#he should take her last name just sayin

[camellcat]

lose my mind every time the doctor takes rose's last name in fics. brilliant, amazing, splendid, absolutely perfect.

like, what do you MEAN she'd be the one to change her last name? he doesn't even HAVE a bloody name like us! plus, she's rose tyler. you think he's going to want that to be different? it's the doctor and rose tyler in the tardis (or I suppose whatever they do in pete's world, but that's still the doctor and rose tyler having their new adventure)!!

she's rose tyler and he is whatever-he-wants tyler. end of discussion. the whole pond diabolical should've been clue enough imo

[alloutshirt]

disclaimer : this is a personal life vent look away

shouldn’t be sharing this but i need to take it off my brain (wow reading it back it really sounds like i lost my mind but unfortunately it’s all true and not all of it fits in 30 tags lmaooo)

[dazed-and-confused23]

Hi, can I request a story where a female reader wants to fuck Cooper and keeps making advances at him but Cooper always shuts her down. But when reader meets Hancock, she's so desperate to get her rocks off that she asks him to bang her, which he immediately agrees to because, well, it's Hancock. Reader and Hancock aren't exactly quiet when they're having sex which causes Cooper to be unable to sleep. They noises they make get to him and he jerks himself off. Internally, he's wishing he didn't blow off reader so many times because he could've been in Hancock's position by now.

Anon. I can't thank you enough for such a lovely prompt ❤️. I hope I've done it justice!

Cooper can admit that you're a stubborn little smoothskin. This is the fourth time in three days that you'd slid up to him, all soft flesh and smelling delicious, and looked at him with such an innocent gaze that it always shocked him at the filth that spilled out of your mouth.

"You should let me suck your cock."

Cooper sucked in a harsh breath, his lungs rattling and sending him into a short coughing fit. You pat his back softly, expression concerned, until the ghoul shrugs you off and stomps forward.

"Shouldn't be sayin' shit like that to men like me, Smoothie," Cooper bit out, and willed down the arousal that wanted to rise up and consume him like a fuckin' tidal wave. They rounded one last corner and came upon the entrance of Goodneighbor, and Cooper slumped a little in relief when they passed inside the safety of the walls. Boston was a dangerous place.

Down in the Third Rail, you sit by yourself at the bar, an annoyed pout on your lips as you sip the drink Charlie had whipped up for you. Cooper has already retired for the night, shacked up in a room at the Hotel Rexford. You don't understand why your ghoulish companion doesn't want to have sex with you. There wasn't something wrong with you was there?

Your self depreciating thoughts are interrupted by a smokey voice, made rough by radiation and chems.

"Why the long face, sister?"

You turn and see one of the most attractive ghouls you've ever lain eyes on. He is lean and willowy, but you could see a hidden strength in the way he held himself. He wore a red colonial outfit, complete with a tricorn hat, and a smile so friendly you knew there was danger lurking beneath.

"Cat got your tongue?" He drawls after a moment, and you flush, thighs squeezing together just at the sound of his voice. It's over for you after that. You learn that his name is Hancock, and he's the Major of Goodneighbor. He buys you drinks, and it's an embarrassingly short amount of time before you turn to him, eyes hopeful.

"Will you have sex with me, Hancock?"

The ghoul doesn't miss a best, hands already on your hips as he leads you out of the Third Rail and to the hotel across the street, and conveniently right beside Cooper's rented room.

The bounty hunter wakes to the sound of two people fucking, and they are not being quiet about it. Cooper is seconds away from smacking the wall and snarling at them to shut the fuck up, when he recognizes the sound of your voice, and his annoyance turns straight to burning aroused, jealousy.

Blood rushes to his cock, and Cooper falls back in the bed, head hitting the pillow as he clenches his eyes shut. The sound of your breath moans, begging for more ring in his head, and the ghoul breaks. He pops the button of his pants and shoves them down, taking his aching dick in his hand and stroking roughly.

"Ahh~ harder, John. Please."

Cooper grits his teeth, regret curdling his stomach as he listens to someone else fuck you, take what he kept pushing away. It should be his fuckin' name that you moan, his cock that should be buried in your tight cunt. Coop wouldn't have kept pushing you away if he knew you sounded so sweet stuffed full.

"That's it, baby, ya feel so goddamn good."

The second voice is rough, and that green envy grows at recognizing the sound of another ghoul. Cooper snarls lowly in the room, his hand tight around his cock as he fucks his fist and imagines that it's him in the room with you, bending you over the bed and fucking you just like you've been begging him to.

The sounds you make grow in pitch, and Cooper follows right along, stroking his cock in time with the breathy pants that's fall from your lips. A strangled moan leaves his lips when his balls tighten, and he comes, seed spilling and coating his fist. Cooper sits up and wipes it off on the sheets without a care, brows pulled down in a scowl when the noise in the next room ceases.

Cooper stuffs his dick back in his pants and leaves the room, loping out of the hotel and back to the bar. He'd wait until you were finished with whoever the fuck John was, and then he'd be there to sweep you up. Coop wouldn't miss that opportunity again.

[endlessthxxghts]

You Better Jump... (1 of 2)

neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈2.5k

Summary: You wake up after a drunk night out to the lock on your door broken. The neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex as you offers to fix it for you.

Warnings: canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). allusions to further sexual activity between reader and Joel, mainly fluff and flirting and embarrassing interactions that'll give you butterflies, an unhinged best friend (vulgar dialogue from said best friend), cellphone audio connecting elsewhere where other people can hear..., 18+ MDNI. F masturbation in a bathtub, Joel having incredible self control until he doesn't, making out... (I think that's it! As always, let me know if there's anything I missed that should be in here!)

Author's note: I intended for this to be a one shot, but I just know the next part will be pretty long. I still need to write up a few more details for part 2, but it will be posted VERY SOON! For now, please enjoy this. :)

PART 2 HERE (VERY NSFW, 18+ MDNI)!! || MASTERLIST

“Shit, I don’t even know which lock to get,” you mutter to yourself as you stand helplessly in the middle of the aisle. 

You went to the bar last night, got a little too drunk for your own good, and when you woke up in the morning, your front door’s lock was broken. You genuinely don’t know how that happened, but you do know that you need to fix it as soon as possible, especially with the fact that you just moved in not too long ago and you live alone. 

“Hey there,” a rough Texan drawl says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up to see a tall, broad man. Soft, brown eyes, a mustache and some scruff along his jawline. He’s clad in a dark blue t-shirt and some jeans. He’s handsome, and oh god, you’ve been completely gawking at him instead of responding. You finally meet his stare, and his eyes twinkle in delight, like he’s enjoying the attention you’re giving him. “Oh, hi, uh- I’m sorry, just kinda zoned out there for a sec,” you ramble on, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, “don’t worry about that.” He smiles, and you’ve never experienced anything more beautiful. “I, uh, couldn’t help but recognize ya, and overhear ya about the locks?” You give a confused look, and he continues, “I think we live in the same apartment complex. You just moved in a few weeks ago, right? I’m Joel.” 

You are seriously so confused right now because you are so sure you would never forget if you had a neighbor that looks this handsome. And apparently all your defenses are down right now because you just fucking said that out loud. 

You can see Joel’s cheeks and neck flush into a bright red, his hand shooting up to rub the back of his neck and the blush in your face follows. “Holy shit, I did not just fucking say that out loud,” you groan as you bury your hands into your face. You realize you still haven’t introduced your name, so you quickly squeak it out. He tells you it’s nice to meet you followed by your name, and he rambles on, “And I, uh, I’m flattered...you’re, uh, not too bad yourself.” Your head shoots up, and you swear your face cannot get even redder, but somehow it does. 

He senses that you can’t handle anymore of this god awful attempt at flirting, so he saves you by continuing his original thought. “Well, what I was tryna say was- I overheard you sayin’ ya didn’t know which lock to choose? I’m pretty handy in the maintenance department, and I’ve helped a few neighbors in our complex with much more complicated than door locks. Maybe I can help ya?” You feel all the stress from your body completely fade away, and you absolutely take advantage of this beautiful man offering to help with your locks. 

“Oh my god, really? I owe you one, thank you so so much,” you tell him. He smiles. “It’s no trouble at all, darlin,’” he says as he grabs the correct lock for the apartment complex, “this is the one we’d need.” 

All you came here for was for the lock, but you ended up staying with him and having conversation throughout his entire Home Depot run. Turns out he’s a contractor, used to live in a home but since his daughter moved out he doesn’t find the necessity of having a big home for himself. He didn’t sell it though, he let his brother and his wife take it over. Very minimalist kind of guy. 

You forget you two didn’t drive to the store together, so you’re almost kind of bummed at the fact that you have to separate from him. He bids you goodbye and says he has to run a few more errands. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two. Is it okay if I swing by your place then?” 

You’ve been so entranced by his presence and your guys’ conversation that you forgot the entire reasoning behind why you began talking in the first place, and it’s heavily evident in your confused look. His lip quirks up again, “…to fix your door lock,” he adds, amused. 

You mentally slap your forehead. Fucking get it together, you think to yourself. “Yes,” you immediately blabber out as soon as you realize you’ve gone quiet again. “Yes, that’s perfect.” 

“Alright, darlin’, I’ll see you in a few,” he says as he shoots you a wink and begins walking in the direction of his truck, and there goes that nickname again. 

Oh, you are absolutely fucked.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s a ten minute drive back home, and as soon as you get back in the car, you call your best friend and tell her what an absolute fool you made out of yourself. 

“BITCH,” she screams, gasping for air at how hard she’s laughing, “I can’t fucking stand you, oh my god, I’m crying.” 

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her, while tears are also streaming down your face, attempting to catch your breath. “Dude, I swear, once you get a good look at him, you’ll see what the fuck I’m talking about, and you’ll see my reaction was VALID to such a beautiful looking man.” 

She stays on the phone with you for the rest of your little drive, and ends your guys’ conversation with, “In all seriousness, though, you better jump on that di-”

You gasp out and yell her name, “OH MY GOD, you’re done. Goodbye.” 

She cackles, “Update me later, babe. I love you.” 

“I love you more, you fuckin’ menace,” you say as you park. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your next few hours are filled with you absolutely stressing. You know Joel is just coming to fix the door, but you can’t shake away the nerves. So you spend the first hour absolutely deep cleaning your apartment. 

You still have about maybe an hour left, so you decide to try and calm your nerves some more with a quick bath. You quickly undress and give yourself a quick wash in the shower to wash all of today’s dirt before you set up your bath. 

Filling up the tub, you throw in some lavender scented bubbles and light your favorite cashmere vanilla candle, the combination of the scents immediately relaxing you. Maybe a little too relaxed, though, because as you sink deeper into the tub, your body can’t help but continue to rise in heat at the thought of Joel. Without thinking, your eyes slowly close and your hand drifts closer to where you’re aching the most. 

You start by drawing soft circles on your clit, pulling soft little mewls from your throat. The thought of those big rough hands pushes you to move a little faster, and the thought of that scruff rubbing against your inner thigh pushes you to dip your middle and ring finger into your entrance, pumping in and out with such a need you haven’t experienced in a while. The sounds coming out of you now are high pitched and whiny, and you can’t help the way your body writhes against the bathtub, sloshing water out the sides. 

Your hips are grinding up against your palm, stimulating your clit while your fingers hit that velvety spot that drives you absolutely mad. You bring your other hand up to your mouth as a reflex to silence your sounds, but an image flashes in your mind that it was Joel’s hand over your mouth instead, and that’s what ends you. 

Your eyes clamp shut, head thrown back, spine completely arched, and all you can see are little white fireworks behind your eyelids as your orgasm breaks you, the lukewarm water feeling hotter than when you first drew the bath. 

You sit there for a moment to catch your breath, willing your body to work since the man you just touched yourself to should be here in any minute. 

You dry yourself off, putting your hair up in a towel and dressing in some gray sweat-shorts and a tank top, not caring to completely doll your figure since he’s in your home after all. Right as you finish up your skincare, you hear a knock at your door. You take one more look at yourself, and you’re still absolutely flushed with a hint of that orgasmic glow, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he can make you cum like that with just the thought of him, you’re absolutely gonna take your best friend’s advice from earlier. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You open the door for him and immediately the heat you tried to save yourself from is back, tenfold. “Hey, darlin’,” he says with a smile. The nickname makes the butterflies in your tummy flutter harder than before. You give a sweet smile back. It’s his turn to melt, but you don’t clock it as easily as he can with you. 

He steps inside, a little closer to you, and immediately he falls to his knees. You watch him, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a few little tools from his back pocket, and suddenly you realize you were holding your breath. Here he is, wasting no time getting started on fixing your door for you while you stare at him like he’s giving you a strip tease, all because he got down on his knees. 

You clear your throat, trying to regain your composure, and you offer, “C-can I get you anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?” 

He looks up at you, and he cannot get enough. Your flushed cheeks, the way your body language shows your excitement and nerves all in one, your towel lopsided on your head. So goddamn beautiful, he thinks to himself. Again, it’s his turn as he zones out in his thoughts, but this time, you do notice, and you can’t help but feel a sense of confidence shoot down your spine at the fact that you’re affecting him just as much as he affects you. 

Your smirk grows the longer he stares, and finally he realizes what’s happening, and his face goes tomato red. He’s pretty sure no one has ever seen him blush this much since he was a teenager. “Some water would be wonderful, sweetheart, thank you,” he says, thanking whatever God in existence that his words were coherent and not a blubbering mess like his brain. 

“Coming right up,” you say, and make your way into your kitchen, thankful for the little private moment to yourself. As you grab Joel a cup and fill it with ice and water, you feel your phone ring in your pocket. It’s your best friend. You bring your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button on the way up. 

