#sixteen shooting stars

[needlemeister]

scugs r us

[kingtuna]

I was rewatching Tales of the Jedi and just

Practice Makes Perfect

(that ending hurts)

but also Rex was so concerned for Ahsoka

"Don't worry Rex she'll wake up"

"I don't know how much she can take" like yeah

he obviously had Thoughts about Anakin making them shoot at their teenage little sister

[lunarscaled]

tag drop part 3 thats how many fucking verses ive got

[kitscutie]

august (conrad fisher x reader)

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗂ꜱ𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀ꜱ: ᖯ𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗄𝗂ꜱꜱ𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝖽 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒, ꜱ𝖾𝗑𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽

𝗉.ꜱ: 𝗂'𝗆 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗉𝖺𝖽 ꜱ𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇ꜱ𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 ᖯ𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂ꜱ 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 - 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗒𝗅𝖺𝗇, 𝗂𝗍'ꜱ 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗃𝗎ꜱ𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝗍 ᖯ𝗎𝗍 ꜱ𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾𝖽!

ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗋𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 ᖯ𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 ꜱ𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ꜱ𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄-𝗎𝗉ꜱ 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺ꜱ𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋ꜱ, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒ꜱ, 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 ᖯ𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒 ꜱ𝗁𝗈𝗐ꜱ 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ᖯ𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽.

a/n: been wanting to write this for a while so BOOM here it is, sooo excited for season two, also im in a deep dylan obrien depression i need help :p ALSO sorry like all my fics are in different styles at the start i'm experimenting atm!

You and Conrad Fisher had known each other since you had popped out of the womb nineteen years ago in the same hospital, only a floor and two hours keeping you apart.

Your moms had been friends since rooming at college and so your friendship, some might say, had been written in the stars quite literally. Fate.

Things had started to change on your sixteenth birthday. It was just before the annual summer reunion, and of course, you and your mom had gone down just one week earlier in order to have a joint birthday celebration with the Fishers and stayed until the Conklin's arrived.

You had hit puberty and he hadn't seen you since the big change but when he did, his eyes could've fell from his skull. It was almost comedic. Of course at the time his stares meant little to you. He was your best friend after all.

Until last year. It was the start of summer bonfire and all was normal. Belly was at home, Jeremiah was off talking to girls with Steven which left you and Conrad. You found it strange he didn't have the same interest in girls as Steven and Jeremiah but who were you to say anything. You wanted him to stay.

Long story short he finally made a move and a kiss began in the abandoned life-guard tower a couple feet away from the main event, it was all going well, almost too well. And you were proven correct when Steven and Jeremiah came down the beach looking for you and found you in that very compromising position.

Seeing as they weren't exactly in a place to talk they agreed to keep it a secret and so it became the new norm for them, seeing the two of you together while your mom, Susannah, Laurel and Belly were non the wiser.

The bonfire was in full-swing, Summer had officially begun and what better way to start it than in the lap of Conrad Fisher on Cousins Beach.

He was sat cross legged on the blanket you'd brought from the house, while you sat atop him, legs either side of his own.

"I just think we should be nicer to her, I mean that was us three years ago." You sighed, you'd had a beer or two and were feeling increasingly guilty about the disallowance of Belly to come tonight.

"None of us were allowed out at sixteen, it's only fair." Conrad replied, voice low and relaxed. Something you appreciated about him, he was a very soothing person.

"Yeah, but that's different! We all had each other and now-" You began but he cut you off with a groan.

"Can we please not talk about Belly when your sat on me?" He said, smile gracing his lips.

You began to 'ew' and berate him but were soon cut off by his lips on yours, one of his hands holding your jaw in place while the other sat comfortably on the upper part of your thigh.

It didn't take much for you to open up, his tongue instantly hitting against yours as he deepened the kiss. When your mouths disconnected, it made a sound which made your head go light and airy.

"Do you still feel bad?" He whispered. Hand moving up to put a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"No." You answered, shooting forward to connect your lips once more. He chuckled into the kiss, teeth clashing together but you didn't care you just wanted him.

His spare hand slowly and nonchalantly drifted to the hem of your shorts, groping your ass gently, you were still in public after all and Conrad wanted to be able to say he had an ounce of class and respect. Even if it was a lie.

A disruption to the left of you and Conrad caught your attention and you went to turn your head, lips still interlocked but he denied that, hand on your jaw tightening and turning your head back to look at him.

The final straw was a resounding 'Ooh' from the crowd and you decided no matter what he did you were going to see what was happening.

Finally turning your head you found Belly. On the floor. And looking directly at you. A lot was wrong with that.

"Shit, Conrad." You said, which finally got his face away from placing delicate kisses across your jaw and to see the same thing as you. His face also dropping.

"Belly?" He said, unable to stop himself in disbelief.

Really this would've been the right time to get out of his lap but you were frozen in fear, forgetting you were sat there in the first place.

"I thought me and Y/N were like your sisters." She said, anger painted on her face. You didn't like confrontation in the first place and so saying something was hard but you couldn't let Belly think badly of you or Conrad.

"Belly look- it's different-" You defended, but she once again cut you off in anger and while your throat tightened in anxiety, you felt Conrad's hand soothe over your back. Reassuring and subtle.

"Different? I know him just as well as you do. It's not different." She seethed. Stepping closer to the two of you.

"Belly, c'mon you know what I mean." You whispered unintentionally. Your eyes were going glassy, feeling looks from all around you. Some in agreeance with you, some with her but none knew the full story.

"We've been together since last year. It was after you left to take Steven to look at Colleges." Conrad stepped in while Belly processed. Preventing another dig at you.

"I thought you weren't ready for a relationship and that, may I remind you again, we're like sisters to you?" Belly replied.

"I didn't-" Conrad started though a hurt look from you cut him off. "Look I said that like two years ago, it isn't even relevant anymore. Clearly." He said. Eyes connecting with you to reassure you, not her.

"You're such a brat." He added, seeing the affect her words had on you.

"Well you're an asshole." Belly yelled back, all while you sat stunned and quiet.

"Belly! You came, great, we can all hang out." Jeremiah said enthusiastically running over. You appreciated his intervention, as obvious as it was that he was trying to distract her.

"I'm about to take her home." Steven cut him off.

"What?" Jeremiah said, confused. Though the situation was bad she was old enough to be out past ten pm. Whether Steven liked it or not.

"Yeah, we're leaving, are you kidding me?" Steven replied as if it was obvious. Grabbing her hand.

"Ok, Steven come on. Go hang out with Shayla or something." Jeremiah answered and you couldn't help but admire the boy and his love for Belly.

You tore your eyes away from the conversation above you as they dispersed, looking back at Conrad who was sighing and pushing hair from his face.

"It'll be okay." You said, knowing what he needed without having to ask.

"I know." He smiled gently, though his eyes didn't fully match. He was worried, and you couldn't blame him.

Belly knew, and worst of all, just five months ago she had confided in you about her crush on Conrad and so it was unclear if she would ever even speak to you again.

Guilt was swallowing you whole.

[fastcardotmp3]

Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.

He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.

It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.

It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.

He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.

Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.

It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.

One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.

He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.

So what does happen to Eddie Munson?

He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.

He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.

There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.

Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.

He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.

He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.

He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.

The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.

Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.

Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.

It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.

And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.

He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--

"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."

Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.

It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.

It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.

Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.

Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.

The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.

He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.

This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)

Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.

He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.

He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.

He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.

He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?

It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.

[marley-manson]

the topic is Trapper and the army as foils, you have three hours, go

In no small part the satire of Mash, particularly in the first half of the show, is tied up with gender performance.

The army represents traditional, stifling and violent masculinity. This is shown through everything from freudian jokes about guns (eg Frank and Margaret's flirtations in The Sniper or The Gun), to Margaret trying to cajole Hawkeye into performing a more traditional standard of masculinity while treating him like a soldier in Comrades in Arms Part 2, to many jokes and comments about (usually) Hawkeye not being a real man in contrast to army standards and various specific army personnel (eg Lyle in Springtime, Flagg in White Gold), to Frank and Margaret's worship of the masculinity of the army ("He's twice the man you'll ever be," re: Flagg and Hawkeye, Margaret's lust for MacArthur, Frank pursuing the sniper in The Sniper in an attempt to be a "real man" in Margaret's eyes, etc) to many jokes positioning the military as a sexually aggressive man pursuing Hawkeye ("Sure, the sun the moon the stars, your high school letterman jacket. Same deal I promised nurse Baker." "A receipt please, and promise you'll go out with other doctors," etc.)

In contrast, the main characters all fail to perform traditional gender in some way, from crossdressing to immaturity to indecisiveness to peacefulness to Margaret's masculinity and Frank's pathetic failure to live up to his own masculine ideals, to just about everything about Hawkeye. His cowardliness, his jokes about not being a real man, his jokes about taking the feminine role in sexual encounters with men and women, even multiple double entendres about his average at best penis size.

Trapper is the most traditionally masculine of the main cast. He still subverts masculinity in some subtle ways here and there, such as the occasional feminizing joke and mentions of not being in great shape, but overall he's the more butch counterpart to Hawkeye's fem. He plays the role of boxer while Hawkeye plays the role of diva in their respective manager/star roleplaying episodes. He's broader and buffer and plays football, often seen playing catch with someone while walking around the compound, while Hawkeye disdains sports and doesn't participate. He reads Field and Stream which Hawkeye derides in Alcoholics Unanimous while making a wry comment about shaving his armpits. A past lover nicknamed him Big John.

And there are many, many jokes about Hawkeye and Trapper being sexual partners. The recurring Uncle Trapper and Aunt Hawkeye gag, if my father sees this you'll have to marry me, for me? only if you put those on, your father and I will tell you what we did to have you, that's when I fell in love with him, etc etc etc. It's constant. In these jokes Hawkeye usually takes the feminine role, though not strictly every time ("Me and the missus," is one exception in As You Were, the dance in Yankee Doodle Doctor is another).

Trapper's masculinity is differentiated from traditional military masculinity in a few ways. Most obviously, Trapper abhors the military's violence. He never uses guns and mocks Frank's obsession with them, he's a healer rather than a soldier, and he's disgusted by the results of military violence on the men on his operating table.

He's also secure in himself. The military's brand of masculinity is strongly characterized by insecurity and overcompensation. Frank is the main representative of this military insecurity - a coward who insists he's brave (The Army Navy Game), a man who clings to a phallic gun to compensate for his sexual and gendered inadequacies (a main theme of The Sniper, perfectly mirrored when the army itself comes in with a vastly disproprotionately powerful automatic machine gun on a helicopter to shoot down one sixteen year old), a homophobe repressing his own attraction to men (As You Were, the original script of George), etc. We also see this in Flagg, who implicitly sublimates sexual urges into violence (seen when he suggestively caresses his gun while describing how he wants to torture a boy in Officer of the Day).

Trapper doesn't need to overcompensate. He's well-endowed physically, he's portrayed as a competent and considerate lover, he's a brave man who doesn't mind being seen as a coward, and he may or may not be attracted to men but either way he's not a homophobe (George) and he doesn't express his sexuality through violence. When Margaret proves herself stronger than him, his response is to be impressed rather than offended (Bombed). When he dances with Hawkeye for a gag, he doesn't mind letting Hawkeye lead.

He's also differentiated in terms of tradition, with the mliitary representing a more propagandic 50s traditionalism, and Trapper representing a 70s, countercultural freedom from tradition. We see this in the way Trapper has plenty of sex despite being married, while adultery is a court-martial offense in the military. It's notable that he's open and carefree about it, while Frank and Margaret are surreptitious and hypocritical in their affair. This lack of traditionalism is also shown in his disrespect for authority, often in direct contrast to Frank and Margaret's worship of it, and his allyship to George who the military would persecute for his sexuality.

So ultimately we can see that while Trapper and the military are both examples of masculine performance, Trapper's masculinity differs from the military's in being more flexible, less violent, less traditional, and more secure. The military's masculinity is far more toxic than Trapper's, particularly in the context of 70s counterculture media, which aligns womanizing with sexual liberation rather than a lack of respect for women, accurately or not.

This contributes to their respective dynamics with Hawkeye.

Hawkeye, we've established, is usually more feminine, and there are a myriad of jokes characterizing Trapper as his sexual partner, as well as the military as a sexual pursuer.

The jokes Hawkeye and Trapper make about their relationship tend towards cozy domesticity. They're Radar's "aunt and uncle," they directly roleplay marriage ("Martha, we're going to have to move, the people upstairs are impossible,") and less directly behave as though married (the bickering in Alcoholics Unanimous, the discussion about naming their pony in Life With Father). Occasionally they're treated as a healthy couple in contrast to Frank and Margaret's toxicity ("While I'm gone, promise you'll go out with other doctors," vs "Touch anyone else and I'll cut off your hands" in Aid Station).

In some instances the jokes lean towards predatory - "If you're trying to get me drunk, it'll work," or "Who is this man in bed with me?" "I followed you home from the movies," but they're always playful, always fond. If Hawkeye takes on a submissive or victimized role in these jokes, it's one he has fun with and discards just as easily in the context of the rest of his relationship with Trapper.

So, it's important to note that Hawkeye and Trapper support each other and look after each other in an equal, enthusiastic friendship. From Trapper ensuring Hawkeye gets to sleep in Doctor Pierce and Mr. Hyde, to Hawkeye supporting Trapper when he wants to adopt a child, to Trapper right at Hawkeye's side as they attempt to procure an incubator, they are there for each other every step of the way. If their relationship is a marriage in some ways, it's a healthy, strong, and non-traditional marriage, an equal and open partnership free of jealousy and insecurities.

Compare that to the military's relationship with Hawkeye. In jokes it's characterized as powerful and predatory, far from an equal partnership. Sometimes it approaches positive - in Carry on Hawkeye, much of the humour is derived from Hawkeye and Margaret's gendered role reversal as she assumes military command of the unit. Hawkeye playfully calls her sir, seductively lies on her desk like a secretary in a porn film, and most notably treats an immunization shot as sexual penetration in a prolonged gag about sexual role reversal. Hawkeye has fun playing a sexually submissive role to a representative of military authority in this episode, but it is a submissive role.

