#u make my bitching so much easier. bless

[cx-boxbox]

I’ve been asking ppl cus im a nosy bitch. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length — wiz

Well… I usually just make a doc when I find inspiration, and if I’m not seated at my computer, I’ll do it on my phone, even if I’m walking somewhere. I need to use Times New Roman, 12pt, 1.15 space with a 15pt gap after each paragraph. It’s really specific, I know, but it just looks the best to me and the spacing is the most accurate to how it looks on Ao3 so!

My preferred device is my computer, but I’ll write on my phone if I have to. When I’m on a plane, I’ll definitely write on my phone. It helps pass the time, but sometimes I’ll look back at what I wrote and go “wtf did I just write”. Any other time, I’ll try to be on my computer because it’s just easier to type as fast as I come up with the words. As for my preferred time, it’s usually late at night lmao… I’ll be writing, check the time, and then promptly close my computer to go take a shower. I wish my preferred time was not that time, but inspiration strikes when inspiration strikes.

I write a draft and sometimes it’ll be disjointed scenes that I connect terribly (this meme describes it pretty accurately). And then I try smoothing the bridges as well as I can, catching errors or whatever when I reread it. And then I do my final checking on Ao3 because I use rich text and it does some weird thing to my fics where they add spaces before and after italics when there’s punctuation right next to it? So I just hit preview and then whenI go back into edit, all the weird spaces are there for me to get rid of. That’s also when I try to catch as many mistakes as I can right before posting.

I highly recommend other writers do the same, if only so they can feel the best about their own fics without any pesky spaces.

Usually, I’ll try to see a fic to the end (my many wips are laughing at me as I write this) and sometimes plotty things are easier to write than back-to-back-to-back porn, which is why I embarked on this landoscar side quest… only to write more back-to-back-to-back porn.

I think that’s all I really have to say. @wisteriagoesvroom you’re a blessing and I’d love to hear you yap about your writing process too!! 💜💜💜

[zestrya]

just finished reading tokyo revengers and boy oh boy.

mild spoilers ahead:

first of all, mikey is so bitchy, goddammit bro, just accept their help. i cried everytime he would insist on pushing takemichi and the others away, like bro, okay, ur curse's strong n all, but what's wrong with at least talking with them damn it! u fucked ur best friend face and ur brother died, but that's all the more reason to look for someone to lean on. he knew takemichi would try to help him no matter if he said what was happening or not, so couldn't he at least make it easier by opening the game with him.

his mentality about strong is all fucked up, for real, before he goes on about his life, he should seriously look for a therapist.

n let's not forget about shinichiro, honestly, just a pitiful guy out there who's a little messed up in the head, I'm just wondering how he didn't get worse than he already was, after watching so many people die and even killing someone with his own hands just to try and save his brother and the people he loves, honestly, he's another self sacrificing guy just like takemichi, just with a few more screws loose. didn't have to suffer through all that, tbh, but without him the story wouldn't even exist.

then.... sanzu, dude, i prefer to not talk about, so I'll just say: therapy, it's good for the mental health. a sob story indeed, but fuuck, i wouldn't go anywhere near this guy if i saw him with any sort of cutting weapon in hands. actually, scratch that, I'd NEVER take a step into this guy field of vision. he's hot tho.

the shiba siblings... I'll just pass as: taiju is one hell of a crazy fucker. bless.

koko, dead people don't return and u shouldn't be giving the cold shoulder to your friend like that. honestly, i cried so much at inupi fight at the end, he's such a baby, he didn't deserve all that, neither of them.

kazutora..................... our local psycho. damn, i don't know what to say about him, dude gave me such a huge impression, but i think that's just me liking freaks with droopy eyes. seriously tho, he was one of those that got caught in mikey's karma like a bitch, besides, how tf do you even kill someone a shift the blame to someone who's, like, never asked for you to steal nothing.

baji got swept under the rug so many times i don't even know what to expect anymore, he's so fucked up i honestly pity him a little, still, even when he's one of the characters i wasn't particularly fond of, he's one of the quirkiest among the founders bunch, and definitely, hes not easy to forget since chifuyu makes sure to remember about him every damn time.

and chifuyu to close, for now at least, basically he's a simp. jk, man, was he one of the characters that evolved as the story went on, i got a little pissed at his attitude sometimes, but he's the man to get your back, too bad his spotlight on the last fight wasn't too big, but i like that we can see how much he takes after takemichi, never giving up as long as there's someone who's still standing, in this case, our precious time leaper. he's definitely the right choice to be narrating the last chapter.

and just remembering all that I'm crying all over again, definitely it wasn't something I'll regret reading, and will probably be rereading after some time, it won't be the same feeling, maybe i won't even like it as much, but i can't deny that i got attached.

I'll be finishing this one by here, maybe i'll do another going step by step on my fav characters, but for now all i will say is.

the finish may have been lazy or forced? maybe, but i wouldn't have it any other way. for our crybaby protagonist and his legion of gangster i wouldn't anything more than the happiest ending, even to the more lunatic ones yes taiju/sanzu, i'm looking at you. they already suffered enough, they paid their prices, so at least that ending was a moment of respite to then.

i almost forgot, but what the heck where the first gen even doing in the middle of the kids fight? like.... wakasa and benkei, aren't you even ashamed????? you guys retired years ago. dude, the fight left them, but they haven't left the fight it seems.

[just-some-random-blogger]

meow meow, angel! good morning! love time for good heath! 'understanding chavs that go innit is gauge of big brained-ness for you ??' why can't i be amazed by something i can't do so it seems cool to me?? i say you're big brained for literally anything WHY not this?? i just wanted to remind you of how wonderful you are TT can't i love you?? can't i say you're cool???? WE CAN BE MUTUALS!' i do absolutely NOTHING in the internet so is this a thing?? idk anything about this concept tbh TT but ig you could discover my account pretty easily, if you'd want to. (not saying anything. just a thought that popped out in my mind) 'aren’t we already' idk i was asking you? i consider you my MASTER what are we talking abt TT no but really ig we are? hope we are. luv u 'for how would i know' i'm literally reading your fics and sending asks abt hotd TT not like you should have known. i just answered you TT 'they’re all problematic' YEAH hdjsks it's kinda ridiculous how people fight so vigorously to prove their fav is the most innocent among the problematic culprits(?) they are all unholy and we're trying to find the jesus TT characters are characters. it's fiction. we all should take it easier. 'people that are taller than me inspire my rage even more' do i insire your rage??? 'you think your safe' NO i don't, i can crash into this very celling TT 'you really are my #0 fan' im not the one to joke around you know meow meow 'sometimes i dont think i write it well enough' oh nono it's just fine! you trick with my heart enough! ok now i feel stupid for wanting to comfort you... like the real little sister who just doesn't understand the elder's problems... you took away my 'mom friend' role and i'm frustrated... just don't forget you're vvveryvery talented and bigbig brained. love you my talented angel!! ok so i've been listening to a witch themed playlist on youtube and now i feel sososoooo like daemon x witch!reader? like him not being able to win some stupid war so he goes to a witch in the woods to ask for protection? blessing? and she's like ok but i can only make such magic for a person i have the strongest bond with. like a husband yk? daemon is like you bitch better give me this spell rn and reader shrugs her shoulders can do nothing for you then. after being a sulky prick and being almost defeated he comes back saying make your magic sorceress i'll have been your husband by tomorrow's evening. in the moment she does the ritual/potion/curse, he thinks she'd bewitched him and confronts her after. turns out she just wanted to make herself more powerful bc being a princess and a handsome man's wife? why not. that's the price. so now he needs to bewitch a witch to live happily after his victory. no but this thought made me so disappointed. i always see fics with a vulnerable and such innocent reader (not accusing any author, you can write whatever you want, and it's absolutely ok to be the one, just my personal feelings). that moment i was reading yandere!aemond fic and reader was so terrified and like... silly... srry. but have they ever thought about adaption?.. yes it's terrifying but you have a man that is willing to do anything if you so much as look at him sweetly? he kills anyone who bothers him but you're still alive? and you choose to hide and annoy him even more?? giiirl you can tell him someone you don't like touched you and have him killed. you can kiss his cheek and have the iron throne under your pretty ass. why (in this fictional reality ofc) do they always choose to be naive and try to escape for nothing instead of manipulating this manipulative prick with obsession? you have no choice either way so why risk so much? you either die or adapt. plain biology. srry it's so long but this thought was bothering me for a while. not to offend smn, just my own impression. maybe my trust issues and fear of being vulnerable. maybe. i'm not the most mentally healthy. so i'd like to know what do you think. about this (again TT) fictional problems. irl it's not even a question bc.. yeah?? take care! love you! <з have a nice day lovie!!

heelloooo lovie!!!! <3 <3 (((((((((:

love letta toime <3

meow meow, angel! good morning! love time for good heath!

good morning too? ig idk what time you read my letters now that i think of it hahahahh (It BEtttter not be in the late hours of night 😡)

'understanding chavs that go innit is gauge of big brained-ness for you ??' why can't i be amazed by something i can't do so it seems cool to me?? i say you're big brained for literally anything WHY not this?? i just wanted to remind you of how wonderful you are TT can't i love you?? can't i say you're cool????

ok ok youre so right that was so stale cinnamon roll of me im sorry 😞 youre right you can be amazed by things that seem cool to you and you should always feel that way. it was just surprising/odd to me so ///: now i feel like a old soulless man T_T ewww BEGONE

WE CAN BE MUTUALS!' i do absolutely NOTHING in the internet so is this a thing?? idk anything about this concept tbh TT but ig you could discover my account pretty easily, if you'd want to. (not saying anything. just a thought that popped out in my mind)

lol i think i already your account but i decided not to say anything about it (all will continue to do so) because youre on anon for a reason and i respect that. its fine that you dont do anything (a gross exaggeration considering you send me letters everyday) you we dont have to be mutuals if you dont want to. i'll always be here on my small side of the internet

'aren’t we already' idk i was asking you? i consider you my MASTER what are we talking abt TT no but really ig we are? hope we are. luv u

daMB masTER? T_T my child you are not subservient to me. we are equals. we are friends T_T i have decided

'for how would i know' i'm literally reading your fics and sending asks abt hotd TT not like you should have known. i just answered you TT

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH OK YOURE SO RIGHT YOU CAUGHT ME THERE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHHAHH

imma show myself out hahahaAHHAHAHA

'they’re all problematic' YEAH hdjsks it's kinda ridiculous how people fight so vigorously to prove their fav is the most innocent among the problematic culprits(?) they are all unholy and we're trying to find the jesus TT characters are characters. it's fiction. we all should take it easier.

so true, so real, im so 😬🙄 girl its not that deep

'people that are taller than me inspire my rage even more' do i insire your rage??? 'you think your safe' NO i don't, i can crash into this very celling TT

you dont actually inspire my rage because i have not seen you face to face lol. you dont have to crash into the ceiling, youre safe... for now

'you really are my #0 fan' im not the one to joke around you know meow meow

[gives you some kibble]

'sometimes i dont think i write it well enough' oh nono it's just fine! you trick with my heart enough! ok now i feel stupid for wanting to comfort you... like the real little sister who just doesn't understand the elder's problems... you took away my 'mom friend' role and i'm frustrated... just don't forget you're vvveryvery talented and bigbig brained. love you my talented angel!!

thank you. i appreciate your efforts of comfort. you can mother me still even though im your mom HAHAH again im honored that you have such a high regard for me <3 i mean it. thank you my love. i love you. i learn from my little sister irl so i can 100% learn from you too <3 dont feel stupid. dont feel frustrated. i hear you <3 and i am glad for it.

ok so i've been listening to a witch themed playlist on youtube and now i feel sososoooo like daemon x witch!reader? like him not being able to win some stupid war so he goes to a witch in the woods to ask for protection? blessing?

BONK 🤠 WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN

and she's like ok but i can only make such magic for a person i have the strongest bond with. like a husband yk? daemon is like you bitch better give me this spell rn and reader shrugs her shoulders can do nothing for you then. after being a sulky prick and being almost defeated he comes back saying make your magic sorceress i'll have been your husband by tomorrow's evening.

[shaking] WRITE THAT DOWNW DWRITE THAT DOWNE!

in the moment she does the ritual/potion/curse, he thinks she'd bewitched him and confronts her after. turns out she just wanted to make herself more powerful bc being a princess and a handsome man's wife? why not. that's the price. so now he needs to bewitch a witch to live happily after his victory. no but this thought made me so disappointed.

i always see fics with a vulnerable and such innocent reader (not accusing any author, you can write whatever you want, and it's absolutely ok to be the one, just my personal feelings).

