#he’s a fishin man

[thestarlightsymphony]

You should draw Spike on a fishing trip

He's just a little guy

[oneforthemunny]

gone fishin' |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: doing my own prompt again from #munnysummergame. domestic fluff with dad!rockstar!eddie :)

🐙- domestic blurb!! any of the dad!eddie’s take their kids to stay with wayne for a mini vacation (or staycation if they’re in hawkins). I love grandpa!wayne and dad!eddie make my ovaries cry.

contains: fluff lol. that's it no warnings just sweet dad!rockstar!eddie and grandpa wayne :)

"I mean... if you want to." Eddie's grimacing face says it all, eyes darting from his uncle back to his youngest.

Vega bounced on the tips of her toes, a grinning, bubbling ball of energy, ecstatic to be back with Grandpa Wayne. The summer trip back to Hawkins, before spending the remainder of July in the Hamptons, was annual for the Munson family. Wayne traveled to you when he could, but in his older age you wanted to make it easier on him, more accommodating; the opposite of keeping baby Vega.

At four years old, she was...energetic, and that was generous. Eddie had invested in a leash after her dash down Rodeo Drive, the ever chaotic child that kept you all on your toes. While you didn't doubt that Wayne would take care of Vega, you knew he would, you worried, truthfully, if he could.

Wayne lifted a brow. "Well, of course I want to, boy." Wayne gruffed, eyes rolling over Eddie's rigid frame. Even as a grown man, a father, he could tell when he was uneasy about something, read him so easily. "You don't want me to?"

"No," Eddie shook his head. "It's not that. It's just...I mean as long as you feel up to it-"

"I feel fine, Ed." Wayne rolled his eyes with a huff.

"Yeah, Ed." Vega parroted with a far greater attitude than she should at four. You blamed Persephone, Vega was observant- copying the seventeen year old's every move.

"Vega Jo," Eddie glared at her, a stern warning glare that had her giggling, hanging on Wayne's leg, laughing maniacally at his expense. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, only praying that the name didn't stick. Not the way 'mother fucker' had- the drop off line at the elementary school is brutal, ok?

Wayne pressed his lips together to fight back a smile. "You go on. Go to Mike's party, and I'll take care of this one." Wayne petted Vega's unruly curls, already puffing and frizzing in the Hawkins' humidity.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked again.

Wayne huffed in annoyance. "We're goin' fishing', Miss Vega. Tell you Daddy and Mama bye." Wayne glared at Eddie lightly, pushing off the wall to head towards the garage.

"What's going on?" You emerged down the hall, lipstick in hand. "Where's Vega going?"

"Grandpa's taking me fishing!" Vega cheered excitedly, a wide toothy grin dazzling up at you.

"Is he?" You asked, brows raised and voice lilting to that high octave you fell into when you baby talked. "That sounds like so much fun, baby. Is it just you and Grandpa?"

"Yes." Vega lisped, swinging her arms back and forth by her side. "Jus' me and Grandpa. Not you, or Sicily, or Sephy, or-or Ed." She giggled wickedly.

You hid your face to hide your smile. Fuck, kids were funny sometimes. It was hard not to snicker at Vega every now and then, especially at Eddie's expense. Sicily and Sienna didn't hold the same courtesy, doubling over each other in the hallway. Eddie glared at them, turning back to Vega.

"You better stop that, Vega. Or you're not going anywhere. I'll make you come with me." Eddie pointed at her in warning.

You watched it unfold in slow motion, the same scenario. Vega's little grin melting into a sweet smile, swaying until she scampered and hugged Eddie's legs tightly.

"I jus' kiddin', Daddy." Vega grinned, chin resting against his knee to look up at him with a sweet look. She patted his calve with childlike gentleness, the final nail in his own coffin.

You could practically see Eddie melting before your eyes, reaching down to hoist her on his hip. You hid your eye roll, shaking your head lightly. Your heart swelled nonetheless. How was this the same man you met nearly twenty years ago? The same rough and mean and nasty man, who now could be so gentle, not just with you and the girls, but with himself.

Eddie gave her an exaggerated mean look. "You better be kidding, Vega Jo. Better be good for Grandpa Wayne."

"Yes," You nodded, your hand rubbing over the cotton material of her little shirt. "Look at Mommy, baby. You have to be very, very good for Grandpa, ok? Listen to him and no running, Vega. That's not a funny game at all."

"I won't." Vega sighed heavy, like she was bored of the conversation.

"Vega, I'm being serious. You gotta stay close to Grandpa. Do what he says- are you listening to me?" You watched her tip back in a backbend, Eddie's arms holding her in place on his hip. She looked up at you, upside down with a grin.

"I'll be good." Vega repeated. "I'll listen."

"Yeah, right." Kensington muttered, passing the two of you to get to the kitchen.

"Kensie." You grit, eyes cutting to the fifteen year old, so angsty and moody all the time.

"I am good!" Vega growled, scowling at her older sister with a furrowed brow, a scrunched nose- the same expression she got from you. The look on Eddie's face told you that.

"Ok," You held your hands up. "You are very good. Very, very good, and you're gonna have so much fun catching fish with Grandpa, aren't you?"

"I-I'm gonna catch a big fish, like this big Mama." Vega stretched her arms out wide, nearly smacking Eddie's nose in the process.

"Yeah? You gonna bring it home? We can fry it up tonight. Dinner's on you." Eddie teased, tickling her sides so she shrieked.

"Ready to go?" Wayne called, holding a tackle box and two fishing poles- an old, black one and a bright pink one with various Disney Princesses on it.

Vega squirmed out of Eddie's grasp, flip flops smacking against the hardwood of the lake house towards the front door. "Be good, Vega!" You shouted after her, nervously pressing your fingers to your mouth. "I have my phone, Wayne, if you need anything-"

"-I got it, darlin'. You all go have fun. Don't worry 'bout us." Wayne gave you a warm smile, shutting the door with his foot behind him.

You hesitated for a moment, looking over at Eddie carefully. "She'll be good, right? He's got it."

"Vega? No way." Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. "But he's got her. He won't let anything happen to her." You frowned, lips jutting in a pout. Eddie sighed heavily. "I'll go check on them after a little bit, ok? In case it gets too much."

***

Eddie wasn't sure if it was the heat or surely someone had slipped something in his drink. He'd felt fine, pressing a kiss to your cheek before excusing himself, climbing in the car to go check on Vega. The best part about Hawkins was everywhere took ten minutes to get to, at most. The lake house was on the outskirts of town, a farther drive, but nothing he couldn't get to quickly.

Eddie didn't hear shrieking or crying or cackling, only hearing the eerily quiet sound of the breeze through the trees and the water rippling. His heart lurched, heavy steps pounding towards the back yard. The lawn that backed up into the lake, the bank meeting the soft grass where he saw them; Vega and Wayne, sitting in their own little chairs.

Vega was calmly sitting there, watching the bobber in the water, her own little pole slipping while she chatted with Wayne softly.

"...You don't like them Webkinz anymore? They not doin' it for ya?" Wayne asked gently, reeling in his line.

"No. I don't-I don't really like them anymore, because I like to play on the Wii. Me and Zarah play Just Dance a lot, but she alwaaayyys beats me." Vega sighed heavily, shoulders deflating. "She's so good at it. She can hit all the moves."

Wayne snorted lightly. "Yeah? You'll get there soon, Vega. She's a lot older than you, bigger. She's got more coordination."

Vega paused, nose scrunching when she looked over at Wayne. "What's coorginmasion?" She stuttered out the word with a grimace.

Wayne laughed. "Coordination. Means you can move quick. You'll get there. You're still little bitty. Got lots more growin' to do."

"Daddy tells me that too." Vega hummed. "He's really tall. Got lotsa co-or-di-nation." She sounded it out slowly, in between deep breaths that had Eddie grinning.

Wayne grinned. "Yeah? You'd think he would. Your Daddy can be a little clumsy sometimes."

Vega giggled loudly, nearly dropping her pole. "Yeah..." She sighed, far too heavy to be four. She'd definitely heard that from you or Eddie.

"Catch any big ones yet?" Eddie asked with a grin, arms crossed over his chest when he stepped forward.

Vega perked, curls whipping her face. "Daddy! You sneaked!" She giggled, swinging her pole around, ripping it through the water to point at him accusingly.

"Easy, Vega, easy. Gotta be gentle. Scarin' all the fishies, baby." Wayne cooed calmly, maneuvering his own pole away. "What're you doin' here, boy?"

"Just came to check on you. Make sure everything was alright." Eddie hummed. "Catch anything yet, Vegie?"

"No." Vega pouted, shaking her head. "No big ones. Grandpa said they're probably in the middle of the lake 'cause that's where all the sunshine is."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned in amusement. "He's probably right."

Eddie sat down on the cool grass next to them, under the shaded trees, a hand on Vega's back to steady her on her makeshift chair, a turned over bucket. "Guess no dinner then, huh?"

Wayne huffed at him. Vega shrugged. "Grandpa has honey buns so we're good." She said easily, eyes cutting over to Wayne's, copying the way he slowly reeled his line in.

"Honey buns?" Eddie gasped. "And you didn't share any with me, Grandpa?"

"No. They're just for us." Vega declared.

"That's right." Wayne nodded. "Vega said we should use 'em for bait. The fish might like 'em." He grinned at the younger girl.

Eddie watched in awe as Vega sat peacefully, not fidgeting or bouncing or trying to jump off the bucket. She sat, chatting with Wayne, calmly and slowly, careful with her reeling and casting- well, as careful as a four year old could be.

Eddie felt his phone buzz in his back pocket, a text from you, no doubt. "Well, if you two are good, I'm gonna go back." Eddie hesitated, standing slowly.

"We're alright." Wayne nodded, eyes not leaving the water.

Eddie hesitated, leaning down to press a kiss to Vega's head, before ducking over to Wayne. "Did you... Did you give her something?" Eddie asked quietly. Wayne's head snapped to him in question. "Like to calm her down? I don't care if you did just-"

"Boy, get out of here." Wayne scoffed, shaking his head at Eddie. "We're just having a nice, relaxin' fishin' day, right, Vega?" He glared at Eddie.

"Yes." Vega chirped, tongue poking out in concentration, turning the gears around.

"I got it handled." Wayne nodded. "Handled you for many years, boy, think I can handle this one."

Eddie nodded, raising his hands lightly. "Just call me if you need me." He said, backing away slowly.

"I got it." Wayne huffed. "Get outta here so we can get another honey bun. Let's see if them fishies like it, Vega. Maybe that'll help 'em bite."

Sure enough, Vega was bounding towards the two of you hours later, buzzing with excitement to show you what she caught. A bass in the bucket, swimming in the half filled orange container.

Wayne grinned proudly, patting her back while she rambled and showed off her fish to you, Eddie, and her sisters.

"She caught this?" Eddie asked, lifting a brow carefully.

"With her pink fishin' rod." Wayne laughed. "Caught that damn fish. Wouldn't touch it and didn't want it to die, so we put it in the bucket 'til you got back. She wanted to show ya." He boasted.

"Damn honey bun trick worked. 'Bout to use that one on my next fishin' trip with Roy." Wayne laughed.

[twola]

Yo yo yo! I have a request. Do Arthur x f!reader where he's teaching her to fish because Hosea/Dutch has found out shes weirdly squirmy about fish but she's being a reluctant brat about things and Arthur loses his temper 'GODDAMMIT wOmAn!' Style. Make its as unhinged smutty as you please (so a LOT 😏) Thank you! 😘😘😘

Ooh. Well now - I do not like fish that much, so this isn’t a stretch for me 😂 This was super fun!! I hope you enjoy.

Gone Fishin'

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

As Arthur reaches the end of his convalescence after his run-in with Colm O’Driscoll, Hosea has a task for him - teach one of the girls how to fish. The task, he finds out, is a little harder than he imagined. Also, he’s a little harder than he imagined. 

Lemoyne was warm. Warm and humid, buggy, and miserable. Arthur’s work shirt stuck to his skin, even after shedding his full union suit underneath his clothes, he’s still too damn hot. 

He’s hot and bored.

The pain in his shoulder is just a niggle at this point, but Grimshaw refused to let him go work again, even though the wound has closed up, scabbed over, and is scarred with new pink skin. 

