compared to an ABUSER , harriet shouldn't have gone back for some of y'all ancestors just stay in school!!!!!

#can’t wait to see that sociopath locked up on June 13th.#annnnn boom #just like that #may all who come against black women rot #megan thee stallion #mine #cyarskaren52 #Apr 21 #I’m just glad she’s in a better place now #As always a loud and sincere fuck you to everyone who has doubted her and supported that Canadian cuntery who must not be named #Those people can speak for themselves they know who they are #And they can go straight to hell #They will pay for their crimes #for sucking that abusers meat #She went through unnecessary trauma for two years #That’s unforgivable #Next level fuckery #That that type of ish that would lead to an episode of snapped or deadly women #View post #Don’t fuck with black women #If you can’t love them then at least don’t harm them #can’t wait to see that sociopath locked up on June 13th

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artsychaosbean · 1 year

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I watched a video and it infuriates me

youtube

My issue with the video is this is a mom vs a professional nutritionist. This is another case of a mother who stubbornly thinks she cant possibly be wrong.

I was forced to eat peas and beans, I have autism. I can't handle the texture of peas or beans. I was forced to eat garlic with a garlic allergy.

I was forced to overeat

Many parents not all but MANY parents take a "I know your body best" stance and IGNORE the words of their child. Forcing a kid to eat is just as bad as depriving them of food. and it does cause EDs I went through 2 different eating disorders and my relationship with vegetables and meat has been soured my whole life since I was a child. I have to force myself to eat vegetables and it has to be cooked in specific ways. I don't WANT to be this way and didnt make myself this way. Same with meat, unless its fish I struggle to eat meat even though I love the taste of chicken I was forced to eat so much meat even when full it makes me want to puke.

I developed stomach problems aswell so I cant eat as much anymore and my digestion is messed up. I cant digest beef, pork, brussel sprouts, peppers or beans at all anymore.

So this "Tough love" Mom just comes off ignorant. Shes stuck in that same toxic mind set and keeps talking over the nutritionist who seems like a very polite person. when I was forced to eat food I got an ED that made me have an aversion to food, eating caused me panic attacks. When I was fat shamed despite not eating much bc I did have weight problems even though I ate little, ate healthy and was active, but the result was I started skipping meals and sneakily putting meals back and throwing up. I was starving myself.

Then later on in life I got the opposite end of that eating disorder over being fat shamed and I'd starve myself still at meal times but then guilt binge a bunch of junk food and hide the wrappers and packaging in the garbage, and then guilt starve myself again for eating. it was a vicious cycle.

Some parents do NOT understand that kids aren't just manipulative whiny attention seeking little devils. Which is how they treat their children. STOP EXPECTING THE WORST IN YOUR CHILDREN. COMPROMISE, TALK TO THEM AND TREAT THEM LIKE HUMAN BEINGS.

When you expect the worst in your child and treat them off of that, you cause resentment. When you don't listen to your child even if they never have lied to or manipulated you in their life, you teach them that no one will ever believe them and that affects their self image. When you don't listen to your child on their health, they won't listen to their own body and start ignoring the signs of health complications. That could KILL your child if the psychological damage goes too far. I was ignored on numerous occasions and got injuries from it or ended up almost in the hospital. My mother then turned around and made it all about herself being a victim "IF YOU JUST LISTENED TO ME ABOUT THIS UNRELATED THING A WEEK AGO THIS WOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED" as I sit there with my thighs entirely bruised unable to walk bc I had an injury that got irritated bc she forced me out when I told her I couldn't and warned her my injury would get worse. But bc shes the mother she "Knew best" and didn't take responsibility when I got hurt worse bc she ignored me.

Yknow what that taught me? That I can't TRUST my MOTHER to take care of my physical needs. That I have to take full care of myself. This means as a teen I wouldn't tell her if I was in pain, even when it got to the point where I SHOULD have been hospitalized. Because I no longer TRUSTED her to tell her. bc of HER actions and HER words. TALK TO YOUR CHILDREN. LISTEN TO THEM. DONT TAKE THEIR CONCERNS LIGHTLY. and if your child is being "Picky" consult professionals if no way you cook something works. Because if they complain about texture it very well could be adhd or autism. And if its not, and if they dislike that item regardless of how you cook it. Let it go, find other foods they might like in the same food group. Dont like cauliflower? Try broccoli. Again try it in different recipes dont keep trying the same thing over and over expecting them to just "get used to it" bc maybe its the way you cook it. I hate tomatos cooked for example bc of the heat and texture but I love them raw in a salad. It doesn't mean I dont eat tomatos, it just means I don't like them cooked and thats not that hard to do. And NEVER hide the food from your child. If you do that will also create a negative relationship with food and a distrust in you as a parent which will make them LESS likely to willingly try new things which can impact their relationship with other foods. If they don't like hot dogs, try "pigs in a blanket" But dont HIDE that its hotdogs in it, let them know. Make an agreement with your child to try everything ONCE and to try every new recipe ONCE. but don't pressure them or scream at them even if its frustrating. Yelling at your child just makes it harder on them especially if its autism. As a child who was forced into EVERYTHING and never had a choice. I have now grown into an adult with a lot of self image issues, a bad relationship with two essential food groups, and more triggers for my PTSD and Anxiety. It impacted my mental health and self worth. Im not the only one, I have a group of 12 friends on discord who all went through similar things with the same / similar consequences in their life from the issue. We all have a fear of foods now and we all had eating disorders as children and teens bc of our parents.