“Hello?” you repeat several times before you hear your best friend, but not through your phone. Forgetting the water for a minute, you scramble to the living room, where Joel is right next to, to hear your best friend coming from your living room speaker: Hello? Can you hear me?? I said did you jump on sexy neighbor’s dick ye-

You hurriedly end the call and throw your phone across the room. Your heart starts to pound even harder when you see Joel in your peripheral view, still working hard on the lock, but he is definitely in the proximity to have seen and heard everything. You quickly turn back to the kitchen to grab the glass, purposely avoiding Joel’s eye.

Quickly you grab the glass and place it on the little table near the front door. Joel sits back on his haunches for a moment and takes a long gulp of the ice cold water. Too amused at the display that happened moments ago, he can’t help himself when he says, “So… sounds like ya got your hands full with that friend of yours, hm?” He looks up at you with mischief in his eye. 

And just like that, any sense of confidence you had at having the upper hand over this Texan man went down the drain. You completely fumble. “Oh- I- yeah, my best friend… Did you hear- Fuck, no, of course you heard, I-” 

Joel pulls himself up to stand at full height, now towering over you. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to your chin, pulling you to meet his eyes while also pulling you from the hole you keep digging deeper. You immediately shut up. He has a crooked grin plastered on his face when he says, “I didn’t hear a thing,” followed by a wink. You can feel your knees wanting to buckle. You breathily squeak out an okay and he assures you with another okay in response. You two stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Joel, without thinking, says, “Let me take ya out to dinner.” 

You slowly pull away from his grasp, afraid you’re invading his space even though he just asked you out on a date. He takes it as a sign of discomfort and immediately creates an arm’s length of space between you. “I-I’m sorry if I overstepped or made you uncomfor-” 

“No, Joel, hey,” you cut him off quickly, stepping slightly closer. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you beam up at him, your bottom lip wedged in your mouth to ease your nervousness. “I just pulled away because I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything,” you quickly add. 

“That’ll never happen,” he softly says. He steps closer again. “I’m sorry, but I- Shit, okay, I’m a gentleman through and through, but I-” he pauses for a moment, “I just- I really need to kiss you-” 

You don’t let him finish his thought as you grab onto his arms and pull him into you, guiding both his arms around your lower back and guiding your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and the way your noses bump each other ever so often is enough for you to completely buckle. His hold on you is tight enough to keep you standing, but you truly don’t know how much more of this you can take with a certain bulge pushing into your lower belly. His one hand falls lower and testing the waters, he lightly grasps onto your asscheek. You moan into his mouth at that, and he takes that as your signal for him to fully grab you, hiking you up onto your tippy toes in an attempt to consume more of you. He breaks the kiss a little to give you some airflow back, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his kisses to the side of your mouth, to your cheek, gliding down your jaw and neck, licking and nipping anywhere you give him access to. 

You were right. It’s not quite exactly your thighs like you were imagining earlier, but the way his plump lips, mustache, and scruff feel along your neck is absolutely sinful and addicting, and…

Oh, you are absolutely fucked. 

Author's note - extended: I hope you guys enjoyed this enough to tune in to part 2! The 2nd part will be very SMUTTY, so... ;)

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[candyrockpop]

Two people are stood up on their dates and end up falling for each other.

Howdy Pillar X GN! Reader

CW: None, unless you count getting stood up on a date

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"This is the last time I let her set me up on a date I swear." You thought, fuming yet also disappointed. Your sister has been trying to set you up with someone for months, and every time you get a date they're either stuck up and rude or they stand you up! You should have just told her no to these stupid dates.

You got all dressed up, too. You did your hair, your skin was flawless, and your feet hurt from these stupid shoes since you couldn't sit down in the restaurant. The reservation was in your dates name, and they wouldn't let you in without one. At this point, you gave up and sat on the curb. It had been two hours, your date wasn't coming.

"Hey, uh, you doin' alright? You've been huffin' for a few minutes..." You hear someone speaking to you as you feel a soft poke on your shoulder. You look up and find a tall caterpillar puppet. You had met a few puppets, all of which were overwhelmingly kind. He seemed nice, too, and it also seemed like he was also here for a date. He was dressed up in a cute tuxedo with his blazer hung over his arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks again. Oh, shoot. You were staring and getting lost in thought. He must think you're a creep! "Oh, I'm okay! Sorry, I just got stood up by my date so I'm a little angry." You quickly explained, your hands waving in front of you defensively. "Hey, now! It's quite alright, no need to worry. How long have you been waiting, if you don't mind me askin'?" You smile at the concern the puppet shows for you, a stranger.

You sigh and look up at him, dejected, "About two hours now? I haven't even been able to get inside because the reservation was in my date's name." You start to grumble unintelligible words under your breath. The puppet sits down next to you and pats your back gently, a sad, understanding smile being directed at you. "If it helps you any, I got stood up too. Been here for, I don't know," he pauses to wave his hands as if he's weighing something, "maybe an hour? I'm not sure since I ain't great with time." He chuckles weakly. You balled your fist and held it up, "Sad fist bump?" He chuckled and bumped your fist with one of his, "Sad fist bump."

It was quiet for a minute before he made a sound of offended surprise. "Why, I don't think I introduced myself." He cleared his throat and smile politely, even draping his blazer over your shoulders to warm you a little. He put his hand out to shake, "My name is Howdy Pillar. It's lovely to meet you." You chuckled and put your hand in his. Both of you blushed, a pink tint on your cheeks. "You can call me (preferred name). It's lovely to meet you, Howdy." You resisted a laugh, asking, "I'm sorry if this is offensive, but Howdy? As in saying hello?" He blushed, embarrassed, and nodded.

"Just like sayin' hello." Howdy smiled in a relaxed yet excited way and stood up, offering a hand to help. "Say, if you don't mind, why don't we go and have a fun night together? A new restaurant, maybe? That way tonight ain't so bad."

You smile in return and happily take his hand. He doesn't let go, simply holding it gently, as he uses one of his other arms to wrap around your shoulder and another to look for any other restaurants in the area on his phone.

Maybe your sister was right in setting you up on all those failed dates after all, "You aren't all that bad to talk to, so I don't think I'd mind that one bit, Mr. Pillar."

I hope everyone enjoyed. He needs some more love and attention. He's just so cute!

Also, how has no one commented on Julie throwing Wally in the last fic? I am very amused about it.

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 1)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her. Right?

Chapt. Setting: Atlanta camp

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, season 1 Daryl, he’s not nice in this, probably won’t be for a while. 

Word count: 1600 

A/N : (aka authors warning) this is written in Daryl’s POV soOo idk. Probably not everyone’s bag. Maybe it’s no one’s bag. These first three chapters are kinda rough and I’m sorry but I can only proofread my own stuff so many times before I either post it or delete it forever.

masterlist

17+ mdni for the whole story

After stringin’ a few squirrels for dinner I figure I should get back to camp. ‘m breakin’ through the tree line, and that’s when I see her.  Beatle. Beatle, for the first time in… shit, who knows? Definitely years, I’m not exactly sure how many. Beatle, just fuckin’ sittin’ at my fire. Like somehow she knew it was mine and showed up just to take it from me. Just sittin’. Smile on her face like she belongs there. She doesn’t. She doesn’t belong at this camp, with these people. Shit, Beatle doesn’t even belong alive if I’m bein’ honest. 

No one in this fuckin’ camp can hunt worth a damn.  They’re gonna expect me to feed ‘em, ain’t they? Eventually. Eventually the food’ll run out and it’ll just be me feedin’ fuckin’ everyone. M’not doin’ it. I’m not doin’ shit for ‘em anymore. Why should I? Left my brother on that roof to rot. Naw, I’ll hunt for my damn self. Don’t even know why I’m still fuckin’ here. Should be out findin’ Merle. Honestly, don’t even know why I’m not.

Even before the dead started walkin’. I figured her days were numbered since the first fuckin’ time I met ‘er. Drunk as hell, eyes glassy, loud annoying voice barkin’ like a damn dog. Just yap yap yappin at Merle and me, tits half hangin’ outta her bikini top. Ones cinched in the string like she’d just forgotten to take ‘em out from her last time around the bar. A dumb drunk bitch, Beatle. Stupid fuckin’ stripper name. Who’s dick gets hard over a stripper named Beatle? 

I watch her, just for a second, checkin’ to see if maybe it’s not really her. But it is. ‘Course it fuckin’ is. 

Shane’s the first person I see that’s not doin’ anything, going through some clothes in a duffel bag in the back of a van, figure he might know, “Where the fuck did she come from?” Pointing toward Beatle, her back to us, fifty yards away. Stupid purple hair blowing all over the damn place. 

Shane looks to see who I’m pointing at, but who the fuck else is new at camp? His eyes finally land on Beatle before looking back at me like he’s trying to fight the smile on his damn face, “Why? You interested?”

I’m tryin’ not to lose my shit that she’s even fuckin’ here. “Nah…” I shake my head, “I know ‘er.”

Shane looks up, surprised maybe, and then not. Looking from Beatle back to me again, eyeing us up. “Yeah, makes sense.” 

I squint back at ‘im, “S’that supposed ta mean?” 

He shrugs, making a face, before smiling again, folding another shirt into his pack, “Just that you look like you might know eachother.” He doesn’t say more but I know what he’s not sayin. “Is all.” He adds on the end just to reiterate. 

He means we’re both fuckin redneck trash to anyone who looks at us. I look back over at her, startin’ to get real mad at this jarhead dickhead. Not for her or nothin’. Even if he’s right, he don’t gotta say it. Or maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he didn’t say it. Like a fuckin’ pussy. 

A part of me feels like standin’ up for myself. Hell, a part of me feels like stickin’ up for Beatle. But, shit, it’s not even worth it.

I cough up a lougie and spit it close to his foot. “So where’d she come from?” I’m fuckin’ repeating myself. I hate fuckin’ repeating myself. 

“Think she just wandered in. Must’ve been lost in the woods or something. Ask Rick. He seems to know everything.”

Can’t keep myself from crackin’ at his petty comment. Always so fuckin’ loud with his contempt, makin’ the situation obvious to anyone with eyes. Messy. 

I decide I’m gonna ask ‘er. She’s gonna see me eventually. Better I approach her first, right? Don’t need to get football tackled in the middle of doin’ somethin’ else when she sees me for the first time. So I pull out a cigarette and start walkin’ over.

She’s talkin’ to Andrea. She fuckin’ would. Both of them loud dumb bitches. Talking about all the dumb shit they miss since everything’s turned to shit. Not talkin’ about people or nothin’ important. Just bullshit like getting your damn nails done, and eating fuckin’ ice cream. 

“Where’d you fuckin’ come from?” Sayin it louder than I meant. More aggressive than I thought my voice would sound. Usually fuckin’ is, though.  The laughing between Andrea and Beatle stops and they look over at me, just standing there waitin’ for it to register. Waitin’ for Beatles reaction. Starin’ ‘er the fuck down like she doesn’t fuckin’ belong here. She doesn’t. 

Beatles eyes light up, getting up from her chair and runnin’ over to me like she’s never been more excited to see someone in her whole damn life. I try to brace myself, but she still rocks me backward as she jumps on me, “Daryl!” Should have stopped her, could have moved just right out of the way. But nah, I let her. 

I don’t hug her back though, just push her off and let her own feet catch her. Dumb bitch doesn’t know personal boundaries. Her voice so close to my ear, “Damn, don’t look so happy to see me.”

Happy to see her? I’m not. Didn’t think I could be so unhappy to see a familiar face in my whole fuckin’ life. But she wasn’t letting that stop her, never fuckin’ did. “I was lost, found this camp. They said I could stay.” She explains, her voice high and happy and annoying as it ever was. At least she’s not drunk. 

Everyone around the fire had gone back to what they were doing. Not watchin’ us anymore. They could probably see as well as Shane that it was obvious how we knew eachother. Well, maybe not exactly how. But they probably had a good idea. 

I dunno what to say to her explanation, so I don’t say nothin’. And she just stands next to me, too close, clearly not gettin’ the hint that I didn’t really wanna talk to her. Just wanted to know why she was here. Now I know. She wasn’t gettin’ that she could and should just go back to her conversation with Andrea about ice skating, or cocktails, or what the fuck ever. 

“What about you?” Her voice quieter for fuckin’ once. 

I shake my head, blowing smoke out, “Merle and me, met up with everyone...” I don’t feel like explaining it, so I don’t. 

Beatle’s lookin’ up at me, her big eyes all wide and excited like a dumbass deer too stupid to move out of traffic, “Merle’s here?” 

This coil of disgust, I feel it snaring it’s way through my abdomen. Yeah, that’s the feeling Beatle usually gives me. Back like it never fuckin’ left. “Nah, not anymore. Sorry to dry your cunt.” 

Beatle says “Ew” fast. Like she’s so disgusted by my vocabulary. Like she isn’t just as crude, the things I heard that little mouth of hers say. 

“He’s not…” she means dead.

“Nah, hes not dead.” Usually this is where I talk something nice about Merle, about how he’s a tough sunuvabitch or some other shit. But not to Beatle. Beatle already knows, and for some reason talking about Merle with her makes me.. fuck… whatever. 

Glancing over, it looks like Beatle’s finally got the hint that I don’t wanna talk to her. She probably really was excited to see me, and I almost feel bad for a second. Before she puts her grubby fuckin’ hand in my face and asks if she can have a cigarette. Needy fuckin’ bitch. 

I laugh right in her face. At the gall of her. That at the end of it all, of everything; she was still trying to get some fuckin’ handout. “Naw.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl, please? I haven’t had one in days!” As if I give a shit what she has or hasn’t had. Hasn’t seen me in years and wants to ask for favors? 