Three more days, Grimshaw pointed at him, and with that tone that he knew he would catch hell from her if he disobeyed.

But he’s past languishing under the shade of his tent. Idleness may suit a drunk like Uncle - but not a man like him. He is a man of action.

He needs to do something. Or he is going to go crazy.

-

“Oh, come on, dear. It’s relaxing.”

“Hosea, I don’t do fish. I don’t like eatin’ them, and I sure as hell wouldn’t like catching them.” You huff, standing at the end of the dock. 

Hosea sits next to you, a fishing pole in his hand as his feet dangle over the side of the dock. You fiddle with your skirts as you gaze out at the lake, the water glinting in the afternoon sun.

“It’s an art, dear girl.”

You scowl down at him, “Fish are disgusting.” 

He laughs, “Oh, you. We’re on a lake, you’re gonna have to get used to fish real soon, missy.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s hot, and you wear just a simple white chemise top tucked into your cotton skirt, baring your arms and decolletage to the sun, a welcome opportunity after almost freezing to death in the Grizzlies. 

Hosea looks back toward the camp, where he sees Arthur mulling about. An idea strikes him, genius, as his ideas often are. He stands up, and waves over to the recovering gunslinger, “Arthur, c’mere! Got somethin’ for you to do!”

“No- Hosea,” you whisper harshly, clenching your fists in your skirts, “What are you doing?”

Arthur approaches the end of the dock, running his hand through his long beard, not having shaved in weeks at this point. “Hosea,” He grunts, then looks to you, “Miss.”

“Dear, you need to learn the fine art of fishing. And Arthur over here? He needs somethin’ to do other than sit around pissin’ off Grimshaw.” Hosea waves his free hand toward the camp,

Hosea claps Arthur’s back with his free hand, then turning and tugging you toward the gunslinger on the dock.

“Now you kids take the boat and get on out there, it’ll do both of you some good.”

“Wait wait, wasn’t it you and Dutch makin’ fun of me for the trout incident? I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to fish.” Arthur shakes his head.

“Nonsense, boy. You caught plenty last time we went out. Besides, it’ll get you out of camp.”

“Fine.” Arthur groans, grabbing the fishing rod from the older man’s outstretched hand.

“Hosea-”  You whine, but your benefactor nods his head, cutting you off.

“Go on.” 

You roll your eyes, following Arthur as he steps into the rowboat moored at the dock, taking his outstretched hand, and helping you step into the small boat.

“You kids have fun now.” Hosea waves, a smile on his face.

Arthur grunts, picking up the oars and pushing off from the dock. You sit in the bow of the rowboat, scowling, as Arthur rows away from the camp, scanning the horizon. A hushed quiet falls as he guides the boat southbound, the camp becoming smaller and smaller as he rows deeper out into the lake.

“Why do you want to learn how to fish?”

“I don’t.” You huff, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Then why the hell are we out here?” Arthur stops rowing, a scowl also settling in on his face.

“Cause you can’t say no to Hosea.”

“Looks like neither can you.”

An awkward silence settles in between you.

“Well, we’re out here now. Might as well make the best of it.” Arthur says, pulling the oars into the hull of the boat and picking up the fishing rod. He holds it out to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh, refusing to uncross your arms.

Arthur grumbles, adjusting the hat on his head, before drawing the rod back and pulling a feathered lure from his pocket, placing it on the hook. He casts the line further out into the lake. 

“Didn’t really plan on fishin’ today, otherwise I’d have some live bait - worms or crickets or whatnot.” He turns back to you, tugging on the rod slightly, glancing back as the lure bobs in the water.

You glower, scrunching your nose at the mention of live bait.

“I hate fish.” You grit out.

“Oh, hush.” Arthur chides. The line pulls, and he feels something bite.

“Here ya go!” He pulls back the line, the fish hanging in the air. With a grin, he swings the pole in your direction, the bluegill flopping on the line, getting closer to your head.

You scream, standing up in the boat and batting the fish away from your face, causing Arthur to jerk to the side, dropping the fishing pole in surprise. The boat violently bobs side to side with your movement.

“Goddamnit, woman!” Arthur yells, nearly falling over the side of the boat as he tries to catch the pole that you batted away from him.

“I told you I don’t like fish!” You screech, sitting back down slowly as the boat bucks. 

“That’s it, Christ; you’re such a goddamn brat!” Arthur throws the pole within the hull of the boat and grabs the oars, thrusting them into the water forcefully. He heaves the oars, forcing the boat forward as he angrily pulls and pushes back toward the shore, breathing heavily as he propels the boat through the water.

“Arthur - wait-”

“Waste of my goddamn time,” He continues, fuming. It actually feels good to work his muscles like this.

“Arthur!”

By then, it’s too late. The boat hits a sandbar and beaches itself, and the speed at which Arthur was rowing causes the boat to lurch violently, sending you flying forward into his body, and you both tumble to the hull of the boat, a jumble of limbs and your skirts.

Arthur pushes you up, and you nearly fall backward with the force of his shove.

He swears as you get your footing, sitting up and looking for the oars as he pulls himself back up to his seat.

The oars are nowhere to be found. He probably dropped them when he beached the damn boat. Actually, as he squints, he sees one floating away from the sandbar, back toward the middle of the lake.

“Shit.” He curses.

“You idiot.”  You sneer at him, lifting your boot to find it wet with lakewater, a hole having sprung in the bottom of the hull, the wood splintered as water rushes in. You hike up your skirts as the level of water rises within the boat.

Arthur jumps out of the boat, grumbling, looking this way and that as you climb out as well. The sandbar the boat is beached upon is on one of the small islands off the shore of the lake, a good fifty feet to the mainland. He curses to himself as he looks back into the boat, the hull filling with water.

“Now what?” You ask critically as you let your skirts down, following him as he stalks along the island’s shore. 

He doesn’t answer, looking around at the sandy ground beneath his boots.

“Watch out for the snake.” He points at the ground next to you, and your eyes dart downward as a brown water moccasin slithers by.

You scream, jumping toward him in fear away from the snake as it glides away into the water, and in a jumble of limbs, you’re somehow climbing the man as he stumbles backward.

“Get me out of here!”

Arthur tries to have some sort of propriety as he tries to regain his balance, but it’s hard when the only hold on you he can get is to loop his hands under the backs of your thighs. You’re clutching at his shoulders, trying to get yourself off of the ground, and end up finding purchase on him by wrapping your legs around his hips, your skirts askew as you pant in terror.

“Fuckin’ stop-” Arthur grunts, stumbling backwards, finally losing his battle with gravity as you and he tumble into a sand dune. His hat flies off, rolling on its rim in a circle, finally settling a few feet away.

Of course, of course, it couldn’t suit him to land in any kind of proper or decent way. No, no, he had to land completely on top of you, slotted between your hips, your skirts creeping up while his traitorous, immature, villainous cock swells at the pressure of his weight against your clothed cunt.

The air has been knocked out of your lungs, but beneath him, you gasp as he tries to move. Your knees frame him, skirts fallen to your hips to show your skin. Your arms are still thrown around his shoulders as he tries to push himself up, his hands slipping in the sand, causing him to crumble down on you, his hips fully pressing down on yours.

Shit. Shit.

He’s trying to think of anything - rotten meat, Uncle’s laundry - anything to stave off the growing erection tenting within his pants. But alas, he is a slave to his own biology, as his cock stiffens and his blood rushes into his groin.

You stare up at him. His eyes dart away in embarrassment, a blush deepening on his cheeks.

Then, you do something that throws him even further into this pit of arousal he finds himself in.

You slowly roll your hips against him and he cannot help but to let out a low moan in response and press his swollen cock against you harder.

Christ, your hair has fallen from its bun, spread out on the sandy soil of this island like some sort of halo.

Two minutes ago he wanted to throttle you. Now, underneath him, he wants to make you gasp and cry and oh, to say his name in a high whine-

“Fuck-” he curses, but before he can go any further, your hands move from his shoulders to the back of his neck, and you pull downward gently - not enough to move him, but enough to give him permission.

He waits for a moment, searching your wide eyes, your open, wet lips, and in that moment, he throws caution to the wind and leans down to slot his lips against yours. You continue to roll your hips against him, crossing your ankles over his back in a surefire sign of what you wanted, whining into his mouth.

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to give it to you.

As he leans back on his knees, sliding his arms from around your waist, he paws his suspenders down and starts unbuttoning his pants, desperate to free his swollen cock. He grunts with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls his length from his pants, closing his eyes as he strokes himself several times. He faintly recognizes your squirming beneath him, and when he’s opened his eyes again, hand still on his cock, he’s struck by what he sees. You’ve shimmied down your bloomers, skirts flipped up and over your hips, pooling across your waist.

Your folds glisten with moisture, and his hips jut forward near uncontrollably, his cock seeking out your warmth, his body yearning to bury itself within your hips.

“Y- you sure-?” One last chance - one more opportunity to back away from the precipice - to realize that you are both being ridiculous - one second ready to kill each other, the next…

“Arthur please.”

Well, there goes his reservations.

One of his large hands spreads out over your hip, the other around the base of his cock, and he presses the swollen, dripping head of his cock against your folds, trailing downwards as he parts them to your opening, groaning in pleasure as he slips in half an inch.

His hand leaves his cock as he leans back over you, arm landing next to your shoulder, as he gently presses his hips forward, sliding in as you shut your eyes in overstimulation. By the time his hips press against your own and he’s sheathed in you to the hilt, your eyes flutter open as you let out a breath you were holding. Arthur’s other arm comes up to bracket you in, his mouth hanging open as a strand of his honeyed-brown hair falls forward between his eyes.

He lowers himself down to his elbows to press himself completely against you, seeking out your lips again as he bucks his hips forward, causing you to mewl into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, one hand cupping the back of his head, fingers threading into his long hair, grasping it tightly as he settles into a rhythm of rolling his hips back and forth.

You pull on his hair and he groans, thrusting hard into you in response. Seems like you aren’t over your surly mood. He finds a hard and punishing rhythm, again feeling good to work his muscles after his convalescence.  It had been much longer than that since he’s worked these particular muscles.

“A-Arthur-” You moan loudly as he continually strokes that spot within you. He grunts in response, pulling his cock nearly out of your cunt before slamming his hips back into you.

You shriek in pleasure, and for a moment he’s thankful he’s marooned the two of you on this island yards away from the shore of the lake.

“Y’gonna come for me?” He harshly whispers into your ear, “Y’gonna come on my cock?”

That does it.

You cry out, back arching against him, head thrown back into the grassy dune, a high keening sound that makes him moan helplessly in response, gyrating his hips as your cunt clenches hard around his length, warm and wet and perfect.

“Fuck - fuck - woman…” He groans, rutting forward as you come down from your high, his cock pulsing and covered in your warm slick, and he is forced to pull himself from you, gliding out as he sits back on his knees and starts to pump himself.

You look up and god, is he a sight. His hips buck forward as he strokes his length, his mouth hanging open and muscles of his abdomen clenching under his shirt tails. A low moan escapes him as his other hand flies to cover the head of his cock, and he comes with his eyes screwed shut, looming over you.

He pants, for several moments, before opening his eyes. You sit up, needing, needing more, and you loop your hands around his neck again and pull his lips to yours, pressing your tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, but leans into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours.

You pull back, a smile creeping across your face, and as he opens his eyes, he cannot help the same.

“Is that how your lessons always end?” You laugh as he tucks himself away with his clean hand, leaning to the side to wipe his other hand in the grass as a half a smile creeps across his face.

“Only when the student is difficult.” He rumbles, tucking his shirt back into his pants as you start to pull your skirts down over your thighs.

“Mm.. I do remember you offering to teach me to shoot before Blackwater.”

Arthur arches an eyebrow as he rebuttons his pants and slides his suspenders back up. “Y’gonna be a brat about it?”

“Of course.”

He smirks, reaching for his hat on his knees. You push yourself up to stand, shaking your skirt free of sand and grass as you look for where you tossed your bloomers in your fit of passion.

“Arthur.”

“Mhm?” He replies, running his hand through his long hair before placing his hat back on his head.

“How are we going to get back to shore?”

-

Hosea smokes a cigarette sitting by the scout fire, the sun having gone down some time ago.