Several of the one-off jokes have a similar sensibility, such as the double entendre of "My bellybutton's been puckering and unpuckering all day," in response to a representative of MacArthur assuming their excitement over the general's arrival to the unit, or Hawkeye's "Okay, take me, I'm yours," to Colonel Flagg. They demonstrate a willingness to play the receptive role on Hawkeye's part, but they also, pointedly, disturb the object of the jokes.

When Hawkeye makes these jokes that sexualize military authority, he's attempting to be provocative as well as defiantly drawing disruptive attention to his own powerlessness as a drafted surgeon. The power dynamic between Hawkeye and the authority of the military only goes one way, and Hawkeye gets a kick out of pointing it out in ways that perturb the representatives of that authority, but it's a power dynamic that takes its toll on him.

Many of Mash's plotlines revolve around Hawkeye rebelling and attempting to seize some scrap of agency back from the military. Adam's Ribs, for example, in which he starts a mild riot over the food he's being fed and spends the episode attempting to procure barbecue ribs from Chicago (which Trapper procures for him), or Back Pay where he tries to charge the military for his forced labour. A particularly notable example is Some 38th Parallels, in which Hawkeye complains about being paid the equivalent of a nickel per operation, and his frustration manifests in impotency until he can perform a gesture of rebellion against the military.

One unfortunate consistency of these episodes is that the army ultimately retains its power. When Hawkeye achieves his goals, it's only in small ways that do little more than satisfy his own need to assert his sense of self. Often, Hawkeye doesn't achieve his goal at all, but is thwarted by the army, such as in For Want of a Boot. In every instance he remains powerless in comparison to the authority of the military.

So the context in which Hawkeye makes these sexualized jokes about the military literally fucking him is one of abject helplessness. In a sense, all he's capable of is pointing out what the military is doing and putting it in his own, audacious terms. He's not capable of preventing it. His jokes usually have an edge of bitterness to them in delivery, and when they don't, that tone is imparted anyway by the greater context.

With Trapper, Hawkeye can play-act a marriage or an assault, but in either case he's an enthusiastically consenting, equal partner. Trapper's performance of masculinity allows for Hawkeye to take any role from victim to wife to husband, and enables Trapper to respond in kind from a position of equality and respect. The military, in its insecure, domineering performance of masculinity, is a dictatorial authority, never allowing Hawkeye perform any role but a feminized, victimized one, and only ever giving him the choice of whether to perform with a wry smile or a sneer.

In short, Trapper is the cool, considerate service top to the military's insecure domineering boyfriend.

I'm tagging everyone who enabled this lol, share the blame. @beansterpie @majorbaby @professormcguire @rescue-ram

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Sixteen

Day: Sunday, December 31st Time: 11:55 PM EST

Neil nodded and looked at the clock. It was five 'til midnight. "Are we going to watch the ball drop? I want to make a wish." "You make wishes on shooting stars," Wymack said. "New Year's is for resolutions." "That's okay too," Neil said. Wymack dug his remote out from under a couch cushion and turned on the TV. Noise and music filled the room. Cameras panned across the crowd as a band performed on stage. Neil searched the crowd for his teammates' faces, knowing he wouldn't see them but needing to look anyway. He checked his phone, found the battery blinking critically low, and opened his messages box anyway. He didn't read them. He didn't have time and the battery wouldn't last long enough. He had enough power to compose a group message, though, so he tapped out a simple "Happy New Year" to the Foxes. Betsy had told them Andrew's phone was confiscated for the duration of his stay at Easthaven, but Neil added his number anyway and pressed SEND.

Art used with permission by Sam. Thank you so much @02511213942

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

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TWO: G & G.

You know that there are those in the world who strike fear into people’s hearts and souls.

But you’ve never seen anyone react to a single human being the way they do the duo that struts into the bar in their leather cowboy boots. 

You’ve never seen the saloon so quiet and still before then when the duo steps into the scene. A tumbleweed could blow by with how silent it is.

Everyone’s eyes stay planted on the tall, handsome men oozing with confidence and intimidation standing among the swinging doors, appearing like sexy phantoms in the night.

There stands Geto Suguru, the 6’4 long-haired gunslinger with the perfect, black locks that cascade down his broad shoulders and back, seductive eyes, and skillful hands that he hides behind two riding gloves.

He usually is seen riding a black Bronco that is just as big as him and sporting a black cape with black riding pants, boots, and a low-brim cowboy hat. Black fits him so damn well. The only thing that isn’t black on him is the red vest that is so low-cut that you can see the outline of his pecs. 

Beside him is his partner (and lover as it’s rumored) Gojo Satoru, the lean, confident, cocky, blindfolded bandit standing at 6’3 with snow-white hair, a sly smile, leather gloves that hide some skillful and deadly hands, and a blindfold covering his eyes that have never been seen but are said to make a man go cold with fear where he stands.

In contrast to Geto, the white-haired cowboy is doused in colors: a denim jacket that matches his slacks where a star-shaped belt buckle hangs from his crotch; brown boots with spurs; a red bandana wrapped around his neck; and a white cowboy hat sits low on his head. He, too, has his own horse: a brown Bronco that is recognizable from its hooves clicking across the ground.  

They are a match made in heaven and hell. Handsome, skillful, and deadly. They are known for their impressive yet terrifying speed when it comes to cocking and shooting their pistols. You’ve heard of them killing all kinds of wanted criminals and even other gunslingers in other counties.

Everyone knows them and so do you. 

If a record was playing, the damn thing would be scratching by now with the way the saloon reacts to seeing the gunslingers in the flesh. Whispers begin to rise from the silence, including from Yuki, Mai, and Maki who have wandered over. “Oh, my God,” Mai gasps. “It’s the Gunslingers!” 

“What the hell are they doin’ here?” Maki wonders aloud, peering at them from behind her spectacles. “Are they lookin’ for someone? I thought they had been arrested!” 

And they did, last year. At some point, the articles of gunslingers, corporation owners, and high rollers found dead with bullets in them and a note from “G & G” left at the scene stopped when they were arrested after that train heist. And you know it has everything to do with their connection to your boss. 

“Who cares?” Yuki dreamily sighs as she stares at the gunslingers with heart eyes. “I get to admire them in person now! Aren’t they delicious?” 

“Keep it in your pants, Yuki,” Choso grumbles, tugging on a lock of the blonde’s hair as she giggles. “They ain’t even all that.” 

“Of course not,” Yuki purrs, making Choso blush. “Not above you, Chosi, but a cowboy hat would do you so well!”

Even you will admit that the “wanted dead or alive” posters don’t do them justice: they are fine as all hell, straight out of a woman’s wet dreams. But they are also outlaws. And you despise outlaws…for personal reasons. 

The duo begins to look around the silent saloon, Gojo’s head slowly turning despite his blindfold. When his head turns toward you, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your very lungs. Despite the fabric covering his eyes, you feel as if he sees you. All of you. 

Gojo nudges Geto with his elbow before waltzing over to the bar, his boots thudding across the hardwood floor. Geto follows, ignoring the whispers and stares in their wake. The piano has begun to pick up again, but it does nothing to ease the tension swimming in the air. Quickly, you turn to face your drink while the girls scatter to work, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

Geto sits on the stool beside you while Gojo takes the one beside him. You feel the air around you become stiff and tense as the cowboys settle into their seats. “So what’s a cowboy gotta do to get a drink round here?” Gojo asks with a smirk. “Can ya help a guy out, miss?”

He gives Shoko a flirty look, not knowing that this girl is gay as hell. “I could damn sure try,” she replies, barely giving him a smile. “What will you fellas have?” 

“I’ll take a Long Island iced tea,” Gojo says then laughs. “Just kiddin’! A beer, please.”

Geto takes a moment to examine the shelves of alcohol behind Shoko. He then looks at your pretty drink. “I’ll take what the lady is havin’,” he answers. “Actually, what is that you got there, miss?” 

His dark, enchanting eyes meet yours and you ignore the butterflies they invoke inside of you. “Whiskey smash,” you blandly reply.

He hums thoughtfully at the name. “Hm…is it good?” You tick your eyes at him briefly, secretly admiring his features. “If you like your whiskey with some sweetness to it, sure.”

A slow smirk appears on his face. “Oh, I definitely do,” he drawls. “I like sweetness with my everything.” 

You swallow hard, so sure you have a cherry pit in your throat. Gojo chuckles from beside his partner, flashing you a white-toothed smile. “Oooh, me too. I’ll third that order, ma’am!” Shoko nods and shoots you a look before wandering off to fix the drinks. 

You do your best to keep calm and act normal, sipping your drink and trying to relax. At some point, the silence becomes thicker, prompting one of the gunslingers to speak on it. “Welcomin’ place,” Gojo sniggers. “I feel so at home.”

Geto quietly chuckles from between you and Gojo. “Let’s just settle, Satoru. We won’t be here long.” 

‘Settle what?’ you wonder, but you know that they are here for Kento. Shoko comes back with the frothy, red drinks, lowering them in front of the gunslingers. 

“Thank you kindly,” Gojo chirps before taking a sip. Geto nods his thanks but doesn’t drink his right away. Instead, he goes into his pocket and retrieves a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and slides it across the bar to Shoko. “I don’t suppose you know who this guy is,” he says. 

You peek down at the paper, finding it to be a “Wanted” poster with your BF and boss looking back at you. Kenzo aka “Valentine” looks much different than when you met him. On the poster, he is clean and shaven, has longer, shaggier hair, and has a distinguished scar on his left eye.

But of course, this is the gunslinger who robbed people blind and just pulled a train heist and massacre in the town of Cherrywood a year before with his crew, Geto, and Gojo. The man who takes his place now is Kenzo, a humble saloon owner who sometimes dabbles in illegal activity to fund his saloon.  

Valentine, a criminal on the lamb and your outlaw boyfriend, is known for using his looks, charm, and violence to get what he wants. He is a man who loves money, women, and jewels. As a notorious criminal and outlaw, he has bounced from place to place, county to county, robbing folks and then laying low before starting again. 

He was arrested for robbing the Cherrywood regional train and having his crew massacre all of its employees and riders before you met him. Originally, he was given a fifty-year sentence but escaped after serving five weeks just by seducing a male prison guard and then knocking him out to steal the cell keys. 

You were hot on his trails when he showed up Blackwater a year later and met you in a whorehouse that you purposely took a job in since he frequented those. He took one look at you and immediately fell in love with you (and your body), proposing you a job at his saloon. “You could be mine,” he told you. “My girl.” You agreed and the rest is history. 

“I’ve heard of him, yes,” Shoko replies as she cleans a glass. 

“Is it possible you’ve seen him around?” Geto ponders aloud. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but he escaped Cherrywood a year ago after robbin’ a train and massacrin’ everyone in it. He’s wanted in about nine different counties.”

Shoko takes another brief look at the poster before someone flags her down from down at the bar. Saved by the bell. “I can’t say I have seen him, fellas,” she apologetically says. “‘Scuse me.” 

She hurries off, leaving you with the two cowboys. “How about you, ma’am?” Geto asks, passing the poster to you. “You recognize this face by any chance?” You look down, studying Valentine’s face.

You have, but first, you need to read these guys. “I’ve seen him in the posters, but not in person. May I ask why you two are here?” 

You keep it casual and curious, making sure you don’t sound too suspicious. “We were paid by a private source to track down Valentine for his crimes,” Geto vaguely explains. 

“And for personal business,” Gojo adds with a smirk. “You see, we were in, uh…business with Valentine some time ago and never got our cut.”

He doesn’t need to go any more into detail than that. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “We don’t like bein’ played with,” he says, his voice dipping an octave, sending a chill down your spine. “Or when someone’s money is funny, so we came here to exchange words with him.” 

‘Words or bullet?’ you want to ask, but you instead bite your tongue and sip your drink. 

“We’ve been told he was last seen in this town,” Geto explains. “We figured everyone comes to saloons so why not check here?” He slides the poster away from you, a kind yet flirty smile crossing his beautiful face. “But even if he isn’t, we can still enjoy a drink with a pretty lady.” 

You roll your eyes, having heard that line before. “Does that line work with all the girls?” you scoff. Gojo coughs up his whiskey as he laughs, but Geto doesn’t take it to heart. In fact, he chuckles.  “I see not with you,” he replies. 

“I like that,” Gojo states once he’s recovered, his blindfolded eyes set dead on you. “You’ve gotta be the first person who isn’t scared of us or tryin’ to jump in bed with us.”

You passively shrug, twirling your tongue around the rim of the glass. “I’ve been around gunslingers in my time.” 

At this, the duo share a look unbeknownst to you, quite interested in the pretty thing sitting with them at the bar. “Oh, really?” Gojo drawls and you realize your mistake. “Any of these encounters you’d care to share, little lady? I’m quite interested.”

Geto nods, his gaze like molten fire. “I am too.” 

You suddenly feel your mouth grow dry and your cheeks become hot. Your body reacts in a way it never has with any man you’ve been with, not even your first love! The way they continue to stare at you, giving you their undivided and unwanted attention, is even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Luckily, your boss comes to the rescue, barreling up to the bar like he wasn’t watching the duo from afar and shaking in his boots. 

“Oh, gentlemen!” he shouts, giving them both a hard, eager handshake. “Welcome, welcome! Can I offer you two another drink or a dance free of charge?”

Gojo ignores him like he isn’t even talking, leaving Geto to handle this. “Thanks, but no thanks,” he says, plastering on a kind smile. “We’re here for some information about him.” 

He passes Kenzo the poster and you watch in real time as the color in your boyfriend’s face drains. “Have you seen this guy anywhere?” Geto asks, squinting at him.

Gojo peers at him from under his hat, his stare intense even with the blindfold covering his eyes. Kenzo clears his throat and leans in to whisper to Geto. You pretend to ignore them though you secretly strain to hear. “Let’s talk in private,” he whispers. “Even the walls have ears, I’m afraid.” 

Geto nods and nudges to Gojo who sighs and downs the rest of his drink. To your shock, Geto puts a hand out to you for a shake. Though hesitantly, you take his hand and feel the room grow hotter than a sauna when he places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “It was a pleasure meetin’ you, ma’am,” he softly says. “Hopefully, we’ll cross paths again.” 