NO BUT SO TRUE! as much as possible, i try to write strong readers cos i aint no naive girl i have a mind and strength. even in times where i want to make her meek, i cannot bring myself to make her have 'naive' qualities. i love your story so much i might just give it an express ticket pass T_T

that moment i was reading yandere!aemond fic and reader was so terrified and like... silly... srry. but have they ever thought about adaption?.. yes it's terrifying but you have a man that is willing to do anything if you so much as look at him sweetly? he kills anyone who bothers him but you're still alive? and you choose to hide and annoy him even more??

T_T the patriarchal values so imbedded. i mean to each their own. i will say if you're really in that position, growing up in that era where women were oppressed and you're faced with a 'grotesque' prince that is trained with the sword, sure being terrified of him is not far fetched, but it's human nature to fight back i think. annoying your captor AHHAHAH honestly HAHAHHAHHHA i mean it could be a power move if done correctly HAHAHHAH. we should give women more credit though

giiirl you can tell him someone you don't like touched you and have him killed. you can kiss his cheek and have the iron throne under your pretty ass. why (in this fictional reality ofc) do they always choose to be naive and try to escape for nothing instead of manipulating this manipulative prick with obsession?

GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS. youre so right. maybe YOU should write that. i will say though, people try to escape because the thought of being captured/kept against your will is not nice. no one wants to be a prisoner/slave. that's why i would think its hard to manipulate someone in any case.

you have no choice either way so why risk so much? you either die or adapt. plain biology. srry it's so long but this thought was bothering me for a while. not to offend smn, just my own impression. maybe my trust issues and fear of being vulnerable. maybe. i'm not the most mentally healthy. so i'd like to know what do you think. about this (again TT) fictional problems. irl it's not even a question bc.. yeah??

so true, you should learn how to adapt to survive. but i will say, part of the reason why i became a writer was because i disagreed/didn't like the plot points of the fics i was reading so maybe you should try it!!!!! id love to read them if you do <3. im glad to hear about anything you want to tell me my love <3, especially since we are so similiar in personality

take care! love you! <з have a nice day lovie!!

love you baby <3

xxx

[contrispos]

Episode 12 - Rescue on Ryloth

[Star Wars: The Bad Batch]

Okay, so I know this is very late but I’ve been up to a lot of stuff, but here it is!!!

—

RAMPFUCK

HOWSER😘😘😘

i hate rampass with my entire being

YES TELL EM ELENI

BOSS ASS BITCH.COM

I love Howser

I HATE RAMPASS

CROSSHAIR IS COMING AND I KNOW IT

CHOPPER!!!!!!!!

THAT is my man crisscross

Crosshair, arr you suggesting you won’t leave without your brothers right now??? IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE SAYING

THE BATCH

GONKY

GONKY IS A DEFECTIVE UNIT

I LOVE IT

I LOVE THAT THE BATCH NAMED THEIR GNK DROID GONKY BTW

ITS MY FAVORITE THING IN THE ENTIRE WORLD

HOLY SHIT ITS TECH

MY BABYYYYYYY

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

YEA DONT WORRY GONKY THEY ARE DEFECTIVE TOO

ITS SO CUTE I CANT

TECH MY BABY

I HAVE MISSED YOU DEAR

IS THIS TECH BEING A DAD

IS TECH WORRIED ABOUT THE MISSION

MY GOD HES BEAUTIFUL

yeah baby tell him

omega is the fucking best did you know that?

damn tech stop flying so fast u gonna die brother

MY CHILDREN ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

omg I fucking love chopper

HOLD UP

WE ARE GETTING TECH AND CHOPPER TOGETHER IN THE SAME SCENE

THE DOPPELGÄNGERS ARE UNITED

this post btw

AH the little shoulder grab my heart

awwwwee tech is so excited

why so cold hunter? ya need a blanket or something

how exactly did free ta survive a shot to THE FUCKING HEAD BUT FIVES DIDNT SURVIVE A SHOT THROUGH ARMOR

🎶four bros, chillin on a mountain, zero feet apart cuz they’re not actually gay just very close brothers who fight battles together and are like a family🎶

oooooooh another face off?????

why do i love the hand signs?

WHY DID WE NOT GET TO SEE MY BEAUTIFUL BABY TECH?????

shit

that’s a probe isn’t it

hunter is gonna save the day:)

bonk

stabby stab

oh tech my darling boy, please do a stand up show

crisscross is comin for ya!!

OH

MY

GOD

TECH AND CHOPPER ARE WORKING TOGETHER ON THE SHIP!!!!!!

WHY IS THIS THE CUTEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN??????

WHY IS DAVE DOING THIS TO ME?????

hunter is a little(very tall) bitch

HUHHHHHHHH

OMYFUCKINGGODTHATISTHECUTESTTHINGIHAVEEVERSEENORHEARDINMYENTIRELIFE

OMEGA LITERALLY JUST TOLD HUNTER SHE SEES THE BATCH AS HER FAMILY

I AM CRYING

HUNTERS FACE

wait are they just gonna leave omega there????

holy shit

wait

why are you bullying my child RAMPASS

HUH?

YOU WANNA FIGHT??!!

crosshairs scar is no easier to look at

my child is hurt!!!!

OMYFUCKINGGODTHEREMYHEARTGOESAGAINCANOMEGASTOPBEINGSOFUCKINGADORABLE

HE IS HER BROTHER🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THEY ALL ARE🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

CAN I CRY NOW? WILL YOU ALLOW ME TO CRY??????

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

OOOFFFF omega i love you

howser is baby

HOWSER IS DEFECTIVE I KNEW IT

AHHHHHHH

I CANT

I LOVE CHOPPER SO MUCH

I LOVE THE BAD BATCH SO MUCH

YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL STATE I AM IN RIGHT NOW

OMG TECH IS BEING A DAD

HE IS BEING A DAD

I REPEAT

TECH IS BEING A DAD

HE HAS DAD ENERGY

HE IS PROTECTIVE

HOLY FUCK I COULD GO ON ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE DAD!TECH FOR HOURS

SSHHHIIIIIEEEEETTTTT

CHOPPER MY CHILD YOU ARE SO SMART I LOVE YOU

CHOPPER SUPREMACY YESTERDAY PLEASE

I CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I LOVE IT WHEN CHOPPER HAS HIS LITTLE ROBOT ARMS OUT

“a little help?” echo, fives is very proud of you right now

“i won’t tell if you don’t” holy fuck i live my children

WAIT

ARE WE ABOUT TO WITNESS HERAS FIRST TIME AS A REAL PILOT??????

OMG GUYS THIS IS A LEGENDARY EVENT RIGHT HERE

THIS MOMENT RIGHT HERE WILL CHANGE THE GALAXY FOREVER

TECH

HELLO DEAR

there is something about the fact that tech is talking about his rebels parallel character that just sits right with me

OH MY GOD

DID YOU HEAR THE SLIGHT PANIC IN TECHS VOICE

HE THOUGHT OMEGA WAS GOING TO FLY THE SHUTTLE WITHOUT ANY TRAINING

MY BABY

WHY DID HE SOUND SO MUCH LIKE A DAD

HE WAS SO DAD-LIKE IN THE WAY HE SAID OMEGA

OH MY GOD THIS RIGHT HERE IN MY FAVORITE SCENE IN THE ENTIRE STAR WARS FRANCHISE

TECH IS SO FUCKING GOOD AT FLYING AND I LOVE IT

HOW IS HE DOING THAT

AH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

LIKE I AM ASEXUAL BUT LIKE THAT IS SEXY AF

TECH

I AM NO LONGER ASKING

I DEMAND YOU PUT YOUR COMEDY SHOW ON THE ROAD

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD TECH IS GORGEOUS

AH

MY HEART

MY EYES ARE BLESSED

DONT GO THAT WAY HUNTER

YA GONNA DIE

hunter so knows that howsers chip is dead

OH MY GOD

TECH IS SO FUCKING GORGEOUS

I—

I CANT

HE IS SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL

oh no

stop

omg

regular clones breaking orders??

THIS IS WHAT IM HERE FOR!!!!!!

YES HOWSER

BUT LIKE GET THE HELL OUTTA THERE CAUSE YOURE ABOUT TO DIE

WHY DOES CROSSHAIR MISS EVERY SINGLE SHOT???

IS IT HIM FIGHTING AGAINST THE CHIP TO NOT SHOOT HIS BROTHERS????

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME

WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME WATCH MY CHILDREN BEING SO SAD

A HIGH FIVE!!!!!!

OMEGA DID A LITTLE JUMP TOO

I CANT WITH THIS ADORABLENESS

ah- hunter resisting payment???? who’s this fella???

okay, let’s just break this down: hunter is breaking my heart with his fucking dad-of-the-group thing

wrecker is breaking my heart with his utterly confused look at what’s going on

omega is breaking my heart with her sheer cuteness

echo is healing me a bit by being the calm mom

BUT TECH IS FUCKING KILLING ME FIFTEEN TIMES IN THIS SHORT CLIP BECAUSE 1: HOW DARE HE BE SO DAD-Y TOWARDS OMEGA AND HERA AND 2: HOW DARE HE SMILE LIKE THAT??? HOW DARE HE BE SO GORGEOUS I LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE RIGHT NOW HE STARIGHT UP KNOCKED THE AIR FROM MY LUNGS HE IS SO GORGEOUS AND I WILL DIE IN LIKE TWO SECONDS IF NOT LESS

HERA AND OMEGA ARE LESBIANS

I LOVE HERA AND KANAN BUT LIKE OMEGA AND HERA ARE SO CUTE

“keep an eye on your brothers” I CANT I LITERALLY CANT LIKE HERA KILLED ME RIGHT HERE AND NOW AND ALSO HOW DARE THEY SHIFT THE FOCUS TO THE BATCH WHEN SHE SAYS THAT

okay but hera literally thinks that they are brothers in the sense of how i have brothers or how she would have brothers, like they are a little family who grew up together and the batch are omegas troublesome older brothers when in reality they are clones, i think that is realky beautiful and i am crying so hard right now

OKAY BUT TECHS LITTLE SMILE AS OMEGA WALKED UP TO THEM I—

ah shiet

OH MY GOD CROSSHAIRS FACE WHEN RAMPASS SAID THE BATCH ARE HIS FRIENDS

HE WANTS TO GO HOME

no

nope

nuh uh

i dont want this

but i really do want this tho

NOW THEY CAN GET HIS CHIP OUT AND HE CAN BE WITH HIS FAMILY AGAIN

okay but if that’s not the face of a scared little boy i don’t know what is

like!!!

look at that!!!

HE IS SO SCARED HE JUST WANTS TO GO HOME

DAVE JUST LET HIM GO HOME

okay but i really did not need this much in one episode but like now they might actually save crosshair soooo, that’s good:))))

[cotccotc]

I am in such a weird place regarding what you and these 9ther anons have mentioned and I have so many conflicting feeling sod I apologize ifnthis doesn't make much sense but I kinda wanna rant about how I feel on this matter so here I go

I have been so incredibly blessed as a creator on here to have amassed an incredibly kind and understanding following, I have literally never been pressured to release/post anything and I've only ever received 1 hate anon (which honestly read more like a troll than anything since all it said was "stfu bitch") so I've had no external pressure to post, and yet i still feel guilty when I don't lost. I see requests sitting in my inbox for months even though I DO plan to write them eventually and I feel so guilty, and while I've never considered deleting my blog/writings entirely I HAVE considered clearing my inbox but I never end up doing it because I really WANT to get through all the requests I have, especially the ones I'm super excited about, eventually

And the weird thing is that I've been posting WAY more than usual these past few weeks since I've felt super motivated to write out of nowhere, and yet I still feel guilty because I'm not working on what I feel like I should be. I'm writing a couple holiday fics which I feel like I should prioritize because I'm enjoying them and I've set a hard deadline for them for myself, but the task of completing them seems so huge because of how MABY there are so even though I know I'd enjoy writing the fics if I just DID IT it feels so overwhelming that I don't write as much for them as I want to. But I'm also trying to write some non-holiday fics but I feel like I'm either prioritizing those TOO MUCH over the fics with a deadline or not prioritizing them at all </3

I've basically created all this internal pressure and expectations for myself and my writing even though everyone externally has been so kind and understanding, and I have no clue how to fix it because even though i still greatly enjoy writing, these issues make me feel so upset and and SHOULDNT and I wish there were a way to just get rid of them :/

hi hi yes ty for joining the conversation !!! i definitely get what u mean when u say there’s no External pressure to post. it’s interesting how there rarely is for creators on here, yet the internal dilemma persists. and i ALSO 100% understand working a lot on projects ur not “supposed to” work on. a lot of the time when we make posting into a job or chore of sorts it’s easy to work on other things as an escape, esp since that’s what posting on here was intended to accomplish in the first place ! it’s definitely overwhelming but i think if we started to prioritize what we Want to create over what we feel like we “Have To” create it’ll be a lot easier. (which is def easier said than done but still)

also. THIS:

VERY VERY WELL SAID !!!!!! everyone uses the internet and tumblr specifically at their own pace, and should be ALLOWED TO DO SO !!!!!!

moral of the story is Just Do what u Can … When U Can lol

[imagineredwood]

Request:  Miguel fears his girlfriend will leave him because of what everyone says about him and the cartel (u know all the illegal stuff he has going on but hasn’t really shown that part to her yet)

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x reader 

Warnings: Talk of crime 

Word count: 1.6k

***Bitch i’m in a Miguel mood lately  👀 Or in other words the default @breanime​  mood ***

“Everything ok, Mikey?”