He’s starting to feel a niggle of concern that the two of you aren’t back. The both of you can certainly take care of yourselves.

You’re stalking back toward your tent, your clothes soaking wet, hair plastered down your neck. You refuse to give Hosea even a passing glance as you head back to the women’s tent.

Hosea arches an eyebrow as Arthur walks closer, also fuming. Also soaking wet. The gunslinger looks at Hosea briefly before carrying on.

“Lesson didn’t go as planned.”

[sarahsmi13s]

Friday Night Moonlight

for @roosterforme 's rocktober event!!

pairing: robert 'bob' floyd x reader (slight high school au)

characters: bob floyd, reader (nickname dolly), beckett fletcher, misc high school kids

warnings: language, cheating, high school drama, pining, best friends to sorta lovers, the ending may be rushed, there's a kiss, fighting, toxic boyfriend, please let me know if i missed anything

word count: ~4.5k

a/n: the song that inspired this is the nitty gritty dirt band's fishin' in the dark, and taylor swift's you belong with me music video (she was born in the 80's 😅) em, i want to apologize for getting this up so late! i got bogged down with whumptober, but i'm here!

summary: having been best friends since childhood, bob knows just what you need to feel better after a nasty break up

You and Bob had been neighbors your entire life. Your bedroom window had been right across from his since you were both toddlers and you played in your backyards while your parents drank coffee or watched the football games on Saturdays.

Also, you and Bob both had cousins that participated in Friday night events so you often played in the grass, completely ignoring the game and just enjoying getting to stay up past your bedtime. You even wrote notes in sketchbooks and talked through your windows when you were supposed to be in bed.

And even now, in your senior year of high school, you still did that.

Talking through your windows like you were passing notes in class, which you also did and you never once got caught.

You also got to see parts of each other you never let your parents see, and never spoke about outside of your sketchbooks.

The sad parts, the angry parts, all of it stayed on pieces of paper, hidden between two pieces of cardboard and bound together with flimsy metal spirals.

Until tonight…

Bob glanced up from his homework, looking towards your window to check on you and your AP Calculus homework. 

But all he found was you on your feet, pacing around your room as you heatedly spoke into your phone, unoccupied arm flailing about as you argued with whoever was on the other end. It was no doubt your boyfriend.

Ah yes…  Your boyfriend, the star running back on the football team — Beckett Fletcher.

Bob and Beckett weren’t the fondest of each other. Bob knew you deserved better and Beckett was threatened by your childhood best friend. But they tried their best to not let you catch on, sending one another looks when you weren’t paying attention.

But Bob wanted to tell you to leave, tell you that Beckett is no good for you. Because if Bob ever saw you on your phone and you were either crying or angry… chances were it was Beckett on the other end of the line.

And Bob despised it.

Ever since you were children, Bob never liked to see you sad. He always found a way to cheer you up, whether it was getting you to laugh or just simply distracting you with a cartoon and cuddles on the couch.

He found a way to take your pain away.

Watching you intensely as you talked, Bob was already reaching for his sketchbook.

Once you threw the phone on your bed and you sat at your desk by the window, you looked up and saw that Bob had a note ready. The letter’s scribbled across reading, “what’s wrong?” rather than what they usually read which was “are you okay?”

Man… you really needed to shut your curtain when you’re on the phone with Beckett.

You didn’t like Bob seeing the faults in your relationship, seeing that the foundation was cracked just so he could tell you it was a bad investment because of the unstable ground. 

You were trying so hard to keep this relationship standing, it was the only way to get over your feelings for your best friend, to forget the piece of paper you tucked away in your night stand 6 years ago… but Beckett was making it really hard.

And now you were really debating if staying with him was worth it… and Bob could see it.

Sighing, you picked up your own sketchbook and thick Sharpie, writing your message down before flipping it to show him. 

“drama, i’m just sick of it”

You were lucky that Bob couldn’t see your tears through the glass and you tried your best to keep it hidden from him by not letting your shoulders move as you silently cried. 

Bob frowned, he wasn’t aware of any drama at the school. And being the fly on the wall he tends to be, he knows a lot of the drama. So this was clearly a sign that this was internal in your relationship and exclusive to locker room and cheer practice talk, which he was not privy to as he was in band – a percussionist no less, they had their own things going on.

But even still, you liked to share your drama with him, sitting in the backyard while your parents watched the Sooners play on Saturday night. It was y’all’s thing, but over the past few weeks you never shared cheer drama with him and you both just chatted about what you both knew and then changed the subject completely to something else.

He knew something was wrong but… this wasn’t something you talk about over notes through a window, and you looked… tired.

So he gave you a sympathetic look and apologized, not happy that you just shrugged it off and gave him a less than convincing smile. But you were quick to throw up a ‘goodnight’ note, closing your curtain when you saw his note.

Bob frowned and looked at his drawer, pondering about the note left in there… a note he wrote a while back that he was too scared to show you.

Meanwhile, you turned your lamp off and collapsed into your bed, holding a stuffed bunny to your chest as you sobbed into your pillow.

Tomorrow wasn’t gonna be fun.

The next morning, you woke up looking like death hit you with a fighter jet.

You had fierce under eye bags and your cheeks were blotchy and red. Your upper lip and nose were raw from both your hand rubbing it and the tissues that were never as gentle as they claimed. 

Groaning, you did your best to cover it up, using the proper techniques your mother taught you to use with her estheticians license. You had to look put together for tonight because it was Friday and you had a home football game against one of your biggest rivals.

After your makeup was done and your hair was in dutch braids, a bow securing them together at the base of your neck with your ends curled in tight waves, you put your long sleeve uniform on. It was going to cool off once the sun went down so you needed to be prepared.

And after all that was said and done, you bid your parents a goodbye before walking out to meet Beckett at the curb so he can take you to school.

You had your license, but you didn’t have a car just yet so Bob had offered to take you to school and he did until you started dating Beckett and then you rode with him instead.

Except, you didn’t walk out with a smile on your face or that “cheerleader pep” in your step this time. No, because after your argument with him, you truly weren’t sure if he was even going to be outside this time or not.

And to your disappointment but not disbelief… your boyfriend wasn’t there.

But Bob was… your best friend was there, he was always there.

“Hey, Y/N! Do you need a lift? I’ve got plenty of room.” 

Hearing his voice in person was a bigger relief than you thought it was going to be. It was soothing for you, and you felt a gentle smile form on your face.

Instead of answering right away you walked over to him, prompting him to walk and meet you halfway.

“How are you doing? That conversation looked pretty heated…”

While his tone was gentle, Bob’s words were straight to the point. He knew that whatever was said had a great effect on you and a simple night’s sleep wouldn’t magically fix it all. 

“I’m okay. Just a dumb fight. It’s probably just his nerves, tonight is a big game and he’s got a lot riding on his shoulders,” you said, acceptance in your voice as you didn’t meet your best friend’s eyes.

Bob hated that. Hated the excuse you made for Beckett. Hated that you kept giving him the benefit of the doubt instead of just accepting that he was a shitty boyfriend.

You had been getting into more fights lately and you were either blaming yourself or excusing Beckett’s faults for the fact he was stressed out. 

Even if he was stressed, Bob wouldn’t ever make you feel like this. He would never make you feel like this, period, he loved you too much.

“Are you sure? You seem to be having a lot of fights the past few weeks, does it have to do with the drama you told me about?”

The way you sucked in a breath and played with the bottom of your uniform skirt told him all he needed to know.

“Dolly…”

Your head whipped up at the mention of your childhood nickname. Bob had given it to you because you carried around your bunny doll everywhere when you were little. He rarely used it anymore, so when he did – he was being serious.

“Bobby look I-”

Suddenly a car pulled up, “Hey babe, sorry I’m late.”

You looked over, seeing Beckett, “It’s alright Beck.” You looked at Bob, “I’ll see you later. Bye.” Bob waved, “See you later, Y/N.” 

Beckett sent Bob a glare as you got in the passenger seat before driving off as soon as your door was closed. Bob just rolled his eyes and huffed before getting in his car.

“So, what were you and Bob talking about before I pulled up?” Beckett asked as he drove away. You shrugged and buckled your seat belt, “It was nothing Beck.” He huffed a little, “Sure it was.” 

You scoffed but just shook your head and rested your hand on your fist. 

Beckett had really been bugging you about Bob lately. Asking you questions all the time. Accusing you of being with Bob when you missed a call. 

You knew him and Bob didn’t get along. But he had rarely ever accused you of having feelings towards him until recently. It was completely random because it came out of nowhere. It was causing so many fights and the stress was blowing small things way out of proportion.

It was killing your relationship.

The school day went by fairly quickly. It usually did on Fridays because a pep-rally in the middle of the day usually made the second half go by faster.

Most students went home to get ready for the game, maybe changing an outfit or doing makeup touch ups before coming back to the stadium. But not everyone did. The kids participating in the night’s activities, the football players, cheerleaders, and band members, stayed on campus or close to it so they weren’t late. Usually just going to grab a bite to eat or just hang out until it was time.

Bob usually went with you to go eat and hangout before you got with Beckett. But now he just chilled in the percussion room and practiced until he needed to get ready.

He tried to tune out the color guard next door, not real keen on listening in to their drama. But this time, something piqued his interest. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re kidding! There’s no way!” Mariah yelled, her voice going through the thin walls.

“Apparently so, it’s sad honestly. And Tamara knows that he’s still with Y/N!” Paige exclaimed.

That. That statement was what really got Bob’s attention.

Tamara was on the dance team, going there after not making it on the cheer squad. She had never been mean to you per say but it was pretty clear that she wasn’t your biggest fan.

And now it seems like she went straight for the throat and was keen on making your life hell your final year of high school.

“I know, and Y/N doesn’t even know… I hope she finds out soon or Beckett actually breaks up with her first. She’s clearly taking it hard.”

“They fight all the damn time, of course she’s not okay, Mariah.”

Bob clenched his fist, he was seething. 

This, this was the drama you were talking about and this was the reason Beckett kept picking fights with you.

He shook his head and pulled out his phone, he needed to talk to you.

You sat in the field house, smiling at Beckett as he drummed on your thigh. 

You both managed to make up before the game. Apologies on both sides and spending time together to really talk it out. So, now you both could focus on the game and not worry about your relationship.

“Fletch, c’mon, we gotta go get dressed,” Taylor, Beckett’s best friend said, not looking at you as he pointed to the locker room. Beckett nodded and kissed your cheek where his number was temporarily tattooed on your cheek, “I gotta go baby.” You nodded and kissed his lips, “Good luck, Beck.”

You smiled at Taylor and walked over to the cheerleaders.

“Dude, you have to tell her. Or I’ll tell her,” you overheard Taylor whispering. “Taylor, chill out. Everything’s fine.” 

You feel your heart drop, thoughts filling your mind before you shake them away. 

“Yeah Tamara told me-” Megan started before Jayme cut her off. “Girl, shut up.” “Why? I thought you wanted to talk about her and B-”

“Hey, Y/N, I see that you and Beckett are getting along again,” Kaitlyn said, once again cutting Megan off. 

You nodded, “Yeah, we had a decent conversation, talked a lot of things out. Still not smooth, but less rough than before.” Alicia nodded with a smile, “That’s good.” 

You nodded again and then your phone went off with a text. 

Meet me in the band room parking lot by my car. There’s something I need to tell you.

You sucked in a breath, “Hey, guys, I’ll um, I’ll be right back.” “Okay, practice can’t start without you. Don’t keep us waiting,” JJ said with a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I shouldn’t be too long.” 

You jogged out of the fieldhouse and down to the parking lot where Bob’s car was. 

Bob was leaning on the hood when you got to him.

“Hey, what did you-”

“Beckett’s cheating on you.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your heart was practically pounding in your ears now. 

“W-what?”

He stepped towards you and gently grabbed your arms as he looked down. “Beckett’s cheating on you with Tamara. Mariah and Paige were talking about it in the band room… I’m so sorry Y/N…”

You blinked at him before shaking your head and pushing him off of you, “No… No, you’re wrong. You’re lying.” You backed away from him, still shaking your head. “You’re supposed to be my friend. Why are you lying to me? Beckett wouldn’t–” Bob stepped forward desperately trying to get you to listen to him but you stepped back with your arms outstretched, “Don’t touch me.”