His eyes gleam as he tips his hat at you, leaving Gojo to follow Kenzo upstairs. Gojo doesn’t follow right away, instead digging into his pocket for some coins and placing them on the bar in front of you. “For your drinks and yours,” he says with a crooked smile. “Have a good night, little miss.” 

Then, just like Geto, he leaves as if he didn’t just steal the air you breathe with it. It takes a moment to get your head back, but once you do, you down the rest of your drink and get up from your seat. Shoko catches your eye and gives you a look, her eyes telling you a message: 

“Don’t get caught,” she warns you. “And don’t get killed.” 

You nod, blowing her a kiss, before following your boss and the duo upstairs.

[viktuurishipper96]

”The Scottish/Caledonian beauty of the moon”

Douglas looks so beautiful in his blue dress that suits him nicely for the ball and Oliver would dance with him as soulmates. Then the two kiss as an incense burner glows beautifully and shooting stars with a northern lights on a perfect night, just the two of them.

I’m so happy this is one of my favorite piece and I was inspired by @kenora-pizza , @flamingoprincess25 and @sixteen-austerity for this idea and I’m delighted for this. And a fanfic by @d0ugg1e (that was beautiful. Also this one is for you @dilemmaart

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

(requested)(@kayleigh--23) [fem reader] contains: slow burn, angst, death, depression, fire, mentions of sexual assault, non-consensual touch, abandonment, jealousy, mentions of violence, childhood friends to lovers, reader's nickname is 'Daisy'. pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: you and billy grew up together, and when he skips town, you're devastated. tragedy throws the two of you together again, and you're forced to confront your longtime feelings for him. author’s note: I switched up the timeline to work a little better with the story and the ages/stats may not be quite show-accurate but oh such is life. There's a little bit of Spanish in here that is not google translated, but I am not a native speaker so be warned. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

For as long as you could remember, you'd been counted as one of the boys.

Your older brother, Joe, was the only sibling you had, and in the town the two of you grew up there weren't many options for friends your age. Most of the girls around those parts were socialites in training that were far older than you and the boys teased you too much, so you usually wound up going wherever your brother did.

Joe had an easygoing nature, so naturally he got on well with an abundance of the boys his age, both as a child and a young man. But his best friend by far was Billy, a dark-haired Irish immigrant who you'd known ever since his family moved to town. He and you had bonded at first over your respective brothers having the same name, then over riding and horses.

When you were younger you often tagged along when Billy and Joe would go off to play their games, and neither of them minded you. You usually kept to yourself anyways, playing games of silent make believe with pretty rocks you'd find along the trails. Sometimes they'd rope you into whatever they were doing, and you obliged, just happy to be a part of the fun.

As you all got older, Billy and Joe's games turned into handling guns, so naturally you learned too, since your circles were so limited. You'd spend hours in the sun, shooting cans off fence posts. It was a freeing thing- to be out there in the wilderness and not worry about what you should or shouldn't be doing.

The girls in town would poke fun at you for hanging out with boys, but you paid them no mind for the most part. You'd take your worries over theirs any day.

The years were spent climbing trees and hopping fences to steal apples, always laughing, always content. You felt that you wanted for nothing. You had a father and brother who loved you, and a friend in Billy. What more could you possibly need?

Billy was over at your house for dinner a few times a week, laughing and joking with you and Joe like he'd been born into it. Your father was fond of him as well, treating him like one of his own. And you always thought of him like that too, like another brother, just as good as Joe.

But when you were sixteen and Billy was seventeen, something switched.

Joe was off doing something for your father, so it was just you and Billy that evening. He'd suggested riding since it was sunny out for the first time in a while, the rain having taken up a great deal of the springtime. You'd agreed, and off the two of you went, exploring the prairie with the vigor only the young possess.

"Think you can race me to that tree?" you asked, nodding at it on a hill in the distance.

"You bet, but don't cry when ya lose Daisy." He called you by your nickname, grinning as he did. As a child you'd been obsessed with the little white flowers, picking them and putting them everywhere. He'd started calling you by that name and hadn't stopped.

"You wish!" You tugged on your horse's reins, and you were off, the wind in your hair, a rush of adrenaline shooting through you as you kept your eyes on the horizon. Billy was fast, but you liked to think you were faster. You'd been riding this horse since you were young.

Easily you reached the tree before he did, and he groaned good naturedly, hopping off his horse and tying the reins to a low branch. You were about to do the same when he suddenly reached up, grabbing you around the waist, hauling you off the horse and spinning you around. You squealed in surprise, and he stumbled, sending the two of you rolling down the hill. You tumbled together, shrieking with laughter as you reached the bottom.

He did the gentlemanly thing and made sure you landed on top of him, your face buried in his chest as you laughed.

"Well, I know you won but I damn sure didn't lose," he laughed, one of his arms landing on your back.

And in that moment, when you looked up, your hair in your face, and saw Billy's bright blue eyes piercing yours, it hit you.

You loved him.

He reached over to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and your heart fluttered, a little smile coming to your face. "I dunno, I think seeing your face when you tripped was the best prize of all."

He laughed and sat up, giving you a nudge with his shoulder. "I guess we're both winners then."

Then he stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, the feeling of his warm fingers making your stomach flip. He held your hand as you walked back up the hill, and you tied your horse on a branch so the two of you could sit in the shade of a tree. You let him talk aimlessly, distracted by your new discovery.

Suddenly you were noticing how handsome he was, how his hair fell in little curls on his forehead, how his skin was slightly tanned with a freckle here and there, how his smile was endearingly just a little crooked. And his eyes, the color of a clear sky. You were wholly enamored by him, and he had no idea.

He chattered with you for a while as you mused over it all. As the two of you watched the sunset, he reached over and picked a wildflower, placing it in your hand.

"For you," he said, his charming smile directed at you.

You treasured that memory every night after that.

From that point on, you were unsure how to act around him. He would joke around with you like usual and you responded in the like, but now with subconscious battles waging. Did he like you too? Were you just a little sister to him? What would Joe think?

All the things you normally did with him and Joe were now overthought on your part. You felt self-conscious now about going swimming with them in the lake, because you'd be wearing your white chemise, and they were shirtless in their underwear. The chemise stuck to your body when you swam, clinging to your newly grown breasts and your wet skin. Joe didn't pay any mind to it of course, but you could see that Billy noticed. Does that mean something?

Shooting was still fun, but one time when you missed and he stepped in to correct your form, you felt your breath hitch at his body being so close to yours.

You nursed the crush on him for a year, trying desperately to act normal around him so he wouldn't notice.

When your father died suddenly, you didn't have time for such things anymore. Joe stepped up to take over the ranch, and you did too, balancing books and managing the workers. You lost several nights of sleep trying to learn how to run everything properly. Your mother was long gone and your brother was taking care of the more physical aspects, so the responsibility fell on you.

Billy still came around to help out, but you were so busy you barely noticed. A part of you mourned it, the lost time. Because even tragedy couldn't squash feelings.

One day, he came over with a bunch of wildflowers, smiling as he gave them to you. He twisted his hat in his hands. "I just...I thought you could use somethin' pretty," he said, his blue eyes earnest.

You'd nearly burst into tears at the gesture, throwing your arms around his neck. He wrapped one arm around your waist, careful not to squash the flowers. "Thank you," you murmured, pulling back and kissing his cheek. "They're beautiful."

There was that charming smile again, melting your heart. "Thought of you when I saw 'em, you know cause they're-" he cut himself off, looking down and shaking his head. "Anyway, I'm glad you like 'em Daisy."

"How's your mama doing?" you inquired softly. His mother was sick, last you'd heard, with the same illness that had taken his brother.

Billy sighed, his emotion making him seem a hundred instead of eighteen. "She's hangin' in there."

"Good," you said, giving him a half smile. "Give her a kiss for me. She's the sweetest lady around these parts."

"Yes'm," he nodded. Then, he reached one of his hands up to cup your cheek, looking into your eyes with all the sincerity you'd ever seen from him. His palm was rough, and you liked the feeling, unable to help leaning into it as you gazed up at him. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed your cheek, the little bit of stubble he had scratching against your soft skin.

Your smile was pure. "Was that from your mama?"

"No," he said, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "That was from me."

Billy leaned in and kissed your forehead, holding your head close to his shoulder for a moment before pulling back. As he left, his fingers trailed down your cheek, chucking you under your chin. "I'll see ya 'round, Daisy."

And then he trudged down the stairs, off to his horse to leave. You stood there on the porch, leaning against the railing for a moment and watching him get on his horse. Lifting your fingers in a wave, you watched him tip his hat before riding away.

You were distracted all night, frequently looking over at the wildflowers you'd put in a vase on your desk. His kisses played over and over again in your head like they were the only thing in it. When Joe came home, he asked what had your head in the clouds and you just said you had a good day. No need for him to know his best friend was kissing you, even innocently.

Billy's mother passed away one lonely night, and your heart ached for him like it hadn't for anyone else. Whenever you saw him after that, he carried a subtle melancholy that one had to know him to notice.

Joe noticed, you knew, and so he distracted Billy, frequently meeting up with him and another friend of theirs, Jesse. The man was an outrageous flirt, but good with a gun, and the other two boys liked his company well. You didn't know if what they got up to was legal, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, staying home and managing things there.

You'd catch a glimpse of Billy every now and then and remember that night on the porch, wondering if that was what he thought of when he saw you too. The nights were lonely when Joe was out with them, which was almost every night, and you longed for simpler times before anyone died. You yearned for the luxury of your young love for Billy because everything was different now. Childhood was over.

It seemed everywhere you looked a memory burst from your fingertips, the surfaces you touched more than senses. You mourned the loss of Joe, Billy and you. Those carefree wonderful children. It was all gone now.

On a rainy night in August, you were still in this haze, trapped in the past you could never reclaim. It was unusually chilly for this time of year, so you were sitting near the fireplace, trying to warm both your body and your heart. It was late. You'd been hoping Joe would come home soon but as the clock ticked, you realized it'd be another late night for him. You felt yourself growing tired, so you stood up, intending to go to bed.

Just as you started for the stairs, there was a heavy but frantic knock on the door, and you frowned. Who could be here this late?

You went to the door, opening it hesitantly, taken aback when you saw Billy on the other side. He was shivering, dripping water onto the porch. His eyes almost seemed like they were frozen in time, stuck on something he'd seen that'd change him forever.

"Billy?" you breathed, taking him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"'M sorry Daisy, 'm sorry for comin' here," he muttered, his teeth chattering.

You shushed him, bringing him to sit by the fire, spreading a blanket out for the two of you. He kicked off his boots before sitting beside you, his arms tight around himself to try and keep warm. The heat from the fire helped him loosen up after a moment, his shoulders relaxing, but only a little.

Your face shrouded with worry; you leaned closer to him. "Billy? What happened?"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and looking like he was trying not to cry. You'd never seen him like this. Not when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was ten, not when he'd stepped on a bee the same year, hell, not when his brother and mother died within such short time of each other. But now, now he was broken. He was falling apart just as you'd been for the past few months.

Wordlessly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tight, and he buried his face in your shoulder. His arms wound around your waist, holding you snug to him. The front of your dress was getting wet because he was still soaked, but you didn't care, your body falling perfectly into his as you did your best to comfort him.

After a while of silence, he pulled back, just looking at you. There were tears clinging to his eyelashes, and his eyes looked bluer than you'd ever seen them. His lips parted, and his gaze was intense. Apparently tonight was the night for firsts, because this was another way you'd never seen him. His hands came up to your face, touching your cheeks hesitantly like he was afraid you'd disappear. One of his hands fell back to your waist, and you shivered slightly at the touch, unable to help yourself.

Billy's other hand slid to the back of your head, in your hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. He was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. You felt a pull in your heart, an urge to be closer, to be with him. It was impossible to remember what was lost now when he was right in front of you.

"Daisy." He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing softly, saying your name so quietly it felt like a prayer, a plea.

"Billy," you breathed, searching his eyes. You thought you knew every part of him, but you didn't know what he was going to do next.

So, when he kissed you, it was a supernova.

His lips crashed into yours, hot despite his trembling, needy in light of whatever the hell he'd been through that night. You'd never been kissed before, not like this. He was starving, desperate, and you had never wanted him more.

The hand in your hair pressed you closer to him, and you saw it all in his eyes when he pulled back slightly, the burning within him. Your hands framed his face, you leaned in for another kiss, and this time it didn't stop.

Before you knew it you were on your back, tearing at his shirt buttons. He shouldn't be wearing his wet clothes anyway. You did not think about Joe coming home, you did not think about the past for the first time in so long. His hands were on you too.

He caressed your body like he'd created it. Billy must have smoothed you out with his fingers, because you had never seen yourself the way you were reflected in his eyes. You had imagined doing this with him, of course, but here the line between fact and fiction became blurred. Is this real?

When he fastened his lips to the pulse point on your neck you gathered it was.

His fingers nimbly tugged at the top buttons of your dress, pushing open the folds to reveal your chest, which seemed to spur him on. Within minutes the garment was tossed elsewhere, his clothes were somewhere else, and his body was weighing on top of you in ways you never knew could be erotic. Skin against skin. Lips locked in a hungry dance. Limbs so tangled you didn't know whose was whose.

The windows fogged up from the rain, or your combined heavy breathing, you weren't sure when you were done. You were still knotted with him, his skin warmed from the fire. Billy traced shapes on your face with his calloused fingers, watching you tiredly with a fascination you'd never imagined could have related to you.

His gaze was very nearly adoring. You had dreamed of him looking at you like that. And now here the two of you were, side by side facing each other after doing the most intimate thing anyone could do. He was perfect in this light, the warmth from the fire making him glow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his finger trailing lightly down your cheekbone. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

"How do you know?" you whispered, not really knowing what you were asking.

He seemed to understand anyways, leaning forward to capture your lips with his again, his kiss tender and sweet.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes. "What does this mean?"

Billy was quiet, holding your face in his hand. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again and you knew. He loved you too.