Miguel looked away from the view of mountains and over toward his best friend. Nestor wore a look on concern as he walked toward Miguel where he sat outside on the patio bench. Miguel forced a smile and nodded.

“I’m good.”

Nestor gave a nod of his own and came to sit down beside the cartel leader.

“Right. Now I’ll ask you again and then this time you can be honest.”

Miguel looked back over at Nestor to find the man smiling. Miguel couldn’t help but to do the same and shake his head. He looked back over the mountains and the smile slowly slipped off his face.

“I just don’t know what to with her.”

Miguel’s response was vague and anyone else may have been confused as to what it meant, but not Nestor. He was well aware of what Miguel was referring to.

“What do you think you should do?”

Miguel stayed quiet, thinking.

“I know I should let her see the truth. Let her know who I am and let her make her own choice instead of letting her lead a life of lies. That much I know. But,”

Shaking his head, Miguel tried to look for the words to put his thoughts together. Nestor, who sometimes knew him better than he knew himself, finished for him.

“But you worry that if you let her see the truth, she’ll run.”

Miguel didn’t need to tell Nestor that he was right.

“All of the shit that people say about me, my family, I know it gets to her. I just tell her that they’re jealous. That they’re upset about how I run my business. Imagine how she’ll feel if it comes to the surface when we’re already too deep? How is she going to trust me if I continue to build our relationship off of secrecy and half-truths?”

Miguel huffed and Nestor leaned over, placing his hand on the back of his best friend’s neck and squeezing gently.

“Then slowly introduce her to the truth. You’re doing good, Mikey. Day by day you’re going more legit. Be honest and show that you’re putting in the work to do things right. That will mean something to her.”

Miguel nodded and looked back over at Nestor, smiling once again.

“You always do know how to make me get my head out of my ass.”

It was Nestor’s turn to grin this time and he did, shrugging.

“What are friends for?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Hello, mi reina. You look beautiful.”

Your smile warmed his heart as you walked through the doorway, into his house. It was dim, the lights low, no natural light coming from the outside as it was already passed sundown. He was dressed down, or at least as dressed down as a man like Miguel could be. He was wearing plain black trousers and a white button-up, the top two buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“I thought you said casual?”

He smiled and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against yours as his arm snaked its way around your waist. He kissed your lips repeatedly before speaking softly against them.

“This is casual. I wanted you to be comfortable.”

Pulling away, he took your hand in his and spun you around slowly.

“Stunning.”

You chuckled as he released your hand and walked into his home while he locked up behind you. As soon as you took the first few steps in, you took a deep breath, your stomach growing.

“Mmm.”

Miguel was back by your side already, taking your hand back in his once again and grinning, leading you over into the kitchen.

“I figured I’d cook instead of us having to go out.”

You grinned as you looked over the pasta he had made, the aroma of olive oil and garlic throughout the kitchen. The timer on the stove began to beep and he looked over at you, grabbing one of the bright white plates he had laid out next to him.

“Just in time.”

While he served, you went over and shut off the timer, turning back to him placing one plate down and grabbing the other.

“Can you grab the wine, my love?”

You walked over to the wine cooler and picked out your favorite as well as two glasses from the rack before making your way back to where Miguel stood. As you got closer, he grabbed both plates of pasta and grinned.

“Let’s go eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Dinner was done, dishes and kitchen clean. Now you were sitting together, a new glass of wine in your hand as you watched the rain come down through the large windows. Miguel was sitting with you, a comfortable silence as he softly massaged your shoulder. Looking back at him, he seemed somewhat far away and you pouted, turning your body so you could face him instead of the window.

“You ok, Miguel?”

He smiled and nodded, leaning toward you to press a kiss to your forehead. You may not have been together for a long time, but you knew him well by now and you could tell he was lying. Turning your entire body to face him now, you gave a reassuring smile.

“You know you can tell me, right?”

At that, Miguel swallowed. He wanted nothing more than to continue being with you, to fall in love with you and create a life together, but he knew he was going to need trust for that. Lying to you and keeping the truth away wasn’t going to do help. With a sigh, he shook his head and looked back at you, a look of discomfort on his face.

“I worry that in time you’ll find that being with me isn’t what you want.”

You looked at him, blankly for a moment as you tried to figure out what he meant and where he was going with it. Feeling like he had dragged it on for long enough, Miguel cut the shit.

“Everything that people say, there’s truth to it. I know you know better than to think that I’m just some businessman who got lucky. I know you know what the story behind my family is, but you’ve never seen it. I do my best to keep it away from you. You hear the words, but you don’t see the dirt. You’ve never been touched by it. And I worry that when you finally are, this isn’t something that you’re going to want.”

He motioned between the two of you and the closeness you shared, shoes off and relaxed.

“I’d love to continue on this ride of oblivion and naivety, but the truth is that there’s a lot of dirty shit that is attached to my name and I need to know if you’re in for the long haul. I can see it on your face, the irritation, the uncertainty, the fear when you hear what people say. But it’s one thing to hear it and another to live it. I’ll understand if you leave, I will. I can see from where you stand that it isn’t something easy to deal with. But having you in my life has been a blessing. One I didn’t know if I was going to have once I took over the business after my father. And I want to know how long you plan on sticking around so we can plan and do this right before we both end up getting hurt.”

He was aggravated, you could tell by the tightness of his voice. He was being vulnerable, speaking of feeling fear and uncertainty, two things a man like Miguel tried desperately to make sure no one ever saw. You knew it was taking a lot for him to bring this up and wear his heart on his sleeve like he was. You had been thinking about the status and future of your relationship too, but even with as understanding as Miguel had been with you, bringing up such a sensitive topic first wasn’t something you felt like doing. Now that he was laying it out on the table, you felt you had the freedom and permission to speak freely.

“You’re trying to go legit, right?”

Miguel simply nodded.

“So you’re trying to turn things around. You’re trying to make things right, better. You’re taking what was left to you and trying to adjust it so that it’s as legal and safe as possible. That stands for something. I know it isn’t going to happen overnight. I get that. All I want is honesty. Do the right thing as often as you can and I’ll be here every step of the way. I understand if you feel that’s something that you can’t do, but then,”

You motioned to the space between the two of you with a wince.

“I’ll always care for you and be there if you need me, but I’m not sure that we’ll be compatible for the future.”

Miguel nodded, understanding perfectly. You had taken things much easier than he had anticipated and he was more than grateful that you had agreed to talk about it. Your mature but honest approach solidified that you were the right woman for him and if you were willing to understand where he was coming from and not only respect but encourage his growth, affording you the truth was something he could definitely do. With another single nod, Miguel reached forward and held the back of your head. He brought you closer to him, pressing his lips to your nose, laughing softly as you wrinkled it under his lips. When he pulled away, his eyes held a newfound fire in them and he spoke to you earnestly, making a pledge.

“I’ll tell you the truth. Anything you want clarified, just ask. I’ll tell you what I can.”

The smile on your face brought a smug grin to his and he stood from the sofa, holding his hand out to you.

“Now. Come try the cake I had custom ordered for tonight.”

Miguel taglist  @ezekielreyes 

General taglist  @piccasoe​

[theblackbirdsgemimagines]

Ramble away, cause I feel the twisted head rot, I kinda wanna see what you think about our bois. ~ a pocket sized dragon hops in excitement.

A POCKET SIZED DWAGOOOOOONNNN 😭💞💞💞 That’s so BLESSED, and tysm omg, I’m very glad to just spill out my barking on every boy, bc yEAH THE BRAIN ROT SKDHAKDB

THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL LOL

Everything I breathe ends up relating to TWST in some way, like at this point just let me take my friends, cousins, and pets, and of course Lulu and Seb, and I will have 1. A Gottdamned Harem, 2. So Many Children, and 3. NEVER WANT TO LEAVE. Kwfhskdhjwek

Ok this is gonna be long bc I gotta cover all my boys, so rip lol.

Dorm Leads:

Riddle

GOD, my Fucking Baby, my CHILD, my SWEET BABY BOY, I’M 👁💧👄💧👁

I would die for him, beetch, he is PRECIOUS ♥️

He reminds me of how I feel Ciel would behave if S/O took the place as Sebastian’s contracee, too, so like 🥺 Lots of feels 😭

Is Son, I have adopted him now. If you mistreat him, don’t ever speak to me or my son ever again. I’ll FIGHT his MOM, don’t TEST me. I’m his new mom now. His BIRD mom. So proud of him, he’s like...one of the few that’s actually shown growth in canon after his overblot kshdkadjs

Leona

👁💧👄💧👁

.....I am a Mere Simp....

Ya’ll.... I swearh to ghOD I simped hard for Scar back when I was a wee thing, I did NOT expect to simp for him AGAIN LATER IN LIFE, what the FUCK aidhskdhskdj

Like shit bitch, damn, you may not be king of Afterglow honey, but you can be king of my heart if you wAnt to bb....

Leona: *smiles once, even if it’s smugly*

Me: *WEEPING* Look at hiiiiiiim!! My sunshine booooooy! 😭

Does this make me a furry

Probably

I am too Simp to Care Anymore

I HESITATED TO GET ATTACHED BC THIS BOY LOOKS LIKE A FUCKIN WOMANIZER IF I EVER SAW ONE, BUT HE DRINKS HIS RESPECT WOMEN JUICE EVERY SINGLE MORNING AND I WAS A GONNER SNDJAJDHSJ

FUCK

Call me a Herbivore again, bully me //SLAPPED

Azul

He secretly a lil shit sometimes, but tha’s ok, it’s mostly in a silly way, especially post overblot~ UvU

The sweetest bby everytime I read fanposts on him, like god, ah 💜💜💜 WHOMST COULD BULLY SUCH A CUTE CHUBBY OCTOBABY I’LL FIGHT ALL OF EM!! A sweetheart 10/10 would be his friend 💗 Not making contracts with him tho, lol

...ok maybe SOME after his overblot, but they’re able to be easily reversed now, so it’s way more chill andhsjdj

Kalim

FUCK!!!! F U C K!!!! BABYYYYYYY!!!! BABY!!!! I HAVE ADOPTED HIM IF YOU TOUCH HIM YOU D I E

He is literally so sweet, anytime anyone was like “you’re so nice it’s annoying” I WAS READY TO COME FLYING IN TO BITCH SLAP THEM LIKE AJDHSKDHSJ (even if I also loved them lol)

Like NO you are WRONG whfksjd

He has also grown so much, and I am proud ♥️🧡

Vil

Jesus Christ, canon Vil is Hurting Meeeeee ajdhskdhsj

My fave fanon Vil is the one that recognizes all different types of beauty, though~ uvu and is v encouraging to anyone that may be struggling with self hatred 💜

Canon: Vil is pretty~.

Me: Wow, wtf???? He IS so pretty... How rude I didn’t think you were serious! Wow him??? Pretty??? Wow??? Wow...

Idia

I’m not sure yet, as I haven’t seen him very often, but of the few times that I have: BIG same, huge mood, and Me FUCKING Too, goddamn akdhakdj

Idia is my Anxiety and Anime Nerd personified tbh lol

What Ortho is to him are what all my comfort characters are to me, honestly.

Like what would you like bby, you want that singing voice?? Ok here comes a synthesizer just special for you~. Ily, mwah~ u3u 💕

Malleus

HEAVY BREATHING

Ok maybe it’s just the lack of story/info out on him yet, but I don’t currently simp as hard for him compared to Leona, I’ll admit jajdkajd

BUT BOY HOWDEY DO I EVER STILL S I M P...

He Is Baby... And I Lob Him....