Bob's face fell, “Dolly… please. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

You shook your head, “He wouldn’t do that!” “I’m not lying! I heard them talking about it!” Bob defended, honestly feeling hurt that you thought he would do that to you.

You throw your arms up, the words you overheard in the fieldhouse flooding your mind and the things Beckett had said about Bob before.

“Look, Robert,” you hissed and began to talk with your hands. “I get that you might be jealous of Beckett, but lying to me and saying shit like this won’t help you.”

Your stomach churned nauseously as the venom slipped back down your own throat as Bob’s anger shifted into hurt and betrayal behind his lenses. You had never believed the words you just spat at him. Never once did you think that Bob would lie to you because he was jealous. He had never done it before, so why would he do it now?

But you were conflicted and you were hurt. You felt embarrassed that it seemed everyone knew what was going on in your relationship and you didn’t. You felt used and gullible. 

You knew you were misplacing your hurt and anger. Bob was just trying to help. But you had made up with Beckett and it all felt right again, Bob just happened to be the one that took off your rose tinted glasses. 

But before you could rectify yourself, Bob clicked his tongue and hung his head as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“You wanna be like that? Fine. Be like that, don’t believe me,” he shook his head and dropped his hands to his side. “You know where to find me when it crashes down on top of you.”

All you could do was cross your arms and look down at your white cheer shoes, which only made him scoff before he shook his head again. His shoulder collided with yours as he walked past, knocking you off your footing a little before going back inside the bad room.

You could only sniffle before shaking your head and walking up to the field house.

The game was finally over.

Your team won with, you guessed it, Beckett scoring the winning touchdown. 

You and Bob had just been thrumming with nerves the whole game. Bob was worried about you and he felt bad for just leaving you like he had instead of giving you a minute to process. But he guesses you were both acting off emotions.

You were anxious because you knew that other shoe had to drop. You just wanted to catch it before it landed on your heart. 

And even though they won, you still were anxious as you ran out onto the football field. 

“Beck! Beck! Beckett!” Taylor tried to fast walk by you as you tried to find your boyfriend. “Hey, Taylor,” you caught his arm. “Where’s Beckett?” Taylor looked down at you sympathetically before you watched his eyes flicker back the direction he came, “Y/N… I’m so sorry…” 

You furrowed your brow and he sighed before gently turning you.

And the other shoe dropped…

It dropped and sent 15 cleat studs into your heart.

There in the endzone was none other than Beckett Fletcher and Tamara Wilson making out like they had been dating for a year.

“I tried Y/N… I’m so sorry…” 

You sniffled and looked down at your grass stained cheer shoes, “Yeah because sorry is gonna fix the fact your sister is making out with my boyfriend…” Tears finally slipped down your face. “You know what, you can break up with him for me… I need to leave.”

Pulling your arm from his grip, you turned to go to the track and get your bag.

“Y/N wait–”

“Taylor, I-I can’t right now okay? I just… I need to go be with someone I wholeheartedly trust right now.”

You sniffled before wiping at your nose and running back towards the track.

Bob sighed and walked out of the band room and towards his car. He was ready to go home and just shower off the day and sleep.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked his car and opened the door.

And he saw the last thing he expected to see.

You.

You were curled up in the front seat of his car, with a mirror in hand scrubbing at your cheek with a McDonald’s napkin as you sobbed. He could see you practically shivering still being in your uniform that provided no warmth at all.

He knew why you were there and he wasn’t gonna say a damn thing. He knew better than to say I told you so or anything because that was shitty of him. 

You needed a friend, you needed him.

So, he got in and shut his door. “I have sweatpants in the backseat,” he said lowly as he started the car. “And a hoodie.” 

You sniffled and hiccuped a little, “Please…” He nodded and turned in his seat to get them from under his backpack. “Here ya go Dolly,” he said softly as he handed the items to you.

You put your mirror down and wiped at your raw, damp cheek to wipe away both tears and any remainder of that tattoo. You had taken your shoes off when you got in, so you just slipped the sweats on before wiggling your skirt down your legs. 

Wadding it up, you threw it in the backseat before practically ripping your bow out and doing the same. 

Bob just watched, patiently waiting on you and letting you collect yourself. 

“Robby I…” You started before a new wave of tears hit and you started sobbing into your hands. 

He frowned, hating the sound of you crying. But he didn’t want to attempt to coax anything out of you just yet, wanting you to just let it out. 

Gently, Bob turned you around so your back faced him. He carefully untied your ponytail before using his dexterous fingers to undo your braids. He gently massaged your head, knowing that it was a good way to calm you down.

Your sobs lessened to smaller whimpers and sniffles as he massaged the areas where you were sensitive, soothing you slowly. 

He smiled a little as you turned to face him.

“Robby, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. You were just trying to help… I didn’t believe what I said about you being jealous. I’m sorry I said it.”

You wrapped your arms around him and he immediately reciprocated. “I’m sorry for how I reacted. I should have been more patient, and maybe I should have been more gentle with it.” You sniffled into his shoulder, “I deserved it… I shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, Dolly, we’re not doing that. We’ve both acknowledged what we shouldn’t have done. We can work past it, because that’s what we do. We work together.” You nodded, “You’re right, you’re right.”

You pulled back and wiped your eyes, giggling a little when he held the hoodie out to you. You took it, trying to ignore the butterflies as your fingers brushed his and the scent of his body spray surrounding you as slipped the hoodie on. “Thank you, Robby.” 

He smiled at you, “Of course. Now let’s go, I’m sure we can hang out in the living room and watch your comfort movies.” You giggled, “You always know how to cheer me up.”

“I’ve known you for 13 years, I’d hope so,” he chuckled as he started driving out of the parking lot. You smiled over at him before resting your head against the window and closing your eyes as he turned the radio up a little more.

Bob nodded his head as he turned down your road, drumming the steering wheel as he listened to the radio. 

“You and me go fishin' in the dark. Lyin' on our backs and countin' the stars. Where the cool grass grows,” he sang quietly to himself. “Down by the river in the full moonlight. We'll be fallin' in love in the middle of the night. Just movin' slow. Stayin' the whole night through. It feels so good to be with you.”

He glanced over at you where you dozed off against the window. 

This was one of your favorite songs and normally you’d be banging his dashboard in a slightly off beat rhythm but he’d let it slide because you were so excited to hear the song.

He hummed along as he got close to your homes. But as he began to slow down he got an idea. 

So, instead of stopping, Bob drove past your houses and headed towards one of your favorite spots to go to clear your head.

Bob pulled up to and parked his car before getting out and going over to your side of the car.

He carefully opens the door and you jerk awake. 

“Ah! What the– Bobby, what’s going on?” You asked groggily as you rubbed your eyes.

“I took a detour. I figured you could use a late night trip to our spot,” he said with a playful smile. You gave him a tired smile, “Oh Bobby… thank you.” “Course, now c’mon.”

You giggled, “I can’t wear my cheer shoes, they’ll get dirty.” He grinned and opened the backdoor. “Well, it just so happens that last time we were here, you left your Converses back here.” 

Your jaw dropped, “I have been looking for these! And you mean to tell me that you’ve been keeping my shoes hostage!” He chuckled and knelt down to put them on your feet. 

Heat rose to your cheeks as he did, the action reminding you of when you were both little and you dressed up as a princess all the time and he happily played your knight. “How could you Bobby Floyd?”

“Oh hush,” he laughed as he tied them before helping you up. “Okay, let’s go.” You giggled as you closed the door and followed him to the river side.

You smiled at him as you both laid down. “C,mere Dolly,” he said as he pulled you into his side.

Smiling wider, you laid your head on his chest and sighed a little bit. “Thank you Robby, this really is what I needed.” He gently scratched your back, “I’m glad I could help.” You looked up at him, “My knight…” You trailed off as his moonlit baby blue eyes made eye contact with yours. 

Almost as if you were both on autopilot, you propped yourself up on your elbow and he cupped your cheek. Before either of you realized what was happening, your lips met.

This kiss was sweet and gentle, but it sucked the breath out of your lungs all the same.

It felt like you were connected forever, but when you pulled away it didn’t feel long enough.

Bob had turned bright pink and immediately began to apologize, “I-I– oh my goodness, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“Robby, Robby!” You cut him off by covering his mouth. “Hey, it’s okay. I kissed you back… I liked it… a lot.” 

He relaxed under your hand at your words and you think he’s gonna say something but he licks your hand. “Oh gross! I was trying to be sweet and you licked me!” You wiped your hand on the hoodie he was wearing. 

Bob chuckled, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He held your wrist gently as he sobered up, “I liked it too. But… I think we should wait, just because I want to make sure you’re ready…” You nodded, “I know, thank you.” You smiled and pecked his cheek. 

Laying beside him, you laced your fingers with his and rested your other hand on your stomach as you looked at the sky.

He smiled at you and watched your smile widened as you pointed to the clear night sky, counting the stars and pointing out constellations. 

The sight made Bob think back to the note in his desk drawer and a smile split his features. 

The note has waited 6 years, it can wait a little while longer.

hi, hello, thank you all for reading and making it to the end! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm so sorry this is late

top gun taglist <33: @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @nobody7102 @djs8891 @desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @horseshoegirl @hangmansgbaby @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @callsign-mongoose

sorry if i missed anyone on the taglist, my list in an absolute mess right now 😂

[sprucewoodmpreg]

really really love this screenshot bc it implies that cub saw grian standing at his ugly ass dock no sleep eyebags dropping staring at the water like a freako. and he was like man. grian is fishin real hard. probably shouldn't disturb him. and then he put the sign in a place grian is probably never going to check bc he hasn't moved from that fucking spot in a week

[xetswan]

The Switch of Daylight- Reincarnate Pt. 2

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[six] [seven] [eight]

That night I laid in my bed, casually going from staring at my ceiling to the books and the papers I have information written on. My eyes then flicker over to the whipped up papers from the letter that Alice and Jasper gave me. My fists begin to clench from the thought of how Sam knew that what was in that letter was about some prophecy that I'm in. ME. It's valuable to knowing what or who I am.

I go back to staring up at the ceiling. This was a the worst time for me. Especially because it's the loneliest. It was better when I had the Cullen's. I'd sneak out of the window when I knew Charlie was sleeping and go hang out with them until it was time for me to go back in the morning before my dad would check that I was sleeping in bed. It became a habit for him after I went missing. I knew he still had a hard time with it, it's something I feel guilty for knowing that eventually I'm going to have to fake my death. Alice and the other's, I knew they were right. That he's going to question me when I'm forty with no wrinkles. That's why I'm going to do it in a few years, when I know he's happier. When he's found someone for himself to lean on.

I just hope he isn't stubborn enough to not find that person.

I should call Billy Black before I forget.

Just then I get some weird energy burst through me, I sit upright quickly. I look around my room confused. "What the hell?" I whisper to myself, probably not even audible to a normal human. Standing up, I go over to the books. Feeling myself getting drawn over to them, which is strange. I read through them numerous times, I shouldn't have missed anything. I grab the second book, opening it up and flipping through it. Then as I sit back down on my bed, my eyes start to feel heavy. Like I was actually getting tired. I haven't felt this feeling for months. It was a feeling I didn't think I was going to miss.

I lay back down on the bed and let it take over my body.

But when I woke up I wasn't home. I was awake, it felt cloudy though, possibly a dream but more real. "[Name], help yer brother set up the fishin' trap!" A man's voice called out. I sat up from the bed I was in, glancing down to see the white cotton dress I wore. I scrunched up my face, confused on what was happening.

"[Name], come on! Didn't ya hear yer father?" A woman storms into the room I was in and I stare at her, not understanding what was happening. "I- what?" I spoke with uncertainty.

"Yer father told ya to help yer brother, [Name] and you ain't even dressed?" The woman tsk's at me, a baby on her hip who babbles adorably. "My father?" I rub my forehead, getting up from the bed. "[Name] Adkins, don't play dumb wit' me and do as yer told." She points a finger in my face before slamming the wooden door behind her. I glance around before going over to a dresser, pulling out some dress. I huff, staring at whatever kind of style this was.

"Where the fuck am I?" I go to pinch myself to wake up but nothing happens. I even feel the pain.