He pulled you close against him, so your head was resting on his collarbone, tucked beneath his chin. His hand rubbed up and down your arm, soothing you into sleep. You felt more comfortable, more loved than you had in a long time. In the morning you'd ask him more, you decided as you drifted off. You didn't want to ruin the quiet peace you finally held in your hands, his underneath, supporting it.

Sometime in the night, your peace shattered, and when you woke up he was gone.

The fire was burnt out. It had stopped raining. You were still lying on the blanket in front of the fireplace, but someone had taken the other half and folded it over you. Billy.

You held the edge of the blanket to your nose. It still smelled like him. Confused and dazed, you sat up and looked around. Obviously, Joe hadn't returned home because he would have thrown a fit over you sleeping naked in front of the fire. Your dress was folded messily by your side. There were dried boot prints on the wooden floor, the only shred of evidence that someone else had been there.

If you hadn't been naked, you would have thought you made the whole thing up. Billy, whom you'd loved for years, had stumbled upon your doorstep and cried in your arms, then made love to you? The notion was impossible, and yet you remembered every second of it.

You sat awhile there, the blanket around your legs, just reliving the night, before you decided you had better get up before your brother came home.

You waited anxiously for Joe, jumping to your feet when he walked through the door, hanging his hat. It was almost dark. He greeted you, looking tired.

"Joe?" you asked, standing subtly near him as he sat down, running a hand over his face.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"Have you seen Billy at all today?" you asked casually, fidgeting with your fingers.

He looked somber as he met your eyes. "Billy left town."

It felt like you'd been knocked off your feet. Your heart pounded in your ears, your face going pale. "What do you mean he left?" There was a hint of desperation in your voice, but you didn't care.

"He's gone, little," Joe said drily, looking up at you. He looked so defeated, and it broke your heart.

Still, your breath shuddered as the gravity of the situation hit you. Billy was gone. Really gone. You didn't ask Joe how he knew, just sank into a chair and blinked back the hot tears that stung your eyes. He'd kissed you, performed an act of love upon you and then left.

Joe took pity on you, putting his arms around you and hugging you tightly, despite the fact you knew he was hurting too. "I know," he said quietly. "I know."

He knew you missed him. You wanted him to come back. He didn't know what you and Billy had shared the night before, didn't know how truly his best friend had hurt you.

You clutched at Joe and let a tear slip down your cheek, coming to terms with it all. It was likely you'd never see him again.

And in that moment, you felt the last threads of the childhood you'd been grasping at slip into the darkness. It was quiet, which was somehow worse than screaming.

You gathered the papers on the desk, stacking them neatly in a pile and putting your pen down. Being hunched over a desk all day was certainly draining, and you knew some fresh air would be just the thing. It was a springy June day, and you'd been yearning to escape the confines of your work as long as you'd been awake.

The house was quiet, as it'd been for months. Joe, as a way to make a little more money, had joined Jesse's gang, assuring you it was temporary. You'd let him go; confident you could handle things at the ranch by yourself. And you were right. Things were smooth, the banality of it all welcome after the tumultuous few years you'd had.

Jesse's gang was stationed at a hideaway not terribly far from the ranch, but far enough that you didn't go often, preferring that Joe come to you. You always felt like you were walking into the lion's den when you visited, the stares of men who hadn't had women for a long while fixed on you.

So, you stayed. And everything was fine.

You mused to yourself as you left the house, saddling your horse and meandering aimlessly into the trees. The sun was hitting your skin just right, and you tilted your head back, enjoying the warmth. You stopped in a little grove you were fond of, tying your horse and wandering around as you were wont to do.

Coming across a wildflower, you bent and picked it, tucking it behind your ear. There was nobody to see how the blue looked against your hair, but you did it anyway, liking how the gesture felt.

As your eyes caught the other flowers scattered in the grass, your mind wandered to the day on the hill. When he'd picked and given you a flower that looked just like the one behind your ear. You thought of Billy often, sometimes in anger, sometimes in sadness. But today he was only a memory, something nice you got to hold for a little while but was forced to let go of.

You hoped he was well. You always would.

It was unclear how long you'd stayed out when you decided to go back, but that was the beauty of living on your own. You were on your time.

Maybe you'd be able to do some reading tonight, you pondered as you rode back, your horse trotting contently. Fun reading, not ranch reading. You looked forward to the quiet evening in store, happy at the thought of having some time for yourself.

You reached the threshold of the ranch and saw instantly that your plans had been set aflame. Literally.

Flames licked at the walls of your childhood house, consuming the only home you'd ever known. You watched in horror, hands gripping the reins, as a group of bandanaed men, hats pulled low over their faces, rounded up horses and cattle, effectively stealing your livelihood.

You were frozen, eyes wide with fear. Nonononononononono.

One of the men, wearing a blue bandanna, spotted you, and your mind realized it before your body did, so your actions were too slow. You tried to tug at the reins of your horse, but the man was already running toward you, grabbing the saddle and dragging you off.

You screamed, hoping against hope that someone nearby would hear. it was a shot in the dark. Nobody lived less than twenty miles away. The man clapped a hand over your mouth, silencing you and pulling you a little way from your horse. One of his companions, whose bandanna was red, came over to investigate, looking you over with something in his eyes you did not appreciate.

"What do we have here, eh?" he grinned, and you struggled, whimpering in protest, the other man holding your hands behind your back.

"We could probably do somethin' with her too," Blue said, leaning over to study your face. "Pretty little thing ain't she?"

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Your breath quickened as you realized what they wanted to do with you, and you acted before you could think about it. You kicked the Red between his legs, sending him sprawling backwards, and used that distraction to bend your knee, lifting your leg backwards and doing the same to the Blue. He groaned in pain, letting go of your hands, and you stumbled to your horse, mounting her and kicking her into a run.

Your horse galloped across the prairie, the wind blowing your hair back, hot tears running in rivers down your cheeks as you charged to the only place you knew you could go.

You had to stop to sleep at one point, and it was a restless night hidden in the trees. For food you stole berries from the bushes, thankful for your childhood that'd taught you which ones were good. You used your hands to scoop water from the creek.

Mercifully, you made it through the night without being kidnapped, and continued on to Jesse's hideaway, making it there about mid- afternoon. Your legs were sore from being atop a horse for hours, but you were afraid to stop longer than you had to.

At last, you could see the hideaway over the hill, and you rode desperately, stealing through the entrance. You could see a man standing at the water pump, and you prayed it was Joe, or even Jesse, someone. You jumped from your horse, tying her up on a fence post and running to him.

As you got closer, you could see it wasn't Joe or Jesse, but you kept moving toward him. Even if it was a new recruit, he could tell you when your brother would be back. You could pick out his features the closer you got, his dark hair, his tall build. The man heard you approaching and turned to face you, his eyes widening when he saw who you were.

You halted in your tracks, a few yards away from him, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your breast, both from the ride and the shock.

"You're so beautiful", you remembered, the words echoing through the hallowed halls of your memory. "I never thought anyone could be this beautiful."

He took a careful step toward you. "Daisy?"

The name only he'd ever called you on his lips after forever of not seeing him was the breaking point, and you burst into tears, running into his arms.

Billy held you against his chest, his arms secure around your shaking body. He whispered soothing things to you as you cried and clung to him like a lifeline. He dug his nose into your hair, kissing the top of your head. As he did, you wondered if it was a way of comforting you, or a gesture because he'd missed you. Maybe it was both.

"Shh, Daisy," he soothed, one arm around your waist, rubbing your back, the other at the back of your head, holding you to him. "You're gonna make yourself faint. Deep breaths now, c'mon."

He demonstrated for you, breathing in deep through his chest, the motion moving your body with him. You copied him, feeling your heart rate slow down and your mind clear a little, giving you refuge from the utter panic that'd been raging for the past twenty-four hours.

"That's it, just like that," he muttered, running his hand through your hair. "Everything's alright, you're safe. I've gotcha."

You let yourself relax into him, breathing softly for a moment and savoring him. You'd missed Billy, you knew that. But being in his arms again reminded you just how much. The envelope you thought you'd thrown away was torn open.

"You wanna tell me what's got ya so upset now?" Billy murmured against you, rocking you back and forth slightly, still holding you tight to him.

Taking in a shuddering breath, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. He lifted a hand and caught a tear that had trembled its way down your cheek. "It's alright Daisy. You can tell me."

"Another gang," you choked, remembering everything. "They set the house on fire. Took all the horses 'n cattle. There's nothing left..." At that last part, your voice went high and trailed off as a fresh wave of tears cascaded down your face. Billy paled, his eyes widening.

"Oh Daisy." He squeezed you tight to him, letting you cry. "Daisy, Daisy...'m so sorry. Musta been awful..." Billy pressed his lips to your hair again. "'S okay. You're safe now."

You stood there with him, realizing his arms were the only thing in the world that could comfort you. You never wanted to leave the safety of them. Oh, how you'd missed them, missed him.

"You left me Billy," you breathed, unable to help it.

"I know sweetheart," he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips as if he'd always said it. It warmed your heart.

"You left Joe too."

"I did."

"We needed you."

"I needed you too," was his quiet response. You looked up from his chest, searching his eyes when suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

"Who's this?" When you turned to see who it was, through teary eyes you saw a woman with brown hair holding a pot standing a few feet away. You found her rather pretty, but still furrowed your brow, confused. Joe had never mentioned a woman around, and you'd certainly never seen her before.

Billy told the woman your name, and maybe it was your imagination, but his arms seemed to stiffen a bit around you, holding you in closer. "Her brother's Joe."

"Ah, I see," the woman said, eyeing you. You gave her a little smile, not really in any position to meet new people. Still, you wanted to be friendly. It wasn't her fault you were homeless.

"Daisy this is Barbara," Billy said, nodding at the woman, who was still studying you. Her eyes lingered on the way you clung to Billy, seeming to pick up on the familiarity between the two of you.

"Hello," you said shyly, still wary of letting go of Billy. He didn't seem to mind, running his hand soothingly through your hair.

She didn't say hello back.

Billy looked up into the distance, and you heard the distinct sound of several hooves on the earth. The gang was back.

You let go of Billy and turned to watch them ride down the hill, spotting Joe instantly among them. Jesse was at the head, whooping and hollering as was usual. Billy kept a protective hand on your shoulder as the gang dismounted, seeming to know without you telling that you didn't exactly feel safe around most of them.

Joe ran up as soon as he saw you, pulling his bandana down. "What're you doin' here little?" Then he saw the tear tracks on your face. "What happened?"

He held out his arms and you fell into him. Joe hugged you tightly, albeit confusedly. "You shouldn't be here, you oughtta head back home-"

"Ain't no home to head back to Joe," Billy cut him off, folding his arms, his eyes on you.

Joe looked down at you, frowning. "What's he mean?"

You told him what happened, and his face fell. Even if he'd been absent lately, he'd grown up in the same house, held the same memories you did. He hugged you again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, little."

You sniffled, shaking your head. "I'm just glad I got away in time."

"Me too," Joe said, concernedly looking over you for injuries. "Ride over was alright? Didn't hit any trouble?"

"No," you shook your head again. "I had to stop and sleep, but when I rode in Billy was right there and-"

You'd looked over at Billy as you said it, but you cut yourself off when you saw his face. He wasn't watching you anymore. His eyes were on Barbara, who was in the middle of a nice long kiss with Jesse.

That look. You knew it not only because you'd spent half your life reading him, but because you'd felt it before, when you'd seen him flirt harmlessly with girls in the town you grew up. Jealousy. And a tinge of heartbreak. Mixed with that, hidden slightly beneath that was something else. Another thing you'd seen before. That slight, subtle look of possession.

You'd only seen it one time, and that time happened to be a certain night by the fireplace, right after something you'd only dreamed of sharing with him before.

And that's when it hit you.

He'd slept with her.

Billy had offered you his room, but you'd refused, opting to wait in Joe's for him. You didn't want to look at Billy right now.

When your brother finally came in, you sat up straight, looking at him expectantly. He held up a dress. "Took a bit of convincing, but this is one of Barbara's. You can wash the one you're wearing." He scratched his neck. "Me 'n some of the boys'll go back to the house 'n see if there's anything to salvage in a bit. Just in case."

You took it from him, holding it in your lap. It was blue, not the most flattering but you didn't care.

"Any news?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

"We sent a letter," Joe said, sitting down next to you. "All there's to do now is wait. But don't hold your breath. The law ain't fast around here."

"Thank goodness for you," you muttered, and he half-grinned, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah, that's the way we like it," he said, looking down at his hands.

You were quiet for a moment before you asked, "When did Billy get here?"

Joe hesitated. "'Bout a week ago. Jesse found him passed out in the desert. Left him here with Barbara to get him healthy again while we rode out." He looked up at you. "I was gonna tell you."

"It's okay," you said, meaning it. "There wasn't any time to tell me between you leaving and...this." A familiar wave of grief passed over you as you thought about everything again. "When did Barbara join the gang? I've never seen her before."

"Jesse found her two months back," Joe explained. "Took a real liking to her. She was runnin' away from her folks. Seems they ain't nice people."

"And Barbara and Jesse're...?" you let your question trail off.

Joe laughed. "Yeah. If what I hear through the walls is any indication."

"Ah." You didn't tell Joe what you knew about her and Billy, even though hearing this confused you. Billy must have slept with her while the rest of the gang was gone. Joe wouldn't know why it had any significance to you.

Joe nodded, putting his hand on your shoulder. "You can stay here for a while, little, until we get things figured out. I'm sure Barbara'd be happy to have some help 'round here."

You weren't too sure Barbara would be happy to have anything to do with you at all, but you didn't tell Joe this, instead forcing a smile and nodding. "Okay."

"Good," Joe said, standing up from the bed, the loss of his weight making the springs creak. "I'll leave ya to get changed." He shut the door behind him.

You peeled your short-sleeved dress from your body, also in a light blue color. It'd been one of your favorites, and you were thankful it'd been spared from the fire.

Barbara's dress fit you well. It wasn't as stylish as yours, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. At least it was clean.

You took your dress outside to wash, scrubbing it of dirt and sweat and whatever else you'd encountered on the way over. When it was hanging out to dry, you wandered to a nearby tree, leaning against it and looking out at the plains for a moment. It was a sunny day, and you enjoyed it the best you could despite the circumstances.