#disordered eating mention #trigger warning! Eating disorder #autism #neurodivergence #bad parenting #physical health #picky eating #autism & food #Youtube

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pudgy-planets · 3 months

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The Virgin Gw2 Max Rank Electro Pea and Captain Cannon players Vs. The Chad Gw2 Max Rank Mystic Flower, Captain Flameface, Petrified Cactus, and Toxic Citron players.

I feel like we never shine enough light on the mid-tiers/average/good characters.

Not great and amazing, just those all-round good or even okay characters.

Electro Brainz, Captain Flameface and Sharkbite, Power Flower, Doctor Toxic, Fire Rose, Sun Pharaoh.

Because I don’t think there’s a single "worst" definitive character in the game. They can all work and function on their own. I think Rugby Star might be the weakest all star overall, but I don’t think he’s bad. GW1 Rugby Star is a madness, but he kind of suffered the same issue as Toxic Pea and Paleontologist where the game changed and it affected them negatively.

Same thing with Tennis Star and Moto-X. I’ve played this game for eight years. I had no fucking clue that Moto-X is tied for the second fast character in the game with Breakfast Brainz.

I thought Tennis Star was the fastest because it said so. He doesn’t slow nearly as much as other all stars when firing. But the game never tells you that. Which is why I think back in 2016 when Zombopolis came out, Breakfast Brainz had 175 health because of his faster movement speed. And then they buffed it two hundred like the rest of the superheroes.

That being said, Tennis Star is faster than the other all stars except Moto-X. I don’t know if it’s a glitch, error, or purposely done so. But that’s how it is. Which I don’t mind, since this game isn’t supposed to be taken seriously. When "professionals" claim to know what they’re talking about and what’s ideal, they forget that this game is supposed to be fun.

"The optimal setup for Citron is Damage, Health Regeneration, and Overheat."

See, I use Overheat Penalty because despite my efficiency in managing Overheat, I want to be able to shoot again- It’s more fun for me.

#mun gaming rambles

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automatismoateo · 1 year

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I'm tired of being cast as evil or a Satanist by religious people just for being atheist. via /r/atheism

I'm tired of being cast as evil or a Satanist by religious people just for being atheist. Once upon a time, I didn't care if you were religious. It never mattered because where I grew up, religious people didn't take their religion and smash it into your face like they do in the US. I was born into, and grew up in a family of non-practicing, non-believers. Both my parents were born into catholic and ethnic Jewish traditions, but neither of them carried on any of that stuff, except for baptizing us to keep with convention and for cultural reasons more than anything else. My dad still had some catholic habits but we were never indoctrinated into religion. He often chuckled with us about some of the absurdities of religious practice and talked with us about the many kinds of beliefs as children. The first time I read the Bible I was 14 and in a catholic intern school (my parents dealt with my ADHD-related school issues by changing my school frequently--it was the 80s... they didn't really know what my problem was and blamed the school instead). I thought it was on par with Aesop's fables, except the Bible's fables had concubines being gang raped and chopped up into 12 pieces, infanticide, incest, genocide, murder and slavery as imagery to 'enjoy'. I thought it was horrifying and sat through the bi-weekly services thinking the nuns and priest were plain crazy to live by this text. I was made to kneel on frozen peas several times for asking too many uncomfortable questions. I have since lived my life in altruism and acceptance. I spent years of my career working in non-profits, I donated a year as a VISTA (volunteer in service to America), I have helped displaced homemakers, at risk kids, taught ESL, helped create safe play spaces in poor neighborhoods. I give money to people who need it. I try to be kind to people who deserve kindness and I have raised my son to be compassionate and good too. I have spent my entire life giving back to others. Paying it forward to others. I never once looked at people critically because of who they are or who they worship. But after Obama was elected, it's like the grubbiest, worst human beings crawled out from their little burrows to pupate into full assholes and start screaming hate like toxic cicadas. And I have heard nothing but invective and cruelty from them. I've been threatened with their hell and told I am evil simply for not being indoctrinated into some version of the myriad religions and denominations that exist. Told that my altruism, my hard work, my kindness to others is either weakness or meaningless unless it was given with a heaping side of religion. I'm done being tolerant of this. I'm tired of it. I'm sick of seeing and hearing more and more divisive crap being slung at atheists, aspersions cast upon us for what? Not toeing the line? I'm finished being thoughtful and told to be respectful of mere ideas when they can't be respectful of me as an atheist. I'm starting an atheist group in my area and I intend to be loud and proud about it. I'm not going to be bullied by theists anymore and told that I'm a lesser being for not swallowing their bullshit. I certainly think that as moral creatures, I've proven my worth. I won't have any narcissistic theist belittle that anymore. I'm done taking the "higher" road. Submitted September 07, 2023 at 02:07AM by Feffies_Cottage (From Reddit https://ift.tt/GCRjSa0)

#reddit

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sortanonymous · 10 months

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Set this to clown music... and I mean this man in general. (aka Toxic Pea is the worst Kirby YouTuber)

TW: Discussion involving a bigot, primarily around transphobia (and I mean as soon as the first picture), not to mention many other grim topics.

Look, as big a guilty pleasure as hearing of internet squabbling can be, I never wanted to be the one to actually discuss it myself. But I feel like I just needed to get this one out of my system sooner than later.