I keep draggin’ on my cigarette, blowin’ the smoke out, and m’not smiling anymore, “I said naw. I don’t see your tits out, why would I give you anything?” Fuck repeating myself.

“You wanna see my tits?” She says it like it’s actually a question. Like she really fuckin’ believes that I’m askin’. 

“You’re a dumb bitch, Beatle, y’know tha’?” I shake my head at her, laughin’ at her again. She’s fuckin’ ridiculous.  Taking another drag I realize the cig is trash, and I almost throw the butt into the fire but decide to hand it to her instead. 

She takes it, with needy fingers like I knew she fuckin’ would. Trying to hide my smile at how fuckin’ pathetic she always seems to be.  Watching her take my trash like it’s fuckin’ gold. She drags it once, I can smell the filter burning and she throws it in the fire. “Next time maybe you’ll share one with me?” Her voice is so sweet it makes me sick. Like I didn’t just call her a dumb bitch to her face. 

Saccharine and fake, that’s how she’s always been. All her cute little movements and motions, all just tryin’ to work me up so I’ll share my smokes or listen to her dumbass whine about anything and everything. Annoying.

“Prolly not.” And I’m already walking away from the fire. From Beatle. Going back to my tent and praying to god, Jesus Christ, don’t let her follow. 

Chewin’ on what she said. Lost, huh? See? Didn’t even belong alive. 

pt 2

[waywardxwords]

Part Four

Part 4 of the Highway to Hell series Word Count: 2,374 Ratings/Warnings: Some cursing, I promise it will build more in the next chapter - this had to be a little touch of filler before the story picks up!

Sam and Dean had only been gone for a few hours. Castiel had sent them back to 1978, just like her vision had predicted. She couldn’t help but wonder if her vision had encouraged them to go. Dean had tried to assure her it hadn’t, that they would have gone back to 1978 with or without her dream. But the thought still crossed her mind.

In the meantime, she had to return to life as normal. Castiel had said it was important. So, she sat at her cubicle in the newsroom, just staring at the cursor blinking on the screen. Her teeth gnawed on her thumb nail, a bad habit she had picked up years ago and did aimlessly at this point.

“Hey, stranger,” the voice of her closest colleague broke her gaze. Connor Markham was someone she had worked with for years. After interning together, they landed jobs at the same newspaper. It was bittersweet–she was thankful to see Connor after the last forty-eight hours she had endured, but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t lie to Connor. But she also knew without a shadow of doubt, there was no way she could tell him the truth. 

“Hey,” she breathed, hoping her voice sounded stronger than it felt. 

“Where the heck have you been?” A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, which gave her relief. So far, he wasn’t asking any questions.

“Oh, you know,” she cleared her throat and glanced down at her keyboard. “I, uh, I had some old friends come into town. They surprised me, so I completely blanked on reaching out.”

“Oh, nice!” Connor seemed surprised. She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t really the kind to have many friends in general, let alone out-of-town friends. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.” His smile…something was different. She wasn’t sure if she was just being paranoid or if something was off. Either way, she didn’t have much time to think about it before Connor’s phone began to ring. “We’ll catch up later.” He whispered before rolling back to his cubicle in his computer chair.

Her teeth found the inside of her cheek–another bad habit–as her brain went back to thinking about Dean and Sam, like why no one had called yet. She thought for sure they should be back by now. With a quick glance at her cell phone, she released the flesh she had grasped between her teeth and dialed the number she had added to her contacts before she headed to work that morning.

“Hello?” She heard his comforting drawl. 

“Bobby?” Her voice dropped low so no one around her could hear.

His voice dripped with concern as her name sounded through the receiver. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said quickly, she hadn’t meant to startle or worry him. “Sorry, I was just calling to see if you had heard anything from Sam or Dean? Or even Cas?” Her fingers found a loose thread on the hem of her blouse. She pulled at it gently, careful not to cause a tear.

A sigh fell from his lips, relieved she was alright. “Not yet, darlin’. These things take time, you know,” he tried to reassure her. Her silence told him that she wasn’t buying it. “There’s a whole lotta hurry up and wait in this life. I know it’s frustrating and can really keep ya up at night,” she heard what sounded like the pour of coffee in the background. “Trust me, I’ve been dealing with these idjits for a long time.” 

A small smile and chuckle came from her lips as her eyes stayed focused on the small thread from her blouse.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is this…I know it’s hard to be patient, but there’s not much else you can do. And take it with a grain of salt, but I’ve known Sam and Dean a long time. They always find a way back,” he sounded confident…at least, she thought he sounded confident. That would have to be good enough.

“Thanks, Bobby,” she breathed into the receiver. 

“You call me if you need anything, you hear?” 

A smile tugged at her lips once more. “I will, thanks again…and you’ll call if you hear anything?” She questioned nervously, her teeth finding that same spot on her bottom lip once more.

“You bet.”

They said their goodbyes and she turned her focus back to her computer screen. The feeling of uselessness set in–there had to be something she could do to help. The boys had already assured her she was doing more than enough, but she felt about as useful as a gardener watering weeds. She wanted so badly to start researching something, anything. But she knew she couldn’t…not on her work computer. She could just imagine that conversation with Human Resources. There were no good explanations she could come up with to explain away her Google search history for the things she wanted to look up.

Before she could even consider searching something on her cell phone, a strange, tingly sensation came over her–a heavy pressure on her chest. It practically took her breath away as her eyes widened. Everything went black, but then she saw something. It was almost like an out-of-body experience.

She was walking down the same street she would when she left work for the day, headed to the parking garage. This was from today…she had on the same skinny jeans, black blouse and leather jacket. She was distracted with her cell phone, reading and typing things feverishly as she walked. It must have been important, she usually had more awareness of her surroundings when she was alone. 

But then something–or someone, rather–caught her eye. Connor was following behind her. He had left about five feet between them. That was odd, if anything, Connor would usually walk along beside her. There was another man, someone she didn’t recognize, walking just next to Connor. They exchanged a glance.

As if she was watching CCTV security footage, her view shifted and the two men hurried their pace. In one swift movement, they grabbed her. She could hear herself scream as they pulled her into an alley. From another perspective, she was back in her body–her eyes looking into both of theirs. In an instant, they flashed black.

“So, you’re the new prophet, huh?” Connor, or the demon possessing him, scowled. 

And with that, she inhaled a sharp breath and steadied herself with her palms flat on her desk. She sputtered a few breaths as her eyes moved across her desk. That was a first. She dialed the last number once more.

“Hey, it’s me…I-I’m sorry for calling you again,” she moved away from her desk, her eyes carefully on Connor–or whatever he was–as she passed by. 

“You alright?” This time he could tell something was wrong, you knew by the sound of his voice.

“Uh, not really,” you dropped your voice to a whisper. “I uh, I…saw something.” You pressed the ‘Down’ button on the elevator, but after a moment of processing, you decided against it and headed for the stairwell. 

“You had a vision?” He filled in the blanks.

“I think so?” The affliction to your voice let him know you were questioning it. “I didn’t see anything with Sam or Dean…it was me, I saw myself.”

“Balls,” Bobby grumbled. “Okay, listen to me very closely. I need to know everything you saw, alright?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled as her eyes moved around to make sure she hadn’t been followed into the stairwell. “I, uh, I was leaving work and walking to my car. I wasn’t paying attention but I was followed…they were…” she hesitated as she tried to catch her breath, partly from descending so many stairs so quickly, but also as she processed what she saw. “I don’t know, Bobby…maybe it was like a bad dream? Or something? Finding out all of the…information I’ve recently learned has been a little overwhelming. Maybe my brain is trying to figure it out…”

“Slow down, girl,” Bobby breathed as he sounded a bit out of breath. She assumed he was probably rolling around in his wheelchair trying to get to a book or his journal. “The people following you. How many were there?”

“Two,” she answered quickly. 

“Did you notice anything off about ‘em?” The sound of pages flipping in the background sounded in the ear piece.

“They…they had black eyes, Bobby,” her voice dropped even lower as she reached the ground floor. There was a major pause, and silence on the other line. “Bobby?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. She could almost envision Bobby rubbing at his eyes in frustration. “Well, shit. Okay, where are you right now?”

“I’m outside my office building in Sioux Falls,” she answered quickly.

“Alright, I want you to get in your car and head straight to my house,” Bobby said firmly. “Do not stop for anything, you hear me? You just drive. You got salt or iron on you?”

“I grabbed some salt packets from my desk,” she said meekly. 

“Balls,” he groaned once more. “Alright, well…just get here, would ya?”

“I’ll do my best,” she breathed and continued on her way towards the parking garage. Unlike her vision, she was very much aware of her surroundings this time. In the midst of the people walking around downtown Sioux Falls, she spotted Connor (or possessed Connor) opening the door to the building. She was able to dip around the corner and quickened her pace in the alley towards her car. “They’re coming, Bobby,” her words slipped out in a terrified whisper. 

“Keep your hand on the salt, girl. You throw it straight at their face if they get close. It will deter them at least for a moment,” he answered, the frustration that there was nothing he could do seeped through his words. “God dammit,” he muttered.

She heard something happening on the other side of the phone. “Bobby? Bobby, are you okay?” 

“They’re back,” he breathed, relief coming through. She could hear chatter on the other side–something was wrong with Castiel. But it sounded like the boys were in one piece. “Hey, we don’t got time for that,” Bobby chirped back at them. She heard Dean say her name. “She’s bein’ followed. Two demons.”

She heard her name louder this time. Dean was holding the phone. “Talk to me,” he breathed, his voice gruff. She felt bad for a moment–he had just been through his own personal hell, but now he was in a position where he had to help her. 

At that point, she was running to her car. She was too scared to look behind her but she assumed Connor would be getting close at this point.

“There’s two of them, Dean. I-I have like, seven packets of salt which I can’t imagine will get me very far,” she was breathless as she pulled open the driver’s door of her sedan, silently thanking God for keyless entry. 

“Okay, listen to me,” Dean’s voice was so firm it startled her. She fumbled with the lock, slammed her foot on the brake and pushed the ‘Start’ button. “You in the car?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she hit the gas. Connor had just run into the parking garage–he stood in the middle of the road. “Dean…they’re here, he’s standing in the exit.”

“You run him over,” Dean said matter-of-factly, his voice gruff and deep. “You have to run him over.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a tear drop from her chin onto the denim material covering her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. 

The tires squealed against the concrete of the parking garage. She watched as Connor’s body rolled up the hood, onto the windshield and then rolled off the back. Instinctively, she hit the brakes and looked behind her at his mangled body.

It wasn’t until Dean said her name again that she was brought back to reality. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” she breathed, but that turned to a gasp when she saw Connor’s body start to move again. He was on his hands and knees, pushing himself to a standing position. “He’s still alive, Dean…”

“It’s the demon,” his voice was so rigid. A cry fell off of her lips, and it softened him. “I know how hard this is, sweetheart. It’s confusing and I get that, I do. But you have to keep going. Do not stop.”

His instructions were clear and she knew deep down he was right. She sucked up her feelings and turned back in her seat to keep driving. Standing by the car now was the second man, the man from her vision. She hit the gas and refused to look back.

“Okay, Dean. I’m on my way,” she said shakily. 

“Good girl,” the pride he felt made its way over the line. She couldn’t put her finger on it yet, but there was something about the way he said ‘good girl’ that elicited a shudder deep within her. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you? I can, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, maybe…just in case,” her voice came out in a whisper. 

“Okay, then,” she heard him get settled. It sounded like people were talking in the background but it got quiet. She figured he must have moved to another room. 

“God, I’m an ass,” she sighed. “Are you okay? Sam and Cas, too? What happened? I’m assuming you stopped Anna, since you’re back…” she hadn’t realized they could have just vanished, had things not worked out as they planned. 

“We’re…okay,” he said simply. “Cas is running low on his angel juice, but we’ll be alright. And yeah, we stopped her.” 

She could tell there was more to the story, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it at that moment.

“I’m glad you’re all okay…” she nibbled on her bottom lip again as she watched the light start to change in front of her. “Shit, red light.”

“Run it,” Dean’s voice was firm again. Her eyes danced in the rearview mirror.

“Dean, I think it’s fine–”

Your name fell from his lips. “Please, run it.”

And so, she did. 

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

Read Part Five here!

Taglist: @roseblue373, @nelachu2423, @deans-spinster-witch, @lyarr24

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[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 6: My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Michael heads home to pick up his documents to fill out the application form for his new job. Birdy visits and they have a heartfelt conversation about what’s best for him.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence and death, foreshadowing, Birdy being mom material

Word Count: 4k

A/n: Birdy redeems herself in this one. But also, Frank fucks shit up and Birdy Is So Done With Him™️

The paperwork his solicitor gave him lies neatly tucked away in Michael’s office. It’s not just his CV or application forms he has filled out before, it holds everything else that is somewhat important to get Anna back. 

He hasn’t gone to see her today. Maybe he should have, just to see if she’s still as happy as the day before. 

It’s a weird feeling to be occupied with something other than yearning. He’s learning how to walk again, your hand offering him support as he takes his first steps. Michael still felt somewhat stuck after getting out of prison and starting the whole legal process of regaining visitation rights for his daughter – and in time, custody. Now that you are offering him a brighter future though, he feels less stuck and more overwhelmed by the conflicted emotions that have bubbled up in his chest. Trying to leave a past like his behind is harder than he thought. 

He grabs the folder with his prison records and the remaining documents and heads downstairs again. He’s not sure when he will be back; all he knows is that he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Reaching the kitchen, a knock on the door stops him in his tracks. He can make out Birdy’s brown hair through the window, and he relaxes a little. With a heavy heart, he opens the front door. 