The tree's branches were low enough for climbing, so you hauled yourself up, legs swinging as you sat on a branch midway from the top, leaning against the trunk. The bark was scratchy against your skin, but you paid the sensation no mind, just staring at the clear sky.

Footsteps crunched through the grass below you. You didn't turn your head to see who it was. Call it a sixth sense but you always knew when he was near.

Billy scaled the tree to sit on the same branch, leaning back on another one just a little higher than yours. Of course he'd want to talk to you.

"Joe 'n the others left for the house," he said, but you didn't turn your head, still watching the clouds.

"I didn't stay to see how far the fire got," you said quietly. "I don't know if there's anything worth saving."

"Still." Billy shifted. "They'll be back tomorrow mornin'."

You turned your body to face his, so your back was fully against the trunk. In your frenzy earlier, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. He'd grown in his time away from you. He seemed sturdier, surer of himself. His hair was a little bit longer, his skin a little more weathered. And he was handsomer than ever. "You didn't go with 'em?"

"They figured I'd best not show my face 'round those parts just in case," he said, half smiling. "Y'know, cause of last time I was there."

You were quiet, still looking at him, and his smile dropped. "You don't know."

"Last time I saw you was when we..." you trailed off, biting your lip. "You didn't tell me anything, just-"

"I'm sorry for that, Daisy," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Sorry for sleeping with me?" you asked, your voice's tone heightening pathetically.

"No," Billy shook his head instantly. "Not that...never that. I'm sorry for takin' advantage of you. For not tellin' you what was goin' on."

"What happened?" you asked, your voice desperate. You looked at him with all the hurt that had festered in your being for months. "You slept with me and then left. I was so worried..." your breath hitched, and you looked away.

"Daisy," he murmured, reaching for your hand, but you moved it to your face, running a hand over it. Billy sighed, and you could feel it, the weight of whatever he'd done, wherever he'd been. "The night before...Jesse'd-" he cut himself off for a moment. "Jesse'd talked me into doin' somethin' real stupid. Somethin' that got me arrested. I'd escaped from jail the night I came to see you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes wide. Given the ranch had been a little way from town, you didn't often hear of news like that, mostly keeping to yourself. Of course you wouldn't have known. "Billy..."

"I'm a wanted man, Daisy," Billy breathed, his blue eyes piercing yours. "I've been in another county for a while, and then I got into some more trouble and left. Got robbed somewhere in the desert and Jesse found me 'n brought me here. That's all there is to it." He brought his hand to your face, then through your hair so he was holding you there. The feeling of his big hand there was familiar, comforting.

You sniffled a bit, closing your eyes for a moment to feel it. Everything made sense now. The way he'd come to you, the reason he'd left. But it'd still hurt you.

"That night," you said softly, your eyes still glued to his. You couldn't have pulled away if you tried. "What we did...did it...mean anything to you?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his eyes earnest. "Of course it did Daisy...I'd never..." he swallowed. "You've been on my mind a whole lot since I left."

His words made your heart soar with hope, but then you remembered Barbara, and it plummeted back to earth. The realization lowered your voice. "I've thought about you too Billy."

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes hopeful.

"Yeah." You looked down. "I missed you."

Billy wordlessly moved closer to you on the branch, drawing you into his arms. He kept his hand in your hair, his favorite place it seemed. He held you to him for a bit, and you relaxed for the first time in a day.

Holding you against him still, he asked, "What exactly happened at the ranch Daisy?"

"I already told you." Your words were muffled against his chest.

"Yeah, but I know that ain't all that happened," Billy said, pulling you back a little so he could look at you. "I know you. There's somethin' else."

You thought with a tiny shudder of the men who'd grabbed you, and what they would have done to you if you hadn't gotten away. "No. I told you everything."

"Daisy." His voice was firm, and you knew he meant it.

"Billy," you said back, leaning into his chest again. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay." You were thankful he didn't ask any more questions.

You spent the night in Joe's room since he was absent, and all the while you thought about Billy. And Barbara. Was she in his bed right now, or was he in hers? Would you wake up to the sounds of them doing something you didn't even want to think about? Eventually you fell asleep, tortured by what you'd make up.

When you woke in the morning, you donned your dress that had dried out over the porch yesterday and went outside, looking for anyone. You spotted Barbara at the water pump and made your way over, standing shyly in front of her. "Hello."

She looked at you, giving you a once over that seemed to be her habit. "Hello."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands behind your back. She intimidated you, and it wasn't just because you knew about her and Billy. There was a certain element about her that caused you to retreat into your shyer tendencies.

Barbara paused for a moment, thinking. "You can fry the eggs in the kitchen for the three of us. And wake Billy. He's a deep sleeper."

You knew that, and for some reason it hurt that she did. Nodding, you turned around and went right back to the house, slightly bothered by your interaction with her.

When you got to the kitchen you decided to make the eggs first, hoping the smell would rouse Billy from sleep. When the food was plated and he still hadn't appeared, you sighed and went to his bedroom, the only door that was closed.

He was shirtless as he slept, lying on his stomach with his head turned to the side. The sheets were pulled to his waist, revealing the messy outline of his legs. Billy looked pretty when he was asleep, but you always thought him pretty.

You sat on the bed, contemplating lying down with him. in your experience shaking him rarely, if ever worked. Still, you tried, and unsurprisingly it was not successful.

So, you went with your other idea lying down facing him. Your hand reached out to trace your fingers down his arm. He took in a sharp breath, and instantly you knew he was awake. Billy's arms reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest. "Daisy," he murmured without opening his eyes.

"You gotta wake up Billy," you said softly, putting a hand on his warm chest. He opened his eyes, almost seeming surprised that you were there.

"'M I dreamin'?" he mumbled sleepily, and you smiled, shaking your head.

"Don't think so." You ran your fingers up and down his arm again. He'd filled out, his muscles were tauter.

He shook his head, seeming to remember something. "Right." Billy loosened his hold on you, but still didn't let go.

His hair was a mess, little dark curls matting his forehead. Your eyes roved over him, catching all the familiar details you'd picked up on from your years together. The way his hair curled by his ears. The tiny birthmark under his jaw. His thick, dark eyelashes.

You ached to touch him, but you didn't, letting him hold you a little longer before you heard the front door open. Barbara was back. Sitting up, you rubbed his shoulder. "C'mon, get up. We've got eggs."

Billy grumbled a bit, pawing at you. "Couple more minutes?"

"Uh uh, get up," you said, getting off the bed and leaving, shutting the door behind you.

Barbara was in the kitchen when you came back, eating already. She nodded at you. "Thanks."

You gave her a tiny smile. "You're welcome. Least I can do for you lettin' me stay."

She half smiled dryly at you. "It'd be a sorry sight if I kicked Joe's sister out."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you were thankful when Billy walked in, wearing a blue striped shirt. It was one of your old favorites, and you wondered if he'd known that. Likely not.

"Thanks Daisy," he said, grabbing his portion. You all lingered in the kitchen, eating quietly, the only sound being forks scraping against plates.

Barbara put her clean plate on the counter first. "I'm gonna go finish chores. Billy? You comin'?"

He paused. "I was gonna take Daisy for a ride. That okay or do ya need help?"

She looked from him to you, and you looked down at your plate, not knowing if you should say something. "No. That's alright, I'll manage."

And with that she left the kitchen. You looked over at Billy. "Are you sure she doesn't need help?"

"Nah, all this week by the time I got up she usually had everything mostly done," Billy said, putting the last forkful of eggs in his mouth.

"Are you sure?" you asked nervously, looking at the door she'd gone out of. "I'd feel bad if-"

"Daisy, it's alright," Billy assured you, seeing your empty plate and taking it, stacking it on Barbara's. "After what you've been through, you're allowed to have a day, alright? 'Specially if your work habits haven't changed since I last saw you."

You smiled at that. "I do kinda get carried away."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "C'mon, let's go. I miss ridin' with you."

You let him pull you to the horses, unable to say no to him, but also because you'd missed it too.

Mounting your beloved horse, you petted her mane softly. She must've been tired after the long ride here, but now after a good night's sleep she nickered softly at your touch, and you smiled fondly.

You guided your horse to follow Billy's, riding through the open hills and into a forest-like area, with trees and wildflowers blooming from the earth. It was beautiful, and you enjoyed your surroundings as you followed him. It was funny to think that just a day ago you'd been doing this exact thing, with no hope of seeing him again. But now here you were.

Keeping to the routine the two of you had always followed, you tied up your horses and went to walk through the trees together.

"You still ride like this often or did I jump the gun and assume you did?" Billy asked, striding alongside you through the grass.

"I do, pretty often now that I-" you cut yourself off. "When I lived alone."

"You were really livin' by yourself?" Billy asked, peering down at you as you walked.

"Yeah," you said. "Since Joe joined the gang."

"I see," Billy said, keeping his tone even. But you knew he objected to the principle of it. A woman living alone with no male protection.

"I've been fine," you said, trying to convince both of you. "I keep to myself, y'know? I've always liked that."

"Yeah," he said. His eyes looked sad. "But I imagine it still got lonely."

You were quiet for a moment before responding. "In a way."

He half smiled, looking down as you reached a hill, steadying his motions so he wouldn't fall. "Is that what you've been up to the past little bit? Ridin' and bookkeepin'?"

"Pretty much," you said. "I keep a quiet life. Not like you at all, I'm sure."

He chuckled lightly. "It ain't at all like you're imagining, I'm sure."

"Not from what I've heard," you smiled. "Joe filled me in a bit. Billy the Kid, huh?"

"Hey now," he grinned. "It's William H. Bonney now for all intents and purposes."

"What's the H stand for?" you asked, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

"That's enough outta you," he pushed your arm lightly, and you laughed. The two of you stopped under a tree, sitting down in the shade for a bit. Billy settled in next to you, bending down and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You picked a blue wildflower, twirling the stem between your fingers. It was the same color as the dress you'd been loaned, lighter than the one you had on now, lighter than Billy's shirt. "Barbara..."

"What about her?" he asked, looking at you, his chin remaining on your shoulder.

"I like her," you said, and to your surprise, as you said it you found it was true. Despite her stiffness you appreciated what she'd been through, how she'd been able to find her place here.

"You like everyone Daisy," Billy half-smiled, leaning back against the tree.

"I mean it," you said, mirroring his actions and turning on your side to face him. "She's lovely. I can see why you...like her."

"Why'd you say it like that?" Billy asked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You were quiet for a moment, contemplating whether or not you should go there. "I know you slept with her."

He turned his head fully to face you and you looked down at your flower again. Billy used his finger to tilt your chin up. "Daisy how'd you-?"

"The way you looked when she kissed Jesse yesterday," you said softly. "I know you Billy. And that's just how you looked at me after..." You trailed off and looked away.

Billy's arm around you stiffened, but he didn't take it away. "You're right. It did happen once. But...I dunno Daisy," he said tiredly. "I was alone with her after I almost died. The heat of the moment got to me. I didn't know she was with Jesse. And now that you're here-" he paused. "It don't mean what you think it does."

You shook your head. "You're not one to even kiss someone for no reason Billy. I know you care about her."

"She saved my life, of course I care about her," he breathed, meeting your eyes. "But not like you, Daisy. Never like you."

You looked down, feeling emotional. "But you left me."

"Daisy, I had to," he pleaded. "I was wanted, hell I'm still wanted-"

"But you could have told me something, anything instead of making me feel like a warm body," you said, drawing back from him. His arm fell from around you, and he looked at you for a moment, seeming surprised.

But then he nodded somberly. "You're right. You're completely right Daisy. I'm sorry."

Your smile was barely there. "I understand Billy."

Then with that you stood up, going to find your horse.

Joe returned with more than you thought he would have, telling you the fire had consumed a lot of the first floor but not the second. With no structure to stand up on, it had collapsed of course, but he was still able to salvage a few of your dresses, and some of your books.

You'd been thrilled at that, relieved to be able to give Barbara her dress back, thanking her profusely. She'd only smiled tightly and taken it away to wash.

Joe had been right about the law being slow. A week from the fire and you had yet to hear back from them concerning the damage to the property. So, in the meantime, you waited.

In the weeks that followed, you insisted on helping Barbara with the chores and she reluctantly let you. You took your horse out for a ride every day, sometimes without Billy, but more often with.

He started leaving with the gang to help out on jobs. You were surprised to find yourself missing him in the time he was gone. Since Joe was back, he offered you his bed, but you didn't take him up on it, still wary of whatever was happening with Barbara. No matter how casual it may or may not have been, you didn't want to upset her. Even though you could steadily feel old feelings gnawing at you, growing stronger.

You tried to keep a little distance, but it was impossible, his allure drawing you to him naturally. He'd accompany you everywhere; to the well, on your rides. Wherever you were, Billy could usually be found. You knew the rest of the gang noticed, though nobody commented on it. The weeks passed peacefully.

Until one night, when you awoke in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, a dream that felt more like a memory dancing in front of your eyes.

The men...the way they grabbed you...what they would have done to you...

You hugged your arms around yourself, shivering with tears. Even though you now knew it was just a dream, the weight of what had happened was collapsing you. You hadn't told anyone about it, even though you knew Billy was onto you.

Your head whipped to Joe, asleep in his bed. He'd offered it to you of course, but you'd declined just as you had with Billy, not wanting to upheave the house any more than you had.

Joe was the best of brothers to you. Still, you didn't want to tell him about the other events of that day. So, you stood up and went to the hallway, hoping the movement would calm your pounding heart. It didn't, which made you panic even more. You ran your hands over your arms, your breathing not slowing down. The house was quiet, so you did your best to keep it that way.

It became evident quickly that you wouldn't be able to calm yourself on your own. You needed someone near you.

Your feet carried you to the room before you knew it, opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you. When you turned, you were surprised to see Billy sitting up in his bed, the lantern by his bed lit. He frowned in surprise when he saw you. "Daisy, what-" he caught your fearful expression, your heaving chest. Then he opened his arms, recognizing the situation. "C'mere."