So in case you didn't know, Toxic Pea is a Kirby YouTuber who uploads tons of memes and lyrical covers of Kirby songs (never liked the idea of those videos btw). He was quite popular until it was revealed in January of this year that he had said the N-word multiple times on Discord even as he was told that it was a horrible thing to say, not to mention tons of other signs of him being a bigot with, at best, practically no respect for LGBTQ+ people, like for example prefacing videos alluding to gay ships by saying that he hates "gender ideology". Also he keeps making weirdly risque and gross jokes over Elfilin, which combined with his other actions somehow does the impossible in making me hate Elfilin even more. The list goes on, but believe me when I say I am far from the first person aware of this nor the one most affected by it, even if the big well-done thread that outed him has since vanished. I admit that I never really saw all of that coming, but honestly I briefly had bad vibes about him way back last spring when, in the wake of the tragedy in Uvadale, he made a YouTube community post basically saying that atheism was far more responsible for mass shootings than mental health or gun laws, and even when someone made a well-thought out reply with a strong counterpoint who happened to say that they were atheist, he opened his reply to that by basically going, "But God is real lol", and even if I believe he wasn't that rude throughout the response (it's an old post so it's either lost or extremely hard to access now), that frankly strikes me as a really douchey thing to say in a discussion like that. (I'm aware that he lives in Spain, assuming that counts for anything at all.)

When that happened and a ton of Kirby YouTubers understandably shunned him, he put out a classic crappy apology and from there has just spent the year as the most deplorable clown on the Kirby side of YouTube. He made jokes in videos about saying the N-word again, sponsered a trend called "Reclaim June" (take a wild guess how they feel about gay people) and questioned why anyone would be proud of being gay or trans, whined about his downfall and his peers disowning him through the classic "I'vE bEeN cAnCeLlEd!!!" talk, became Fortnite buddies with Mirth and defended her with some insufferable "JeSuS fOrGiVeS hEr FoR cReEpInG oN kIdS!!!" bs, and a month ago, after getting torched for using an old meme involving someone who distanced themself from him without their permission, went on a truly baffling, borderline drunk-sounding ramble of a Community Post that included claiming that all of his moments of xenophobia were faked, trying to indoctrinate people into Catholicism (he's that kind of guy as far as using his religion to excuse being such a turd), and randomly saying at the end that he was making a Kirby movie (he's like the fakest Kirby fan ever off his bigotry alone but whatever). (I should mention that he has said multiple times that he is bisexual, and it seems genuine to me. He's even hinted at taking shame in it over his religion and stuff. It's absolutely no excuse for his actions, but I feel like clearing that up as he seems to have some internalized homophobia or something. I've unfortunately heard of gay people being transphobes, and I have indeed heard more recently of bi people being homophobic, so I feel like I should clear that up, especially considering my own misconceptions earlier.)

That leads us to today when he reacted to people's distaste for him by first acting as if him being Asian had anything to do with it and acting like he's being crucified for nothing. He then claims he loves trans people like any Christian neighbor would before immediately breaking out into a diatribe about how much he pities trans people and how they are inherently sinful for "mutilating the body that God gave them for his/her ego" and that he's just as bad as them? Like he occasionally complains about people viewing Christians as inherently hateful people, but frankly he's doing nothing to help that image for the many good Christians who I can't help but feel bad for, the ones who practice their faith while not being hateful crapheads over it. Not to mention that he still has several people sticking up for him and occasionally even indulging in more explicit hate that makes him look that much more like an enabler. (There's admittedly not much that's too hateful, but there's a rare not-moved commenter under that post trying to counter his crap about transitioning being a sin through some half-decent house metaphor, and it turned into a long thread that included one dipcrap throwing out the T-slur, just to show how uncomfortable they could be.)

So yeah, Toxic Pea, true to his name, is a toxic pea-brain who sucks. Don't interact with him. I admittedly have some bile fascination in seeing how this mess evolves (if that's a bad thing, then let me know), but it's really unfortunate and honestly baffling how a franchise like Kirby can have such ignorant, hateful "fans". (Like it's not quite as oxymoronic as the concept of a homophobic Steven Universe fan, but it's up there.) So again, don't listen to this twat, and if this is news to you and you liked him, then I'm sorry I had to be the bearer of bad news for you.

(Edit: I don't know if this is too late too matter, but I'd like to apologize about my frankly close-minded response to his bisexuality, because it does seem genuine and that he's even so in on his belief of homosexuality being a sin that he feels ashamed about it, which may well be internalized homophobia. It's not at all an excuse or a justification for his actions, but I felt bad for being so close-minded about that aspect of him.)

#kirby fandom drama #kirby #worst kirby youtuber ever #toxic pea is the worst #transphobes #i'm really sorry you had to see this on my account

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bukatra · 2 years

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DO. NOT. FEED. DUCKS. BREAD.

Guys, I know everyone of us has done it. We go up to the edge of the water with a loaf of bread and toss chunks to the ducks and laugh as they fight over each other to get a piece. Most likely, your parents or other adult figure taught you, as did their parents.

BUT YOU NEED TO STOP.

I dont mean stop feeding ducks, thats awesome. Feed the ducks. But dont feed them bread.

Bread is bad for birds.

1. It had hardly any nutrition. Its like twinkies. all simple sugars that offer no nutritional value.

2. like twinkies and junk food, it can be addicting. The ducks will pass up good, wholesome food if they think they will get yummy bread instead.

3. Worst of all, it can lead to Angel Wing, a very serious disease that makes them grow up unable to fly. One of the leading causes is a high-calorie, low-nutrient diet while still growing. Bread is about the highest calorie-lowest nutrient food you can give a bird!!!!