“Hey,” Michael murmurs. 

“Good mornin’, dear,” says Birdy, her eyes gentle with affection. She stares at him, waiting patiently for him to let her in. “How have ya been?”

Michael looks left, then right, checking if any more of his family members might be standing by. The coast seems clear. He steps aside silently to let her in and she follows. Still at the door, she cups his cheeks. 

“Ya look a little less tired than usual. Did you sleep well?”

He closes his eyes, leaning into her comforting touch. “Somethin’ like that,” he says. 

Birdy smiles at him. “Where have ya been off to, hm? When I came over last night, the lights were all out.”

“Does it matter?”

“I was just askin’. Considering the way things ended yesterday with you and Jimmy, I was worried. Life hasn’t been kind to ya, pet, has it?”

Michael chuckles sadly. Her hands drop from his face when he takes a step back and walks back into the kitchen where he left the folder before opening the door. 

“Your brother’s worried ‘bout ya,” Birdy says and follows him, her brown eyes roaming the house with precision. They fall on the documents in front of him. 

He slides his arms through the sleeves of his coat. It’s obvious that he only came to retrieve something and that he is about to leave again. 

“I’m not sayin’ you need ta come back, I’m just… I’m just sayin’ that Jimmy is your family and you should maybe talk to him. Yer important to us, Mikey, don’t forget tha’.”

He runs his hand over his beard. “If this were just ‘bout family, Birdy,” he says, emphasizing her name, “I wouldn’t hesitate. Ya know I wouldn’t. But to Jimmy, this isn’t just ‘bout family. This is about the business, too, and I told him and Frank that I’m done. They say they understand I want Anna back, but then they try to sabotage me, and that’s what makes me mad. I’m not a pawn. I just want my daughter back. They’re fathers too, they should get that, but they don’t.”

She takes another step forward. Birdy doesn’t have a threatening presence that would ever encourage Michael to shut down. Out of everyone, she is the most understanding, but he feels trapped, and listening to her trying to fix something he has no interest in fixing causes the blood in his veins to boil. He doesn’t want to get angry, but he feels misunderstood; it’s an awful feeling that he wishes he could turn off. 

“I get it, dear.” Birdy places a hand on his arm and he halts, dropping his own from the pile of papers on the dining table. “I get it, better than ya think. Losing a child is a pain that I would wish upon no one, and ya deserve to get Anna back,” she says. “The wee one is yours and she belongs here. I understand why ya don’t want t’ come back. Jimmy is a bit daft sometimes.”

The smallest hint of a smile plays on Michael’s lips. Then, his features harden again. “Frank is just thinkin’ ‘bout himself,” he says. 

“That’s true, but that’s how Frank is.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate it.”

“And ya don’t have to, pet.”

“Then why does it feel like everyone expects me t’do what they tell me t’do? Do they think I’ll just bend to their every wish or what?”

She sighs. “They’re complicated characters–”

“That’s no excuse,” he cuts her off. 

“Yer right, it’s not,” Birdy says, “but we’re your family and we do care about ya, even when some of them can’t show it.”

“I appreciate it, Birdy, I do, but…” Michael braces his hands on the tabletop and leans against it. “Ever since I got out, I’ve been questionin’ my place here, in this family, and after all this talk about how bein’ a Kinsella might as well take Anna from me permanently, I–” Once again, he runs a hand through the hairs of his beard. “It’s toxic, and I can’t lose this case, Birdy,” he says and looks at her with his sad, brown eyes. “I really can’t.”

She nods. She’s always been the one to breathe humanity into the family and take over where everyone else was too stubborn to fight in the emotional sense. She has empathy, and Michael appreciates it more than anything. When he tells her something, he knows it won’t meet deaf ears or turn into an argument. She reminds him of you, in a way, except that with Birdy, there are decades of experience with the Kinsellas and himself, and she knows him inside and out – except for the parts he refuses to show, but that is still something a Kinsella understand easier than someone who has never been subjected to this kind of life. 

Birdy is like a mother to him, someone who cares when the world feels like breaking apart, but she’s there for everyone in the family, and sometimes the sliver of understanding she shows isn’t enough because she’s trying to negotiate with everyone, not just him. Family is important to her; to Michael, family feels more like a prison now. 

She wraps her arms around him, and Michael can’t help but melt into the hug. He places his head on her shoulder, exhaling a shaky breath. She rubs his shoulders and his back, patting his hair before she pulls away after a minute or two. 

“Anna is the most important thing in your life,” she states because she already knows. “And ya should fight for her. She’s your daughter and I know Allison would want ya to have her.”

He shudders at the name of his wife. He’s not so sure if she would approve. If what happened to her had happened to anyone else, she would have kept Michael from seeing Anna either way. Some things can’t be forgiven. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I’m tryin’. I only want what’s best for her.”

“I know you do. Yer an amazing father, always have and always will be.”

He pulls away from her touch completely, wiping his dry cheeks. “Just feels like I’m failin’ lately, y’know?”

“We’ve all been there,” she says with a reassuring smile. “That’s part of bein’ a parent, dear. There’s not just the joys.”

“My situation is different.”

“So what? Yer fightin’ for her, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah.”

“Then she’s gonna appreciate tha’, and she’s gonna forgive ya. Trust me.”

Birdy’s words function as a soothing lullaby for his bubbling anxiety, and Michael takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He looks at the documents, then thinks about you, and he thinks about what his life would look like with Anna back in his arms. He could be a good father, he would try. He owes it to her. He has to repeat it like a mantra or he will never find it in himself to believe it. 

“Thank ya, Birdy,” he says. “Appreciate it.”

“Of course, pet. Like I said, ‘m just worried ‘bout ya.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And I want ya to be happy, too.”

He nods. 

Birdy looks at the folder again. “What’re ya plannin’ to do with all this?”

Michael opens his mouth to answer, but the ping of his phone interrupts him and cuts through the tension. He takes it out and looks down, seeing your name pop up on his screen. His heart races. He knows you’re at work, so you’re safe; you texted him once you parked your car and reached the café. But you talked to your boss before your shift, and your shift is about to start any second now, so you either texted to break his heart and tell him you failed, in which case he would only blame himself, not you, or you texted to tell him you succeeded, which seems like a fever dream that he’s not sure he can believe. 

He opens your message with a shaky thumb, ignoring Birdy’s prodding eyes. 

‘Wednesday, 8 o’clock. My boss will hear u out. We just need to work on ur documents xo’

When he breathes out, it sounds more like a surprised gasp than an exhale. And then he smiles, failing at biting back any kind of reaction. 

He didn’t doubt your power of persuasion for a second, he only doubted himself, but you exceeded his expectations and you succeeded. He might actually get a better job and have someone else take a chance on him, and it would make getting Anna back so much easier. 

“Michael,” Birdy’s voice reaches his ears. 

He lifts his head, remembering that he’s not alone. 

Birdy doesn’t look particularly suspicious. She has a soft smile on her lips, eyeing him cautiously. 

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks. 

“Are you happy?” she repeats her question. 

He stutters. His eyebrows furrow and he thinks about the question. He’s not sure if he’s happy, but he’s not as sad as he was before. “I dunno,” he says. 

“Did ya meet someone?”

“If ya heard me and Jimmy fightin’, you know–”

“I want t’ hear it from you,” she says. 

Michael shrugs, the blood rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a boy all over again just thinking about you and the things you do for him. He’s an adult and yet the thought of you brings a giddy smile to his face and he forgets all words in the English language that could possibly be used as an answer; he can’t describe what he feels or what you’re like because it’s unique, and suddenly, he’s not as sad anymore. 

Birdy nods knowingly. “Does she make ya happy?”

“I dunno ‘bout happy,” he admits, “but I like her.”

“Good.” She strokes a hand through his hair. “You deserve it.”

“You know Jimmy and Amanda aren’t happy ‘bout–”

“Fuck ‘em then!” She surprises him with her harsh tone. “Whoever this girl is, she just made ya smile, and I haven’t seen ya smile genuinely in a while. Who cares what your brother or his wife thinks? If ya feel like she’s good for ya, you should go get her.”

“I’ve been stayin’ with her. But she doesn’t know everythin’.” He should probably stop talking, but his secrets have never not been safe with Birdy. So he finds himself pouring his heart out in ways he would be too shy to admit to you in person. “I want t’ tell her,” he says. “But seems like she’s not… she’s always so happy, so nice, so innocent, y’know?”

“Yeah. And that’s a problem?”

“Ya know it is.”

“Well,” she begins, but she cuts herself off.

“She’s always been so happy, but now she isn’t and I feel like she isn’t tellin’ me everythin’,” Michael says, “and it’s… it’s hard. Life’s hard with secrets. But I can’t corrupt her. Whatever she’s hidin’, I know she’s doin’ it fer a reason and I can’t… I just can’t.”

Birdy nods as if trying to understand where he’s coming from. “Well, does she like ya?” she asks. 

“I dunno.”

“Michael.”

“Fine! She said she likes me. She promised tha’ she could never hate me, and she knows who we are, which I know is fuckin’ dangerous in itself, but–”

“Then why don’t ya just tell her the truth? Maybe she’ll open up to you, too.”

His eyes darken as he lowers his gaze to the table again. “Wha’ if… What if she runs?”

“She doesn’t sound like the kind of gal who would.”

“Ya don’t know that. And the things I’ve done… Bein’ with me puts her in grave danger,” he says. “I’m afraid of losin’ her.”

Birdy meets his eyes. “This reminds me of somethin’,” she says. 

“What?”

“The last time ya were so worried, you fell in love with Allison.”

He sneers and lowers his head. “She’s not Allison.”

“No one can be Allison, that’s not what I’m sayin’. I’m sayin’ yer fallin’ in love, Mikey, and that’s all the protection she needs. ‘Cause when you care about someone, I know ya’d do anything to keep them safe.”

Her words, as kind as they sound, leave a bitter taste in his mouth. “You forget that Allison died,” he reminds her, “because I couldn’t keep her safe.”

Birdy purses her lips. For a while, she stays silent. She doesn’t know what to say, it seems. Michael’s chest heaves, the words still lingering in the air. 

“It wasn’t your fault, dear,” she whispers. 

“Except it was.”

“No, Michael, it wasn’t. And I need ya to see that someone who makes ya smile like that text just did is not someone you let get away.”

Michael pushes the balls of his palms into his eyes. “Birdy–”

“I understand why yer worried, but ya deserve t’be happy,” she says. “Talk to her. Show her she can trust ya and I’m sure whatever the poor girl’s keepin’ from ya will come out soon enough.”

He chuckles, his voice choking up with unshed tears. “How is it,” he says, “that you always know what t’say?”

“I’ve been ‘round fer a while,” she smiles, “and you might not think so, but I do know ya.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Mhm.” Birdy pats his back again. “How long are ya gonna stay with her?”

Michael straightens his back and rolls his shoulders, the ache in his muscles a faint reminder of the weight he’s carrying. “I, uh, haven’t decided yet.”

“Okay, I’ll try keepin’ Jimmy, Frank, and the whole lot off your ass ‘til then.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t have ta thank me, pet. I just want ya to be the best version of yerself, and it seems like yer that with her.”

He stays quiet, not knowing what more to say to her observation. She says goodbye to him with a soft smile before he’s back alone again in his house. Making his way into the living room slowly, his hand ghosts over the bulletholes above the fireplace. 

He swears he can still feel the heat from the impact, the heat of blood on his hands and the residue stench of gunpowder, and death in the air.

His vision blurs, but it’s not a seizure this time. His vision blurs as tears start to sting in his eyes. Michael pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to let it get to you, but it’s hard when all he can think about is Anna, Allison, and you. Remembering what happened has never been easy, but now it’s not just the past that scares him anymore, it’s a certain weariness of the future and his blood running cold at the possibility of the past repeating itself. 

He doesn’t feel human. The feeling is as familiar as it is alien because it evolves. It changes every time. He can’t escape the wheel of time, and he can’t escape the thoughts; they are a part of him now. 

Michael sighs heavily before tearing himself away from the living room. She shuts all of the windows and turns the lights off, stuffing the folder with the needed documents into the inner pocket of his coat, and then he grabs his keys to leave his house behind once more. 

In the house across the street, Birdy is standing in the doorway, watching Michael disappear down the street toward where she suspects he has called himself another taxi to take him away. She smiles, the words repeating in her head, I just want ya to be the best version of yerself, and it seems like yer that with her.

It is the first time she has seen him smile this brightly in a while, and his voice always gets a little higher when he talks about her. You. She has never met the mystery woman in his life, and she’s not sure if she ever will, but there is something about the way Michael talks about you that already offers her some insight – and she decides she already likes you. 

Walking inside, she locks the door behind her and makes her way into the living room. 

“Your coffee is disgusting,” Frank pipes up from the sofa and she almost gets a heart attack. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Frank!” Birdy exclaims and holds a hand over her heart. She shakes her head at how smug he looks just sitting there as if he owns the place. 

Frank puts his mug down with a smirk. “Sorry, didn’t mean ta scare ya,” he says. 

It’s a lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Birdy glares at him, taking the empty mug and carrying it into the kitchen. Expecting him to do his own dishes as Michael does would be a losing game. 

“You know, a few manners wouldn’t hurt ya,” she says. 

He gets up from his seat. When she turns around and sees the paper cup with the distinctive butterfly symbol on it, she frowns. Why would he complain about her coffee if he’s already been to the new café down the street? She has a lot of questions, but she’s sure Frank, loving the sound of his own voice, won’t hesitate to tell her. 