Giving a little whimper, you rushed to him, collapsing into his arms. Billy held you tight to him, and when his hand found its usual place behind your head you nearly sobbed with relief. He opened his knees so you could lie between them, against his bare chest as you cried softly.

"Shh Daisy, easy, easy," he murmured, smoothing his hand over your back. "Alright sweetheart, you're safe. You're safe. I've gotcha."

It was the second time he'd used that specific term of endearment, and you clung to him tighter because of it. Billy rubbed your back and rested his cheek against the top of your head. When your crying slowed down, he whispered, "Atta girl, keep it steady f'me? That's it, sweetheart, that's it."

You laid in the comfort of his arms in a haze afterwards, making sure your tizz was well and truly passed. Billy turned you on your side, facing him as he turned on his. He held you in his gaze, one of his arms wrapped loosely under you, the other on your arm, fingers going up and down in a soothing manner.

He reached out that hand, tentatively, and traced your face ever so gently. His roughened finger trailed over your cheek, your hairline, then down your nose. His eyes like the sky followed the path. His palm ended up on your cheek, and you leaned into it, your eyes locked with his.

"Daisy..." he murmured, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You knew he wanted you to tell him what had happened, why you had stumbled in crying.

"Bad dream," you whispered pathetically, closing your eyes.

Billy said nothing for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, he touched his forehead to yours briefly, a gesture of comfort that worked. "What about?"

You hesitated, sniffling lightly. Telling him sounded dreadful, but it was weighing on you so much that you felt you had no choice. "The day of the fire."

"Ah," Billy nodded respectfully, tucking your hair behind your ear. The more he touched you the better you felt.

"Not about the fire itself though," you said softly.

"Hm?" he prompted, and you wanted to kiss him right then for letting you tell what you wanted.

You closed your eyes briefly before continuing. "The day of the fire...the men who started it..." your voice was becoming higher and more hysterical as you continued, your words pushed together as you tried to get them out as quickly as possible. "They grabbed me...tried to take me somewhere. And one of them touched me-" your voice hitched as more tears fell down your cheeks.

"Oh baby," Billy murmured, and he brought you closer to him, his lips meeting your forehead. Him calling you baby only made you feel safer, more loved. He gathered you closer, so you were pressed right up against him, your hand on his chest. If his hand hadn't already found its place on the back of your head, you would have guided it there. You loved the weight of it, the way it held your face to his chest.

Your hand slid around his chest, under his arm and onto his back so you could hold onto him as well. He nudged his nose against your head, planting another kiss there. Then another. Then another.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he muttered, and you relished the feeling of his big hands on your body with the sole purpose to comfort you. "I'm sorry nobody was there. I'm sorry I wasn't there-"

"It's not your fault Billy," you said, tears still adorning your voice. "You couldn't have known-"

"No, Daisy," he said slightly more firmly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you all this time. I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry we shared something so special and then I hurt you because of it. I'm not sorry we did it, but I am sorry for how I was."

You removed your hand from his back, settling it on his own cheek. Your other hand was wedged between your chests, resting against the sheets. "It's okay Billy. It's all okay now."

He took your hand off his cheek and pressed his lips to your fingers. A wisp of a smile made its way onto your face, and you cuddled close to him. Billy held you tightly in his arms. In that moment, you felt as if he could keep the bad dreams away with only that.

From that night on, you slept in his bed.

You'd start out in your usual place on the floor in Joe's room. Then after you fell asleep, you'd slip from the spot and quietly sneak down the hall to Billy's bed and Billy's arms. There were no more nightmares after that.

It was all very innocent. You'd lay side by side, facing each other, limbs tangling tightly. He'd nudge a few kisses against your forehead soothingly. You'd take his hand in yours and guide it to the back of your head if it wasn't there already. And then the you both would fall asleep, nothing bad to report in the morning.

Billy had never been an early riser. He was always the last one to wake up, always finding some kind of excuse to sleep in. It was something you and Joe had teased him for.

But almost every morning you woke to him watching you, his oceans of eyes sleepy, his hair was a mess. He was so pretty in the morning, with the sunlight spilling through his window onto his skin. The first day this happened you realized that this was how you'd imagined you'd wake up on that night you'd spent together.

Those thoughts had been little bits of gold you'd stored in your heart, secrets you thought would die with you. But now they were real.

And even though most mornings he awoke first, some mornings you did.

On that rare occasion, you'd snuggle deeper into his arms, and he'd stir slightly, his arms tightening around you. But most of the time it was him, and you wondered if his habits had changed when he was away. But thinking back to your first morning here, you knew they hadn't.

On a Tuesday about two months into your stay, it was one of those usual mornings, and you were sprawled on your side, facing away from him. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, your legs tangled with his. You awoke to a shuffling on the bed, and then an arm twined around you and pulled you closer to Billy's warm chest.

"You're too far away," he mumbled sleepily. You turned in his arms to lie on your side and face him. Billy was on his back, looking down at you with a fond smile. He blinked sleepily, and you moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek onto him.

"Better?" you propped your chin up on his arm.

"Better," he grinned.

You were just about to settle back into him when the door opened suddenly to reveal Joe on the other side. His eyes widened in shock when he saw you cuddled in Billy's arms, in Billy's bed.

"The hell?" Joe looked utterly confused. A little betrayed, maybe.

Sitting up, you attempted to explain. "I know what this looks like-"

"Billy why're you in bed with my sister?" Joe folded his arms, eyebrows raised, tone sharp.

You looked from Joe to Billy, worried something violent would happen. But finally, Billy responded. "Daisy's been havin' nightmares. I was only makin' sure she slept."

"You have?" Joe frowned. "You ain't ever had many nightmares before little."

It was true. Before the incidents surrounding the fire, you hadn't even dreamed often. You didn't want to tell Joe what happened, but you couldn't lie to him. So, you merely nodded.

Joe's face softened. "'M sorry little. You coulda told me, y'know?"

You bit your lip and nodded again.

"But I understand," your brother affirmed, nodding at Billy. "So long as there's no funny business, yeah?"

"None," Billy nodded back. Despite all this, you knew Joe trusted Billy with you, which was saying a lot. Your brother had a habit of being overprotective.

Joe looked between the two of you again and nodded once more, leaving with that and shutting the door behind him. From that point on you went straight into Billy's room every night.

He became a symbol of comfort to you. You knew his arms were open when you needed them. Things fell back into the way they were before, only this time there was something else between you two.

You felt it in every facet of your being with him. When you'd go for walks in the hills together. When you'd wake up in his arms. When he'd shake a little pepper over your eggs before giving you your plate because he knew you liked them that way. When he'd join you under the shade of a tree and rest his head in your lap. Billy was filling in the cracks that had formed over the months. He was patching you whole.

It was unclear if anyone else noticed, but you knew they didn't not notice. The two of you were drawn together. When Billy would come home from jobs with the gang you'd run to him first. Joe would make a little quip about it before hugging you, a cheeky, knowing smile gracing his lips.

Barbara seemed immune to all of this. She continued as she always did, but you still felt bad, like you'd taken something from her. Even though the first person she'd run to was always Jesse.

You tried to let this information soothe you.

The ranch was finally attended to, and you and Joe made the decision to sell the land. It made you a pretty penny despite all the damage from the fire. That night you'd laid silently beside Billy, too sad to say anything. You'd grown up there, hell, Billy had practically grown up there too. But as you thought of the last somber months you'd spent there; you knew it hadn't been the land that made that time special.

You still had what had made it special.

Jesse became anxious about the location of the gang, so he determined it was time to leave the hideaway behind and set out for another town. You welcomed the change, packing away what little you had and following them.

If you were being honest, as long as you had Billy and Joe you knew you'd be fine. So, you left in good spirits. Barbara parted ways with the gang then, taking a job as a schoolteacher in another town. You knew the two of you would never be close, but you still parted with a smile, and a sincere thank you for all she'd done. Maybe it was your imagination, but her smile seemed a little more genuine as you said goodbye.

"People can't help but like ya Daisy," Billy said when you told him about it. He was riding alongside you behind everyone, the hideaway in the distance behind you. "You're sweet. Not likin' ya feels like hurtin' a butterfly."

The analogy made you smile, a little blush gracing your cheeks. The way he looked at you and talked to you made you feel rare.

Once you got to town, Joe came to a conclusion. While the rest of the gang kept rented rooms at a nearby inn, the two of you used the money from the ranch to buy a nice little piece of land nearby, with an old house already on it. You wouldn't have minded staying at the inn, but Joe insisted, saying he wanted something permanent for his sister. Especially now that they all had steady work. And unlike in the past, it was honest.

Billy seemed especially happy about that, chattering eagerly about how good it'd be now that they were working with the law, not against it. It was endearing how excited he was. Despite the picture wanted posters painted of him, he had a gentle heart, and he never wanted to do any wrong.

The only thing you didn't like about this new setting was that you no longer slept beside him, but your nightmares had disappeared into memories, and you determined you'd be fine. Even though you missed his warmth as the fall bled into winter.

He was still a fixture in your life. His presence was still constant. The gang was all at Joe's and your house often, but Billy was there individually even more.

It was a funny thing, what being around him so often did for you. Previously, you had remembered the childhood love you'd had for him, and it had been painted blue. But in the love you felt for him now, you could feel what you'd had before at the roots. It was a flower that you'd thought had shriveled up and died, but now you realized it was simply dormant, waiting to bloom.

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you wanted it to.

It was on your mind one night when Joe and the gang were in the kitchen. You and Billy had ventured out to the fireplace, kneeling close to it and talking. It was eerily similar to that night, the one you'd thought of lately more often than you wanted to admit.

"Do ya think you'll stay here?" Billy wondered, bending his knees to rest his arms on them.

"I don't see why not," you said thoughtfully, his blue eyes drawing yours to them like they always did. "Joe's here, you're here...I can see myself being happy here."

"I think ya are happy here Daisy," Billy said, a little smile coming to his face as he said it. "I ain't seen you this happy in a while."

He was right. You hadn't been this content since your father died. "it's the same for you Billy," you commented, shifting closer to him for warmth. "You're not as restless as you used to be."

"Well, no," he said, grinning as he looked into the fire. "There's lotsa reasons for that."

"Like...?" you prompted, tilting your head playfully.

"Well for starters, I ain't breakin' the law to make money no more," Billy said, and you nodded. "There ain't no pressure to move around so much. But also..." he turned his head to look at you. "Havin' you around. Havin' Joe around. It's made all the difference."

You were quiet for a moment, the sentiment warming you more than the fire ever could. "Having me around?"

"'Course," he said, reaching out and tugging on your arm to bring you closer to him. One of his arms slid around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Ya mean a lot to me Daisy. Ya know that, right?"

"It's still nice to hear it," you smiled, settling into his side. "You...you mean a lot to me too. Always have."

"Yeah?" he looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, you're a sweetheart anyways. My sweetheart."

The way he said it implied something else, but you didn't correct him, only lifting your head from his shoulder and looking into his eyes again. The fire was reflecting off his face, making him look softer. You looked from his eyes to his lips. There was that magnetic draw again. "And are you mine?"

He paused, looking like he'd been caught doing something, but then he slowly nodded, searching your eyes. "I've always wanted to be yours."

Your heart fluttered and you thought for a moment you were in a dream. But when he brought his hand to your cheek, you knew you weren't.

Billy acted before you could, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to yours. His hand slid to its spot in your hair. You melted.

His kiss was brief, but it imprinted itself on your being. You leaned into it, your hand resting on his chest as your lips moved against his. It was so impossible, all of it, and yet.

When he pulled back, you stayed in your haven between his arms. He pressed one, then two light kisses against your soft smile and you saw stars.

Then Joe shouted something from the other room and Billy looked up, sighing and shaking his head. He stood up, bringing you with him. His lips found your brow lightly, a silent promise that you'd talk about this later. Then he took your hand and lead you into where everyone else was. It was good he had a hold on you, because you weren't sure you could have found your way there on your own. The kiss had left you engrossed in a dreamy haze.

He sat at the table with everyone else, and when he saw there weren't any open chairs, pulled you down to sit on his thigh. Joe raised an eyebrow, but that was all. You were content to lean against Billy for the rest of the night.

It was hard to sleep when you tried after everyone left. Billy hadn't kissed you goodbye, but he'd held you close for a bit and said he'd see you tomorrow.

All these months, all this time, you hadn't been sure if he'd held onto the feelings of the past. But you supposed it didn't matter now, because he felt this way right now. He wanted you close to him as you did.

The next day you woke early. You decided to get a few errands done as a way to divert yourself. You'd see Billy later.

It was a pleasant ride into town. The winter sun was warm on your bundled up frame, and you enjoyed it. The snowstorms of late had often kept you indoors, so it was nice to have this pocket of time.

You tied up your horse and went into the general store, a list prominent in your head. Grain, candles, matches-

You halted in your tracks when you opened the door.

There were already customers inside. But you recognized them.

"Don't suppose we could take a turn with her first?" Red wondered.

"They won't know the difference," Blue shrugged.

Red's grin grew terrifyingly wider, and he reached out, hands running over your sides, stopping at your breasts. "Yeahh, she'll work great."

Before one of them could turn around and see you, you stepped out, heart pounding a hole into your chest. Your ears were ringing with the memory. The world seemed to spin. Why are they here? How did they get here?

Putting a hand to your heart to try and calm it, you looked around, spotting the inn the gang was staying at. Billy, you needed Billy.

You ran across the street, opening the door and realizing you didn't know which room he was staying in. As you wandered in frantically you found it didn't matter. He was sitting at a table with Charlie, talking about something, his back to you.

Charlie saw you though, and must have noticed your distress, because he nudged Billy, nodding at you. Billy turned around, and instantly stood, meeting you halfway and gathering you into his arms. "Daisy, Daisy, what happened? What's the matter?"

He sounded concerned, and you thanked the heavens for him. Your ear was against his heart, the steady thumping soothing you almost immediately. "They're...they're here," you mumbled weakly

"Who's here Daisy?" His hand. His hand on your head. It felt like it could shield you from everything.

You lifted your head, but his hand stayed there. Your breathing was still frantic. "The men...from the fire..."

His eyes darkened. "Where?"