"Adkins? Who the fuck is Adkins?" I mutter to myself, throwing the dress over my head. Smoothing it out before looking around the room I'm in once again. It had a wooden dresser, then a strange mirror that seemed nailed into the wooden wall. I then look at my bed that had quilts laid on it with a two pillows.

"Strange." I finally leave the room, the house was smaller. It's like when you go to a museum type place that builds the houses from "the past", this is exactly what it looks like.

Are the Quileute boys playing some prank on me?

I go outside, a body comes up next to me, nudging me and I almost attack it. Then my body freezes once I notice who it was. "Jasper?" I step back. "Yes, darlin'?" He chuckles, pulling me in for a kiss. My body's tense as I let it happen. "Aren't you mad at me?" I ask once he lets me go. Not even realizing I was trying to catch my breath.

Catch my breath?

I then feel my heart beating and the sun down on me, a slight panic sets through me but I hide it. "Mad at you, whatever for, sweetheart?" Jasper questions me, he takes my arm in his and we are walking to a small boy who's setting up some wired trap. "For... for-" I look at his clothes, he's wearing a loose white button up with pants that seemed maybe a little tight. And to top it off a cowboy hat on the top of his head. "I don't know." I laugh nervously. It all catching up with me, his accent, his outfit, the mysterious woman.

This is a past life.

My first life. 

"All right, if you say so, darlin'." He kisses my cheek before joining the little boy to help him with the trap he was making.

"Honey, can you hold Jesiah while I start up dinner?" The same woman comes over to me, handing me the baby before I can even respond. "Uh, of course." I mutter out. My memories of this life are a little fuzzy. I'm slowly remembering though. The little boy, making the trap is Jakov my younger brother who's 9, the baby is obviously Jesiah. My father, he's Jakov too, my brother is named after him. And the mysterious woman, she's my mother, Willow.

I carefully walk down the hill with the baby, sitting down near Jasper and Jakov.

This seems like a really simple life. Jasper is my love in my first ever life. Who would've thought? I know I saw him in the dessert field before I was killed but I didn't know we actually knew each other. Why didn't he tell me?

"Darlin'! You alright? You seem dazed." Jasper comes up to me, I smile over at him. "Just remembering something about you." I answer him, it's the truth I am. He just doesn't know it's from his future. "What about me?" He nudges me with his elbow before tickling my baby brother a little bit, just enough to make him smile. "How we first met." I lean my head on his shoulder.

"Oh wow, that's been quite some time." He chuckles, wrapping an arm around me and we both watch my little brother use the fishing trap they just put together. "Now we're finally to be wed..." He whispers, my eyes widen quickly covering it up even though he doesn't see it. How didn't I remember this when I got my memories back? I feel something on my neck and I go to feel it. It's a locket. Almost like the one my father gave when I moved to Forks. I look down at it and it's the exact one...

And just as I go to ask him a question everything starts to get tiring. My eyes getting heavy, and as much as I try to fight it, I fall asleep with my head on Jasper's shoulder.

I thought this time I would wake back up to my real home. My life I'm supposed to be in right now but instead I wake up in a hospital. Confused I rub my head, sitting up.

A nurse comes in, her face was skinny, her eyes sunken in like she hasn't slept in weeks. "Please, no trouble today, [Name]." She has a syringe needle on a tray with other things, placing it down in-front of me. I stay quiet, letting her do what she needs to do. "You're not going to bite today?" She seemed relieved, I mean I would too knowing someone wasn't going to bite me in a what I'm guessing is a mental hospital. "No." I whisper, rubbing my arm after she gets done with what she's doing.

"Why am I here?" I question quietly. "Don't mess with me [Name]." She scoffs in my direction, writing something down in a file. "I'm not." I truthfully tell her. "You tried to jump off of a bridge, you can't tell me you don't remember that, [Name]." She places her hands on her hips after placing the file down.

"Why am I still here?" I ask, trying to act like that was my actual question and not the first one. "You've resisted help and fought the staff until today, which is strange I might add." Her voice was hoarse, raspy even. "Oh, sorry." I glance away from her.

"I'm going to get the doctor to check you and then it's time for breakfast." She rolls her eyes, leaving the room, shutting the door behind her and I'm alone in the room again.

I stand up, seeing a mirror across from me. I look at myself in the mirror. It's definitely a two way mirror. Someone could be on the other side of it watching me. I squint my eyes to check if I can see anything, knowing that I can't I move on to the next thing in the room. A water bottle. Man, I might look crazy right now. I guess it fits being where I am. I can't believe one of my lives I wanted to die. I actually wanted death. What happened to me? My memories of my past lives are being subjective and I'm not enjoying this at all.

The door suddenly opens to show a man in a white coat. I back away from him instinctively. My arms tingle with goosebumps. The hairs standing up on my skin and I suddenly feel like I'm in danger.

"Hey, it's just me" Yeah I think that's the problem. "Take a seat on the bed." He tells me and I shake my head. Why do I feel this way? "[Name] you were being so cooperative I heard, what happened?" There's a smile on his face but it doesn't feel welcoming. "Hey the sooner you do as you're told the sooner you can get out of here." He tries to come near me but I back away once more, accidentally falling onto the bed anyways. "See, wasn't so hard." He grabs the stool from across the room, scooting it over to the bed I'm now sitting on. "Alright, have you been taking your medicine?"

And dejavu kicks in. I remember this. I wasn't taking the medicine, I hid it under my tongue then threw it away. "Yes." I lie. I obviously did it for a reason. This isn't real anyways. I'm reliving past things. I think...

The consultation was long, but luckily now they're letting me out of this room to go eat breakfast. A nurse walked beside me, a file in hand, she was writing as she walked. I observed the hospital around me, the people I mean. They were all different. Obviously, that was stupid to say.

The nurse helped me get my food and then I sat down by myself. I begin to eat the crappy food, thankfully it didn't taste like sand. I miss having tastebuds like I used to. Caught in thought about missing food I didn't even see the smaller body that sat in front of me. When I glanced upwards I see it's Alice.

My Alice.

She seems more frail than I've ever seen her. She smiles at me and I do it back. Now trying to see if I can remember anything.

I'm only seeing bits and pieces of things in my mind, we've kissed in this life. "Did he do anything this time?" She speaks. I look up at her confused. "He?" I question. "Doctor Monse. Did he try to hurt you again?" She asks, my eyes widen slightly. That's why I felt danger around him...

"He didn't." I say, I notice her shoulders relax. "Good, you're being cooperative now." She smiles, she didn't ask this, it was a statement. I wonder how she knew. "Yes." I admit. "My words finally gotten to your head?" I feel her hand reach for mine underneath the table, I take it immediately. "Your words?" I smile back to her, tilting my head. "How you should take your chance to leave, and just visit me instead of keeping yourself cooped up here." She reminds me and my mouth goes in the shape of an 'o'.

"Right." I nervously laugh quietly. "I don't want to, but I could help us become something out there." I tell her, mentally I'm confused by my own words. It's like it wasn't me who actually said it. "Love, you don't need to worry about an us. I'm stuck here." She rubs my hand with her thumb.

"I can get you out." I assure her, she stays quiet this time, only a shake of her head in response before we're all told lunch time is about to be over.

Looking at her I start to become tired. "No." I whisper. Sitting up straight and letting go of Alice's hand. "Are you alright?" She asks me in a mumbled tone. "I want to be here with you a little longer." I urge out, trying to fight the tiredness. "Love bug you have to go home." She tells me, the nickname. That was always my nickname? My chest rises and falls in a quick pace. I don't want to leave. Not yet. Even if this is a dream somehow. Please... I didn't realize my time was going to be so short in my past lives.

And now it's dark.

When I wake up, I'm not gasping for air. I'm not breathing anymore. I'm home again. "Damn it!" I shout, punching my bed, unintentionally breaking one of the boards underneath. "Shit." I whisper, standing up, and on the floor is the second book I was holding before I fell asleep and went into some weird whatever thing that was. I pick it up and open it to a random page.

"Reincarnate's Soulmates."

Soulmate's as in multiple?

I swear I didn't see this page when I read through it before.

I need Jasper and Alice here. I don't understand any of this.

I need to call Billy or Sam. I don't care. I need help understanding what's going on.

[bigification]

Just one of the Boys

I feel so free now. Being able to go hitch hiking across the country after university is such an amazing opportunity. Some of the conversation is really weird, some of it is just plain boring, but I shouldn't be complaining though considering these people are driving me around for free. I mainly just get truckers who have been driving with nothing but the radio all day. This time was weird though. A truck full of older men picked me up while I was walking on the side of the road.

"Hop in buddy!" The man in shotgun shouts at me as they pull over.

It seems odd, but it beats walking and it might lead to some interesting conversation. As interesting as middle aged men in Texas have to say at least. I hop in the back of the truck and I'm immediately squished from the man sitting next to me and the seat in front of me. All three of the men in this truck must have been around 300 pounds each, I have no idea why they thought there would be room for another person. I can manage because I'm a relatively small person, but fuck is it not comfortable.

"Name's Tom." The man driving says in a deep southern accent. "This here is Kent." He taps the man riding shotgun. "And the fellow right next to ya is Luke."

"Denis, nice to meet you guys." I say awkwardly as they all stare at me.

"So what is a boy like you doin' in the middle of nowhere." Tom asks.

"Well I just graduated, so I figured I would travel the world before I settle down."

"Once you get a wife, they'll tie ya down like a ton a bricks. Better have your fun while ya can." Luke says and punches my shoulder as the three men erupt into laughter. I just chuckle and smile along, I have the feeling this is gonna be a long trip.

"We come out here every chance we get to fish, and it gives us a break from the family. Just a weekend fishin trip with the boys." Kent says.

"Why don't you grab a beer boy, we got plenty."

"Oh I don't really drink beer, but thanks anyway."

"Why, is it cuz your scared it'll make ya look like us." Luke says as he pats his gut.

"Grab one would ya, what's the harm." Tom insists.

I give in, I don't particularly like beer but I'll drink it if they want me to that bad. I open the cooler behind my seat and see dozens of full beer cans. It kinda shocks me given how many empty can are in the truck, they must have already drank nearly a dozen in the car ride and they have that many more. No wonder they're 300 pounds.

"You gotta girlfriend, boy?" Tom asks as I crack open my beer. The question makes me pause for a moment. I'm hesitant to tell them I have a boyfriend back home, but telling them I don't have a girlfriend technically wouldn't be a lie.

"No" I nervously respond.

"Well the girls are dumb to not want ya."

I wasn't expecting such a sweet response, but that was nice.

"Ya plenty of girls are into chubby guys like you, in sure you won't have no problem getting yourself a wife."

The comment kind of surprised me considering I'm a pretty skinny guy.

"Luke! The hell's wrong with you, that's no way to speak to a guest."

I look down and I'm shocked to see a small belly poking through my shirt. What the hell!? I had basically no fat on my body like 10 minutes ago, what happened.

"Don't listen to Luke, he's just being a dick."

Their words surprisingly comforted me. I started to remember all the partying I did in university, and all the beer I drank, it's no wonder I have a little bit of a beer belly.

"Well what have you done since university?"

The question confused me a bit considering I said I had just graduated before leaving for this trip.

"I just graduated."

"Oh, I just assumed it's been a while since you look a bit too old to be just graduatin school."

The comment confused me even more, I don't look a day older than 22. I glance at the rearview mirror and see my face in the reflection. I look.. at least 30. The more I think about it the more it makes sense though, I've been a software engineer since graduating.

"Oh ya, you had me all confused, I'm a software engineer."

"Rich guy over here, that must make you a lot of money."

"It makes enough." I try not to elaborate.

Tom cuts into the conversation. "Why don't you have another beer boy, we got plenty of time."

I might as well, I guess I can stay with them as long as they let me. I grab another beer and crack it open.

"With a pretty face like yours and a job like that, you must have a beautiful wife don't ya."

I just told them I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't know why I lied about that. Now that I think about it, I have a wife and daughter.

"And a beautiful baby back home." I say proudly.

"Well that explains the belly growin on ya. A man your age doesn't get a tank like that unless he's got a kid."

"Luke, would ya stop it with the comments about his belly, your makin him uncomfortable."