I am going to smooch those horns and forehead crown of beautiful scales 🖤🖤🖤 I am going to do it!!!! Here I go!!!

HE CAN HAVE ALL THE ICE CREAM AND TAMAGATCHI DATES HE WANTS I’M- 😭

This man is too precious for words, and I have so much childhood nostelgia to ‘enchanted’ woods, and being in the mountains, so he has Old Fae Friend vibes to me~🖤

DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON F-

Ngl I ship him and Leona a lil bit lol

No, not just bc that makes a poly with my two faves easier, but that is a bonus factor jadhajdj

Vice Dorm Heads:

Trey

Oh my god, the Daddy to my Mommy with all these newly adopted lil kids of ours, ya know??? What a wholesome sweetie and funny lil shit jahdksdh~

I love him, I would gladly make tarts with, AND for him 💚💚💚

The kind of boi who I’d ship HARD with anyone he started dating bc My God it would warm my heart So Much 💞💞

Ruggie (unofficial but may as well be at this point lol)

He took a while to grow on me kadhskdhsj

But I think he’d be a sweet, if a trouble-maker of a friend to have~.

Dank you for taking care of my sweet lion bby, honey, I’m sure Farrena is a sweetheart, but boi I hope he gets his shit together to fix up where Ruggie lives 😭

I think if I met his granny, I’d CRY jadhajsh 💗💗

Leech Twins (?)

Idk if they’re vice leaders, but who cares lol

THESE are the older Big Brothers in every sense of the word. (My canon ages most everyone up just a bit, save for Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Jamil, Cheka, and anyone already 20+)

The ANNOYING older big brothers, lol.

The ones that hug you to death (Floyd), or use you for an arm rest (Jade), and specifically Do the thing you asked/told them NOT to Do.

This is fine with me tho, I’m an only child, please give me the experience of annoying older brothers lol 💙💚

Jamil

I used to hate you bby, I’m so sorry akdhskdhs

I’ve adopted him now, and I’m v proud he’s trying, but making clear what his boundaries are, and trying to come out of a shell he was made to be in for so long 😭

AND HIS DANCING IS SICK LIKE HONESTLY I’M SUCH A PROUD MOM 💗💗💗

Rook

God. FUCKING Rook, lol.

IDK IF I SHOULD TRUST YOU, but I also kinda wanna be your friend akdhakdjs

HE CONCERNS ME but he also seems nice and v sweet sometimes, lmao

Blz don’t stalk me tho 😬

STOP SHOOTING YOUR ARROWS AROUND SCHOOL YOU BLOODY HEATHEN FRENCH PRISS, YOU ARE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

Also, if he DARES hunt cute animals around me, especially BIRDS, I am going to GRIP him jahdkahdsk

He’s like if Lord Druitt was a Little More Nice and a Little Bit Less Creepy ajdhak

Lilia:

GOD.

I LOVE THIS FUCKING GRANDPA.

I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS FUCKING. GRANDPA.

I absolutely hc him as nonbinary w/masc pronouns, I absoLUTELY do.

I adore him, I love him, I haven’t gotten a squish (hardcore desire to be someone’s friend, lol) this hard for a character since AngelDust, I-

Pwease be nonbinary friends with me, Lilia 🥺

THE ONLY PERSON HERE SHORTER THAN ME, BUT I’LL TAKE IT AJDHAKDHJS

Anyone know Corpse and how he plays Among Us? That’s how I see Lilia playing his video games with friends and I JUST I JUST I J U S T

The Spencer to your Carly.

He and Crowley are free to compete as Dad with me too like honestly kshdkadjjs

He’ll always be granpa tho uvu 💚💖🖤

Extras:

Ace

God, the Fucking Annoying Middle Brother that pranks you ALL THE DAMN TIME, but I love him andhakdhsk

Deuce

THE BROTHER THAT WILL BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES 💙💙💙 SWEET BABY BOY

The Josh to Ace’s Drake. The Cody to Ace’s Zack. The Freddie to your Carly and Ace’s Sam.

If he and Ace started dating, tho, I would CRY.

But regardless who they end up dating, it’ll be slow burn friends to lovers, and literally the most adorable shit to watch EVER 💞💞💞😭

Cater

Seems Like A Womanizer But Actually Drinks His Reapect Women Juice And We Stan That 🧡

Can always count on him to help tou get the best Magicram shots, bless you Cater 🧡🧡

Also rly wanna be his friend, ngl 😭 Even IF he pranks me a lot kadhakdhsj

Jack:

H E AV Y BR EA T H IN G

Ngl my feelings for him are in the air IDK IF I WANNA SMOOCH OR NOT YET I JUST KNOW I LOB HIM HE GOODEST BESTEST BOY 💛💛💛😭

If all three Savannaclaw bois got in a cuddle pile with me, I would Not Be Mad

How can I give this boy love, tell me and I will Do It

Gift him all the cacti’s he WANTS💛

God he drinks that respecc women juice bright and early on his run every morning, you KNOW he does 💛💛💛

I wawnt to pet his ears an tail an fwuffy wolf form 😭

I WAWNT TO SEE THE BOY SMILE AND BE HAPPY 💞💞💞

Sebek

CHILL CHILL CHILL CHILL CH-

He is a v devoted guard tho, we love to see it UvU

I don’t have more info on him hekdhskdj but his fanmade content seems v v sweet~ 💚

Silver

HE ATTRACTS BIRDS AND I CRY ABOUT IT PLEASE BE MY FRIEND AND TEACH ME HOW 🥺🥺🥺

Him being raised by Lilia and Malleus literally gives me so much Fucking Seratonin....... God 💞💕💗💗💞💞💗💗💕💞

Ortho

IS BABY????? IS BABY!!!!!! I’M LOVE HIM I’M ADOPTING HIM IS BABYYYYYYY 💙💙💙💙💙

Cheka:

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

He is so FUCKING CUTE what the FUCK!

Leonaaaaaaa... 🥺 Your NEPHEWWWWW 😭

I might steal him from Farrena tbh, lIKE MY CHILD NOW~ 🧡🧡

I just sob and hug him every time I see him honestly 😭

Teachers:

Dire Crowley

Ohhhhhh god oh god oh god

Be my dad. Please. Be my dad. PLEASE be my dad. Ya’ll think I’m joking, I’m not. Please adopt me. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

This man as a father gives me so much dopamine and oxytocin and seratonin??? I have been weeping for WEEKS, please adopt me, Sir

Fathers with zero braincells being wrapped around a daughter’s little finger makes me so weak, and I am just here with Daddy Issues like ajdhakdhsj BLEASE ADOPT ME MISTER BIRD MAN

Crewel

Ew.

Forgive me, I haven’t seen much content with him in it/that could be considered wholesome, bUT JADHWKDJSJ

UncoMFORTABLE

Please keep the kink talk out of the classroom, S I R

Call me puppy one more time, see what happens, I’m not scared to fight a teacher akdhakdhsj

Trein

The Dad Figure that tries to be the stern part to Crowley’s blumbering kahdkqrhsjdj

Don’t feel as much attachment to him emotionally, but I like him~

Just let me pet your cat sometimes and give you holiday presents, and we’re cool~ ♥️

Vargas

Found the womanizer //SMACKED

And of course, I can’t forget Grim~!

He’s grown on me, and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in the room, and then myself 😭

I will pet and snuggle and hold him all he wants and feed him all the tuna his heart desires uvu 💙

[dweetwise]

Picture with me. Mt Ormond Legion gets the map. They see what they think is a new cosmetic of like a fur coat. They go to taunt. An actual bear rears up and looks at them. Legion bolts and does not want to be injured by a grizzly. Lets survivors know from out of stabbing distance of the bear.

[bless u anon for feeding my dbd crack needs. you didn’t say which legion you wanted so have some rat boy frank!]

swearing ahead! also ooc but what else is new lol

Frank VS bear: ficlet/crack

Seeing the mist fade as he’s teleported into a trial, the familiar chilly mountain air seeps though Frank’s mask. He spins his knife and hums in content, glancing around at the grounds of the ski lodge he knows like the back of his hand.

“Fuck yeah, home advantage,” Frank grins to himself, starting the trek through the thin layer of snow towards the far side of the map where his annoying little survivor prey usually spawn.

He cuts through a jungle gym, slowing down once he spots something through the window. Is that a fucking fur jacket? Frank suppresses a snicker while imagining which of the survivor pricks the new outfit belongs to. Maybe bird boy wanted to look even more like a caveman? Or the sleazy gambler thought it’d go well with his trashy fucking sequin pants?

He doesn’t get any answers, as the person doesn’t seem to be moving, just crouching a ways off from the window trying to hide. He knows his heartbeat range is tiny, courtesy of the Doc’s teachings, so maybe the fucker has spine chill? Frank sidesteps the wall, walking backwards around the corner so as not to alert the skittish survivor.

“Hey fuckface, the 50′s called--” Frank taunts, finally turning around and raising his knife, ready to surprise the living shit out of--

Frank’s grin drops as he comes face to face with a fucking bear holy fucking shit! The bear growls before standing up on its hind legs and roaring--

Frank nearly shits his pants and scurries through the window in a frenzy, dropping his weapon while fumbling through the opening in a panic. He bolts out of the jungle gym, sprinting towards the other side of the map as fast as his legs will carry him.

His heart is pounding in his ears and he has no idea if the bear is following him. Frank braves a glance over his shoulder and-- “Shit!” --trips over some inconveniently placed rubble, landing flat on his face in the snow with his mask falling off from the impact and sliding away on the icy ground. Fuck! Fuck! Frank looks up, frantically trying to spot the animal chasing him, but ends up freezing from mortification instead.

Not even five feet to his side, three survivors are crouching beside a generator, having stopped dead in their repairs to stare at him with varying levels of disbelief. For a few painful seconds Frank just awkwardly stares back at the familiar faces of fellow Ormondian Jeff, that tired bitch, Quentin, and wannabe Oprah--Jane? The silence is uncomfortable as nobody moves a muscle, the only sound being the slow putter from the generator.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Quentin, the little shit, finally bursts out and actually doubles over from laughter beside the machine. Frank feels his rage flare up and fuck that bitch is getting stabbed-- “Hey kid, you alright?” Jeff offers and approaches Frank, extending a hand to help the other up. Frank snaps out of it and springs to his feet, reminded of the impending doom of the bear chasing him. “Bear! BEAR!!!” Frank yells, grabbing the bearded man by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “Stop insulting him, you homophobic piece of--” Jane starts angrily, forcefully yanking Frank off of the artist. “No you dumb bitch, an actual grizzly! It almost fucking ate me!” Frank explains in panic, slapping at the woman’s arm until she lets him go. “What the heck are you on about??” Jane demands, rubbing at her arm where Frank landed a decent punch. “He’s probably tripping,” Quentin deadpans, having recovered from his laughing fit and now back on the generator. “You know, on more than his own feet,” he adds, snickering. “Shut the fuck up Smith--” ”Where did you see the bear?” Jeff asks with a serious tone, placing a calming hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank recoils away from the touch in disgust. ”On the other side of the lodge, near... I think by the snow cannon,” Frank explains, wracking his panicked brain for information. ”Would you show me?” Jeff asks. ”Hell no! I ain’t getting eaten!” Frank protests angrily. ”Like it'd want your skinny ass anyway,” Quentin quips. Frank whips around, ready to throw fists, when Jeff fucking touches him again ugh-- ”We’ll try to spot it from the lodge balcony where it’s safe,” Jeff explains, reassuring hand on Franks bicep and shooting a warning look Quentin’s way. ”Jeff why are you humoring him? Surely it’s a trap,” Jane demands, hands on her hips and giving Frank the stink eye. ”Can’t you see how scared he is?” Jeff argues. ”I’m not fucking scared--” Frank starts, blood boiling and face heating up in embarrassment. “You guys work on the gens on this side while we check it out,” Jeff again interrupts his tantrum, leading Frank to the lodge with a strong grip on his arm. Frank doesn’t protest (much), kind of glad to be rid of the two bitches by the gen.

He follows Jeff to the second floor of the lodge, and soon they’re looking around for the bear from the balcony. Frank spots it, almost at the exact same location as before, frantically pulling at Jeff’s sleeve and pointing at the animal.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, astonished. “Why did the entity put a bear here?” “I don’t fucking know! What the fuck are we gonna do?? I can’t kill you or the bear, I dropped my knife earlier!" Frank rambles angrily. “I don’t think you’re supposed to kill anything,” Jeff says, thoughtful. “You know, there’s only three of us in the trial today.” Before Frank has an opportunity to demand what the fuck Jeff is on about, the man says something that makes his blood run cold: ”I think the bear is the killer. And you’re... a survivor.” “Bull-fucking-shit I’m a pussy survivor!” Frank protests angrily. “And even if I was--which I’m not... why?” “Entity parenting?” Jeff suggests. “It’s probably sick of you being a brat.” “I fucking hate you,” Frank says, giving his dirtiest glare. “The second I get my knife back--” “Sure kid,” Jeff says and has the audacity to smile. “Now let’s go find the others.”