"The general store," you breathed, and he gritted his teeth, looking up at the window. You tugged at his shirt. It was the striped one, the one you'd confessed to him you loved.

He looked back at you, his eyes softening. Then he moved, setting you on the chair he'd been sitting in previously, kneeling in front of you. "I need you to stay here, alright? I don't want you to ride back without me." Billy looked up, at someone behind you and summoned them. "Mrs. Peña?"

An older Mexican woman bristled over, and Billy said something to her in Spanish. She looked at you, looking confused as she responded. He nodded, squeezing your hand and saying something back.

Over the years of knowing him, you'd only picked up on a little Spanish, jealous of his ability to learn the language so easily. As Billy and Mrs. Peña conversed; you only caught a few words. Scared, safe, needs, help.

The older woman gave Billy a fond smile and nodded. He returned it, then turned his attention back to you. He kissed the fingers of the hand he was still holding. "You're gonna stay here, okay? Mrs. Peña and her husband own the inn. They're gonna keep an eye out for you."

"What are you going to do?" you whispered, your eyes wide in horror as you sifted through possibilities.

"Don't pay any mind to it," he said, squeezing your hand from where he was kneeling still. "I won't be long."

And with that, he stood up, kissed your forehead, and beckoned to Charlie, who followed him out the door. Your breaths were still fast as you watched him leave, and then you turned to Mrs. Peña. She gave you a warm smile and took your hand. You accepted it, stood up, and followed her to the kitchen, to a chair close to the sink. She gestured at it. "Sit."

You did as she asked, watching her flit around, preparing and sorting. Trying to remember the right words, you asked her in very broken Spanish if there was anything you could do to help.

She smiled and shook her head, motioning for you to stay. But you insisted. "¿Por favor?"

Mrs. Peña seemed to understand that you needed a distraction, so she took pity on you, waving you over to where she was sorting vegetables.

Billy didn't return for several hours, and so you accompanied Mrs. Peña, helping her with anything she'd let you. She spoke a little English, and you a little Spanish, so you managed. She was a very warm lady, and you felt bad for burdening her, telling her so as you helped her fold sheets in the empty front room that evening. But she shook her head, patting your hand fondly. "Eres una chica dulce."

That made you smile.

It was dark when they came back. You were surprised to see it wasn't just Billy and Charlie, but the entirety of the gang, including Joe. Mrs. Peña gave your hand another pat, and took the folded sheets away, leaving you with everyone. Billy stopped her and whispered something to her that she nodded and smiled at.

You stood up, and Joe came over, putting his arms around you and hugging you for a long time. He smiled sadly when he pulled back. "It's all okay now, little." He looked over at Billy, nodding. "Reckon you'll wanna stay here tonight. I'll bring your horse back." Joe kissed your forehead and left.

The interaction was confusing but touching. You watched your brother leave, questions swirling through your mind like a flurry. Then you turned and looked at Billy, who reached a hand out for you. "C'mere Daisy."

Of course you went to him, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you upstairs to his room. He shut the door behind you and locked it. It was only then that you noticed his knuckles were stained with dry blood.

Gasping in horror, you took the other one in your free hand, holding them up to examine them. "Billy...Billy what did you do?"

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. "It's not all my blood."

That only worried you further. "What on earth were you doing?"

Billy sighed, looking down for a second, reluctant to tell you. "We took care of the men who started the fire. You ain't gotta worry 'bout them anymore Daisy."

"What do you mean you took care of them?" you asked desperately.

He shook his head again, more firmly this time. "That's not for you to know. But it's all okay. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

You wanted to push the issue, but you realized there was probably a reason he wasn't telling you. So, you gave up. "Okay."

Billy pulled you to sit on his bed, your knees touching, and just watched you, checking for any hint of distress. "How're ya doing Daisy?"

Surprisingly, you found your token answer to be correct. "I'm okay."

He smiled briefly in acknowledgement. "Good. I want ya to be okay."

There was a comfortable quiet for a moment between you two. You didn't want to look at anything but him, didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Right now, he was your center, the very thing keeping you from floating into the sky.

Billy's hand moved to your hips, pulling you in closer. His eyes found yours as he said, "I want you to know I'm always gonna protect ya. You have Joe but ya also have me. You've always had me."

"Always," you repeated softly, and he smiled. His other hand reached up to tuck some of your hair back.

"Daisy..." he started, and you felt it. That fluttering, that warmth in your chest that he only seemed to be the cause of. "Did ya know I've always loved you?"

You tilted your head, waiting for him to explain, ignoring the butterflies sprouting in your heart.

He smiled in a nostalgic way. "You were a friend. A good friend. But I woke up one day and ya just...weren't that anymore."

"How long?" you whispered.

"Years, Daisy," he brought both his hands to your cheeks. "Years 'n years. Dunno if you remember awhile back, but me 'n Joe were comin' back from doin' somethin' in town, trouble probably." He paused to smile, shaking his head. "You were up in the branches of a tree, readin'. Looked real pretty. Think ya had a flower in your hair." Billy breathed a laugh, looking down for a second. "Mighta been a daisy. 'N ya looked up, smiled at me. And I knew I'd love ya forever."

Your lips parted slightly at the confession, and you felt a sweet smile spreading over your face. A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, and you pulled him in, kissing him softly. He made a noise of surprise but indulged, his hands falling from your face to your waist, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

"I remember that day," you said honestly, looking up at him when your lips parted. "Because a few hours later you asked me to go for a ride and you pulled me off my horse and not only did we fall down the hill, but I fell in love with you."

His smile was radiant, and you didn't need to ask if he remembered. Billy pulled you back in, kissing you fervently. He loved you. You could feel it. No need to wonder anymore. His kisses felt like a promise. I will always love you.

For hours after, there was nothing else but him.

Nothing but him as he kissed you like you were disappearing.

Nothing but him as he lowered you down onto his bed and slid the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

Nothing but him as he took his time, holding you so gently it made your head spin.

Nothing but him as he dipped his head briefly between your thighs, making your back arch and your hand squeeze around his. He'd given it to you to hold because he loved you.

Nothing but him as you and him did something you'd only done once before, but this time he wasn't going to leave.

Nothing but him as you did something you'd done many times before, nestling between his arms as you fell asleep.

When the morning came you knew it was far from the last one you'd have like this, but you savored it anyways, burrowing into his chest and hiding from the world. He peppered sweet kisses over your face, asking how you'd slept, asking for five more minutes before you both had to get up. And so you gave them to him. And five more minutes. And then another five minutes.

Because you were finally his. And he was finally yours.

Next part

[needlemeister]

ms paint iterators

[writerofadream]

Fortune favors the Bold Masterlist⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader Masterlist ⛓

Chapter One: Pilot

Chapter Two: Meet the Stars

Chapter Three: Under the Sea

Chapter Four: Dinner is Served (Or is it lunch?)

Chapter Five: Hug me (Or kiss me)

Chapter Six: Sleepless in Seattle (Or was it Canada?)

Chapter Seven: Dodgeball to the Death

Chapter Eight: Talent? Where? Certainly not here.

Chapter Nine: Wilderness Survival Camp (Again?)

Chapter Ten: How ba-a-a-d can I be?

Chapter Eleven: Shoot me (Do it)

Chapter Twelve: Bubbling up

Chapter Thirteen: Princess and the Frog

Chapter Fourteen: She's a maneater (But he loves it)

Chapter Fifteen: Tip me over (Pour me out)

Chapter Sixteen: Cooking is a way of life

Chapter Seventeen: The price is never right

Chapter Eighteen: Tequila under the stars

Chapter Nineteen: Who's the top? (your MOM-)

Chapter Twenty: Welcome back to traumatized kids weekly, I'm your host-

Chapter Twenty-One: The kids we left behind

Chapter Twenty Two: WHY AM I DREAMING OF US MARRIED (Your in love idiot is that why?)

Chapter Twenty Three: Yes, I'd like to purchase one racoon mom. Yes, her name is Lily.

Chapter Twenty Four: This is my boyfriend's, boyfriend, Geoff-

Chapter Twenty Five: He's like whiskey, she's like champange

Epilogue: Lilly Tarun

[dira333]

If I’m not too late for the most recent game I’m going to say Kisame 24!

The plotbunny game is always ongoing, so there's never a "too late"! Thanks for calling in!

Your prompt: Lonely water, won't you let us wander (how fitting!)

Lonely Water - Kisame x Reader

The ground is slick from recent rain as you run, the mist swallowing all color.

"Wait for me!" You call out with the annoyance only a five-year-old can muster, "Kisame!!"

"You're too slow!" He grinds out only moments later when his arm shoots out from your right, pulling you down a narrow alley.

"I'm not!"

"Are too!"

You huff and try to step on his foot, but he moves out of the way just in time.

“Come on,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed, “We’re going to be late.”

-

It’s not easy growing up in Kirigakure. But it helps to be a child, quick on your feet and small enough to get into all the spaces grown-ups can no longer slip through.

There’s work at the docks for children, but you have to come at the right time and know the right people if you want to keep the money that you earn.

Kisame’s good at that. He’s taller than most of the children your age, so he’s not good for most of the work, but the fishermen are afraid of him and the Shinobi let him get away with almost everything. 

“Here,” he pushes you toward one of the older ships, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

-

There used to be a time when your father didn’t want you playing with Kisame. Back then you still had money, a nice house, and people working for you instead of the other way around. But father got into fights with the wrong people. One day he just never came home.

-

“What’s a nice girl like you doing at the docks?” The guy asking has no teeth left. His gums have turned grey and his eyes have turned cold. You press yourself against the walls, well aware of the small sum of money that’s hidden in your pocket. The captain of this ship pays fairly, even though it’s never enough for the amount of work, never enough for the rising prices.

“Hands of my girl!” Kisame snarls from behind you, teeth bared. The threat is effective.

He guides you down the dock and up the streets, through the market where you buy a loaf of discounted bread and a few small fish. It eats up most of your earnings, but Kisame’s hand is warm around yours, his grip strong and self-assured. Everything will be okay.

- - -

The rich women of Kirigakure love their luxuries. Expensive dresses, expensive food, and, most importantly, cosmetics made from the finest ingredients.

It had been Kisame’s idea to get you into a pharmacy family when you didn’t show any signs of talent for the Shinobi traits. 

You’re good at this kind of work, and it pays well. Well, enough to feed Kisame and you. If he keeps rising in the ranks like this, making more and more with each mission, there might be something like a future for the two of you. If he thinks like that of you, that is?

-

You’ve barely turned sixteen when he steals you from your bedroom one night, whisks you out of the village in a heartbeat. He’s gotten taller, broader in the shoulders, wears a proud smirk even when there’s nothing to be proud about - you’ve heard about the Chunin Exams. “Where are we going?” You ask, breathless. He’s too handsome for his own good, his light can’t be dimmed by neither nightfall nor mist.

“To the water.” He urges until you hit the shore, freezing cold water running over your toes.

“What’s going on?” You ask, hand curling around his. You don’t want him to let go. But he does.

“Nothing,” he insists, looking up at the stars, “I just can’t breathe properly in the village. I need to be out of that damned mist.”

You laugh. “You’re lying. Something’s up.”

He grins at that. “Fine, you caught me. I got promoted.”

“Really?!” You press your hands to your lips before they can do foolish things, like take a hold of him.

“Really! I’m working directly under Fuguki! If everything goes well, I might be a member of the Seven Swordsmen too, soon.”

“And then?” You ask, regretting the words the moment they spill from your lips.

“What do you mean?” Confusion draws over his face like clouds over the moon. 

“I-I mean, I… what do you plan to do… when you reach that?”

“Well, be rich and famous, I guess.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how much they’re paid per mission, but I guess if I saved a little, it wouldn’t be too hard to buy a house. You could come by and cook for me then.”

Something cold and uncomfortable wedges itself into your heart. Your lips move on their own again.

“Wouldn’t I live with you then?” 

You’re painfully reminded that Kisame is a Shinobi. He freezes, face completely still, but you know his mind is running a mile a minute just by the way he fixates on you. That’s how he used to look at the fishermen, trying to figure out who to avoid and who to trust.

You know he’s figured you out when he speaks up.

“Listen,” he says, “We’re friends. We grew up side by side, but if you want to have a husband and a little cozy house, I’m not the man for you.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you rush to say. It’s a lie. Kisame’s always been able to tell when you were lying, but this time he’s not calling you out on it. 

When he takes you back to your room shortly after, he does not look back when he leaves and you wonder if you’ll ever see him again. 

- - -

Kisame Hoshigaki is a name known by all and feared by many. 

They praise his loyalty, ready to slaughter all his comrades to keep the village safe. 

It’s been almost two years since that day at the shore so you’re a little surprised to find him in your bedroom once again.

“Hey,” you’ve learned to go along with his antics long ago, so don’t scream when you find him slumped over your bed late at night, the bandages around his arm an ugly shade of red.

“Hey.” He grinds out. “Long time no see.”

“Whose fault is that?” You ask, unable to keep yourself from being a little petty.

He does not apologize, not that you expected him to. 

“Did you get hurt?” You step up to him, hands reaching for the bandages. He moves away before you can reach him, his eyes boring holes into you.

“Why are you always nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask back. 

“You don’t owe me anything, okay? I kept you safe, but you kept me fed. We’re even.”

“I know Kisame,” you insist, voice softer than it probably needs to be, “I’m not doing this because I owe you.”

“Then why?”

Your hands clench and unclench next to you, your heart heavy in your chest. You don’t want to say it, but what good does it bring to keep it in when he already knows anyway?

“I love you,” the words hang heavy in the air, “Love cares. Just because.”

Kisame buries his face in your bedding at that, body stiff as a board. You give him a minute to gather himself, to leave or do something else, but he doesn’t. When you reach for the bandages this time, he lets you.

When it’s time for you to sleep, he still hasn’t moved. Gingerly, you slip into bed next to him. He rolls a bit to the side so you can properly get under your blanket, face blank of any emotion. But his good arm comes out to pull you close as soon as you’re under the blanket. 

Kisame doesn’t apologize nor does he address the topic at hand. But you should have known that that’s not something he would do.