I look down at my gut again and see that it's doubled in size since I last looked at it. But then again, I have been gaining a lot of weight since the baby was born, so it makes sense. I might be needing some new clothes now that I look at it, my shirt is riding up my belly.

"It's alright." I respond. "Ever since the baby, I haven't been able to control this belly."

"We know the feelin. We all met before we got married and we were all 150. I still remember Tom hit 300 by the time his first turned 1 and we never let him hear the end of it."

"Don't listen to them Denis. Kent hit 300 before his first kid was even born, those beers really took a toll."

As they're talking, I grab another beer. I feel like I'm going through these beers like they're nothing, they taste amazing.

"Just considering yourself lucky that you didn't hit 300 pounds by the time you turned 40."

"Well I certainly am gettin there." I'm shocked as I hear a southern twang in my voice when I say that.

"Ya sure are, that shirt don't fit ya like it used to."

I look down and see that my gut is spilling out onto my lap, my shirt has ridden up nearly to my chest. It looks more like a bra at this point.

"Why don't you grab one of my fishin shirts back there, it might fit ya better."

It's slightly embarrassing, but I appreciate the offer. I grab a white shirt from behind my seat and put it on. It's surprisingly tight on me considering these guys are so much bigger than me. Honestly now that I look at them, they're not even that big, at least not that much bigger than me. Id say it's about average for a man our age to be this big. Only those millennials with their damn diets stay skinny, it's not our fault real men like their beer and steak. I kinda pause in shock that the thought ran through my mind, but I slowly felt more confident in that opinion.

"So I'm sure you've got teenagers by this age, they must be a handful."

"Oh I've got two, they really push my buttons sometimes. They're why Ive got so many grey hairs already."

"Well you must be pushing 50, just be glad you ain't got more. Luke went full grey by 40."

"With the way his wife treats him, I'm surprised he even has any hair left."

I joke, making the boys erupt into laughter. It kinda felt weird makin a joke about Luke's wife when I've never met the woman, but I met her just last week at the barbeque. She really is a handful. It felt good makin the boys laugh, I really feel like I'm fittin in good with them.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you Denis, ever since you met that wife a yours, that waistline has never been the same."

"That's right, I still remember when we met you way back, you were just a skinny young man. You must have been 140 pounds soakin wet, and now look at ya, you can't even fit into your own damn clothes."

I blush with embarrassment as I look down and see that my fly is wide open. My button must've flown right off without me noticing.

"It's all those damn beers he's been drinkin"

Luke punches my shoulder and points at the pile of empty beer cans at my feet. I didn't even realize how many I went through, and I barely feel drunk. Though it is pretty normal for big guys like me to have to drink more to get drunk, I sure as hell don't mind drinking more.

"Oh get off his ass Luke, you know damn well you drink just as much as him. And by the way Denis, we don't mind if you need to take your pants off if they get too small."

It seems strange that Tom would say that, but we've known each other for so long now so who cares. It's not gay if I still have my underwear on. I struggle to pull the skin tight jeans to my ankles and relax as my legs spread.

"Alright boys, we made it."

We pull into a long driveway with a small cabin by the water. Everyone hops out and grabs their stuff before walkin to the cabin. I sheepishly get out of the truck with my pants at my knees.

"Damn, you've really packed it on since our last fishin trip." Tom says as he slaps my gut, it looks almost like he's salivating lookin at me. "You must be the biggest in the group now."

I blush at the compliment. I fully take off my jeans and walk to the cabin. I'm shocked to see how small the cabin is. It has one room with a kitchen and living room on one side and two small beds on the other.

"Where's everyone gon' sleep?"

"Those two beds right there. Luke and Kent can share that bed, you'll be with me boy."

He pushes me into the bed.

"I'm gonna have fun fattening you up like the pig you are."

I look over to the other bed and see that Luke and Kent are already makin out.

"Hey, eyes on me fat boy. Consider this your initiation as one of the boys."

Tom pins me under his weight and starts kissin me. I'm certainly not gay, but Tom is a handsome fella so I certainly won't mind. Oh and the ways he touches me, my wife could never. It's like the devil is tempting me, I'll just have to confess when I go to church next sunday. But then I'll do it all again next fishin trip with the boys.

[poguesmaybank]

Leverage Episode Battle

The Big Bang Job: Season Three, Episode Fifteen. When The Italian tells the team that Damien Moreau is on his way to Washington, they must form a plan to prevent Moreau from selling a bomb at an auction, only for the plan to hit a snag when Eliot reveals to the team that he once worked for Moreau.

The Gone-Fishin' Job: Season Three, Episode Seven. The team works to take down a con-man using his collection agency posing as the IRS to fund a private revolution. But when his militia takes Eliot and Hardison captive, without the others knowing about it, Sophie, Parker and Nate are left on their own to complete the con.

[yuurei20]

Jade and Floyd Info Compilation part 31: Leona (pt 2)

Floyd asks Leona to dance after the events of Spectral Soiree but Leona turns him down, saying that while he isn’t the type to hold a grudge, he wants Floyd to stay out of his sight.

Ace backs Leona up, blaming Floyd for picking a fight with the ghosts, but Leona and Floyd find common ground by teasing Ace about his line of “The Hallowenders aren’t goinna lose, period!”

Floyd and Leona join forces again during Vargas Camp against the mine monster.

Jade approaches Leona during the Spectral Soiree halloween party, offering him a drink and asking to hear about a recent incident involving Floyd.

Leona apologizes immediately to Jade’s surprise, but Jade insists on hearing about what happened between the two of them, saying, “It might help prevent him from causing you future bother.”

When Leona comments that is doesn’t sound like Jade has a lot of faith in Floyd, Jade explains, “Floyd is my one and only brother. Isn’t it natural I would be concerned about his conduct?”

There is a flashback to a Spelldrive practice where Floyd tried to interject himself despite not being on the Spelldrive team, offering to go head-to-head with Leona (“You’ll have way more fun fightin’ me than these small fry”), but Leona outright ignored him.

Leona apologizes for it a second time, explaining that he “might’ve inadvertently ignored Floyd” (he has a voice line about just ignoring Floyd because fighting him isn’t worth it, so that might be Leona’s go-to tactic for dealing with Floyd in general).

Jade explains, “Floyd has a certain admiration for strong people. You’re a rather formidable Spelldrive player and an equally capable mage. He must have wanted to fight you in earnest.”

(Like Jack, Floyd has a thing for wanting to fight people at their strongest.)

Leona says that he doubts he would live up to Floyd’s expectations and abruptly ends the conversation, saying that Jade had better go to someone else if he is trying to “sniff out intel” for his job.

Jade says, “Why, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. I’d prefer to keep speaking with you personally…I was simply trying to get to know you better.”

Leona counters with, “There’s only one reason you’d use your precious family as an excuse to get close to me. You’re fishin’ for blackmail material…I don’t want owe anyone from Octavinelle anything. So I gave you a conversation in return for the drink you brought me.”

Jade says that he has learned something new today about Leona’s social conscientiousness and hopes that they will be able to speak again soon.

(Jade also offers Jack a drink during the same Halloween party, which Jack accepts. It is unclear if the drink was meant to be compensation for Jack’s conversation with Floyd, or if Jack is now unknowingly in Jade’s debt as a result.)

During Book 3 Jade observes that Leona would be a troublesome man to have as an enemy and that he was “under the impression that (Leona) had no interest in creating disputed with his fellow housewarden, Azul,” asking Grim's group how they managed to “bend him to (their) will.”

[transmutationisms]

Her first task: assemble a team of development executives to rummage through Mattel’s toy chest and identify I.P. that could be fodder for Hollywood studios. Mattel would help match properties with writers, actors, and directors; studios would provide all the funding. The brands, and audiences’ familiarity with them, were their own form of currency. Brenner told me, “In the world we’re living in, I.P. is king. Pre-awareness is so important.”

[...]

The gamble now looks like a smart one. The hyper-saturated trailers for “Barbie” have sparked endless memes, and interest in the film’s aesthetic sensibility, which mimics the look of Mattel play sets, is so intense that the hashtag #Barbiecore trended on TikTok for months. The movie, which opens in mid-July, is tracking to be one of the blockbusters of the summer. Meanwhile, Mattel has amassed a long slate of other projects. Daniel Kaluuya, for example, has agreed to produce a feature about Barney, the purple dinosaur. Thirteen more films have been publicly announced, including movies about He-Man and Polly Pocket; forty-five are in development. (Some of the projects have an ouroboros quality. Tom Hanks is supposed to star in “Major Matt Mason,” which will be based on an astronaut action figure that has been largely forgotten, except for the fact that it helped inspire Buzz Lightyear—one of the protagonists of Pixar’s “Toy Story” franchise.)

Barber told me that Mattel had figured out how to “engage with filmmakers in a friendly way.” Gerwig, meanwhile, was looking to move beyond the small-scale dramas she was known for. “Greta and I have been very consciously constructing a career,” Barber explained. “Her ambition is to be not the biggest woman director but a big studio director. And Barbie was a piece of I.P. that was resonant to her.”

[...]

Talk turned to a few recent pitches that had surprised the team. “Somebody just asked me about Bass Fishin’, which is, like, a toy fishing rod,” Bassin said. The pitch was for an “intense sports drama about this cheating scandal in competitive fishing”—an attempt, it seemed to me, to Trojan-horse a story that the writer actually wanted to tell into a conceit that might be green-lighted.

After the meeting, McKeon told me that it was possible to incorporate complex characters and emotions into toy-based properties, though not every brand could support mature themes. “Thomas the Tank Engine isn’t going on a bender with his friends,” he said. But “Major Matt Mason” could be reimagined as a “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”-esque drama for adults: “It’s prestige-y and asks really pointed questions about life and our place in the universe.” He went on, “Our top priority is to make really good movies—movies that matter, and that make a cultural footprint. Our second priority is to make sure that we do no disservice to the brands.”

found this article helpful in contextualising the medium piece that’s been circulating on here

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

Hello! Love your work!

Can you do headcanons for Hosea with a daughter? (Or child if you'd prefer gender neutrality)

She's his kid with Bessie, and I was wondering how the two would be, growing up in the gang, how he'd be as a father, how she'd be with the other members, whatever you'd like to write!

As for her age, I'm thinking young adult during the events of the game, maybe John's age too

Thank you!

Hosea with a Child

Gender Neutral language!

Genre: Fluff! Some angst - No game spoilers Featuring: Dad!Hosea, Platonic John, Platonic Arthur Warnings: Mentions of death and grief

AN: I hope you like these! I really enjoyed writing this request it was so cute and fun to think about Hosea as a dad raising a kid in the gang <3 Thank you so much

---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions!

<><><><>

Childhood Years:

According to Hosea, you were the only good thing he had ever done with his life.

Being his only child with Bessie, you were spoiled as much as he could afford. As an infant you were given the warmest blankets, the softest toys, and the most attention he could give you.

That short period of time where he left the gang was around the time that you were born after him and Bessie’s wedding. He wanted to give you a proper childhood away from the hardship of the life of an outlaw.

As he said himself, though, the life just draws you back in.

When he went back to Dutch he brought you and Bessie with him.

Hosea worshiped and adored you. Everything he did in the gang he convinced himself was for you and Bessie.

He told you the story of Robin Hood as you grew old enough to understand stories before bedtime. He’d sit you in front of the fire and smile as you gazed up at him in wonder while he told the tale of the hero who stole from the rich to give to the poor.

During the earlier years of the gang, when they still stole for the good of others in one way or another, you always thought of Hosea as Robin Hood - he was a hero to you.

You started calling Dutch “Uncle Dutch” and considered many other members of the gang as family.

You were only eight when Arthur was brought in to the group. You followed him like a shadow and it warmed Hosea’s heart to see you trying to play with another kid (even though Arthur was fourteen by this time - he was still the youngest person for you to hang around).

Since Hosea eventually started viewing Arthur as a son, you viewed him as your badass older brother.

Teen Years:

By the time you turned fifteen, you were expected to start contributing to the gang. Most of the time you were just a pickpocket. Hosea didn’t want you robbing trains or putting yourself in any real danger, and Bessie wouldn’t allow you to do anything that could taint your soul (as she would put it).

For a while you were just quick and sneaky.