4. It can destroy the ecosystem. Bread that falls into the water and isnt eaten can mildew and mold. This can kill fish and destroy the entire lake/river/etc.

Instead, feed the ducks other stuff.

1. Did you know ducks love melon rinds? yeah. they go nuts for watermelon and cantaloupe rinds. So this summer, save the inedible rinds of your picnic melons and bring them to ducks. YUM.

2. Berries too. if you have frozen fruit thats freezer burned, take it to the lake!!!! they dont care if the blueberries are wrinkles and soggy!!!

3. Old veggies are YUMMY to birds and give them good nutrients!! Im talking cucumbers, peas, squash, zucchini, corn, kale, or broccoli… its all so good for them. so dont toss the soggy veggeis, give them to the ducklings.

4. CORN!!!!! For f***s sake. give the bird some corn. They LOVE it and its very very good for them.

5. Pumpkin seeds help them get ready for moltings and for the winter months.

These arent bread, but dont feed them these either:

1. Citrus. NOOOO. Dont feed them citrus fruit. no oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit. no. dont. the citric acid will make them have weak egg shells.

2. NEVER FEED A DUCK OR ANY OTHER BIRD ANY PORTION OF AN AVOCADO. Its TOXIC. please dont do it. Im talking, skin, flesh, pit, Dont do it. It can cause heart attacks. The duck may be fine for an hour but it will die.

3. Onions can cause diarrhea and if you give it a lot, it can cause blood poisoning.

4. potatoes, tomatoes and eggplants are related to the nightshade. they contain small amounts of poisons. baby or young ducks can get sick.

5. Spinach is fine, but only a little bit. It can make their eggs weaker if the mom eats a lot. so maybe only a few leaves every so often.

I am NOT A BIRD EXPERT, so here are my references.

https://morningchores.com/feeding-ducks/

https://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/blogs/why-you-shouldnt-feed-ducks-bread

https://www.backyardchickens.com/threads/the-ultimate-list-of-duck-treats-and-supplements.242460/

Be good to ducks. They are nice and make good quacking sound.

Also, stop feeding them as soon as they grow uninterested. Leaving extra food to sink to the bottom of the water and rot is bad.

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gomistore · 2 years

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Pet-Safe Holiday Foods to Share with Your BFF

The holiday season is full of friends, festivity, and FOOD! All those tasty holiday dishes smell very tempting to pets and people alike—but which ones are safe to share with your dog or cat? If your pets are anything like ours, they’ve nailed the “feed me please” puppy dog eyes (cats included). And if you’re anything like us, you want to share what you can with them—you’d bend over backward to make them happy, so what’s a bite of human food, right? Unfortunately, extra-rich holiday meals can be risky to feed your dog or cat. You have to watch out for extra spices, salt, and fat packed into all these flavorful delicacies! While your dog’s normal diet is full of healthy fats, a butter-basted turkey is hiding way more saturated fat than there is in their normal turkey kibble. (You should also skip feeding pets turkey skin, which is especially high in fat, and separate the white and dark meat. Read more on how to safely serve turkey in our guide to dog-safe Thanksgiving foods!) The best way to serve human food to your pets is to reserve plain, unseasoned portions just for them. You might know that potatoes are pet-safe, but it’s easy to forget all the unsafe butter and garlic hiding in an innocent-looking bowl of mashed potatoes! Even small amounts of fatty or oily foods can cause gastrointestinal problems and even pancreatitis—a dangerous swelling of the pancreas. That means no feeding your pets from the table unless you prepare them their own plate. With that being said, there are plenty of holiday foods your cats and dogs can eat plain and in moderation! You can confidently serve up: Potatoes Sweet potatoes Pumpkin Winter squash Zucchini Carrots Corn (off the cob—cobs can cause intestinal blockages) Green beans Peas Spinach Apples (cored and seeded) Cranberries Bananas Melon Plain yogurt Low-fat cheese Cooked egg Salmon Chicken breast Popcorn Some foods that are delicious for people are irritating or downright dangerous to dogs and cats. As a general rule, it’s good to avoid seasonings (yes, even salt and pepper) and added fats altogether because they can cause digestion problems. There are many other foods that might be on your holiday table which can be a source of everything from mild diarrhea to loss of life. Do NOT feed your pets: Garlic and onions (they are toxic to pets and may damage their red blood cells) Poultry bones (shards can cause internal distress and tearing) Uncooked red meat (can harbor dangerous bacteria and parasites) Macadamia nuts (very dangerous to dogs, causing damage to the nervous system) Chocolate (small amounts can cause mild distress while high concentrations can be lethal—use a chocolate toxicity calculator if your pet ever ingests chocolate to know if you should head to the vet) Artificial sweeteners (in particular, xylitol can lead to liver failure) Grapes, raisins, and currants (can cause kidney failure in dogs and health problems for cats) Unbaked yeasted doughs (the yeast can continue to rise in your pet’s stomach, causing blockages and possibly alcohol poisoning) Alcohol (can cause severe health issues and even death) Who knew a raisin could be so risky? Before you start panicking, take a deep breath. These are all worst-case scenarios, and knowing the risks helps you to avoid any slip-ups! Consider keeping pets prone to taste testing out of the kitchen and dining room during food prep and mealtime so they can’t snag any dropped morsels without you knowing. With all that being said, there are ways to safely share your holiday foods with your pets as long as you feed them carefully! That might mean skipping the pumpkin pie and swapping it out for some plain, cooked sweet potato, but trust us—they’ll still be excited about their pet-friendly versions of the holiday buffet. It’s also a-okay if you want to skip stressing about ingredients and keep things simple! Leave the people food to the people and stock up on some special dog or cat treats so that your pets can go feast mode during the holidays too. The goal is for the holidays to be delicious and stress-free for everyone, so kick back with your plate and feel good knowing you’re a well-informed pet parent. Read the full article