- - -

The sky is clear for once, the ever present mist retreating from the shore.

The sand is cold underneath you, but you’re not willing to budge. 

Something’s bothering Kisame, enough to drag you here. His knee is pressed against yours, the only form of touch he allows outside of the walls of your bedroom. His skin is warm and reassuring even though his silence is not.

“Do you ever feel stuck in place?” He asks suddenly, his voice barely above louder than the waves crashing.

“Sometimes,” you admit. “But I guess for different reasons than you.”

“What are yours?”

“There’s this guy I love and I guess he likes me too,” his lips quirk up, just a little, “but he won’t allow it to be official. So we have to hide in my bedroom when all I want is to hold his hand and make him breakfast and lunch and dinner.” You rest your head on your knees and look out onto the water, “What are your reasons?”

“There’s this girl that I love,” he admits, voice barely quivering at the last word. You force yourself not to look at him, but your knee presses harder against his. “And I want to give her a life that she deserves, a life that she had growing up. Where there’s food on the table everyday and she doesn’t have to worry that I won’t come home one day. Where our kids won’t have to fight for their life and people are honest to each other.”

“But?”

He sighs. 

“But I fear we can’t have that life in Kirigakure.”

You swallow against the tears that are threatening to fall.

The waves keep crashing, like they’re stuck too, forced to come in again and again and again.

“Lonely water,” you sigh out the prayer your mother tought you, “Lonely water, won't you let us wander? Let us hold each other.”

Strong arms pull you in until your head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat loud and steady in your ear.

“Will you leave with me?” Kisame whispers into your ear.

You listen to his heartbeat that’s as steadfast as the waves and close your eyes.

“Yes.”

[veeluvss]

needed.

jj x daughter!reader

projecting my mummy issues

>1k words

JJ pulled up outside the school gates and walked in with haste. As soon as the school rang, telling her that you was sick, she got into the car from work. Emily advised her to take the rest of the day off to care for you and she agreed that was the best idea.

“Oh love,” she pouted, walking into the nurse's office and seeing you curled up in the chair. You sighed and sat up, letting your heavy arms drop to your side.

“I’ve given her some medicine which should help but I think she just needs rest,” the nurse informed JJ, handing her a letter outlining what was given, when and why. JJ nodded, thanking her and then took your hand.

“Let’s get you home.”

Sitting in the passenger seat, you could feel yourself getting warmer and warmer and feeling more and more poorly.

“You not going to work?” you asked your mum softly, croaking out the few words.

“No baby, I’m going to look after you,” she said gently, moving some wet hair from your forehead and shooting you a worried look.

“I’m fine Mum,” you replied, instinctively.

“Yeah yeah baby,” she chuckled, knowing you’d insist you were absolutely fine. At sixteen years old, you never needed your mum anymore, or at least you claimed that. You were a strong independent person now and you could battle the world like the shining star you are. Yet on days like this, all you wanted to do was crawl into their comforting arms, embrace her love and never, ever let it go.

You lay across the sofa, shivering under blankets. JJ left you for a few minutes to get changed out of her work clothes. She’d already helped you change into your comfy clothes and had settled you on the sofa with the tv remote yet you had no effort whatsoever to put anything on. You felt emotional, over-tired and weak and you began to cry. Slow tears slipped down your cheeks and you couldn’t wipe the away, letting them fall into the duct of your ears. You sighed. You hated being sick, it made you feel vulnerable. All you wanted was your mum.

“Okay sweet girl,” your mum said, heading into the living room. “I brought more blankets and Mr Flopsy,” she said, holding up a small grey bunny you’d had since you were a baby. “Oh,” she muttered gently, noticing you crying. She sat beside you, moving more hair from your face and wiping your tears with the back of her hand.

“Why the tears, my love?” she asked gently.

“Need you,” you whimpered, feeling small and as if your mum could make all your problems disappear with the wave of her magic wand.

“I’m here,” she whispered gently. She turned out the big light and slid in behind you on the sofa, wrapping her arm securely around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. She began playing with the remote and put Hairspray on - your all-time favourite movie - before pulling more blankets around you.

You held Mr Flopsy close to your face, running his fluffy ear down your nose as you did when you were a child. Curled in your mum's arms with a comfort movie on and your favourite thing was the best feeling in the world. Although you were sick, it didn’t matter because you were loved by the one woman who would forever love you unconditionally.

[threepandas]

Sun Burnt: Part 3

When a legendary hitman Eye Threatens to break both your fucking legs?

They Are Not Joking.

FUCKING OW.

Still! Jokes on HIM! I'm in to that sh-! Wait, no, not the time for memes! Or is it jokes? Irrelevant! I can still fuckin RUN, is the thing. Sucks to SUCK, Sun boy! Us Lightnings are BUILT DIFFERENT!

And I BETTER not hear any snide "yeah I BET they are" from the peanut gallery!

My Flame type ROCKS! I am a TAZER who can put my fist through WALLS. Stand dead center of a road and just? Fuckin TANK a speeding car! Can YOU? Didn't THINK so! Lightning supremacy! One of you fuckers gimme a highfive! HELL YEAH!

But also? Like... I take back EVERYTHING I ever said about the Carcassa.

ALL OF IT.

They are the GEMS of the Mafia. The SHINING HEARTS of raw compassion! Skull-sama's willingness to PERSONALLY piss off The "I AM The Dread God Lesser Deity's Fear" Reborn? An inspiration to us all. I... I would steal for this man. Like? For FREE. Not DIE for him or anything, God no, but? I would steal really REALLY expensive shit for him!

The man's an absolute mad lad. A LEGEND.

I will NEVER forget this... assuming I survive.

Because somehow HE already has my name, face, and multiple alias plastered OUT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. Ha ha... oh god. Thaaaaat is a bounty. BIG bounty. Lots of zeros. G...gonna die.

My phone chimes.

"You know exactly who this is. Pick up." The screen reads, right before it rings.

HA HA, NOPE!

I stand, well more like shoot to my feet, from my seat on the ground. Quuuuick steps too the blimp windows. Wrench those open. Sim card out! Crush the phone. AND YEET!!! BeGONE DEMOOOON!

We shall NOT be engaging with The Devil today! No Sir!

.....Skull's phone starts ringing.

I whine like a cornered animal. So... this is what a real life horror movie feels like. NEAT. I hate it! I watch, probably shaking, as Skull-sama casually drags out his phone. Glances down at it. Then over his shoulder at me. He doesn't even fully turn his head. Just one Cloud flame purple eye that seems to light up from within.

He's a happy go lucky guy. Cool dude. But like all Clouds? Fucking HATES cages. Being or SEEING other imprisoned. Trapped. Cornered and forced to do something against their will. And as the planet's STRONGEST Cloud?

He's always had exactly zero problems telling Reborn to fuck off to his face. Even when it gets him shot at. Everyone knew that.

"Sempai! Calling the GREAT Skull De Mort just to CHAT~♡? I KNEW you loved me BESTEST!" He PROJECTS into the phone, his speaking cadence shifting.

He'd been gregarious, bombastic even, the whole time I'd been on board. The sort of guy you can't help but want to buy street food with and check out some weird local sight you heard about. The guy that turns an event into a PARTY. A get together into a memory you TREASURE. Larger then life and unashamedly so.

But this? THIS was the SHOWMAN.

And this was the Showman being Obnoxious and MEAN.

Loud, intentionally grating voice. No break in the endless flood of mind numbing chatter that went no where. Bellowing cackling that even the best of speakers would be hard pressed to handle. Standing near machines and windows so the background noise garbled EVERYTHING.

Let no one say Clouds are not PETTY.

"Hmmmmm~? Your WHAT? Sempai! Don't be SILLY! You can't OWN people! That's SLAVERY! It's against~...!" He turned, leaning like a rock star of old against some navigation compartment. Casually examining his nails with a MEAN and wolfish smile on his face. "Waaaaa! Don't be maaad~ Don't be MAAAAAD~!! You know I'd NEVER lie to YOU, Sempai! I'd never DARE! I promise I'll keep a look out, m'kay? What? Don't hang up? Sorry! Can-KRRRRSHK! n't quite KKKKKRRRRRSK! Heeeeear yoooouuuuu~☆!"

Click.

He casually tossed his phone to one of his men. Ignored it even as it rang and rang. With an excited clap of his hand, he hopped up, out of his loose legged splay to stride over. According to him? We should eat! Have I had Burmese food? It's delicious! One of his guys just got "into" the whole cooking thing! So everyone is being supportive!

I can't help but laugh. Everyone politely ignores how wet it is, as Skull-sama throws an arm over my shoulders and drags me from the cockpit.

I know I'm not safe. But for now? Fuck it. Good enough. Maybe Skull-sama knows someplace Reborn might not IMMEDIATELY find me. And who knows? When this all blows over? Maybe I should join up with his crew. Reborn can't be THAT obsessed. Right? It was just the initial harmony high. With no Sky to actually bind us, he'll lose interest.

Behind me... the phone rings.

And rings.

And RINGS.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Okay so, more Lunarian + transfem!Sanji because she's too good. Too good oh my god. Okay.

So my thought was after the Summit War where Ace is saved because Yamato is there and meets Ivankov and gets his dream body from the horm-horm fruit and they join the strawhat pirates and Yamato is "kidnapped" by Germa and the Big Mom pirates and he goes willingly because he wants to beat the SHIT out of the Sanji's birth family because they deserve it. Until they stick cuffs on him that are going to blow him up with cuffs. Which happens to him for the second time in his life which isn't great and Ace is going to be so pissed at him, as well as Law who doesn't know they're going to also save his little sister who these people keep calling a boy which is wrong. It's so wrong. Yamato tells them off multiple times and that he's not going to marry this sixteen year old either. That's weird and gross. Sure, he might be Kaido's son but he left Wano with the guy who became his boyfriend. Also he already went through the whole Summit War and his boyfriend who almost died. They're going to come get him, like that's going to happen and these people will get fucked over. He says all that to them very plainly.

And when he is rescued and Judge is asking about Sanji and shit talking his baby sister, Yamato is so down to kill this fucking guy despite the others not knowing who she is. Judge is still being a misgendering prick and calls Sanji a boy again and Yamato yells to stop calling his little sister a piece of shit and the man who raised her is better than him. He crosses his arms and thanks the rescue team because he knows Ace is going to be upset with him but also so is Sanji and when they ask where his little sister is he's like 'Wano, that's why Ace and I were excited to go.' and then he thinks about it and is like 'Oh, she's going to be very upset with me.' then promptly forgets about that when sees Ace and Otama again in Wano. No one says anything about Sanji to anyone else because they don't think anything of it really until they see a winged woman land from the sky and toss a bag of fruit down to almost everyone's confusion, even after she leaves and when everyone starts asking them questions and Ace and Yamato explain. Yamato explains that is his little sister who gave up her freedom and hands in exchange for Yamato's which allowed him to leave with Ace his first time to Wano. Law is glaring at them when he says that because that wasn't mentioned at all.

Sanji during the fight with Queen awakening her full Lunarian genes and her hair turning as white as Yamato's and the fire enveloping her blazing hot as she smiles wickedly at Queen and says she's been waiting for this moment for a very long time. She fucking hates Queen and how he's treated her for her life in Wano and she's going to fucking kill him. When Sanji is done and running to meet up with other to help those she catches Law and Zoro randomly when she feels the weight on her shoulders and she and Law are staring at each other in shock because her hair is a different color and he just showed up with some guy she doesn't really know. Law asks her to get him treated and she agrees with confusion and when Zoro asks if he's a ham to her and Sanji studies him and says he's not that appetizing and Zoro asks what the hell happened to her and Sanji just smirks and says she became a real monster to his confusion as she carries him out to safety. She is of course confused by Zoro's sleep talking as she drops him off and rejoins the fight, flying with a fire burning so hot it's worrisome that it might burn down Onagashima. It's a whole thing. Her awakened genes make her fly faster and look like a shooting star through the castle. It's rather alarming after the fight is said and Yamato and Ace see her. Sanji is smiling and laughing with them freely since what happened during the raid.

She's free and Yamato is running his hands through her now white hair and over the black wings with Ace and they're telling her about how they got together and about the war and Ivankov. Apologizing for worrying her and Ace dying and Sanji does give him a good tongue lashing for it. Says he's lucky he didn't fight her father because King found her after the vivre card burned up and she had been sobbing a good while and was despondent for days. It was a quite a problem for her but then she hears about Yamato getting taken by Germa and just sighs so long and loud. Like it's a whole minute of just exasperation but Yamato does say they can get her body fixed. It could be her body and she says she'll think about it, she won't make any promises about leaving. Yamato is definitely the older brother who leans on his little sister despite the massive height difference between them, he ties the obi for her kimono and smiles as runs his hands through the feathers of her wings and preens them. Yamato also pulls her bangs up and shows off her eyes to the crew at different points because look how cool his little sister is! That eye is from her mom and that one is from her dad, not Judge, King the Wildfire! It's a very important distinction that needs to be made.

When King does pledge his loyalty to Momonosuke and Wano and is catching up with Yamato and is looking at Ace who is shrinking under the glowing red eyes of the twenty foot father of the girl he made cry by making him think he and her brother who happens to be his boyfriend died for years. He swallows and bows deeply and apologizes for hurting his daughter. King sighs and forgives him because it's not necessarily his fault that he died, but if he does it again or lets anything happen to his daughter there will be consequences. Sanji is just gesturing at them and asking what the fuck is going on as King says she's joining the crew and to get the fuck out of Wano and be free. It's her turn to find her dream and start thinking about herself now that they aren't prisoners. His mask has been off since he came back and he's very intimidating but Sanji grew up with him and they are immune to each other. Her childish pout gets her nowhere with him despite it being one of the cutest things in the world to Yamato. It will make Yamato weak every time especially if she gives him a slight pout with slightly begging eyes. He folds, he constantly folds, he's like a house of cards to her, it's so bad. Of course, it's a problem because she uses him as the pack mule at every island they resupply at and Yamato does snarl and glare at anyone who makes advances on his sister. Not that she knows what's going on because she's never been flirted with thanks to her being King's daughter and off limits to all of Wano.