They find Quentin and Jane on a different generator than before. Jeff explains the situation, causing Quentin to, predictably, burst out in laughter.

“It’s not fucking funny--” Frank hisses. “Oh my god I’m so done with this entity bullshit,” Jane sighs tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What am I even supposed to do!?” Frank demands, crossing his arms and staring at the trio with barely concealed hatred. “You’re supposed to help us out with wholesome magical teamwork!” Quentin beams, clearly getting off on his misery. “Or y’know, get mauled to death by the grizzly. Your choice.” “Quentin, stop picking a fight and show Frank how to fix the gen. Me and Jane will handle the ones that are closer to the bear,” Jeff decides. “Fuck no I ain’t staying with this cunt!” Frank exclaims, mortified. “Works for me,” Quentin shrugs, ignoring Frank and merely offering a wave as Jeff and Jane take off.

After Frank reluctantly listens to Quentin’s half-assed instructions and crouches down to touch the generator in disgust, the annoying teen thankfully shuts up. For a while Frank tries his best to stay focused on the machine, his leg jumping in pent-up energy as his thoughts flutter between the threat of the bear, his rage for the entity’s stunt, the uncertainty of what’s to come after this trial--

“Motherfucker!” Frank curses at the machine as it explodes under his hands. “You know,” Quentin says absently, not even acknowledging his failure. “You should ditch the fugly mask more often. Makes you almost tolerable to look at,” he challenges with a smirk. “Maybe you should have it, fuck knows you need it more with a mug like that,” Frank shoots back without missing a beat, ducking behind the generator to hide a grin. His foot stops twitching and he realizes it’s much easier to focus when he has someone to banter with.

Later, when the stupid generators are done and there’s no sign of the bear, they regroup with Jeff and Jane (ugh) in an already opened exit. Frank grimaces as Jeff tries to give him some cringy heartfelt compliment, before flipping Jane off when the woman tries to start an apology. Jane huffs in annoyance while Jeff merely chuckles, leading Jane into the exit, both of them disappearing into the void.

“I wonder what’s gonna happen once you get out,” Quentin muses, leaning against the gate panel and not seeming in any hurry to leave. “You think this was a one-off?” “I sure fucking hope so,” Frank mutters, not eager to repeat this dumb practical joke of the entity. “You didn’t actually do terrible today, rat boy,” Quentin quips with a grin. “Says the raccoon,” Frank mutters, turning away as he feels his neck heating up from a single half-assed compliment. Where’s his fucking mask when you need it?? “Eh, raccoons are kinda cute. I’ll take it,” Quentin says, thankfully ignoring his embarrassment. “More like stinky and a pain in the ass.” ”None of those are mutually exclusive,” Quentin jokes, before looking back into the snowy map in thought. “Going back for your mask still?” he asks, with barely concealed... worry? ”Nah, Susie’ll make another,” Frank remarks, ignoring the other’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Maybe you should do this more often,” Quentin says. “Get rid of the mask and, y’know, stabbing. Might even make some friends.” “I don’t need friends,” Frank scoffs. He has his Legion, why would he want to play family with the survivors?

Quentin--smirks?--which is definitely not the reaction Frank was anticipating. Frank suddenly realizes he’s been standing way too close to Quentin for acceptable bro-range and the other is looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Frank feels his face heat up and an insult dies on his tongue. Quentin opens his mouth to say something, but seems to notice something behind Frank as his eyes go comically wide.

“FUCK, THE BEAR!!” Quentin yells and Frank bearly has time to turn around to see the massive animal come barreling towards them before Quentin is pulling on his jacket, making them both stumble and nearly trip over each other as they fall into the safety of the exit gate threshold.

[is frank a) a bi disaster b) terrible at making friends or c) all of the above? also where do i sign to let jeff adopt legion]

[lemondoddle]

Ok, so! For the fmk alt (and I'm gonna make it podcast themed cause ofc i would)! 1 - Elias, Simon Fairchild, Annabelle Cane; 3 - Juno, Rita, Vespa ; 4 - Dr Bright, Caleb, Chloe ; 5 - Sir Damien, Sir Angelo, Talfryn ; 7 - Eiffel, Minkowski, Lovelace!

omg julia 🥺🥺🥺🥺tysm

1) stab, shoot or drown - Elias, Simon Fairchild, Annabelle Cane

ohohohh tricky! i dont think i can drown simon on account of him being a vast avatar and he would probably just :3 at me from under the water, so while i think it would theatrically satisfying to shoot elias i think ill shoot simon, also because the idea of holding elias under the water of some grimy bathtub in a seedy motel while his suit and combover get ruined as he thrashes sounds very gratifying, so drown elias! that just leaves stabbing annabelle which i think i could do in like a really homoerotic way where we’re inches apart from each other making eye contact and its like in movies where the camera shot is just face and chest and you just see her flinch and stumble back and it pans down to the stab wound in her stomach yknow?

3) fight aliens with, fight zombies with, fight capitalism with- Juno, Rita, Vespa

for sure fight aliens with juno, as he has prior experience from dealing with miasma. fight zombies with vespa because shes a trained assassin and the more i think about zombies the easier i think it is to fight them bc theyre literally decayed corpses they are so fragile which is like child’s play for vespa probably and i might even get some zombies down and she’d be like good job and id be like thank u ///////. and DEFINITELY fight capitalism with rita she’s like the best hacker in the universe she’d cancel all student debt and redistribute the 1%’s wealth to everyone in like 15 minutes and we’d have a wonderful conversation while she does it

4) write a book with, read a book to, hit with a book- Dr bright, Caleb, Chloe

oh no im so down for two of these but i cant hit any of them with a book i care them!! if i had to i guess i would VERY LIGHTLY hit caleb with a book on like the arm bc we were probably goofing around and i had a book in hand. i would however totally write a book with chloe that would be so fucking tight because my biggest problem with writing is that i have all these thoughts but i never know how to phrase them and having someone that could read my thoughts would be a godsend. lastly, id read a book to dr bright because that woman just needs to take a long moment and fucking Relax for once, let her lay down while i read something nice and soothing because she deserves it!! 

5) go on a six hour road trip with (no car radio, you choose who drives), sit next to on a six hour plane flight, sit across from on a six hour train journey- Sir Damien, Sir Angelo, Talfryn

definitely go on a 6 hour road trip with sir angelo, for both my entertainment and for the sake of the plane and train passengers because he is kinda real loud. i guess i’ll probably have to drive considering cars dont exist in the second citadel but either way having him in the car would be a hoot and he would keep me very entertained by telling me of his heroic adventures the whole time. the plane one is a bit of a toss-up between tal and damien because theyre both just so nervous and probably wouldnt take well to being on a plane but i think ill go with sitting on a 6 hour plane ride with sir damien, he’ll ask Saint Damien to bless the flight and get himself worked up and rambling every time there’s slight turbulence but its okay ill hold his hand and reassure him and let him lean on me to nap after tiring himself out from worrying. he’d also probably go “ha HA! thank you Saint Damien!!” after the plane lands and i think thats real neat. now i get to sit across talfryn on a 6 hour train ride which i think he still might be a little uncomfortable in the beginning, but i’ll ask him about the plants and ecosystems that pass outside the window and listen to him infodump about that and make for a pleasant lil trip  

7) go to a wedding with, go to a party with, go to a museum with- Eiffel, Minkowski, Lovelace

ooooh i would Love to go to a wedding with lovelace as my date plus one, the actual wedding would be fine and she’d give me a lovingly teasing look when i cry because im a sappy crybaby bitch and when the bride throws the bouqet she’d catch it and give me a wink and we wouldnt even be able to go to the afterparty bc id faint right then and there. go to a party with eiffel bc he’d probably carry the conversations with people and wouldnt mind that i’djust kinda trail behind him to whole time and we’d probably just end up sitting together somewhere chatting bc while i very much adore him he’s not as suave and cool as he thinks he is but that’s okay he’d probably suggest leaving the party via obscure dated reference and we’d go get pizza and drive down the road at night windows down music blasting!. and defs go to a museum with Minkowski, we’d hold hands and id get to gush about the art pieces and she’d get to gush about history artifacts bc i think she’d be really interested in that 

[camillesfm]

。· . ˙ ⌈ alva bratt + cis female + she / her + the  intangible concept ⌋  yo ,  have  you  meet  that  KOOK  ,  camille 'cj' petersen ,  yet ?  — no ?  well ,  to  give  you  a  little  heads  up  before  you  do  ,  they’re  a  TWENTY   year  old ,  PRE-LAW STUDENT  ,  and  have  been  living  in  coston  for  TWENTY . since  i’ve  known  them  ,  they’ve  reminded  me  of PALE PINK POINTE SHOES , CHAINS MADE OF WHITE CLOVERS , A PURPLE SKY JUST BEFORE SUNRISE , STEADY WAVES CRASHING AT LOW TIDE , AND SHATTERED & SCATTERED GLASS . usually  they’re  quite  LEVELHEADED  &  THOUGHTFUL  but  just  make  sure  you  keep  an  eye  out  for  them  around  town  because  i  heard  can  be  quite  RETICENT  &  ALOOF  as  well  so  here’s  hoping  they  aren’t  the  ones  to  undo  this  whole  peace  pact  they  have  going  on  this  summer .  but  just  between  you  &  me ,  i  kinda  hope it  all  falls  apart .  the  rivalry  keeps  this  whole  boring  town  interesting . –– this is cj . . . let’s just . . . dive into this mess ! 

𝐁 𝐀 𝐂 𝐊 𝐆 𝐑 𝐎 𝐔 𝐍 𝐃 .

scarlett petersen is a name known statewide, as she’s the best corporate lawyer on the east coast, clever as the devil and twice as pretty with long blonde hair often pinned into a sleek ponytail. david petersen got his degree at vanderbilt university, moving on to get his phd at unc chapel hill where he could never quite shake that carolina blue. he’s been sitting chancellor for the past six years in tandem with a long term sports-medicine, neuroscience research project that studies the long term affects of brain damage in athletes in contact sports. they both hail from old money families, and long lines of success are continued in two people who hold appearance and accomplishment far above humility or even . . . . humanity lol. they’re good people, really . . . just not really the parenting type.

which is unfortunate! as.  well into their marriage, they had twins, caleb, first, and camille, ten minutes later. bright eyed and blonde haired, the perfect petersen babies were angels in their infancy, and it was easy to parent them . . . especially when they were paying someone else to do it.

caleb and camille grew up under the watchful eye of a rosy-cheeked nanny. think julie andrews as nanny in eloise. they were happy, but lonely, though you’d never guess it by their wide smiles in cuddled family portrait christmas cards. for all anyone else knew, scarlett and david were perfect parents, raising two beautiful children who they loved more than anything . . . but behind that iron gated entryway to a house on the coast was another story.

they liked their kids, sure, but whether or not they loved them was another question entirely. camille, growing up to be the spitting image of scarlett, was liked in the way a rare porcelain artifact was. she was a beautiful thing to behold; seen, not spoken to. shown off, not interacted with in anyway. held with delicate hands and passed around as a humble brag: look at this precious thing i’ve brought into the world. i bet mine’s better than yours. 

but as time passed, the novelty of having children seemed to wear off, and they were moving to the next big thing, the next big step in their careers. they weren’t around when camille began going by cj because it was easier for little voices to say. they weren’t around when blonde ringlets relaxed and grew darker. they weren’t around when she started to develop a personality of her own, interests of her own, talents of her own. christmas cards would go out, but rarely were they all together on christmas morning. thanksgivings were often spent with grandparents, as their parents worked through the holiday. they spent more and more time away from coston, leaving cj and caleb in nanny’s capable hands.

but life goes on, and sometimes it was easy to forget that it was abnormal not to have your parents around. as a youngin, cj was interested in everything. she took a liking to soccer and lacrosse, painting and drawing, piano and guitar . . . but somewhere in between a blue mat and pale pink pointe shoes, she found her thing.