#holiday season travel fall vacation nature travelgram summer instatravel love photooftheday instagood trip beautiful traveli

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mari-the-bimbo · 3 years

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I’ve read and fallen in love with your Dorm mate gojo content recently and all I can think about is how insufferable he would be during quarantine. Like imagine having to spend time with gojo 24/7… plus I know for a fact that whenever you have online classes that require you to have your camera open he’d walk behind you (most likely shirtless or something) just to embarrass/annoy you, then you’d have to deal with all the people messaging you about who that guy was or if you could introduce him to them.

Dorm mate! Gojo: during quarantine

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: Thank you for this request my love!! 🥰 I feel like I sucked everyone dry with toxic ex husband Gojo so here’s some wholesome dorm mate Gojo content! <3

Where being stuck in quarantine was yours and Geto’s worst nightmare, it was Gojo’s dream come true.

He gets to keep you all to himself??? All day??? BINGO

He’s so smug about it too - “hehe your mommy and daddy can’t steal you from me anymore pea brain” He said with a wide, cheeky smile, grinning from ear to ear, as he cages you into his muscular arms.

“Gojo let go!” You scold playfully, hitting his sturdy chest, “Nuh uh! If I let go, you’ll catch covid!” He mocks with a wide grin, as he pulls you closer.

Dorm mate! Gojo was definitely the type who made banana bread and proudly facetimes Nanami to show him.

He’ll spoon feed it to you too with a giddy smile, because he’s very proud of it and wants you to be proud too LMAO-

“Hey y/n did you know doctors said orgasms help with lockdown depression?” He lies, simply because he’s horny💀

Unfortunately dorm mate! Gojo is an attention whore, causing him to be dramatic and pouty when your attention was on your online lectures.

“Y/n-channnn” he’ll whine as he enters your room without knocking, his shirtless, 6’3 figure dropping to your bed, hoping his abs diverts your attention back to him, but instead it intrigued all the other students on your zoom call.

Fake sex noises? Check. Throwing his stinky socks at you when you don’t give him the attention he’s craving for? Check.

Be ready to be tackled into your own bed once your lectures are done, where he cages you against his abs, pressing his body flush against yours, making fake sex noises as he does, laughing when you blush profusely.

Dorm mate! Gojo also loved going grocery shopping with you and Geto, claiming it was ‘family bonding time’ - “pea brain is my housewife and you’re my overgrown son, Geto!”

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capseycartwright · 2 years

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nudging into the crook of your partner's neck

Eddie likes to think he’s pretty good at reading Buck, by now, and so he knows there’s something wrong even before Buck wordlessly wraps himself around Eddie, burying his face in the crook of Eddie’s shoulder. It’s hard for a 6’2 man of Buck’s size and stature to make himself small, but Buck does his best as he breathes heavily into the curve of space between Eddie’s jaw, and shoulder.

“Hi, love,” Eddie hummed, running a gentle hand through the tangle of Buck’s curls, pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of Buck’s head as his fingers got caught in a knot. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie felt the tears, before he heard them, Buck’s shoulders shaking under Eddie’s firm grip. He could feel his husband’s tears start to soak into the collar of his sweatshirt. There was quite a few things Eddie hated in life: peas, and the sound of thunderstorms, and the way Christopher’s lip would wobble, when he cried, and he really hated the way that Buck tried to fold himself up and make himself small when he cried, as though his emotions were an inconvenience to everyone around him.

Eddie also hated Buck’s parents (for obvious reasons.)

“It’s okay,” Eddie soothed, running a slow, gentle hand down the ridges of Buck’s spine, pressing gentle kisses to Buck’s hair, the side of his head. “That’s it - let it all out,” he encouraged, because he had never aspired be the kind of person who told the people he loved that there wasn’t any need to cry: no, sometimes you just needed to sob, and years of therapy and unlearning his own fair share of toxic masculinity had allowed Eddie to recognise that sometimes the people you love - namely your son, and husband - needed you to let them cry on you for a little while.

It took a couple of minutes for Buck’s sobs to slow to the heaving, hiccuping cries that normally signalled the end of his tears, Buck pulling back, brow furrowed and cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Eddie wasn’t going to let the apology continue, giving his husband a firm look. “What have we said before, hm? No apologies for your feelings,” he shook his head, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe away the worst of the tears, and snot.

“I know, I just - I feel like an idiot,” Buck huffed, but he let Eddie wipe away his tears, at least.

“You’re not an idiot,” Eddie shook his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. “You’re a human - with feelings. Feelings I would very much like you to talk about, please,” because one of the things they’d promised when they got married was to be honest with each other, whether that was about big, or small feelings.

Buck sighed, and Eddie could tell he was taking one, two, three steadying breaths. “I sent my parents an invite to our wedding party,” he explained, because in a sort of typical Buck-and-Eddie way, they had woken up one morning and gone to city hall, with Christopher in tow, and gotten married on a whim, and so their friends and family had demanded they at least have a party to celebrate the matching gold rings they had been wearing for the last couple of weeks.