“Birdy,” – she turns at his tone of voice – “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

She thinks about Michael, and she hopes he won’t ask her directly about him or else she is going to have a hard time explaining it. 

“Michael,” he says. 

Birdy places the freshly cleaned mug aside. “What about him?” she asks. 

“Don’t play coy. Ya were just over to see him, weren’t ya? Is he back?”

“What do you want, Frank?”

“Remember Michael’s and Jimmy’s fight yesterday?”

“Vividly.”

“Remember how we overheard a certain name bein’ dropped?”

Birdy clenches her fist at her sides. She promised Michael she wouldn’t tell them, and she intends to keep that promise, but Frank isn’t a complete fool. She can’t help when he already knows something crucial, and he has ways of getting what he wants. All she can do now is damage control. 

She turns around, towel in hand. “How’s tha’ any of our business?” she questions. 

“How is it not? Whoever they were fightin’ ‘bout is clearly the reason why Michael quit his job at the dealership and decided to take a little… holiday,” says Frank. 

The look in his eyes is dark and she grows more defensive now that she hears the hint of a threat in his voice. 

“He just needs some time away. He’s been through hell,” she says. 

“Oh, I’m well aware, but we’ve all been there.”

“Prison, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And losin’ your wife to a dumb mistake and losin’ custody of your daughter is something we’ve been through, too, aye?”

Frank meets her stern expression with an amused frown. “Michael has to learn how ta live with it. We’ll find a way t’ get Anna back, but we need him,” he says. 

“He said no. Doesn’t that count for somethin’?”

“In our current situation, no, it doesn’t. And now he’s dragged an outsider into this, Birdy–”

“Maybe, but ya don’t know the whole story,” Birdy retorts, “So maybe ya should keep your nose out of his business and focus on Eamon since you keep tellin’ us how much of a problem he is. It’s not the girl, that’s fer sure.”

“That’s why I need Michael and Jimmy. Together. Because of Eamon and everythin’ else that’s been goin’ down ‘round here lately. We’re losin’ men left and right.”

“Your son’s incompetence isn’t Michael’s or Jimmy’s problem, ya know?” Her smile is sour when she glances at him over the brim of her coffee. “Just sayin’, of course.”

He meets her with the same expression. “Funny,” he grumbles. 

“Thanks, dear.”

“Listen–”

“I told ya all I know,” she cuts him off. “Do with that as you will.”

“I went to visit the girl,” he says, ignoring her concealed warning. 

Birdy’s face pales. “You what?”

She promised Michael she would keep the rest of the family off his ass and Frank already got involved with you. If he finds out, things are not going to end well, she knows. After seeing how much he cares, Frank might as well sign his death certificate now. Michael is only sweet until he gets angry, and when it’s someone he loves who is even at the slightest risk of getting hurt, no one can stop him. 

“Sweet soul, that one,” Frank continues. “Really, really sweet. Bright, too.” 

“So what if she brings a little light into Michael’s life?” she says. “He needs it.”

“Light? We're in the dark business, Birdy. We can't afford distractions or complications.”

“Jesus fuck!” The mug slams down on the kitchen counter and fills the room with a loud thud. “Can’t ya just let the poor boy be?!”

“No,” his answer comes nonchalantly. “You don’t understand what’s at stake, it seems. Ya should know better at this point.” 

“Oh, I do–”

“No, ya don’t.”

“Mikey needs someone, and we don’t even know if it’s the one whose name we’ve heard. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I figured it out. It’s her,” he says. “Don’t ask me how I know, but I do.”

“Frank,” she warns. 

“What if we make it clear ta her that bein' involved with a Kinsella isn't the safest path to tread?”

At this point, Birdy is sure Frank has lost his mind. Her face falls and she is quick to interject, “Frank, you can't be serious. Michael would never forgive ya if anythin’ happened to that girl,” she says. 

Once he lashes out, Frank stands no chance against him. She has seen what Michael is capable of. There is a reason word on the street has it that crossing a Kinsella, especially Michael, is dangerous. Frank is walking on thin ice, and while Birdy would love nothing more than for Michael to give him a piece of his mind, she’s scared of what it might mean for you. 

Michael told her he’s afraid of losing you, and that Jimmy and Amanda's knowing is already dangerous enough, but Frank’s plan is nowhere near innocent. Birdy curses herself for telling him things will work out because they might not, after all. 

“It’s dangerous territory,” she adds, “just like Anna.”

He chuckles. “Birdy, my dear, I have no intention of causing her any real harm,” he assures her, but she can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “We just need her to feel a little discomfort, enough to question her involvement with us.”

Lies or not, either way, she hates the thought of whatever he has planned. 

She approaches him. “Frank, please reconsider. There must be another way–”

His tone is grave when he interrupts her once again. “No,” he says. “That is not somethin’ ya can change my mind on.  I can't have another person stirrin’ up trouble. It's a risk we can't afford. I’m gonna show her what she signed herself up for. She won’t make it a day in this family, Michael needs t’ see that. His wife’s death broke him; what do ya think will happen if he loses another one? Once she’s out of the picture, Michael will realize that pretty little love stories don’t have a place here and we can all move on. He can find a girl who’s already acquainted with the dangers, not some small-town British barista who looks like she can’t hurt a fuckin’ fly.”

“Frank–”

“Have a good day, Birdy,” he taps the counter, “And thank ya fer the coffee. Michael’s little girlfriend makes a mean Irish Coffee, but nothin’ outmatches your cheap brew.”

Birdy tries to stop him, but his determined strides carry him out of the door as if he didn’t just threaten to cause harm to someone Michael, his family, cares deeply about. 

She stands there, shocked and terrified. There are a few things she expected, but this was not on her list. And as she thinks back to Michael’s smile, she decides to find a way to keep you both safe without causing your lives to implode. 

Frank messed with the wrong Kinsella.

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattmurdocksscars @roseallisonparker @1988-fiend @norestfortheshelbywicked

[jksprincess10]

Dressed for revenge 15. Probation

A/N: This is the end of arc 3. Arc 4 will be the last. CW: mentions of suicide.

Masterlist for this fic

Notification blog

Their new name is adopted by unanimity. They still have to get used to the way the name sounds in their mouth, but Joel and Ellie switched with no issues.

G becomes Em

Darlin’ becomes Emrys darlin’

27th of December 2023, community of Jackson, Ellie, Joel & Emrys’ house

They wake up to the soft sounds of a new melody and to the laughter of a teenage girl. They run down the stairs to see the cause of the noise, and they can’t help but smile when they see Joel trying to get used to his new guitar, and Ellie laughing every time he messes up.

“Bet you can’t get one chord right.” Joel says playfully.

“Guess you won’t be the one teaching me.” Her brown eyes meet Emrys’ silhouette at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh hey Em! Sorry if the old man woke you up with his bad music.”

Since the incident with Tommy and Maria, they’re quieter. Joel puts his guitar down, and Ellie picks it up instantly to try and make any coherent music with it. He kisses his partner’s forehead and brings them closer.

“Sorry for wakin’ you up.”

“It’s okay, it’s probably late.”

With a gentle hand, Joel guides them to the dining room, where there’s a leftover of thin crepes, slightly burned, probably by Joel. The smell of coffee tingles their nose.

“You should eat.” Joels sits down with them. Without much conviction, Emrys fills their plate and put a generous amount of maple syrup. “Maria was here.” They wait in silence for him to keep going. “Said it’s better if you do somethin’ else than nursing. She talked about takin’ on hunting instead. Told her you were a goddamn good shot.”

They take a bite without much appetite. “Did she give you a reason?”

“No.” They can see how he lies, how he wants to protect them.  They can read right through his deep irises.

“Joel, be honest. I know she might not like me very much.”

Joel’s hand rests on Emrys’ free hand, a defeated expression on his face.

“Not sayin’ she doesn’t like you. She thinks you might be too… sensitive. She was thinkin’ of putting you on cooking duty, I told her you’d fuckin’ despise it and burn the place down if she did that.” At that, the corner of their lips turns up into a small smile. “Tol’ her you were good at shooting with a bow… and she said she’d give you a huntin’ job. You start tomorrow.”

“So am I on probation?”

“Sort of, yeah.”  +They nod and eat a little more. “I’m sorry, Emrys darlin’.”

“It’s fine, Joel.” They take a few bigger bites, some of the syrup sticking to their lips. “You should talk to Tommy.”

“Yeah, I’m meetin’ with him tonight at the bar.”

“Okay, I’ll go to movie night with Ellie then.” They offer.

“You can rest, baby. She’s old enough to go by herself.” His thumb rests on their partner’s bottom lip, while the rest of his fingers pull them closer by the chin. He kisses them softly, tasting their sweetness and the sweetness of the syrup on their lips.

27th  of December 2023, community of Jackson, Tommy’s bar

It would be probably less awkward if the brothers were in a staring contest.

 Joel is standing in the doorway of the unopened bar, while his brother is waiting behind the bar made out of strong wood. They’re both waiting for the other to flinch.

Finally, Tommy lets out a long sigh and gestures in front of him in some vague invitation, where solid barstools are waiting for the bodies of tired men.

Joel sits down and crosses his arms over his dark green plaid dressed chest.

“I guess I was expecting you to be happy for us.” Tommy cuts to the chase, as he serves a generous glass of dark brown liquor to his older brother.

Joel scoffs and takes a long sip before responding. “M’trying to be. Had a long conversation about it with my darlin’, and they said I could be happy and sad at the same time.”  He sighs, like stating his emotion exhausted his stamina. “You were there when I lost my baby girl, Tommy. Guess I just can’t believe life goes on.”

“Knew you tried to end yours.” Tommy offers as a form of sympathy. “But there’s an after, Joel.”

“You’re young an’ all, brother. It’s hard for an ol’ man like me to get used to this after.”

“Aren’t you tryin’ to build one, though? With…” Tommy says as he pours himself a glass.

“Emrys.” Joel finishes and takes another sip.

“Emrys. Not Ghost?”

“Found ‘em a new name that felt more… alive.”

“Got it.” He says, even if he didn’t. “Don’t you want kids with…”

Joel stops him. “S’hard, Tommy. I’m too old, and they can’t. They went through horrible shit. That’s why they ran away when you talked about pregnancy. They… They ended up in a fucking cult. For 15 years, they got used and abused by some God-ass-licker. And when those assholes couldn’t do what they wanted with them? They took their fuckin’ uterus.”

Tommy stays silent in his guilt, fidgeting with his glass, the liquid swirling.

“I’m fine with what we have. With Ellie and all. She really likes Emrys, and I’m glad I don’t have to do this alone anymore. I love them too. So much. M’not askin’ you to understan’. Hell… I could barely get it at first, but Ellie explained everything to me. T’just what they are.” Joel downs the rest of his whiskey and sets down his glass a bit abruptly. “So when you come into our family, don’t you dare disrespect them.”

The Millers don’t apologize, that’s not how they do it. Tommy acknowledges what his older brother said with a quiet nod, and watches as Joel closes the door behind him.

Joel walks quickly through the few meters separating him from his newly found home; his breath forming clouds in the cold hair. When he gets home, they’re waiting in the living room, legs crossed on the couch while they’re doodling on some paper he found for them. Emrys smiles as they see Joel kicking off his boots, their joy lit by the warm fire burning in the fireplace.

“How did it go?” They ask as Joel slumps down beside them, watching over their shoulder. But they hide their drawing, putting it face down on the table. “Hmhm, don’t look.”

“Won’t tell ya if you don’t show me.” Joel teases.

They roll their eyes. “Real mature, old man.” But they hand him the drawing, where he can see the sketch of a profile, with hesitant strokes and lots of erasing. He can see bright eyes, but weighted down by crinkles, a patchy beard, and a half-erased bridge of a nose.

“S’that me?” There’s some endearment in the way he asks.

“I’m trying, can’t get your nose right.” They sigh.

“You’ll need another full page for my nose, darlin’.” He jokes and leans down to press a kiss on their cheek, his cold nose caressing the warmth of their pink cheek. “I love it.”

“Love your nose.” They punctuate their compliment by pressing their finger on the tip of his nose. “Now, your part of the deal, hm?”

“It went alright. Explained a bit of how you are you and tol’ him not to come here and disrespect my darlin’.”

“So everything’s okay?”

“Yes.” With a sigh of relief, Emrys lays their head on Joel’s thighs. His hand caresses the small spikes of wild hair that’s growing there. “You wan’ me to shave it?” Joel asks.

“Hmmm. Not yet. I wanna see if I can get a cool haircut and not sure I can trust you with that.”

As he lets out a laugh, Ellie barges through the door. “MOVIE WAS BORING AS FUCK. You wouldn’t have liked it Em’.”

“Language.”

“Yeah yeah.” Ellie says as she slumps down on the free chair. “Was a love story. Blergh. If I wanted to see people slurping each other’s face, I’d just stay at home, thank you.”

Emrys throws a pencil at her. “Hey!”

Is that what after felt like?

Joel smiles quietly at the duo’s shenanigans.

 28th of December 2023, a forest near the community of Jackson

A rabbit jumps in the snow. Disappears in its white coat.

A man is standing in front of a tree, waiting. Evaluating the new hunter’s worth.

An immortal ghost shoots in the tree, right by the man’s ear. He jumps, curses.

“Do you still need me to prove my worth or we can get to fucking work, now?”

“Fuck. Let’s get to work.” He takes the arrow from the tree’s flesh and gives it back.

With an arrogant smile, Emrys takes it back from Tommy. “Good.”

28th of December 2023, community of Jackson

When they get back from their successful hunt with a handful of small preys, they’re stopped by panicked residents.

Shadows of people being seen too close to the community.