it was obvious, from an early age, that cj was one hell of a dancer. disciplined and precise when she needed to be. creative and passionate when it called for it. gymnastics trained her strength, ballet trained her patience, contemporary pushed her limits with creativity, partner work taught her teamwork. dance was very clearly her best thing and her favorite thing.

her parents only ever attended recitals when it didn’t conflict with anything else on their schedules and when it was classical ballet. dance was a frivolous thing for them, but for cj it was everything. being a naturally shy kid, naturally timid in the shadow of her last name, she became a completely different person on stage who dominated a spotlight . . . without even needed a literal spotlight. ultimately, this is what she spent her life doing. monday through thursday evenings, dance. competitions and performances on the weekends. if neither were happening, you’d catch her teaching classes at coston’s local studio.

it’s what truly made her happy, but that wasn’t something her parents understood. caleb and nanny did, sure, but her parents? not one bit. someone would ask what she wanted to be when she grew up, and if dance was mentioned, she’d be cut off mid-sentence. they didn’t want to hear about it because it wasn’t logical. you can’t make a career out of it. it didn’t help much that her brother was the ideal child in that realm, charming and on a path to success in the medical field. they still had questionable motives, but they favored nonetheless.

sometimes it was a blessing; sometimes it was a curse. when she could slip under the radar, she was grateful, but it seemed that her parents had a keen eye for her screwups. any chance they had, they’d use to scold her or nudge her away from the pointe shoes.

so cj spent a lot of time being pristine in the way that was expected of her, never letting anyone know too much about her, only keeping a few friends close enough to really know her. she stayed out of trouble, kept up exceptional grades, smiled and nodded when necessary, and began catering to the idea that she’d go to law school, a fate pre-determined by her mother no doubt. 

nowadays, she attends brown university, pre-law. she’s a picturesque ivy league gal with a dark academia aesthetic when at school, but there’s a restlessness lingering under the surface. even she’s doing what her parents require of her, she never seems to live up to their unrealistic expectations. we rly do be . . . . waiting for her to have a complete breakdown . . . . aklsdfjha

𝐏 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘 .

miss camille . . . better known around town as cj . . . is, above all else, the picture of serenity. she’s levelheaded and calm, and patient as all get out which is probably why she’s so damned accustomed to just going with what her parents thought of her. she’s really great to have in a crisis because very few things cause that steady nature of hers to crumble, and because she’s honestly. . . quietly very maternal. putting the needs of others before her own comes naturally.

she’s quiet and shy, yes, but just because she doesn’t speak doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen. she listens and sees and is . . . quite observant. there’s a way about her that notices the little things, which makes her quite thoughtful when it comes to the people she loves. if you’re lucky enough to be close to her, you can bet she quietly takes notes of little habits and favorites and carefully uses them to idk love ya better ya feel??

reticent comes from the fact that she doesn’t often let people get close to her. the way her parents treated her and caleb growing up has taken. .. . a toll for sure because honestly she’s terrified of disappointing people by shattering the mirror of perfection and revealing too much about herself that’s unexpected

aloof comes from the way she’s calm and quiet . . . and how that sometimes translates as apathy . . . on top of that she’s very daydreamy like she is That Bitch who is staring out of the window producing a whole move in her head which sometimes causes her to not hear when people are talking to her . . . cue the ‘hm? what?’ tuning back in

when i say cj is a different person when she’s dancing . . . . i mean it. like i REALLY mean it. she’s confident and expressive. her choreography tests the limits of tradition. she pushes boundaries when it comes to the physicality of performances. like u rly look at her being quiet and to herself in the corner at a country club event and then see her performing like she invented contemporary and ur like . .. . are u SURE that’s the same girl

people who know her most know her as warm. when she opens up, getting past the shy, she can be a little goofy, definitely has avery creative way about her, wants to know that you’re okay and if you’re not, how can she help ya know!! 

has a black cat named lucky because ya know . . . black cats are bad luck . . . ha ha ha ha . . . get it

the ‘j’ in cj is for her middle name . . . but no one really knows what her middle name is . . . except family and close, close friends 

absolutely hates the energy of the pogue/kook rivalry and thinks violence is most cERTAINLY not the way to go

often times found by the shoreline at night, just a little ways off from the petersen estate because she likes the way the waves sound as they roll in. it helps her think

is trying to make the best of law school by studying to become a defense attorney and she likes it! sort of! really, she just wants to dance for as long as she can and ultimately open up her own studio

definitely believes in wishing stars

bad case of insomnia

has a finsta dedicated to lucky

has a dance insta too . . . . but that’s lowkey bc her parents can’t know about it

please for the love of god watch this because charity and cj have the same energy

this also has cj energy

so does this . . . classical is fun when it’s telling a story and she loves a good pas de deaux but otherwise meh

my girl is physically . .. QUITE strong

says sorry WAY too often

incessant need to prove herself, prove her worth, since her parents never seem to find it

loves caleb sfm but will thump him in the forehead for mentioning he’s older

overachiever . . . . yikes

ABSOLUTELY burns the candle at both ends

idk if y’all watched high school musical the musical the series but gina . . . . . ..  minus the ‘mean girl’ plot they tried . . .. is v cj and bitch i hate to say it but neville longbottom??? also a cj mood LMAO

OK THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL THERE WE GO IT’S DONE I’M DONE GBYYYYYE BABIIIIE

[zukofenty]

Day 4: bad decisions

➜  The one where Katara (might) be in love with the campus drug dealer.

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, teeny bit of angst, DrugDealer!Zuko 

➜ Words: 5.3k

➜ Warnings: I love DrugDealer!Zuko more than I love myself 😩

AO3, Zutara Month Playlist, @zutaramonth​ hi i love u! 

➜ Notes: hehe listen to “Bad Decisions” by Miss Ari! life changing! 

“Zuko’s dead? ” Katara nearly screams into the phone. She pulls on one of his hoodies and is scrambling to find her slides and keys.

Toph sighs. “We all knew this would happen. The sky’s blue, Beyonce needs to stop forcing her boyfriend on us. Basic facts. Get it together , Katara.”

“Toph, how does your disdain for Jay-Z make it into every conversation you have?” Suki wearily states. “All we know is that a dealer got shot near the frats today. So in conclusion, Zuko’s dead.”

“Donezo.”

“Bitch is gone .”

“God bless his beautiful ass.”

“A moment of silence for his fake Chanel blouses.”

Katara does her breathing exercises. “ Enough .” She hears a knock at the door, and immediately grabs her expandable baton. “Oh my god , someone’s at the door.” She whips out the baton to its full length.

Toph gasps. “Bitch, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. Are we getting a two for one deal tonight?”

Suki cheers. “I call dibs on her Fenty highlighters.”

“Oh hell fucking no ! You do not have the range for Trophy Wife, whore!” Toph shouts right into the microphone. Katara winces, and takes out an Airpod. She’s heaving, nervous at who could be at the door. Toph and Suki were trying to negotiate with each other on who was getting Katara’s brand new Hydrating Foundation when she takes an experimental glance out the peephole. Her gasp reverberates through the phone.

“She’s died, Suki! She’s died!” Toph wails, her screams nearly unintelligible.

“ Zuko? ” Katara screeches at the top of her lungs, launching herself at him so violently her other Airpod pops out.

He chuckles when she locks her legs around his waist, his arms coming out to support her from underneath her ass. It’s domestic, and he relishes in the attention. “Hello to you, too.” She’s smiling at him and it’s beautiful and soft and everything he wanted to see after the shitty night he’s had. Dealing in college was an easy route to Balenciaga and bitches. Everyone did it, it was as easy as catching HPV at your school. Yet, Zhao, the Kingpin of dealers, just had to get his side-chick pregnant and then just had to get shot by his girlfriend. Even if he did get shot up because he was a slut (#FreeZhao), the campus dean had called the cops and was in the process of launching an extensive campaign to fuck up any current dealers. Even if you possess the slightest hint of addy for your ADHD, you still had to haul your ass to the campus police station. It wasn’t fair though. Coke is what makes college campuses around the world run as smoothly as they do.

“You promised me you’d stop,” she’s murmuring in his ear, curled up beside him in her cramped twin bed. Her roommates went back home for the weekend, so it makes it just that much easier to pretend you two could be like this. Lost in the sheets, hopelessly in love with her head on his chest.

“If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get you this,” Zuko whispers in her hair. He slides a ring on her finger and she smiles lazily back at him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. God, is this what love feels like? If she accidentally got pregnant with Zuko’s spawn she wouldn’t immediately reach for Plan B? The ring was a simple thing, just plain silver because she wanted one to be “edgy,” obsessed with rings after playing with the handful that adorn Zuko’s fingers. After making sure she was sound asleep, he lets himself smile. Finally , he’s getting somewhere with her.  

Seemingly a too perfect, impenetrable forest, he’s finding himself finally being let into her world. As corny and lovesick it sounded, Zuko understood how easy it was to love someone when he laid eyes on you. All those damn John Green books were right, he begrudgingly admits ( Eat shit John Green.) She truly could not do one wrong thing in his eyes, her soft giggles as she attempted to explain commas and semicolons and gerunds or whatever the fuck he doesn’t quite remember because he was busy being infatuated and trying to make her laugh. They’d met freshman year, and have remained in this weird limbo ever since. Where he would call her  to remind her to eat when she was stressed, and he could plant kisses in her hair when he’s showing up to her apartment at night, cuddling her without her pulling away because it always felt right. At the same time, Katara felt so unattainable, so out of reach. It’s never progressed past simple, flirtatious touches. Yet, being with her feels different than any other relationship he’s been in, as though his heart was permanently and solely hers.

It was easy to fall in love. Katara was so kind, yet so dead set in her ways. Never detracting her focus from school, she had no time for anything else in her life. Her older brother Sokka had raised her when their parents had disappeared shortly after producing the “accident” child. They handed Katara off to him, who hadn’t spoken to them in years. While Sokka was in college and attempting to care for Katara at the same time, he had struck gold with recording labels interested in his music producing work. Soon, he was making songs you could regularly hear on the radio and not just on Soundcloud, and the royalties were ensuring Katara got the best. The best schools, clothes, life. Even if her brother was obsessed with flexing his regular Bugatti purchases on Instagram, she wasn’t nearly as preoccupied. She was always in oversized hoodies that once upon a time ago belonged to Sokka before he decided on dressing like a 30 year old hypebeast Instagrammer still trying to hold onto their youth. Always volunteering her time and doing things rich people had time to do to make themselves feel good about their tax breaks.

It made Zuko feel jealous in a sense, with his uncle struggling to make ends meet his whole life. He ran a small fried chicken and tea shop (Iroh was convinced about this combo) in his neighborhood, and he hated to admit that he was ashamed. That he dreamed of shoving Chanel anything up his ass. He would take the perfume sample cards from the mall that said Givenchy , pinning it to his wall as inspiration for what he would buy in the future. It didn’t make sense to him, when Katara had all this money and couldn’t care less. She penny pinched when she didn’t need to, wore clothes from Forever 21, as though Sokka wouldn’t drop thousands for the Fendi boots she always talked about.

“Damnit, you’re dick sick, aren’t you?” Toph sends her a look that screamed pity. Katara tried to fix the frown, but her eyes always revealed everything. So she nods in agreement, and Toph wraps her up in her arms. Zuko had invited her and Toph to a quote unquote “exclusive party” thrown by the rich kids whose parents owned the university. The Olivia Jades of the world. Schmoney shmoney . It didn’t help that she felt so out of place, circling all throughout the frat house before settling on the cleanest couch near the one window that wasn’t broken. She wanted to be a part of Zuko’s world for a night, see where he was disappearing to on the weekends.

Although Toph spent the better part of the evening prepping her hoe fit, Katara stuck to an uneventful long t shirt (Zuko’s shirt, of course) paired with thigh high boots. She had planned on only staying half an hour, tops. She didn’t drink, smoke, it just wasn’t her thing. Her worst fear was contracting herpes from a wax pen. Even when she was a college freshman and people were busy coming back upchucking all over the communal dorm bathroom, she instead dutifully held hair back, and changed drunk girls’ clothes. She quickly learned the tricks of the trade after cleaning up Sokka’s messy weekend self during his quarter life crisis phase. Admittedly, she was boring . So, she reasoned 30 minutes gave her enough time to walk around the place and see Zuko schmoozing with rich kids, and then leave to have enough time to do her skincare before bed.  

“More like sick. He deals coke now! Coke! That’s a prison drug, ma’am. The real deal,” she whimpers into her tits. She had caught Zuko in one of the trust fund babies’ enormous rooms in the frat house, daddy’s credit cards and student IDs out and about with lines of something she’d only seen in movies. Since all the dealers were on the low with the campus crackdown, and since it was midterms season, the demand amongst the student population was unbelievably high. Zuko was the only brave stupid enough to keep selling. Katara had burst into the room to alert Zuko that Toph and her were about to make a dramatic exit without him to go back to her place and watch John Tucker Must Die instead of studying.