Arthur watched over you whenever you went into town to grab a few coins and watches from the people walking through the streets just in case anyone caught on to your act and you needed assistance.

You whined to Hosea that you felt like he didn’t trust you to take care of yourself since Arthur was always babysitting you, Hosea said he’d figure something out. He knew you could take care of yourself, of course.

He fixed it by telling Arthur to be sneakier while he was watching you.

Once you turned sixteen, Hosea started taking you on hunting trips with him. He wanted to make sure you could take care of yourself and your mom in case anything happened to him.

“Give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, he’ll eat forever.” He’d say on nearly every hunting trip the two of you went on.

“But we’re hunting deer, Pop, not fishin’.” You’d correct him and he’d just wave his hand in the air as if to dismiss you. “Same concept, kid.” He’d retort.

At seventeen, John joined the Van Der Linde gang. It was the first time there was someone exactly your age near you daily that you got to interact with.

At first, John was following Arthur around like a puppy and it made you so jealous. You complained to Hosea about it, you said John was taking your brother from you and it wasn’t fair.

Hosea laughed lightly whenever you dramatically groaned and whined and told you to give it time, John would become your friend as well.

Hosea was right of course, as always. After a month or two the amazement over Arthur Morgan wore off and John became a great friend of yours.

The two of you bickered a lot, though. Being the same age and all, you were constantly at each other’s throats.

Bessie always said that you and John were like an old married couple. That comment caused you two to look at each other gag over dramatically.

Young Adulthood (around the events of the game):

When your mom, Bessie, died a part of you died with her. Hosea might as well have died too.

For a year, he never left his bed and when he did it was only to grab another bottle of whiskey to drown his sorrows in.

Some days were better than others during he grieving, but there were weeks that would go by when he couldn’t bear to look at you.

You had Bessie’s eyes and her smile. You had all the best parts of Bessie and seeing her in you but not seeing her made Hosea’s heart shatter all over again.

During this time you depended on Arthur and John to be your rocks. They were the ones who kept your focus away from the black hole of grief eating away at your insides. And during the days that the grief was too much to handle, they pat your back and held your hand while you let yourself rot away in bed.

Some nights John would come to see you when he couldn’t sleep and the two of you would cry over Bessie until you drifted out of consciousness.

Everyone felt her death deeply.

As time goes by, your wounds have healed as have Hosea’s. He sobered up and after a long crying session where all you two did was hold each other and reminisce over Bessie, you were a family again.

During the events at Blackwater, you were Hosea’s first priority. He got you packed and to safety as fast as he could once it was time to flee.

In that huge snowstorm on your way east, Hosea gave you his extra jacket and gloves to keep you warm. You rode in the wagon with Abigail and Jack, huddling with them for warmth and assuring them that John would be okay and back soon.

For a while after Blackwater, Hosea refused to let you out of his sights. After what happened with Bessie and the chaos that was that whole situation, you were the only thing he lived for. He couldn’t have anything happen to you.

You didn’t complain, either. You didn’t want to be away from him for a while. You were terrified during Blackwater, terrified you’d lose him or John or Arthur. You let him baby you and watch over you like a hawk as long as it gave his mind peace.

At Horseshoe Overlook, you went hunting with Hosea as often as you could. It was like a tradition for the two of you.

“Give a man a fish,” He’d start his lecture on the importance of learning survival skills and you’d have to stifle a groan and a laugh.

You’d probably heard that phrase nearly a million times at that point. He always said fish, too. Never changed it for whatever you were hunting.

Hosea wasn’t only your father, but your best friend. He was the best person you knew despite his occupation, and you adored him with your entire being.

He wasn’t technically a good man, but he was a great dad.

<><><><>

I hope you enjoyed these!! Thank you for reading

[toxooz]

Do you have a backstory posted for ramsuse? I think he’s an interesting character and you’ve said he used to be human so I’m very curious 🙂

ROIGHT SO i gotta See it with my own eyes so i drew lil illustrations to go with it so letsa go buckle UP yall ALSO tw for like graphic gory description and suicide mention aaand i think thats it OK:

waay back arooound 1870's I'd say behold a man! Ramsuse was a very well distinguished hunter who also did bounty hunting. Being a big brawny man he had a big brawny horse as well who was named Appocolus, a shire draft horse (the Big Ol honses) and had a wife named Myrna:

They were happily married for about 5 years, owned a pretty small farm, and took a lot of hunting trips together (most likely sold the skins/ meat along with eggs ect.) but yeah huntin n fishin was one of their favorite activities to do together. They didn't live far from a small town where they did their trading and shopping from and Ramsuse was a pretty well known bounty hunter in the town and even had a small group of other bounty hunters that he would team up with occasionally. Back then, in most towns, it was still a Big Thing for monsters to exist and was often treated as a frankenstien event (light the pitchforks yada yada); but in this part of the overall timeline demons kind of infested some parts of the world (side note obv. that didn't last forever and the majority of demons and that of the like ended up being chased into caves and hidden crevices of the world which is maybe why Mogak had to go into a big ass demon cave community to get that demonic D.) some entire towns could become completely overrun with demons and many caused chaos and ruin among the land, which probably gave a lot of other unrelated monsters a bad rep. hence why they would be ridiculed as well. It was pretty common for demons to be outlaws and outliers, and it was also common practice for humans to capture demons (typically demons who were minding their own business (like Ollie in the cowboy au👀)) and sacrifice them in churches or do mass killings so it was kind of a back and forth rivalry between humans and demons during this time. Granted, while demons and humans were at war, naturally demons are more powerful than humans without any manmade advantage-so side backstory Myrna's parents got killed by a demon in their house when she was a child and she was orphaned for the rest of her adolescence, so she's carried a special kind of bitterness, fear, and hatred towards demons throughout her life.

As their town slowly starting having more and more demonic issues, a certain demon cowboy was a prominent culprit of the reoccurring destruction of the town:

he had the ability to transform people into demons and his "horse" is basically just another demon that tried to mimic a horse to be able to assist in the bidding of the outlaw (ie: it's ears are actually horns, it's neighs sound more like a donkey and hyena mixed together, ect) He too led a gang that tormented towns and cities, only they were damn near impossible to pin down. Ramsuse was the main tracker for trying to find him and every time he did, the outlaw would slip through the cracks of their dimension which would eventually drive Ramsuse to insanity and intense resentment towards demons and monsters trying to get the outlaw. It got to a point where that's all he wanted to do was try to find and catch the demon, even his own group of bounty hunters opted out and urged Ramsuse to do the same at least for a while, for it was eating away at his soul. Though it was out of love for his wife and their own town, he would leave for days and put off hunting trips that Myrna wanted to go on in order to attempt to capture the outlaw. Until one night he followed a seemingly deliberate trail of clues that led him to a run down cabin out in the middle of nowhere. The demon outlaw was patiently waiting for him when he barged in like a bat out of hell, however Ramuse was having none of it and went straight for his throat upon first look. He mopped the floor with him for a while until those eye flaps on the demons face latched onto the bounty hunters arms (kinda like venom slime stickin to shit) and started searing Ramsuse's flesh off to reveal his new demon skin. It eventually traveled through his entire body as he slowly burned to death, his horns erupting from his head probably feeling like his brains were being squeezed out of his skull, his old teeth being simultaneously pushed out by bigger lion-like teeth, his body getting bigger as his burnt dead skin fell off in bloody sheets to give way to the contorting muscles as the demon outlaw observed in deranged satisfaction

by the time Ramsuse could come to his senses, the outlaw was long gone. During the physical altercation, outside Appocolus and the demon horse got into it as well. When the draft horse saw that abomination of a horse, every red light went off in his sixth sense and he lunged for it, however it mauled him back and it's teeth essentially had the same burning effect in which Appocolus was doomed to the same fate as his rider.

Ramsuse spent several days trying to track any possible trace of the demon to see if he could somehow be changed back, but he was nowhere to be found. As time went on, desperately trying to find any way to change himself back at this point, dread began to seep into him like rot on a dead carcass as he realized he had no choice but to go back home and face Myrna with this new demonic vessel that he was cursed with.

As he reluctantly arrived at his house, he tried to talk to Myra through the door as a way to prepare her as much as he knew how. He attempted to stay behind the door as long as possible, beating around the bush as to what just happened, but she didn't understand why he was acting this way and only tolerated it so much before she opened the door and upon first glance immediately scrambled for a gun

Completely overrun with past memories, she refused to believe him and was convinced that a demon Actually killed him and took his form to get to her and was merely feigning his distress just to make her vulnerable. Ramsuse quickly saw her state and decided it was best to just do what she demanded and he fled after she shot at him.

After what happened, that was the final straw that broke the camels back and Myrna took to the town to try and tell people what happened to her husband. Nobody has witnessed anyone being turned into a demon and coming back ( they just knew people vanished or were just straight up dead) and with her being a woman back then, nobody believed her not even Ramsuse's former bounty hunter group. They drew the conclusion that Ramsuse merely found another woman and ran away with her, so Myrna was deemed mentally unstable and was locked up in a facility where she soon died of a fatal self inflicted wound. Ramsuse could only watch all of this happen from afar for he had no idea how to get through to her or to even show his face anywhere ever again as he drowned in grief and self hatred over time. He was cursed to be immortal as he became just a wandering cowboy, doing bounty work in passing towns. He took more heavily toward monster communities, however his bitterness and resentment toward the concept of life itself made both him and his horse extremely vicious and brutal to anyone around him. He would start bar fights regularly and kill more bounties that were strictly wanted alive and then he would kill lawmen if they so much as looked at him wrong he was just a whole ass mess. Appocolus was outcast as well by all horses, both feral and domesticated, so he too became very grudge driven and hostile. He would assist Ramsuse in tormenting and killing anyone they deemed deserving by biting and trampling as well. As the years flew by Ramsuse and Appocolus only had eachother in the world and now that the wild west is almost completely faded out he has a house and barn he made himself out in the middle of nowhere ( like somewhere around Montana or somethin if he was in this world I'd say) he owns thousands upon thousands of acres that he preserves and patrols( to make sure no bitch ass puts a gas station or mcdonalds anywhere PFFT) so theres pretty much a large chunk of the state that is untouched by modern life bc he Will destroy anything by any means necessary so nobody has successfully bought any land. so yeah now hes just a bitter old demon who refuses to move on from his timeline while desperately clings to whats left of his memories and avoids society except for an occasional bar run from a super old bar that's probably been around a while as well :') AIGHT i think i got everything abt his ass 😭 if u bothered to read this far HOPE U ENJOYED!!

[starfxkr]

🍊𓇼*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🍊𓇼*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🍊𓇼*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🍊𓇼*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the air is almost still, if fit weren’t for the fan blowing in the corner of the chateau. the house was quiet for a rare moment, just you and john b slow dancing in the middle of the living room.

“i dont know you were so smooth in your feet bubba.” his deep voice rumbled your chest and you couldnt help the giggle you let out against his cheek, turning your face to brush your nose against his.

“i just know how not to step in your feet.”

“mmm, i’d say youre better than that. you’d sweep on dancing with the stars.” he brings you impossibly closer, leaving little kisses and bites down your neck.

“god you’re such an old man jb, gonna take me fishin and show me some real music next?” you ease the two of you slowly on the porch, the music still audible.

“ouch! what can i say i loved broadcast tv. i remember when you didnt have to pay for cartoon network.”

you roll your eyes and shut him up with a kiss, bringing his large, warm hands up the back of your dress.

“oh.”

“mhm.”

“i think we should take this back inside.”

swiftly he lifts you into his arms, carrying you back to the warmth of his bed. you loved quiet days at the chateau because you could be the loudest one there.

[waltybrainrot]

part 2 of me trying to sell a niche (queer) norwegian show with no official translations to y'all :D

here are some screenshots from season 2 warning: this ventures into spoiler territory

mathias (w/sara) saving his mans too late

he likes to grab erik + this looks like a love triangle LMAO

i screamed.

mathias meeting his mom to erik's horror LMAO + bonus mathias holding the door for him

find someone who looks at you the way mathias looks at erik

THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE.

just two bros fishin' and arguin'

but they made out up so it's fine

mathias in his bunad + erik in a suit ahhh

tumblr is being mean and saying i added too many photos so i gotta make a part 3 i'm so sorry ;-;

[hannibalzero]

charthur omegaverse wip

(Southern nights au)

🦌🦬🦌🦬🦌

Not sure about this wip yet, let me know lovelies

it had all started with such a innocent question.