Rumors of an emergency town meeting as soon as possible.

Whispers of a war.

[gaoau]

Strike Back

Everyday, Properly warnings — none. word count — 975

prev.

It's their third and last year of high-school, still in the same class and still filling the same roles. The 100 of his class and the average of 90's. He remains turning in his assignments in time, while only last week she handed in a math test blank because she doesn't like drawing graphs.

They decide to share another cup of tea in a breezy afternoon. Where they usually divert their paths, Kita follows her left and to her house. Much like the first time, she forces him to wait at the table as she boils the water and soaks porcelain in flavor.

He had been surprised on his first visit, shortly after the spontaneous offer that leaped off his tongue. [Name] never cared to do anything adequately, taking all credit both when they failed or somehow succeeded. The weight of indifference vanished from her body as she carefully prepared two cups, hands gentle and fingers dancing with softness.

Tea had never tasted so powerful; his tongue could pick apart every single spice mixed in a package.

She settles across from him, white porcelain knocking twice on wood. The inevitable topic of the future pops up before his second sip. "What're yer plans after graduation?" he asks someone that doesn't know what they'll eat for dinner in a few hours.

[Name] sets her cup down. Elbow beside it, cheek in her palm. "Physics," she replies with a shrug—she always shrugs—as if it were a matter of fact. "What 'bout you?"

"I'll take over my family's rice farm."

"Sounds like somethin' Kita Shinsuke can pull off. I know I can't." She puffs her cheeks and blows out air.

"S'all 'bout doin' it properly. Everyday, properly."

"As admirable as that is, there're things I don't care enough 'bout ta do 'em properly."

"Things like what?"

"Geography, makin' friends, payin' attention during economy, bein' alive."

He brings his cup up only for it to freeze before it reaches his lips. His eyes find hers. "You don't care 'bout bein' alive?" He forgets the beverage in his hand.

"I ain't really good at it, so I stopped carin' 'bout doin' it properly. Same with the other things. Hats off to ya for bein' so diligent, though."

"Ya still properly brew tea an' properly ace yer math tests."

"Yeah, I ain't sayin' I don't care 'bout anything. I ain't good at livin', but I don't wanna die. So I play with numbers ta pass the time."

"What's livin' life properly for ya?"

"I dunno." Her shoulders lift longer than usual. "Not wastin' my time and actually doin' all the things I wanna do. Maybe, I dunno."

"I think repetition, perseverance, and diligence just feel good. That's a life properly lived."

"Don't think I could do that. I only see things through if they matter. I agree, diligence's good, but I can't go above seventy percent of myself."

"I'll take it ya'll see yer physics career through, then."

"Long as it matters to me."

"Ya should try puttin' in more than seventy."

"Ya keep doin' you, Kita—"

"You'll survive."

They finish the last bits of their teas. Mentalities unchangeable and thoughts standing on parallel; face to face, endlessly, never overlapping. They don't need to agree, they just have to talk.

Spring carried mist over the mountains, Summer followed close behind. Fall creeped by until Winter seeped in. Repetition just feels good. Spring comes back before anyone can blink to start the cycle again.

It's time to graduate and leave behind years worth of useless knowledge and unnecessary all-nighters. They hold diplomas between fingers that hooked around twin teacups. Words they shared still taste fresh on their tongues, like the first bag full of spice she ever soaked in steaming water.

Mr. No Gaps Kita Shinsuke graduated at the top of his class; Ms. Well Whatever [Surname] [Name] shrugged her way out of high-school. He did things properly and she survived.

The crows cry out their song to the sinking sun, sky a flaming red hue. An unsightly envy simmers in [Name]'s chest as she walks next to Kita for the umpteenth and last time in her life. Wasted high-school years replay in her mind and his words relentless beat down upon her.

He makes her want to live a proper life.

They cross the school gates. She finds his eyes reflecting a bright future. A lazy smile crawls onto her lips.

Orange fades into a palette of cool pastel colors. "S'most likely we won't meet again. I'll probably forget 'bout ya."

"Seems like ya still prefer bein' alone."

"S'always better to be alone than in bad company."

"Ya sayin' I'm bad company?"

"D'ya see me tryna leave this conversation?"

There are carefree notes of laughter mixing with the flapping of feathers into the horizon. There's no space for silence as they stop to face each other.

"I wanna forget my high-school years," [Name] lets her criminal thoughts billow to the Spring clouds. She swings her diploma like a fallen tree branch. "Whatever ya set out to do, do it properly. Though you don't need me to tell ya that."

"I'd say the same to ya. Bye, [Surname]."

She throws a bored wave behind an uninterested shoulder. "Goodbye, Kita." Slipping off her tongue, is a farewell building up over three years.

As the night swallows her in blue, Kita is another friend not properly made, lost to the sunset in the distance. She holds her diploma in one hand and tightens her fingers around Kita's words. Truths too bitter to drink down, but too precious to let go of.

—あごす (agosu) • 2020

[wearelondonhq]

Time for a meme! If you want to take part all you have to do is reblog this post. Remember if you reblog to send them out to those who also do. Meme lasts from today (28/10) to the next Friday (03/11)! As always, please have fun and happy meme day!

1989 (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault) Meme:

"Slut!"

"What if all I need is you?"

"Got love-struck, went straight to my head."

"I'll pay the price, you won't."

"But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be lookin' at us."

"They might as well be lookin' at us."

"I'm gonna be drunk."

"[She's/He's/They're] waitin' there."

"Everyone wants [him/her/them,] that was my crime."

"The wrong place at the right time."

"You're not sayin' you're in love with me."

"You're not sayin' you're in love with me, but you're going to."

"It's a big mistake."

"It might blow up in your pretty face."

"I'm not saying, "Do it anyway."

"Do it anyway."

Say Don't Go

"I've known it from the very start."

"We're a shot in the darkest dark."

"I'm unarmed."

"It won't stop."

"Don't go."

"I would stay forever if you say, "Don't go."

"Why'd you have to lead me on?"

"Why'd you have to twist the knife?"

"And I'm yours, but you're not mine."

"Why'd you have to make me want you?"

"Why'd you have to make me love you?"

"I said, "I love you." and you say nothin' back".

"I love you."

Now That We Don't Talk

"You part the crowd like the Red Sea."

"I guess I'll never, ever know, now that we don't talk"

"I called my mom, she said that it was for the best."

"You grew your hair long."

"I miss the old ways."

"You didn't have to change."

"I cannot be your friend."

"I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost."

"What do you tell your friends?"

"Guess maybe I am better off."

"Guess maybe I am better off now that we don't talk."

Suburban Legends

"All was quickly forgiven."

"It was almost obnoxious."

"I didn't come here to make friends."

"We were born to be suburban legends."

"And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever."

"I know that you still remember."

"You told me we'd get back together."

"Tick-tock on the clock."

"I broke my own heart."

"I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it."

"My whole life's ruined."

Is It Over Now?

"I slept all alone."

"Let's fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later."

"You still wouldn't go."

"You dream of my mouth."

"You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor."

"Baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch?"

"Was it over, when he unbuttoned my blouse?"

"Just to see you come runnin', and say the one thing I've been wanting, but no."

"Come here."

"Is it over now?"

"Your new girl is my clone."

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight."

"If [she's/he's/they've] got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date [her/him/them.]"

"Think I didn't see you?"

"I was hoping you'd be there."

BONUS: Sentences memes from the full album under the cut should you want more options!

Welcome To New York

"Walkin' through a crowd, the village is aglow."

"Everybody here wanted something more."

"I could dance to this beat forever more."

"The lights are so bright."

"Everybody here was someone else before."

"And you can want who you want."

"And you can want who you want. Boys and boys, and girls and girls."

"Like any true love, it drives you crazy."

"You know you wouldn't change anything."

Blank Space

"Nice to meet you."

"I could show you incredible things."

"Saw you there and I thought, "Oh my God, look at that face."

"You look like my next mistake."

"I can read you like a magazine."

"Let's be friends."

"You can tell me when it's over."

"Got a long list of ex-lovers."

"They'll tell you I'm insane."

"We'll take this way too far."

"I've got a blank space, baby, and I'll write your name."

"I can make all the tables turn."

"Oh my God, who is she?"

"Darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream."

"Don't say I didn't warn ya."

Style

"It's been a while since I have even heard from you."

"You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye."

"We never go out of style."

"I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt."

"Can't stop thinking 'bout you."

"I got that red lip classic thing that you like."

"Take me home."

Out Of The Woods

"Looking at it now, it all seems so simple."

"I remember."

"Are we out of the woods yet?"

"Are we in the clear yet?"

"We were built to fall apart."

"We were built to fall apart and fall back together."

"Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?"

"When the sun came up, I was looking at you."

"When the sun came up, you were looking at me."

"When you started crying, baby I did too."

"Remember when you couldn't take the heat, I walked out and said "I'm setting you free"".

All You Had To Do Was Stay

"People like you always want back the love they gave away."

"People like me wanna believe you when you say you've changed."

"All you had to do was stay."

"Why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?"

"I've been pickin' up the pieces of the mess you made."

"This was what you wanted."

"You were all I wanted."

Shake It Off

"I stay out too late."

"I'm just gonna shake it off."

"I'm lightning on my feet."

"I'm dancin' on my own."

"My ex-man brought his new girlfriend."

"Won't you come on over, baby?"

I Wish You Would

"You're thinking that I hate you now 'cause you still don't know what I never said."

"I wish you would come back."

"Wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as I live."

"You always knew how to push my buttons."

"I wish we could go back and remember what we were fighting for."

"Wish you knew that I miss you too much to be mad anymore."

"I wish you would."

Bad Blood

"Now we got bad blood."

"Take a look what you've done."

"We got problems and I don't think we can solve 'em."

"Did you have to do this?"

"It's so sad to think about the good times."

"Still got scars on my back from your knife."

"If you're coming my way, just don't."

"You say sorry just for show."

"You forgive, you forget but you never let it go."

Wildest Dreams

"Nothing lasts forever."

"Say you'll remember me."

"Say you'll see me again."

"Say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams."

"No one has to know what we do."

"His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room."

"You'll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night, burning it down."

"Someday, when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around."

How You Get The Girl

"Are you insane?"

"It's been a long six months."

"Tell her how you must have lost your mind, when you left her all alone and never told her why."

"Pictures in frame, of kisses on cheeks."

"I want you for worse or for better."

"Broke your heart, I'll put it back together."

"That's how you lost the girl."

"That's how you get the girl."

"I don't want you to go."

"Remind me how it used to be."

This Love

"I never dreamed of this."

"Struggled through the night with someone new."

"You showed up just in time."

"This love came back to me."

"This love left a permanent mark."

"I watched you leave."

"When you're young, you just run."

"When you're young, you just run, but you come back to what you need."

I Know Places

"I can hear them whisper as we pass by."

"It's a bad sign."

"I know places we won't be found."

"Let them say what they want."

"Loose lips sink ships all the damn time."

"Not this time."

"Just grab my hand."

"You know for me, it's always you."

"I know for you, it's always me."

Clean

"The drought was the very worst."

"The flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst."

"I think I am finally clean."

"There was nothing left to do."

"I punched a hole in the roof."

"Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you."

"I screamed so loud, but no one heard a thing."

"I won't give in."

"I'm never gonna risk it."

"And by morning, gone was any trace of you."

Wonderland

"We fell down a rabbit hole."

"Don't rush into things."

"Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds?"

"Life was never worse but never better."

"Didn't you flash your green eyes at me?"

"I reached for you, but you were gone."

"I knew I had to go back home."

"You searched the world for something else to make you feel like what we had."

"We both went mad."

You Are In Love

"Time moved too fast."

"You can hear it in the silence."

"You are in love."

"You're my best friend."

"[He is/She is/They are] in love."

"You two are dancing in a snow globe."

"I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words."

"You can see it with the lights out."

New Romantics

"We're all bored."

"Trust me."

"Trust me, mine is better."

"We're so young."

"I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me."

"Come along with me."

"The best people in life are free."

"We need love."

"All we want is danger."

"The rumors are terrible and cruel."

"The rumors are terrible and cruel, but honey, most of them are true."

"Please take my hand."

"Please take me dancing."

[hawkinsgirlnextdoor]

Stranger Things As Songs From Speak Now (Taylor's Version)

This is my magnum opus. Should I do 1989?

Castles Crumbling - Steve Harrington

"Once, I had an empire in a golden age I was held up so high, I used to be great They used to cheer when they saw my face Now, I fear I have fallen from grace

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground And you don't want to know me I will just let you down You don't wanna know me now"

The first time I heard Castles Crumbling I immediately thought of “King Steve” and Steve’s quiet identity crisis. Steve has undergone this simultaneously tragic and liberating fall from grace. He constantly wants to show people that he’s good and valuable despite him not claiming the title he once had. He’s burned bridges with Tommy and Carol and everyone from the part of his life he’s no longer proud of. While personally he may be fulfilled with his new life he is aware that he is perceived as a failure. He had the entire world gift wrapped for him and still found a way to tear it all down. 

Nancy Wheeler & Jonathan Byers - Mine

"Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing that's ever been mine

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes"

Mine is their song! It’s Nancy and Jonathan at their best. Especially in the early seasons both of them are very emotionally guarded but learn to open up to each other. In season 1 they both talk about not wanting to become their parents, wanting to stop the cycle of resentment and conventionality. Their relationship is almost defined by hardship, growing more intimate and personal the more they take on together. In their relationship it's them against the world especially because they are an unconventional pairing. They both have insecurities and baggage but ultimately they are there for each other and are better people for it (You can pry Jancy out my cold, dead hands). 