She had expected a lot of things, hell even coke (maybe). What she didn’t anticipate was seeing a girl in Zuko’s lap, kissing up his neck, wearing practically nothing. He had an assertive hand on her thigh, massaging it, manhandling her like Katara wished he would do with her. He’s talking and acting like he belonged with the assholes of your school. Like he wasn’t the gentle guy who Katara always saw in sweats always talking about his half sister, or memories of his uncle’s restaurant. She had made eye contact with him and promptly shut the door, feeling as though her heart would burst any second now.

So Toph and Katara go back to her place, calling up Suki who Ubers over, ready to rag on her (sort of) mans. Both Toph and her were in Suki’s t shirts that she “gave” to the duo. Both girls ignore her protests when she shows up and demands for them back. “Hey, that is premium Aliexpress Yeezus Tour shirts! They don’t sell fakes like these anymore!”

Katara was eating Target generic brand ice cream out the container, her heartbreak palpable, especially to Toph. The two girls were best friends after becoming roommates freshman year. Katara’s a sweet thing, too sweet in Toph’s opinion. Always remembering little things, people’s birthdays or favorite brand of instant Udon packages. She was always the one defending Toph against those who found it too easy to take advantage of her. Toph, in turn, was always there to mend her big heart after no one remembered her birthday freshman year. In many ways, Katara won a permanent place in Toph’s heart. She was always the one showing up to her dance performances, even if they were a two hour bus ride away. Always making sure to take off her makeup after recitals when she was too tired to move. It hurt her to see Katara like this, in pain.

“All I’m saying is that he uses you to play house. It’s time to cut the cord. Don’t be Beyonce, don’t keep letting a man bring down your worth. Plus, you don’t have the range to come out with Lemonade in the middle of all this heartbreak and betrayal.”

She scoops Vanilla bean into her mouth, eyes downcast. “What do you mean? Just because he comes here and sleeps over all the time?” She settles her head in Toph’s lap when she sees Suki begin to straighten her back, prepping for the rant she was about to deliver.

“Katara, sweet, pure, virginal Katara.”  

“Hey!” Katara yelps.

“I’m going to be honest with you, and it’s going to hurt. Like pap smear at the gyno hurt.” Katara nods, interest piqued. “Do you see you on his Instagram? Do you? Any posts, any tagging done when I know you took this photo of this overpriced matcha soy latte?” Suki tries her hardest not to break her tough girl role when she sees hersad fucking eyes. Why are they built like that? Like she could break her heart with just a watery glance? “Tell me, who do you see on Zuko’s Instagram and Snapchat?”

“Hotgirls,” she jumbles the words in her haste.

“Louder!” Suki shouts.

“ Hot. Girls. ” she admitted defeat. Toph strokes her hair gently to try to comfort her.

“That’s the thing with guys like Zuko, ok? They want the hottest girls on campus to suck and fuck, but they’re even more cruel with girls like you. Girls who are meant for dating to marry and cute gender reveal parties and pastels and shit. He knows that you guys aren’t meant to be together, the universe says so. But he’ll still play with your feelings because he likes pretending he deserves you. Pretending that in this world, girls like you and guys like him can be together and make it work.”

Katara’s jolting her head out of Toph’s lap in protest. “Well, what if I want to be a slut? What if I want to be the kind of girl that Zuko wants?” She was tired of being the cute girl who looks like she goes to volunteer at the community center regularly and is destined for some picket fence with a balding, accountant husband and loud, undisciplined kids. She wanted sex, hell she wanted to wear skimpy clothes without worrying what Zuko was going to think about how her tits looked, or if her pants showed enough of her ass to be considered hoe. Katara wanted the confidence of those girls Zuko would put on his social media, she wanted to be them. Being with Zuko felt like being with someone who got her, and she liked, hell loved the attention he gave her. As though she felt pretty, and not adorable. He was someone she just couldn’t get out of her head, someone that was so dangerous to her because she was feeling herself change for him. Is it wrong that she liked it? The way he called her gorgeous when he comes over, or how he lazily grinds against her ass when he’s half-asleep, hands on her hips grounding her.

Suki squeezes her chipmunk cheeks between her musty hands, and interrupts Katara’s protest about an acne breakout. “Even if you try changing everything about you to become exactly what he wants, do you really think he’s going to treat you the same when it isn’t on the down low?”

Ouch.

Suki’s honesty still stings, but it was the cold hard truth. She was willing to change herself, be someone for a guy promising her trips to Paris when he could never meet when the sun was up. Suki’s words hurt as bad as the dress Toph was squeezing you into. “You wanted slutty, I’m giving you waist trainer, Insta model slutty!” She had convinced Katara to go on a date with some guy who was “perfect” for her. Code for boring, she was sure of it. Probably an engineering major who didn’t know how Twitter worked.

Even with all of Toph’s efforts, Katara decided all the shapewear in the world wasn’t going to contain her “post depression ice cream for all three meals” belly.  So, she decided to keep it simple with her “knock-off Ariana” outfit as she calls it. Pairing just a pair of thigh high boots with a long sweatshirt.

“Look, I know you secretly get off to the thrill of dating a lame drug dealer, knowing the cops could bust down your door and cause a scene at your apartment. I know you live for the drama. But I promise, this guy will be good for you. Let’s just have fun for one night. Please put the dress back on? I know you haven’t washed that hoodie in a week,” Toph pleads with Katara.

She just rolled her eyes while Toph reapplied a layer of gloss to Katara’s lips. Deep down, she just knew in her heart there was no getting over Zuko. At least immediately. But, it didn’t hurt that Jet was cute, harmless fun.  He was taking her out to a diner near her apartment, frequented by students at their college deluded by the aesthetic photo ops, and not too concerned about how the restaurant was serving up microwaved Mac n cheese. He showed up looking exactly like his Instagram photos and in a well ironed H&M button up. She could feel Toph hiding behind her futon, snapping clandestine photos for Suki, who was in the bathroom with the Taco Bell shits.  

“ How dare you?! ” Jet screeches, dropping a cold fry in disbelief. “You’ve never watched anime?”

“Ok, a scream was not what I was expecting. I just asked if Teen Titans counted. Sue me.” Katara’s laughing, and hates to admit that it was fun being with Jet. He’s nerdy and sweet and most importantly so, so tall. A good guy.

“It doesn’t! ” he huffs petulantly.

Katara juts out her lip. “How can you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm. I guess a second date. Maybe an anime sesh will have to do. Your place, and we’re pulling an all nighter.”

“Why not your place?” she questions.

“I live in a living room, and I don’t have a mattress. But why not? My place it is!” His aggressive thumbs up makes her laugh so hard it sends her into a choking fit.

“So, we’re watching Teen Titans first, right?” she teases, pounding at her chest to stop the coughs.

His smile reaches his eyes. “You know, I was kinda scared going out with you tonight. No offense, but you have, like, no pictures on your social media. All Toph promised me was ‘you’re really pretty and heartbroken as well. ’ And, not to try to win any brownie points on this date, but I have to agree, you’re really pretty.” Katara rolls her eyes, and he blushes.

“I was expecting something along the lines of ‘ Goddess like,’ but I guess ‘really pretty’ works, too.” She’s laughing along with his obnoxious giggles, and she feels almost lighthearted. Not quite ready to fall in love again, but considering the possibility. “Let me guess, she cheated on you?”

“Worse. Walked in on her with...drumroll please!” Katara lightly began drumming her fingers on the dining table. “You guessed it! My brother!” he sheepishly admits, bringing out the jazz hands and everything to emphasize his point.

She audibly gasps. “That’s some Kdrama shit right there! Please tell me you started a fist fight with him, kicked a nut or two.”

“Nah, I had an essay due. No time for that shit, you know? I just shut the door, banged out my paper, and haven’t spoken to either of them in about four months.”

She takes a sip of her milkshake. “That’s healthy!” Jet tilts his shake in Katara’s direction in agreement, before taking a long gulp from the cup.

He quirks a perfectly shaped brow towards her. “So, let me guess. Your guy saved his side chick’s name as Chick-fil-a in his phone, you found out and tried to strangle him with his belt, and he pressed charges?”

“Oddly specific, but sadly no. Let’s just say he had the biggest heart. Big enough for bitches on the side as well.” Jet makes a grunt in disapproval. “It wasn’t like I could be mad, anyways. We weren’t in anything official. But it felt like it could’ve been something, you know?”

It was like an unspoken agreement, an energy that the two felt when they met each other. A “my heart was just shattered into a billion pieces but hopefully a rebound will lessen the pain just for two hours tonight” kind of vibe. It felt good with Jet, like the two of you guys had known each other forever. He serves her with corny joke after joke, and she lets herself laugh. She hated being around men, and besides, Sokka threatened any that even made eye contact with her  for longer than 20 seconds. Aside from Sokka, Zuko, and Aang, the kid she babysat, Katara was afraid to let any other men in her life. Three was already enough emotional labor.

They both go out for boba afterwards, and Jet makes sure to pay for their drinksand then drop his change into the tip jar. He knows that Katara swoons immediately. It always works. That’s why 30 minutes later, she’s slamming him into her futon. Soon after, he’s shirtless, pressing at her core with impatient fingers. She’s grinding helplessly in his lap, his moans egging her on. He insisted she keep the boots on.

“I was not raised to leave my shoes on in the house. That’s just vile ,” she protested. Jet silences her with a gentle kiss, and a press of his throbbing cock against her.

“Please, baby. Make an exception for me tonight,” he whispers against her lips. Her shorts and underwear are suddenly missing. When the fuck did he do that? She’s dizzy and horny and so full when he starts fingering her. His fingers so fucking long and is making her whimper and ready to have his kids. She closes her eyes because staring at Jet’s fucked out ones made her want to combust. She was focusing on the feeling of being stuffed while trying to tamp down on the fear of losing her virginity, because that seemed like the logical course of action with how the night was playing out. Damnit, what if it hurts like a pap smear ? She thinks pathetically. In the middle of all her inner monologues, she’s suddenly shoved off of Jet’s warm body, tumbling on the ground. She opens her eyes to see Zuko pummeling Jet to a pulp.

“Not the face, Zuko! Not the fucking face! He’s too pretty for this!” Katara yelps, shoving Zuko’s muscular frame off of Jet. Jet sends her a sad smile before slipping his shirt over his head and heading out the door.

She’s fuming, too angry, too confused. “What the fuck was that ?” She’s at maximum screech levels tonight, much to her neighbor’s dismay.

“You tell me!” Zuko cards his hands through his hair. “You’re fucking some other guy? Don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Katara. But this,” he gestures between the two of them. “Did you forget about us? Forget about me? What the fuck?”  

“Hold up, Walter White.” She’s sticking a hand out in his face. “We are a situationship, at best. Don’t you dare accuse me of whoring around when we aren’t even official.”

“I thought what we had, what we were...I don’t know? It’s different,” Zuko rubs at his neck awkwardly. “Did you not feel the same way? Why do you care about all these labels all of a sudden? Why didn’t you fucking tell me you wanted us to make it official?”

“It’s because you’re supposed to know! You’re supposed to know that I hate what you do, that I hate loving you, because it hurts me.”

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

“Bullshit!” he howls.

“You need to tip at least 20%!”

“Katara.” He takes a deep breath in. “Why don’t we just make this official?”

She’s worrying at her lip. Trying desperately to remember the breathing exercises her therapist had recommended before she started crying and did something crazy like suck his dick because he looked hot when he was angry. “Zuko, as much as you’d like to keep pretending that we could ever be a thing, I can’t. I can’t keep holding onto this fucking unrealistic dream. These unrealistic expectations! What do you want me to do? Pray for the day you get bored of dealing or hanging out with the rich kids or making out with sorority girls so you could come back to me at night? Because I’m fucking pathetic and let you back every single time?”

She sees him spluttering, trying to desperately hold onto a solid response that could sway her decision. “Katara, you know how much I care about you. But you would never get it! You would never get someone like me!”

She scoffs. “Try me. What don’t I get about you, Zuko?”

“That being with those people, and dealing makes me feel like more than just a poor kid with no parents and no fucking future.” Zuko huffs out the confession as though he was holding it in for a millenium.

“I get it, ok I understand but-”

Zuko steps back from her, as though she’s slapped him straight across the face. “No, Katara. You don’t. You don’t fucking get it. You get to cosplay as poor. Pretend that you have to budget when Sokka could easily handle everything if things go wrong.”