Eddie nodded. He’d done the same, and received an eager response from his parents - even if it had come with a gentle beration from his mom about getting married without having them all there to witness it. He hadn’t taken much notice: Eddie had only wanted his wedding to Buck to be about himself, Buck and Christopher. He and Buck had made the decision together, to invite their parents, though Eddie had his reservations about the Buckley’s. He’d kept it to himself: parents were complicated, and Buck’s more than anyones.

“They replied,” Buck said, his eyes watering again. “And said it was too far to travel, and that they had a dinner planned with their friends that Saturday anyway.”

Eddie really, really fucking hated Buck’s parents.

“I’m sorry, love,” Eddie brushed away the stray tears that had escaped Buck’s eyes. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m really sorry.”

“I know - I know I shouldn’t expect anything from them,” Buck admitted. “But I just - I thought they’d want to come to their son’s wedding. You know? I thought they’d be happy that I was in a proper, happy, long-term relationship. I thought they’d want to celebrate that.”

“They should want to,” Eddie said, and he didn’t often want to think about Christopher growing up, but he knew he would want to be front and centre of whatever celebration of love that might come in his child’s future.

“I feel so - silly,” Buck huffed. “For wanting them there. I feel like - I feel like I should be over it, by now, except I’m not, and I’m a thirty year old man crying on my husband because my parents just don’t - don’t want me.”

“It’s not silly,” Eddie shook his head. “Buck - baby, it’s not silly. You’re allowed to want your parents to care, and I’m sorry yours don’t. And I know I can never make up for that, but I want you. I want you so much I can’t breathe for it, sometimes, because I look at you and I see the rest of my life, and I see so much love, and adventure, and just - happiness. Because you make me so happy, Evan, I can’t even put it into words.”

Buck laughed wetly. “I think you just did.”

Eddie laughed, holding Buck close. “I love you,” he reassured. “And fuck your parents, honestly. Because in a month’s time, baby, we’re going to be throwing a big party with everyone we love most in the world, and I’m going to get to walk down the aisle to you, and I don’t need anything else in the entire world.”

Buck tucked his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck again, his breathing steady this time, folded around Eddie in a way that sought comfort, rather than tried to hide from it. Eddie was proud. “I love you,” Buck said, and that’s all that needed to be said, really.

Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Buck, pressing his nose to his husband's jumper, the lavender scent of their laundry detergent familiar. “I love you, baby.”

send me a physical intimacy prompt

#911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911fic #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #prompt fill #thank u friend!!

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

Scrambled Eggs

Pairing: yan!Ranboo x reader, Yan!Tommy x reader, Yan! tubbo x reader, Yan!Purpled x reader

Request: I raise you: Hnfnnnnnnnnnn more Yandere minors but this time you're with the eggpire already (not on purpose but you get the idea)

Word count: 3k

Warning: yandere, the egg, obsession, cult (egg), kidnapping, cursing

A/n: this is all platonic. Nothing romantic. also oop this went a lot longer than i thought it would- I got really into it. Also uploaded this and didn't proof read it. I know there's at least one mistake in there- sorry in advance.

Ranboo

When this poor lad finds out you’re currently in the Egg’s clutches, he was shocked. Oh my gosh, didn’t you love him? Did you actually love him? If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have let the Egg gain control of you. That’s how “the power of love” works. Right?

He’ll go to you, begging and doing his absolute best to reason with you. In all honesty, trying to reason with you was as productive as asking Santa Clause for that new ferrari model-

But that didn’t stop him. He was too far to properly think things through. Now why don’t you come home with him? It’s not safe for you. This “Egg” doesn’t actually care for you. He cares for you though- You end up chasing him off, saying that you were happier with the Egg than anytime you were with him. Oh how the Egg has brainwashed you. It’s so bad for you, can’t you see? He’ll go through the cycle of attempting to save you a few times before it becomes too much for him.

Eventually he just goes to Phil, ranting about how you were controlled by the Egg now and he was scared for your safety. Oh god Phil what can he do to save you? Phil please help him, give him some guidance- anything! And after Phil? Well, he’d pray to any deity that’d listen. Only asking them to save you from your current plight. You weren’t safe and he loved you so much, he can’t lose you too.

Phil tires of this cycle very quickly. It’s pathetic how much Ranboo is upset by your situation. But he’s your friend and he cares for you so much; you’re a constant in his life. How can he not love you? So he’ll just give in during one of Ranboo’s pleading stages, saying that he’ll help Ranboo rescue you- which makes Ranboo very pleased. If it was this easy to end this toxic cycle, he would’ve done it ages ago.

They plan your rescue for weeks, almost a few months. Everything had to be absolutely perfect; any flaw that could allow the Egg to repossess you needed to be resolved. As time passed, Ranboo grew more anxious. He kept visiting you during the planning process, just to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.

When the plan was finally put into motion, his anxiety grew more. What if there was something that they miss? Something they didn’t account for? Phil had to remind Ranboo, multiple times, that you needed him. And he was here to save you. Ranboo couldn’t afford the time to hesitate, he had to take action. Plus if something went wrong, they always had Techno to fall back on. This got Ranboo back in the mindset, ready to save you again.