Jack had came to Arthur’s tent, stomping over in boots to big for him. as mad as a old wet hen if Arthur could call it anything.

Jack kicked off John’s boots, climbed into Arthur’s cot snuggling close hiding his face in Arthur’s chest.

Arthur’s old cot groaned at the extra weight, the lapping waves of flat iron lake along with a mocking bird song. showing a rare moment of peace for the outlaw.

Kissed Jack’s head, wasn’t everyday that someone wanted Arthur Morgan to love on them. besides his spoiled ass horses naturally.

he was about to take a nap himself but that could wait a bit. Arthur didn’t mind one bit.

Jack needed him.

Fat cheek resting on Arthur’s chest. Those blue eyes looking up to Arthur own with a frustrated look on Jack’s face.

“whats gotten ya all fired up? been’a long time since ya cuddled up ta me.”Arthur murmured rubbing a big hand up and down Jack’s back. with a rare gentleness that Arthur was able to share.

the worn cotton shirt in a faded cream color that Jack wore was as soft as butter under Arthur’s fingers. Everything about Jack was soft still, Arthur couldn’t help but to savor these moments.

Jack wouldn’t be a small soft pup for much longer.

The little boy gripped Arthur’s faded blue shirt in frustration.

“it ain’t fair, uncle Arthur.” He whined softly burying his face back into Arthur’s chest sniffling loudly as he fought back tears. 

“What ain’t fair?” Tilting his head and moving Jack closer. “must be somethin’ mighty big if ya crawled into the cot with me.”

Arthur encouraged Jack to look up at him, with a careful tap at his chin. he wouldn’t hurt Jack, he wouldn’t hurt anyone he loved. Arthur was nothing like his own daddy.

lip wobbling, tears in his eyes that Arthur was wiping away with careful touches. “ain’t no kids around, ain’t no siblings ether.” he whined hiding his face back into Arthur’s chest. wiping his nose in Arthur’s shirt the way all children do. 

made a face at his shirt being used as a handkerchief but Arthur supposed he had been covered in far worse things. “aw, Jack. it can’t be helped in this life. its why we work so hard ta get us out of it. being a gunslinger and all that. want ya ta have friends.” Arthur soothed best he could keeping his voice soft. “what got ya thinking on this?” he asked, his forehead lined with worry.

Jack pilled off his thumb, the little fella still sucked his thumb when soothing. Popping off his thumb giving a brave sniff..

Arthur held up his handkerchief and smiled at bit as Jack honked loudly into the poor checkered rag. “there ya go, come on now…tell me what ya need me ta know.” 

the little fella smiled a bit now calming down thanks to Arthur’s efforts.

Man, Jack would be one hell of a outlaw. Pup was a brave wolf already. 

Setting his jaw, making firm eye contact with Arthur, Jack started his story in a serious voice. His hands still balled up in Arthur’s shirt. 

“I went with Uncle Sean and Uncle Lenny inta town. We’a found ten dollars from Micha.” Jack started with a huff. 

“hate ta interrupt ya there pup, why did ya, Sean and Lenny steal from Micha?” Arthur couldn’t hide the playful smile that spread across his face. 

Anything bad happening to Micha? was a wonderful day.

Like when Micha’s horse Baylock got tired of Micha’s bullying him and knocked Micha into the ‘latrine’ ditch. it was beautiful.

Arthur almost cried from the beauty of that moment.

Jack looked away, eyebrows knitting together. “Cuse Micha said he was gonna take’me fishin’ and give me candy. but he was messin with me. Told Uncle Sean and Lenny. we ran’a job on Micha!” his voice dripped with pride. He couldn’t help it, Arthur busted out laughing ruffling Jack’s head. loud and strong, it had been a while since he had laughed so hard. 

“Pup! ya little outlaw!” Arthur settled himself with a little snicker. “oh my word, made ma week.” he took another breath. “Micha earned it, now back ta your story. Lenny, Sean and ya went ta Roades right? ta the store?”

[agoldengalaxy]

Bluejay at Sunset

read on Ao3

words: 1631

“He was always…” John sighed. “He was always lookin’ out for me when I first joined the gang. Back then I was just a kid. Dutch and Hosea showed me the ropes, but Arthur was the one who kept me straight, savin’ me whenever I was in trouble. That night, on the mountain, I felt like I couldn’t return the favor. Seeing him like that, so sick and still being the one to save me, I…” he looked down, feeling his eyes burn. “It don’t feel right. I never got to say goodbye.” While he fought the burning in his eyes, a gentle hand came up to rest on his shoulder.. Charles was soft as ever. “It was his choice, John.” That was what made it hurt more.

--

John pulled on the reins carefully, murmuring a soft word of encouragement to his horse as he approached the ridge. He pat her neck gently, then slowly slid off of the saddle, letting her graze nearby.

His heart was pounding, and he couldn’t quite tell why. It was so small, so inconsequential compared to some of the things he’d done in his life, but this felt like the absolute hardest thing he’d ever have to do. Inhaling shakily, he willed himself to walk forward.

The sun began dipping toward the horizon, bathing the world in golden light. It was almost too bright, but John pushed forward, lifting a hand up to shield his eyes. Finally, he reached the small monument, adorned in flowers that were still blossoming. He wondered if Charles was the one to put them there.

With a long sigh, John knelt down on one knee, reading the name etched into the wood. He could still hear him telling him to ‘be a goddamn man.’ Carefully, he took off his hat, resting it against his chest. “Hey, Arthur.”

A slow breeze blew by, and a small bluejay landed on top of the post, tilting its head at the man. John felt utterly ridiculous, but after all these years, he knew he had to pay his respects, even though he was sure the man in question would be laughing at him now if he could see him.

“Jack’s twelve now. He’s still reading all those silly storybooks, and gettin’ real good at it, too. Abigail keeps asking him to read to her.” He smiled, looking down at the grass. “He remembers more than I give him credit for, I guess. He told me about the time you took him fishin’. He still doesn’t like it, in case you was wondering.”

“And Abigail…well, she and I are getting married in a few days. I mean, for real this time. She thought I was joking, y’know? Guess I can’t blame her. But I’m real happy now. Got a house and a farm. Uncle and Charles have been staying with us for a while. Sadie, too. She’s a bounty hunter now, can you believe it? Well, I’m sure you can. She’s just as fierce and sharp as she was before. She’ll outlive us all. She…she misses you, I think.”

John glanced toward the skyline, the sun still not fully set. The bluejay flapped its wings, but didn’t seem to want to leave. “Hell, I…I miss you, too. I think about you all the time. The entire reason I’m happy, and free, is because of you, Arthur. I’m never gonna repay that.” His voice trembled, and he gripped his hat a little tighter. “I don’t care whether you were good, bad, somethin’ in between. You’ll always be my brother.”

Before he could continue, a twig behind him broke, and he knew it wasn't his horse. His shoulders tensed, his hand drifting toward his belt when a dejected sigh stopped him in his tracks. “Sorry. It’s just me.”

John paused, then glanced over his shoulder. “Charles? What’re you doin’ here? You should be resting.”

Charles glanced down, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but John couldn’t tell if it was because he got caught or something else. “I’m fine. Abigail…wanted me to check on you. Coming here for the first time, she knew it’d be hard. She cares about you, y’know.”

The bluejay atop the wood flapped its wings again. John watched it hop for a moment, his heart twisting with so many different emotions. “That she does.” He inhaled sharply, but let the breath out slowly. “Thanks for appeasin’ her.”

“I only said yes because I wanted to check on you, too.” He hesitated for a moment before walking over, kneeling down beside him. Because it was Charles, John didn't even think about shooing him away. “You know…buryin’ him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I’ve buried a lot of folks.”

John eyed him carefully. There were always dark circles under his eyes, and he always looked tired no matter how much sleep he claimed to have gotten. He wondered how many times Charles must’ve visited this site after burying him. He exhaled slowly. “Arthur would be glad to know it was you. He always thought highly of you.” When Charles quickly looked away, John wondered if he’d said something wrong. In any case, he continued. “It’s been years, but I still think he’s gonna show up at the ranch someday, tell me it was all some big joke.”

“I know what you mean.” 

“He was always…” John sighed. “He was always lookin’ out for me when I first joined the gang. Back then I was just a kid. Dutch and Hosea showed me the ropes, but Arthur was the one who kept me straight, savin’ me whenever I was in trouble. That night, on the mountain, I felt like I couldn’t return the favor. Seeing him like that, so sick and still being the one to save me, I…” he looked down, feeling his eyes burn. “It don’t feel right. I never got to say goodbye.”

While he fought the burning in his eyes, a gentle hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “It was his choice, John.”

That was what made it hurt more, he thought. He could still hear it in his mind. “He said it would mean a lot to him. If I made it out alive.”

“He knew his time was up. I guess he wanted his death to mean something. Helping you was the best way he could think of doing it.” Suddenly, his grip on John’s shoulder tightened. John wasn’t sure why until he watched a tear fall from his face to the ground. Stunned, John reached up to touch his own cheek. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. He was figuring he was more shocked than sad until Charles hesitantly spoke. “Are…you okay?”

The question was a simple one, but it had always been so hard to answer. “Yeah. ‘Course,” he choked, and the floodgates immediately opened.

Suddenly he was twelve years old again. Everyone was big and scary, and he felt so alone. Back then, he had Arthur, begrudgingly sharing his bedroll, offering him a cigarette, telling him jokes. Today, Arthur was six feet below him.

As he tried to force air into his lungs, Charles let go of his arm, and instead scooted closer to place an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, John. Let it out. It’s okay.”

John didn’t fight it, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears roll. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but when he opened his eyes again, the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon, and the sky was a deep blue. Charles had been patient the entire time, sitting there, holding him, probably watching the sunset.

When his tears subsided, he didn’t pull away just yet, and Charles didn’t move either. The latter exhaled shakily after a few minutes of silence. “…I loved him, you know.”

Glancing up, he watched the bluejay upon the wood, surprised he hadn’t scared it off with his crying. For a moment, he felt uncomfortable, even felt like he shouldn’t be this close to him, but he trusted Charles with his life. After everything he did for him, whoever he chose to love shouldn’t matter. “I didn’t know you swung that way, Charles.”

“I didn’t either, ‘till I met that poor bastard.” He sighed softly, carefully letting go of John’s shoulders. “Never got to tell him before…well. It was probably for the best.”

John blew out a breath. He couldn’t have been sure about what Arthur was thinking, but he could guess. “Maybe. No matter how he felt, though, I know he liked you. Probably the most out of any folk.” Charles looked away, a blush rising up to his cheeks, and John smiled slightly, wishing things had been different. He decided not to dwell on it much. “Was it you that’s been leavin’ the flowers, then?”

“Yes. I’m…gonna miss visiting him when I leave for the north.”

“Do you really gotta go?” John asked, feeling a little more like himself now that his eyes weren’t leaking. “I mean, you know you can stay as long as you want.”

Charles smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m grateful for that. Really. But I need to…I have to get out there. I have to move on.” He nodded toward the grave. “Seeing you, and Abigail, and Jack…makes me wonder if I could have a life like that. It just won’t happen here.”

“I understand.” Glancing up, he noticed the sky had become deeper blue, littered with faint stars. The bluejay flapped its wings and took off, soaring toward the mountains. John watched it go. “Well, I don’t have any concerns about you havin’ that kinda life. You’ll find a nice lady - or, uh, feller - and you’ll be happy.”

Charles smiled again, this time a bit more genuine. “How can you be sure?”

“‘Cause you’re the best of all of us. If I can do it, you sure as hell can do it, buddy.” Taking a deep breath, strangely feeling much better, John stood up, offering his hand. “C’mon. I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it back at the ranch.”

“If Uncle didn’t get to it first.”

“If he did, I’ll kill him.” They began walking, but each paused for a moment to look back at the grave one more time. John placed his hat back on his head. “Goodbye, Arthur.”

Together, they mounted their horses, and rode back home, reminiscing fondly, because Arthur would have preferred it to tears.