Max Mayfield & Lucas Sinclair - Last Kiss

"I still remember the look on your face Lit through the darkness at 1:58 The words that you whispered for just us to know You told me you loved me So why did you go away?"

"Because I love your handshake, meeting my father I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions

And I'll go Sit on the floor wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss

I never thought we'd have a last kiss I never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are"

This song can be read as two sided but I primarily see it from Lucas’ perspective, particularly in the time of his and Max’s breakup. This song is about being crushed by the sudden end of relationship while still having allegiance to the person that left. Lucas is very compassionate and still worried about Max ever after their breakup. He didn’t care if she ever was with him again, only that she was safe and happy again. On Max’s side it crushes her to keep the distance between them and she’s haunted by the memories of their love and the sheer fact that Lucas is a good person who still loves her. They both wonder how much of the others life they missed and if things could’ve been different.

Nancy Wheeler & Steve Harrington - Back to December

"So this is me swallowin' my pride Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night And I go back to December all the time It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright I go back to December all the time"

"And then the cold came, the dark days When fear crept into my mind You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye."

While I am not a fan of the weird Stancy revival plot in season 4, this song really captures Steve's feelings towards Nancy. He deeply regrets the person he was when they were together and tells her that he didn't know what he had when he had it. She fundamentally changed him (which is why we should ALL be thanking Nancy for creating the Steve we know and love), and Steve wishes he could redo their relationship. The last line could also reflect Nancy's potential guilt about the way their relationship ended and her inability to reciprocate Steve's love because of her trauma and Barb's death. Also "I'm sorry for that night" is the night of the Halloween party. I don't make the rules. (Also Also Steve and Nancy dated for A YEAR that is so unfathomable to me :I)

El Hopper & Mike Wheeler & Will Byers - Superman

"I wonder if he knows how much that I miss him I hang on every word that you say And you smile and say, "How are you?" I'll say, "Just fine" I always forget to tell you I love you, I love you forever"

"I watch superman fly away You've got a busy day today Go save the world, I'll be around And I watch superman fly away Come back, I'll be with you someday I'll be right here on the ground When you come back down"

Superman can be interpreted from three different perspectives. Mike to El,  El to Mike, and Will to Mike. In season 4 Mike reaffirms his love for El by saying that she is his superhero. Her strength is the thing that he admires most about her and he is constantly in awe at her power. The line “I’ve loved you from the very first day” parallels Mike saying that he loved her from the moment he saw her. He even voices his insecurities about her leaving him behind once she realizes that he’s not anything special.

El has the complete opposite perspective, seeing herself as the unworthy one. Because Mike is the first person who ever extended kindness to El, she believes that he is the best person alive and is incredibly lucky to have him. El and Mike see the other as their Superman. 

From Will’s perspective Mike is his Superman. He is the leader, the heart, the paladin, and the great hero. He idolizes Mike in way which is why is rejection hurts so much. He wishes the cards were from Mike. That Mike knew how much Will reveres him. In his case, “I’ve loved you from the very first day” could be about the first day he and Mike met in kindergarten.

Will Byers & Mike Wheeler - Foolish One

"Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will take the long way, you will take the long way down Foolish one Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love That ain't never gonna come You will learn the hard way instead of just walkin' out

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?" Oh, you haven't written me or called But goodbye screamin' in the silence And the voices in my head are tellin' me why"

The accuracy of this one hurts. I think the lyrics are self explanatory but the song reflects the anguish Will feels over Mike’s friendship and love slipping away.

Joyce Byers & Jim Hopper - Timeless

"I would've read your love letters every single night And prayed to God you'd be comin' home all right And you would've been fine We would have been timeless 'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this So, even in a different life, you still would've been mine We would've been timeless"

"In a crowded room a few short years ago And sometimes there's no proof, you just know You're always gonna be mine We're gonna be I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've madeAnd you'll say, 'Oh my, we really were timeless'"

Timeless is an affirmation that no matter how many times they are separated and torn apart, Joyce and Hopper will find each other. It's also about them wanting to stop dealing with interdimensional threats to their families and have a normal life together and live to see the other get old.

[amaurotine-daydreaming]

XIX. Weal

“A young lady who burst in here not a quarter bell ago? Aye, I’ve seen her.” Momodi Modi crossed her arms. “Tried to hide her tears when gettin’ her key, she did. You wouldn’t have had something to do with that, would you?”

“C-certainly not!” Alka Zolka stammered. “We had agreed to meet on the steps for Little Ladies’ Day, and I am to be her seneschal. I had only just caught sight of her on the Avenue when she ran off!”

Momodi eyed Alka up and down, then squarely met his wide, earnest eyes. “You seem an all right sort,” she said. “Honest enough. I’ve been in this business long enough to have a pretty keen sense for these things, if you’ll excuse me sayin’.

“But just so I ain’t callin’ on some other distressed young lady today, I’m goin’ to need her name.”

“Setoto,” Alka said, relieved. “Her name is Setoto, and oh, thank you, miss. Tell her it’s Alka Zolka asking after her.”

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet,” Momodi cautioned. “If she decides she ain’t of a mind to see you, I won’t be pushin’ the subject–and neither should you.”

Alka nodded so vigorously he had to push his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, yes of course. Thank you, ma’am.”

“I said don’t thank me yet,” Momodi said wryly. She waved a hand toward the center of the Quicksand. “Take a seat, then. I’ll have one of mine call on her.”

As the Adventurer’s Guild’s branch in Ul’dah, Alka Zolka did not expect the place was ever what could be considered quiet, but with the Little Ladies’ celebrations in full swing, most of the seating was already taken by adventurers. He gratefully took a small table off to one side when a server pointed it out to him, assuring him that no one had come to claim the seat yet.

The sandy and earthy tones of the Quicksand’s decor were awash in the bright pink of potted cherry blossoms and paper blooms, and the reds of decorative parasols and runners laid across each table. Alka twisted his hands in his lap anxiously. The noise–and trading his armor and axe for the loose, breezy fashions of Ul’dah–did not help calm his nerves any. Just to take his mind off things, he started counting the petals on the floor that had drifted in from the main avenue, and tried not to glance in the direction of the bar too much.

It was during one of these glances that he at last caught sight of Momodi gesturing him over. He hurriedly stood. 

“She ain’t ready to come downstairs,” Momodi told him when he reached the bar.

Alka’s expression fell. Momodi wagged a finger at him. “Now, don’t go mopin’ about just yet. She said you can go up and speak with her. Room twenty-two, on your left.

“And while I don’t know what happened, you set things right, you hear? I don’t want to see any young ladies’ cryin’ their eyes out on a day meant to be all about their happiness.”

Alka, one foot already on the stairwell, looked over his shoulder. “Bringing her happiness is precisely my intention,” he said, resolute.

Momodi nodded approvingly.

Setoto’s room was near the end of the hall, and Alka wondered if she had intentionally asked for such a secluded lodging–at least as much seclusion could be found in such a well-frequented establishment. He knocked softly under the “22” that had been engraved into the wood of the door.

“Setoto?” 

There was a pause, and then Alka heard a shuffling and a quiet sniffling from behind the door. His heart sank.

“Setoto, what’s wrong?”

“I…I….” 

Another fitful lapse into silence, punctuated by another sniffle.

Alka swallowed. “If…if it isn’t your wish to have me accompany you as your seneschal, my lady, just say the word. Your comfort and happiness is paramount to me, on this day and any other.”

To his dismay, that only prompted a loud sob. “Oh Alk- k- ka, it’s just like you to assume you’re the one at fault. I-it’s not you. It’s me!”

“How can it be you?” he asked, bewildered. He wished he could open the door and sweep her into a hug. “I don’t understand.”

“I-I don’t want you to see.”

Alka leaned his face against the wood and closed his eyes, ignoring the way it dug his spectacles into the bridge of his nose. “Setoto…you know that I have ever found you beautiful beyond compare. Even if you were to suddenly turn into a tonberry again on the morrow, it would change naught of how I see you.”

He waited. Suddenly the door was yanked open and he stumbled forward, nearly falling on his face.

“I’m sorry, Alka,” Setoto hiccuped, letting go of the door handle to steady him. “I didn’t know you were that c-close to the door.”

Her cheeks were flush and damp with tears. Before Alka could reassure her that the apology was unneeded, Setoto abruptly pulled up the sleeve of her riviera dress and thrust out her arm toward him, her face screwed up in distress. The exposed skin was riddled with painful looking weals, each swollen and red.

“I d-don’t know what’s happening,” she cried. “They just started appearing, a-and I’m not sure if I’m doing something wrong with my codex or my incantations or if it just isn’t responding to healing magick.”

She yanked her sleeve back down before he could take a closer look. “What if it’s the plague coming back?” Her gold-colored eyes were brimming with panic and more unshed tears. “I think it started this way, too. The welts, and then the ghastly greenish color, and then the painful shriveling of the limbs, and–and didn’t Surito say there was a chance it could come back? What if–”

“Setoto.” Alka grasped her hand, careful not to jostle her afflicted arm. “We don’t know that yet.”

A door opening further down the hall alerted them both. With Setoto’s hasty nod, Alka fully stepped in the room and quietly shut the door. 

“You are but recently come to Ul’dah,” he told her gently. “There may be all manner of common sores and illnesses that you’ve never been exposed to, making you more susceptible to them.” He reached into the pocket of his sarouel and handed her a handkerchief. 

“I apologize,” he hung his head, “I should have thought of that before inviting you to a city packed to the bloody brim for a festival…”

Setoto gratefully took the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes before noisily blowing her nose into it. “Don’t blame yourself, Alka,” she said thickly, “I would’ve come anyway.

“I…I really do want you to be my seneschal for the day. Just not…” Setoto gestured hopelessly to her arm with her hand that clutched the kerchief, still holding his hand tight with her other. “And what if, in public….”

Alka mustered his most reassuring smile. “Let us call upon a chirurgeon. I am sure we can arrange to have someone sent up to the rooms–Ul’dah plays host to the Alchemists’ Guild, after all.”

“But…”

“If they cannot diagnose it,” said Alka, squeezing her hand, “we will call upon Surito. He will set things right.”

Setoto’s shoulders relaxed, but her eyes were still fearful. “What if it’s just a temporary fix?”

“Then we seek a longer term stratagem, my lady.” Alka gingerly lifted his hand to her cheek, and when she leaned against the touch he thumbed away the fresh tears there.

“Let us take it day by day,” he said. “And today, I have a princess that will want for escorting after she is given the very best care the realm has to offer…if she is still amenable.”

Setoto let out a small, glad sob. “I would like that. Thank you, Alka.”

[ghouligancentral]

The Bandit- Chapter 1

Arthur Morgan X reader

Summary- The reader is the daughter of two notorious outlaws who used to be a part of the Van der Linde gang. She grew up with the gang but had to leave when tragedy struck. Now that life comes back to find her in the form of an outlaw named Arthur Morgan. After accepting a job from the gang the reader wonders if she will face the same fate as her parents. Will she be the one to pay for there past sins? Or will she end up gaining more that she ever thought she could?

A/N- Feedback is greatly appreciated. Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I wrote and posted this within 2 hours. There will be a little bit of spice coming later, but there will be warnings on any chapters that have it. The tags will be updated.

Chapter warnings: Language, mature themes

Crossposted on A03

Arthur watches the red dust swirl as it is kicked up by the horses and ignores the ramblings of Sean as they ride. His mind is far too occupied by the mission that Hosea had sent them on.

—- A little under a week ago Hosea waved Arthur over as he was sitting by the fire.

“Arthur! Come here. I’ve been wanting to talk to ya about something.” Arthur signed as he walked over. “ This better not be about that game of cards last week,” he thought to himself.

As soon as Arther had taken a seat by Hosea, he noticed Hosea took a quick glance around them as if he was avoiding someone. “Listen, you know this train job we got coming up? Well I think we are gonna need some help” Hosea explained. “Dutch don't think we do,” he signs, “ but it’s getting harder these days. Between the law, the Pinkertons, and the O’Driscolls, we are barely hanging on as it is.”

Arthur nods in agreement as he turns his eyes to watch the fire as it crackles. “Well this man I used to know, Raymond Winters, has this kid. Best shot I’d ever seen, even at 14 the kid could hit a crow 6 miles off, not to mention has the quickest hands this side of the Mississippi. Could steal ya blind without even known’ they was in the room.” Hosea smiled as he recalled the kid.

“So,” Hosea continued,”I need you to bring the kid, well suppose they ain’t no kid anymore seeing that was 9 years back. Just get the kid back here for the job. We really need a good gun on this and we can’t risk getting caught.”

“So where am I supposed to find this kid?”

“ Last I heard Raymond and the kids was in Valentine. If the man is anything like I remember, I’d bet you’d find him hanging out at Kate’s cathouse. Just go askin’ for Winters and you’re bound to find em. Tell em’ Hosea sent ya.” Hosea replied, “ Oh and take Sean with ya. He needs something to do other than bother me.”

“So what you’re sayin’ is that you want me to go find the kid of some bastard you used to run with?” Arthur asked as cocked his head to the side.

“Raymond may be a bastard, but he is the best theiven’ bastard there is. He taught his kid well. Plus if the kid is anything like her father she should be able to keep quiet about this,” Hosea responded.

“She?” Arthur questioned,”I ain’t got nothin’ against a woman working this job with us, but are you sure about this?”

“Arthur you gotta trust me on this,” Hosea stated as he patted Arthur’s shoulder. “Now don’t you go tellin’ Dutch nothin’ about this. He doesn’t need to know till later.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. He’d leave first thing in the morning. As Arthur walked away, Hosea called out once more,” Oh and if she’s anything like I remember, you’re about to have a firecracker on your hands.”