Something that was unavoidable was physical conflict. A fight started between the eggpire and the rescuers. It was rather rough and unfortunate that you got involved. You were fighting against them, rather fiercely as well. Leaving you mostly unharmed was nearly impossible when you were so determined to have their heads. But they managed. And they succeeded; they defeated/subdued the eggpire, you came out with only a few scratches and they got you away from the egg. All in a day’s work.

Once they got you “home” (specifically Phil’s house since it was far from the Egg and provided the most on-site protection), they started the recovery process. They had to restrain you to the bed, tying you up so no harm could come to you or them. Another unfortunate thing, but a necessity.

You were feral, thrashing around and snarling. Demanding that they release you. You had to get back to the Egg, the Egg needed you and you needed it. Though time passes with no change and you eventually tire, finally being subdued from exhaustion. Ranboo volunteers to keep an eye on you once you’re deemed “stable” (as in “not trying to actively leave”).

Phil is Reluctant to leave you in Ranboo’s care, but he was tired. The day had been long and rather draining. But Ranboo seemed so eager to help you, stay with you. So he, although reluctant to do so, leaves you in the care of Ranboo. They agreed to work in shifts before he left.

As he leaves, he gives you two a final look. Ranboo moves his chair closer to you, learning in and starts to talk to you. Honestly, Phil could care less about what conversation you two were having. He was only there to rescue you. There weren’t any ties between you two besides Ranboo, a common connection. All that mattered was you getting cured, out of the Egg’s clutches.

Tommy

This boy? When he’s told the Egg has you in its possession, he vehemently denies it. There’s absolutely no way it could’ve gotten you. I mean do they realize who they’re talking about? They’re talking about you- one of the strongest people on the smp!

Though a small part of him doubts that. Whispers that yes, you’re strong. But not strong enough to protect you from a danger like the Egg.

There’s absolutely no possibility that you were taken by the Egg. I mean come on, as mentioned above, you’re hella strong. You fought in so many wars and never fell for any of Dream’s lies. The last one is mostly why he believes the Egg doesn’t have you. If you can defy Dream’s manipulation, then the Egg should be no different. Right?

And so many people didn’t like him, so this had to be a joke. It was laughable, unbelievable. They thought they could get him so easily? Oh how wrong they were. Here, he can easily prove them wrong. Prove that it’s a prank. Mostly needs to prove it to himself though.

So when he walks around the smp, he keeps an eye out for you. He does it everywhere and eventually wanders to areas less frequented by him. That’s the level of “delusional” he’s at; you’re just hiding somewhere, far from him. This is a mean prank you’re pulling and very effective if the wanted product was a panicked Tommy.

Finally throws in the towel when he can’t find you anywhere after a week. He asked everyone on the smp for your location and got one of two answers; they either haven’t seen you or they saw you in the Badlands, near the Egg’s domain.

Now he wasn’t scared to go into the Badlands to look for you. Oh absolutely not! He was, in fact, absolutely terrified of the Egg. His reasoning for not going there boiled down to “the Egg doesn’t like him and wants him dead” and “there’s no way the egg got them”.

Enough time passes and he finally starts to accept the idea that the Egg may actually have you. When the thought pops up to look for you in the Badlands, he doesn’t question or fight it like before. Now accepting it with open arms, he heads to the Badlands. His worst fear will be laid to rest. You won’t be there.

Oh how wrong he was. When he gets closer to the Egg’s lair, he finally catches sight of you. It’d been weeks since he last saw you, and was ecstatic when he found you. A closer, more in depth look decimated any joy he had.

You were definitely a part of the eggpire with the signature red iris that obscured your natural eye color from the light. And it was also obvious that it was working you to death. Your body looked so much weaker than it ever had, besides grave injuries. Absolutely drained of all, fucking demented, lifeless were just a few things to describe your current state. It was so hard to look at. He knew he had to save you because the Egg was slowly killing you.

He executed the best plan he could conjure up in that little pea-brain of his; he’d “kidnap” you. A very simple plan, in all actuality. When the other eggpire members were away from you, he’d lure you away with just his presence. The Egg absolutely despised him, he was well aware of that. That’s why you were most likely chasing him, but he liked to believe you were coming with him willingly. Breaking from the Egg’s control.

Okay so he hadn’t planned on where he’d take you- BUT he did know you had to be taken far, far away. Far from the smp and especially the Egg. He’ll stop when he believes you’re too far from the Egg’s influence. A place you can finally rest and break free from the Egg. After that? Well it was obvious; he’d do everything in his fucking power to ensure that the Egg could never get ahold of, control or bother you again.

Tying you to the bedpost should be sufficient for now, right? Oh don’t worry about the long chain on it. It’s long enough for you to get into the bathroom and get business done. He’s a really considerate guy, huh? It’s only there to prevent you from running back to the Egg, he swears.

And look! You’re slowly becoming yourself again. It’s happening slowly, but Tommy can see the progress that’s already being made. And that makes him overjoyed.

Tubbo

The news of your disappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. He had been told about one of the nukes being stolen and then the news that you were kidnapped right under his nose? Absolutely worse. All he felt was absolute rage and despair. First the nuke and now you? How could this get worse!

Finding out how you were taken can, apparently. Jack recounted how he last saw you with Bad. But it wasn’t like “oh they’re just chillin like homies”. No, it was about how Bad was carrying you to… somewhere. It was unclear where they went. Rather unfortunate how Jack had to deliver the news of two horrendous incidents at the same time.

Tubbo wanted to scold Jack for not stopping Bad, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Well it was but wasn’t all at the same time. Telling Jack how he fucked up severely wouldn’t help the situation, and neither would yelling or any other destructive form of anger. Keeping his cool was his best option to solve the current crises.

He gets to work on solving both issues asap. Jack volunteers to find the missing nuke which left Tubbo to find you. Jack taking up the nuke issue was a blessing; he’d rather have Jack find the nuke than risk your safety.

Now since he’s left to look for you, he needs a plan to locate you. His best option? Getting help from the other residents, of course! They were more than happy to assist Tubbo. All of them get told the same story; the recount that Jack told Tubbo of the last appearance you made.

It isn’t long into the search before results were made. Puffy came back with your location. Your situation was less than favorable. Adding you being in the Badlands and so close to where the Egg laid, it was all clear. It appeared that you were under the Egg’s thumb. After all, if a friend calls out to you, a normal person wouldn’t just ignore them. And Puffy said she wasn’t too far away from you when she yelled for you. So something was obviously wrong.

Tubbo decides to give the Badlands a little visit. To give his own input on the situation, if you’d call it that. In all honesty, it was just to see you and see if the tales were true. Sadly, they were.

The next best thing would be to plan an escape for you. So the first attempt is him just trying to get you to leave on your own accord. And that plan was unsuccessful, which was less than surprising. Then he tries to physically drag you back. A hilarious sight, but another plan that was doomed to fail from the beginning. As a last resort, for that visit, he pulls out the puppy dog eyes and alligator tears. You were unfazed by his tactics. There go his immediate plans of freeing you.

Eventually you tire of his behavior and chase him away. You spare him some last words before you part ways though. “I don’t need to leave the Egg. I’m perfectly fine, so just leave me alone”.

That really made him upset, but he wasn’t going to give up on you just like that. No, you were his best friend. Best friends don’t give up on each other so easily. They stick with each other and get the other out of a nasty situation. And this was one nasty situation you got pulled into.

When he gets back, he relays all of the discoveries to the others. It was undeniable, unanimous; you had to be rescued. As they all talked it over, a smile grew on Tubbo’s face. Tubbo’s change in mood was dismissed easily; he was just excited to get his friend back. They weren’t half wrong with that.

Tubbo was more happy that it’d be easier to contain you. He could easily get you where he wanted you and keep you there under the pretense of “keeping you there for your safety”. And all he’d have to do is volunteer to care for you…

Purpled

Surprisingly, he meets you through the Egg. Well, properly meet you. Originally, he joined for the money. Some of the eggpire members were rather wealthy and paid handsomely for his services.

So to elaborate on how he “knew” you. He first found you when you first appeared on the smp. Being toured around by Dream. So logically he goes up to greet the new member. You want to make good impressions on people as soon as you can.

You two only exchange names before Dream starts to shoo Purpled off. Dream gives the excuse that you were his friend. Not Purpled’s. His. He didn’t know you well and this was his server, so he’d obviously give the best tour of it. Plus you two were also catching up on things you two had done.

Dream’s behavior peeved you. He was being rather rude to this stranger and rather irresponsible. If he was trying to seem good, he was doing a poor job of conveying that.

You argued with Dream to allow this other person to come along with y’all. The argument doesn’t last long before Dream finally shoots it down and pulls you away for the rest of the tour.

Purpled was awed, felt so loved. You argued back at Dream of all people, and just for him. To defend him and let you come along with him. God you must be an angel in disguise, a true treasure. People as gracious as you are hard to come by nowadays.

After that, he does his best to become your friend. He does all the research on you that he can and watches your behaviors. Noting what you like and what you do throughout the day. Just the normal stuff, ya’know.

Without you knowing it, you had become such a precious thing to him. You’d become his best friend. Yes you two didn’t talk often at all, but you two were still friends. After all, he knew everything about you. Your favorite color, your favorite place to hang out, which genre of books you like, what muffin you get at Niki’s bakery, how you like your tea and coffee. Just the normal stuff a best friend would need to know.

Also collected things of yours. Things you came in contact with. If you left them, that meant you didn’t want them. And if you didn’t want them anymore, then they were free for the taking. This was all obvious stuff.

Another surprising thing; he became too busy with the egg to even notice your disappearance. With how much he was around you, he would’ve noticed you go missing within seconds. Yet he wasn’t around to keep you safe, now was he? No he wasn’t. He was away collecting some of the dumbest things for the egg.

He was rather annoyed when he was told of the soon-to-be new member of the eggpire. Great, another egg freak he’d have to deal with. Right now, he could really use a pick-me-up. Visiting you wouldn’t hurt- apparently it can because he was almost immediately put to work after being told the news.

After prepping for the initiation process, he was more than peeved. It’d been weeks since he last saw you. It was some of the worst weeks of his life. All he needed right now was you- oh boy.

Well he wishes were granted because there you were, being inducted into the egg cult. Man he should’ve been a bit more careful on what he wished for, but whatever. You were here now. Once it’s all over, he goes to properly greet you as an eggpire member and tours you around. So since you like the egg and he likes the egg, you wanna keep talking?

Will do everything in his power to keep you under the Egg’s control. If anybody comes in hopes of rescuing you, they’d have to deal with Purpled first. They’d usually never get past him, defeated by his hand and sent away.

It was in “your” best interest to stay with the egg. Really it was his, but you believed it too.

Those egg-cult freaks kept preaching about how the Egg would give people anything they asked or craved. Now that you were here, Purpled supposed it was true. After all, you were what he wanted after all. He is best friend by his side forever. What else could he ask for?

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