—---

“Clara! Where’s that whiskey? We have customers out here waiting for their drinks.” You hear Kate call from the bar. “Hold your horses! I’m coming!” You shout back.

You worked for Kate for around nine years now. She was stern looking middle-aged women who stood no taller than 5 feet tall. Her favorite retort was always,” If God had wanted me to be the bigger person, he would have made me taller.”

Her cold gaze could clear a room faster than any fire or hail of bullets could, but under her seemingly hard shell, there was a woman with a heart of gold. Once your mother had died, your father had taken to drinking and spending most of time gambling and whoring here at Kate’s place. She had taken you in and treated you like her own daughter.

She never expected you to become one of her working girls. From the moment she met you she knew she’d have an easier time putting a girdle on a cat than keeping you from punching half her customers in the gut. It's not that you thought poorly of the girls who used their bodies as their means of work. You just couldn’t stand the thought of men like your father having their way with you.

So you worked around the place, doing things such as cleaning, tending the bar and a few other odd jobs here and there.

“Clara! Get out here now!” Katy hollers. You rush out of the back carrying a new bottle of whiskey.

“The little bastard was hiding from me,” you exclaim as you handed the bottle to Kate.

“They always are my dear,” Kate replies with a smile. She pours two glasses and turns to hand them to men standing beside the bar. One, a handsome blonde and the other a red head. You take a closer look at the blonde, you feel like you know his face from somewhere. His face was rough but no less handsome. His shoulders were broad and he appeared to be in decent shape, indicating his work consisted of some form of physical labor. If he was endowed with anything remotely proportional to the rest of his large form, one of the girls was gonna really be earning her money today.

While working here you’d taken to trying to guess little things about the customers who came in, and you had gotten quite good at reading people. Rosie, your best friend here at Kate’s, keeps insisting you have a gift. You could tell the bankers from the shop owners just by the way they walked into the place. You’d even began to guess the more “intimint” characteristics of the men. You could tell which men would spend in the first three minutes and which ones would be pounding into the poor girl for the entirety of their stay, always confirming your suspicion by talking to the girls afterwards. This man, you thought, looking upon the blonde was the latter of the two options.

The red headed one was already flirting with Rosie. You chuckled as you turned to face the alcohol bottles lining the back shelf and begin to clean some glasses. Your attention was taken away from drying mugs when you heard the blonde one speaking to Kate.

“ I’m lookin’ for a Winters. You happen to know of anyone around here with that name?” the man asked while looking down at his whisky.

Both Kate and you stiffen at the mention of the name.

“ Why ya lookin’ for this Winters? ” Kate inquired as she squinted her eyes at the man.

But before the man can respond Kate continues, “ But it don’t matter none. You’re too late anyway. The bugger up and died of consumption three winters back.”

“Well I’m actually for his kid.”

This causes Kate to grip the whiskey bottle even tighter. “You never answered my question. Why ya lookin’ for em?” Kate interrogates. . “Hosea Matthews sent me to find em’ for a job”

“Well I don’t know nothin’ ab—” Kate began to reply.

“It’s okay. I trust Hosea.” You interject as you turn to face the man.

“ I’m Clara Winters, my dad was Raymond Winters. And who might you be?” you asked.

Arthur feels a flutter as he meets your gaze. When Hosea sent him to find you, he was expecting to come across some gangly teen, not a beautiful woman such as yourself.

“ I’m Arthur Morgan ma’am,” Arthur replied as he tipped his hat, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up on his face,”and that there is Sean MacGuire” Arthur says as he points to the redhead whose lap Rosie is sitting in.

“So what did Hosea tell you about me?” You ask leaning over the bar getting closer to the man.

“ Only that you were the best shot he’d ever seen. And that you could steal just about anything as a child”

“ Oh he did?” you laugh,” Well he ain’t wrong. And I’m assuming that you need my skills in this “job” of yours?”

“Well yes,” Arthur nods.

“ When’s this job goin’ down?”

“You really trust Hosea enough to just leave with two strangers who just mentioned his name?” Arthur asks with a puzzled face.

“Well Mister Morgan, you and your friend are certainly strange I’ll give you that,” you say with a wink making the man blush,”but when Hosea was working with my father I got to know him pretty well. And sending two men to whisk me away for some mystery job sounds a lot like something he’d do.”

Arthur nods in understanding. “It’s a four days ride from here to where we meet up with Hosea and the rest of the gang. From there it will only be another week or so,” Arthur explains.

“I’ll get my things together and we will head out in the morning. There’s a hotel across the street where you can stay the night,” you said motioning towards the building,”oh and just to let you know, the girl in your friend’s lap has probably stolen most of his money by now.”

Arthur looks over at Sean, who now has his tongue in the mouth of the girl as his hands begin to roam under her dress.

“Well she’s earned it, if she had to kiss that face.” Arthur replies with a smile.

And with that he stands and hands Kate the money for their drinks. He grabs Sean by the arm as he leaves causing Rosie to hop off his lap. After the two men had gone through the door Rosie saunters up to you with a sly grin.

“Look what I got.” she says in a sing-song voice as she holds up a wad of cash, ”and I didn’t even have to take off my clothes for this.”

“ You know you’re just awful,” you tease with a smile.

“ Oh honey you’re one to talk, given that you taught me that little trick.” Rosie teased back.

The smile fell from Rosie’s face as she took a serious tone, “Are you sure you can trust those two? And Hosea for that matter. Now you know that is the Arthur Morgan? The one from the posters in the sheriff's office.”

That’s it! That’s where you know his face from. You took Rosie’s hands and looked her in the eyes as you replied, “I’ll be fine Rosie. You of all people should know that I can take care of myself. Both my parents had their own wanted posters hangin’ up in the sheriff’s office back in the day.”

With this Rosie relaxed and said, “You know, I think that the big guy has taken a liken’ to you. A grown man don’t blush like that if he ain’t taken a liken’ to a woman.”

You blushed in response, “Rosie stop. You’re just makin’ things up now.” You turn to walk up the stairs to your room above the bar.

That night you can’t stop thinking about this mystery job Hosea has asked you to be a part of. How much would it pay? Would it be enough for you to finally get out of this town, and maybe even take Rosie with you. And you can’t stop thinking about Arthur and what Rosie had said.

“Was that blush really because of you?” you thought to yourself.

But little did you know that across the street Arthur was thinking about you.

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

Go to chapter 2

[taiblogcomics]

Apex Predator

Hey there, shaving nicks. Well, we're on our last issue of this batch of Avengers Arena reviews! We'll take another short break to cleanse our palate again--I have something very nice lined up for that--and then we'll do the last six issues over the course of the summer. After that... Well, who knows~? One travesty at a time, please.

Here's the cover:

Hazmat, dear, I don't think you should be watering the trees with blood. It's not healthy for them--in fact, you could say it makes them sick-amore. I know you took the time to dig out your little tournament bracket to fill with blood in order to do so, but... Just sayin'. Maybe you didn't need to spend the time to do that. Speaking of, this whole thing probably would've gone a lot smoother if Arcade had used a bracketed gladiator tournament model instead of the battle royale format. It was 2013! Battle royale games weren't even in vogue yet! If you just waited a couple years, Arcade, you could've invented Fortnite! Alas, we have only this to ridicule him for~

So last time, Hazmat got her groove back, and she and Reptil joined the others in going to look into what happened to Nico. Unfortunately, what happened to Nico was Apex, who we now have to endure as our narrator for this issue. And she starts with some pretentious twaddle about how "no one thinks they're the villain of their own story", and asking us who the villain of this story is. Is it her? Is it Arcade? Is it the superhero community that let this happen? Is it the audience who keeps this going? No, I'm pretty sure it's you, dear. You're the one murdering people.

And speaking of people she murdered, we cut over to Nico lying in the snow. Suddenly some purple energy crackles off the Staff of One, slurps into Nico's orifices, and raises her from the dead--and off her feet. The Runaways were probably the third-biggest name in this series after X-23 and Reptil, you didn't really think she was staying dead, did you? She's about to show everyone exactly why too much pink energy is dangerous, as she finishes reviving and takes off flying in a huge colourful cloud of flames.

Apex is still monologuing about her dreck, starting on about how Murderworld isn't a story, it's a game. Arcade said so! And that games don't have heroes or villains, just winners and losers. Oh, she's one of those folks who thinks games are just pure numbers and haven't evolved since the arcade days. She's also listening to Arcade, so she's definitely an idiot. Thankfully, Nico shows up to put a stop to her garbage musings. She then uses her wand to collect up all the forest fire and redirect it at Apex. Smokey would be proud~

Speaking of Arcade, we cut over to him being a smug douchebag, eating popcorn as he enjoys Nico's attack on Apex. Hey, man, you may have set up this scenario, but this isn't for you. He does, at least, helpfully exposit about Nico's new power-up. See, the Staff of One usually requires a blood sacrifice for her to use. A couple drops is sufficient. But she died. That's about as much blood as you can sacrifice. So the Staff's rebuilt her from the ground up (even regrew her missing arm) and filled her with as much magic as it can muster.

Apex is taken aback because she thought she already killed Nico, but she's happy to try it again. She breaks into her stupid villain monologue again, thinking maybe she's the hero because she's the only one playing Murderworld by its rules. "Villains hate rules", she says, completely failing to acknowledge that Lawful Evil is a legitimate alignment. Anyways, "maybe I'm not the villain here" is a valid line of thought. "Maybe I'm the hero here because I'm the only one killing people" is definitely not.

The battle rages on. Nico uses a spell to simply reduce Deathlocket's arm cannon to its component pieces, removing her lethality from the fight. The Darkhawk powers are a bit more complicated, so she then hits Chase with a hard enough blast to return him to his sense--for a moment. Chasehawk returns fire, and Apex snatches the Staff of One in the moment, starting a gloat. But Nico just recalls the Staff with a word, to Apex's surprise, and then just closes the dirt up and around Apex, taking her out.

Chase is returned to his senses again, and he tries to apologise. Nico doesn't want to deal with that right now, though, and she just wants to sit with him quietly for a bit. Meanwhile, the dirt that swallowed up Apex and Deathlocket has dumped the pair into some underground facility. Locket also returns to her senses, while Apex remains limp and lifeless. Sneaking around a bit, Deathlocket finds a room full of the preserved bodies of the other Murderworld victims, among other science experiments. She realises where she is: Arcade's inner sanctum...

This is what I’m gonna call a catharsis issue. Once the smug douche is done smugging it up, they get their very justified beatdown by someone we like, and the world returns to good things again. Hopefully it won’t be the last one of the series, I can think of another smug douche who also needs his beatdown. Otherwise, a pretty all right issue. Resurrected a character, beat up the insufferable jackass, and end on a bit of mystery.

Now we have only six issues left! But next week, as stated above, I’ve got a couple things on the back-burner to tide us over. Why ruin this good feeling~?

[harlowsbby]

Listen to Ella’s song Trying when reading this) AHHH this my songgggg 🤭

You’ve had a few flings here and there but they didn’t really mean much to you. Jack was the complete opposite of you he was famous and had money and the looks and what did you bring to the table? You sighed and slouched into your chair. WHAT DO YOU HAVE?!? You are that bitch!! A bad bitch!! A cute bitch!! A lovable bitch!! Should I go on?!

“Are you talking about Y/N?” Stassie came from behind the boys, she sat down next to Jack and followed his eye contact which led to you. Uhhh *side eye*

Your relationship with your ex Cameron was honestly teeth pulling. He drained you mentally and physically. You were always someone who wore their heart on their sleeve and people of course took advantage of that. Get me a last name & Instagram Handel, IM ABT TO GET AN ADDRESS & WHOOP SUM ASS!!

“Yeah you definitely need to stay away from my friend I don’t want Y/N going through something like that again, and honestly I know you’re still messing around with that one girl.” Stassie sternly told Jack before getting up and leaving with Sunni. OOOP PUT A WHACK BITCH IN THEY PLACE!! Okay I take away my side eye, maybe I will like her here 🤭

“Well damn your plate doesn’t look very nutritional does it babe?” You looked up seeing it was Jack. *looks left & right* *looks behind me & behind him* WHO TF YOU CALLIN BABE?! I’m still stuck on Stassie sayin you still messin around wit another bitch! Don’t babe nobody else till you stop taking to other hoes 😒

“It’s all good baby you know I’m just playing with you.” Cut it out wit these nicknames white boy!! 🙄

“You know what’s going on with your love life or anything.” I- JACK YOU ARE SO EMBARRASSING 😭 you ain’t subtle AT ALL!!

“Just watch I’ll make you mine by the end of tonight. I’ll see you at the party later?” I mean confidence is key ig?! 🫤

“ Aren’t you excited to go out and finally be surrounded by other people?” No tf 😭

You prayed that something good will come out of this instead of something bad. For Jacks sake let’s hope so🤗 cause if not 🩴🔪

“Without a doubt.” Damn thanks for the honesty ig 😭😔

( hiii this is my new series 💗 it’s based off Ella Mai’s latest album “Heart on my sleeve” it’ll go in order from all the songs, basically jack claims he loves the reader but she’s just another girl on his hit list but feelings change and things happen and the reader finds herself falling slowly for Jack soooo stay tuned ) AHHHHHHHH I JS KNOW IMMA HAVE TO BEAT JACKS ASS!! 🫤🔪🩴

FRIEND YOU FUCKING ATEEEEE!! 🫶🏽🤗

Thank you friend I always love seeing comments that you always love 😭 it’s a bit boring for right now but trust me it’ll pick up eventually so I’m glad you love it so far

we’re definitely gonna hate jack towards the end of this so stay ready 😌💀