Katara’s angry, angry at herself. For hurting Zuko with her careless words, for looking so fucking stupid. “Ok, fine. You’re right.” She surprises even herself at her confession. "I don’t get it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be fucking worried about you? That I’m terrified about what could go wrong? One wrong move and you could fucking die! You think the dean is going to let any of those rich assholes take the fall for anything? No, they’re going to blame it on the disposable kid on Financial Aid,” she wails at the top of her lungs.

She searches his eyes for any understanding, for any reaction to what she was saying. His jaw is set in a determined look, the kind of look she knew was unwavering, was unable to be changed no matter what. She sucks in a breath of air, praying for any sort of strength. “How about you do you, and I do me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Zuko squeezes out. He’s rushing out the door, slamming it on his way out.

//

“I knew I could smell the cock on you! You rode that dick like a stolen car, didn’t you?” Suki bellows, cackling.

“Please, I will fucking block you,” Katara wearily threatens, without any might behind it. She’s, predictably, in one of Zuko’s old t shirts from when he played soccer in high school, slapping on moisturizer before she could retire to bed. “Zuko stopped anything from happening when he came in and went 'New York after Hottie said she looked like Beyonce' on his ass.

Toph grunts over the line. “So what’s the deal with you guys? He’s dealing you drugs and dick now? You’re fucking the weed man for weed? Or are you fucking the dick man for dick? At least you’re not fucking the tweet man for tweets.”

Katara pauses in patting in the cream on her face. “How does this make any sense to you? Like do you not hear yourself speak?”

“It makes perfect sense to me, slut.”

Suki jumps in before low blows could be dealt and the girls start making fun of each others foundation not matching. “You know what, I bet Zuko’s selling whole ass cilantro and/or oregano and no one says anything because he’s fine.”

Katara pauses in applying her lip balm, a call from Zuko popping up threatening to end her call with her girls. “Zuko’s calling?” she questions.

“This late?” Toph is in between bites of her pepperoni Hot Pocket.

Suki sighs. “Listen, Katara. Girls don’t win when it comes to love, we never win. Maybe you should take a break from all this Zuko mess, and I don’t know. Pick up a hobby. Go back to therapy.”

But Katara knew something was wrong. She could sense it, just feel it inside her. Something was inherently wrong. As though the universe was whispering this to her, pleading with her to listen. “I’ll call you guys back, ok?”

“This is the future Stephanie Meyer wanted. For girls to be pathetically in love with pale, emo guys,” Toph miserably whimpers after Katara leaves their call.

Katara heart felt like it could fall out of her ass and then jump back in her mouth with how loudly it was beating. She’s running, clad in only the t shirt and her slides. They were threatening to slip off at any second from how fast her feet were forcing them to pound at the pavement. Word of the wise, don’t fucking run in slides.

“Don’t fucking hurt him!” She screams, expandable baton whipped out and ready to pummel any bitch dumb enough to hurt Zuko while she’s around. A few guys were standing around Zuko’s limp body, about to lay another painful blow against his bruised visage when she starts wildly beating them with her baton. She’s shrieking at the top of her lungs, scaring them enough for all of them to disperse. They all ran off before they had to deal with whatever the fuck Katara was doing. Crazy wasn’t in their agenda that night, only beating up good looking dealers.

“Oh, Zuko.” Katara immediately lets go of the weapon, dropping down to her knees to look at him.

Turns out, everyone wants a shot at the king.

She sits herself down and gently cradles Zuko’s head in between her hands before placing it in her lap. He closes his eyes and musters the strength to give her a small smile.

“Thank you, Katara.” She’s trying her best to hold back her tears. The gravel is scraping unforgivably against her legs, the cold causing her throat to begin to itch. She’s shivering as she types in “911.”

Zuko lifts a battered arm to swat quickly at her fingers. “Can we just Uber to the hospital? I don’t want to drop two racks on an ambulance.”

“Zuko!” Katara squeals. It works, he’s got her to smile in spite of all the drama, all the tears. It’s so easy for them to be like this together. Just enjoying the moment, just being themselves. “You know, I’m sorry for ever saying you look like an angry snake. You still do, but I’m sorry.”

“I hate you,” he says without any commitment to the spite.

“You don’t.”

“I know.” He lets her finish ordering the Uber before speaking again. “I love you.”

She runs her fingers in his hair. “I know.”

“Say it back, please?” He has the audacity to pout despite being beaten nearly half to death.

“I’m scared,” she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with his intense gaze.

“I know.”

//

“Zuko! What happened?” Iroh’s running as fast as he can, still clad in his sleepwear. He sees the pretty girl that the nurses warned has refused to leave the boy’s side for the past few hours, never letting go of his hand. She’s even had the gall to snap the nurses who would show up to their shift a few minutes late.

He sees his nephew rub comforting circles in the girls’ hand with his thumb, looking at her before he could make eye contact with his uncle. Right when he’s about to say something, he’s interrupted.

“He was protecting me. We were walking in a bad part of town because I really wanted to get ice cream, and...we got mugged.” She finishes lamely, whispering the last few words. “They hit him first and then were trying to steal my purse. They got even more mad when he started yelling ‘don’t hurt her!’ He jumped in front of me before they could do anything.”

The two share a look and a smile. Zuko’s grip on Katara’s hand grows impossibly tigther.

[yeet-or-be-hawed]

“Lost and Found” Arthur Morgan x Reader

Fluff

This was another request for @shewalksinanotherworld! Thank you guys for being so patient with me, I’ve had major writer’s block the last few days but now I’m back full swing! 

After getting separated from the gang, the reader has to learn to fend for themselves and survive on their own. Arthur thought you had died in a shootout, so boy was he in for a surprise when he sees a familiar horse in Rhodes!

You cursed the sun as you rode into Rhodes, the air was dry and hot and the dust caked your lungs. You were used to living it rough, but you were used to living it rough with others. Since you got separated from your gang, it’s been nothing but hardships one after the other. You tried so hard not to blame the others. You tried not to let it harden your heart. You tried to tell yourself there was a good reason they didn’t come back for you, or even attempt to send you a letter. Unfortunately you could only try for so long and being left alone with your own thoughts only made it easier for you to abandon hope and replace with with anger. How dare they just leave you behind like that? How dare they never even try to let you know their location? Something always nagged at you in the back of your head, told you you weren’t special and no one cared. It’s why your mama and daddy left you in the streets to starve. It’s why the orphanage was more than willing to throw you out on the streets when they became too overpopulated. And it’s why the people you came to call family picked up and left you without a trace. It didn’t bother you though, you told yourself. You came to terms with the fact you would be alone forever long ago. 

You dismounted your horse in front of the butcher. 

“Ah, hello young lady. You must be new to these parts, I ain’t seen you before!”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I been sellin’ to you the last three months, Eddie.”

the man became flustered and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly as you u loaded your hunt onto the butcher’s table.

An awkward silence fell between you as he handed you your cash. After you collected, you headed over to the saloon. It didn’t take you long to spend the money you had just received on whiskey and fried catfish.

“...suspicious lookin’ group down by the lake.”

“Saw one of em ridin’ through town yesterday, looked like a mean son of a bitch. Best leave em be till they move on.” 

The conversation faded out as the two men left the saloon. You made a mental note to keep your eyes peeled, just in case they were bounty hunters. There seemed to be more and more damned flesh hunters every year. You waved to the bartender, “One more down here good sir.”

“Comin’ right up!”

He placed the shot in front of you and you knocked it back easily. “You reckon that group them men was talkin’ bout were bounty hunters?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at you suspiciously. “Nah, I don’t reckon so. The men and some of the women like to come into town every now and again. One of ‘em actually asked me about bounty hunters the first time he came in though. Seem like a nice crowd, said the factory they all worked for up North shut down. ”

You nodded. “Thanks.” You placed a tip on the table and turned out the door. As you headed towards the sheriff’s office, you lowered your hat over your face and pulled your hair out of its normal braid. “Afternoon.” You said plainly to the man sitting in behind the desk. 

“Mornin’.” The man slurred. You rolled your eyes, this sheriff was no more a threat than the hound dog sniffing around the saloon.

Your eyes studied the board of bounty posters. Your own was there and you grabbed it quickly. You’d have to remember to burn it later. When you removed it, something grabbed your eye. There were layers of bounty posters on the cork board, and sticking out two layers behind you could see AR for the first name and M for the last name. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” You whispered as you pulled out the wanted poster. There he was, a ghost from your past. “WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE. ARTHUR MORGAN, LAST SEEN IN VALENTINE. ASSOCIATES ALSO WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE: DUTCH VAN DER LINDE, HOSEA MATTHEWS, JOHN MARSTON, MICAH BELL. ANY ACCOMPANYING PERSONS WILL BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR AIDING AND ABETTING.”

He looked handsome as ever, even in some shitty drawing. Your first thought was, Arthur could’ve drawn himself so much better. Your second thought was, burn in hell, Morgan. You crumpled up the wanted poster in your hand and stuffed it in your bag. You had half a mind to leave it up, fuck all of them, they could rot for all you cared. They left you, he left you. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Arthur’s betrayal (or what you considered betrayal) cut you deeper than any of the rest. He was your closest friend in the Van Der Linde Gang, and even though you would never say it, you were hoping to make things more intimate between you two, and sometimes you felt like Arthur wanted the same. But that was a long time ago, before they up and left you in Blackwater. No food, no shelter, they even took your tent. All you had was the clothes on your body and the supplies you had on your horse. Arthur never once sent you a letter; you went to the post office every day, sometimes multiple times a day, hoping for a letter from Tacitus Killgore but it never came. You kept your old alias at the post just in case. That was what burned you the deepest. There were so many opportunities to reach out, and none of them did, not even Arthur. 

You decided you would burn his bounty poster along with yours. If any of the others had bounty posters, they could deal with it on their own. Maybe one day Arthur will know your pain of having hisfamily uprooted and left on his own without a trace. You decided that would be a worse fate than being found by bountymen.

You felt tired as you mounted your horse, as if your body was being dragged down by weights. You sighed heavily and gave him a pat. “Come on boy, lets get back home.” With a dig of spurs, the horse sped down the trail. 

Arthur cackled as Sadie read off Pearon’s letter in her best impersonation of him as they pulled off the slim trail from Clemen’s Point onto the main road leading into Rhodes. As he pulled out, a horse flew by them like a bullet. Long hair trailed behind the rider’s head and time stood still. He was almost certain that was who he thought it was, but that was impossible. Dutch said she died in the shootout at Blackwater. His eyes followed horse until it disappeared. All in all no more than ten seconds had passed but to Arthur it seemed like he watched that horse for hours. 

“Well, come on then let’s go!” Sadie said impatiently. 

Arthur sighed and gave the reins a pull. He was in a daze of his own thoughts the rest of the day and for the first time in months, your ghost returned to him in his dreams that night.

Arthur brought the brim of his hat farther over his eyes as he walked down the steps of the gun shop. He could tolerate most anything, but this dry dusty air was getting real old real quick. He gave his horse a good pat and a carrot, she deserved it. The horses around camp deserved more praise than what they got, or atleast Arthur seemed to think so. It must be just as hard on them all this moving as it is for everyone else. “Yer a good ol girl.” He cooed softly. He mounted effortlessly and took a slow pace down the main street of Rhodes. He wanted to whip the reins and tear through the middle of the street like a hell on a horse, but as a badged deputy, he had to maintain a low profile. Hosea and Dutch thought it was silly how serious he took it, he figured he was just doing his best to keep cover.

The horse caught his attention, an Appaloosa with a Leopard coat. It was so dirty, he could hardly distinguish the spots from the mud. Your hair was the next thing he saw. Big and poofy, no doubt from the humidity. When you turned, his heart stopped. “It’s you.” He said breathlessly.

You didn’t even hear anyone approach. When you turned to mount your horse, there he was. He was standing so the afternoon sun sent sunbeams dancing around him making him look like a blessing, but it felt like a curse. He looked too well, a new olive colored vest with golden accents hugged his chest and a crisp white shirt, so new it hadn’t developed sweat stains. His sleeves were rolled up as usual, you remembered him mentioning he hated how restricting full sleeves felt. You remembered secretly admiring the muscular arms he would leave exposed. He seemed a little beefier than you remembered and his beard was longer. You hated him for looking so good.

“I can’t believe it’s really you.” He said softly before pulling himself off his horse. He approached with a big grin, that bastard. He was met with a swift slap to the face.

The shock from your slap rippled throughout his entire body. Of all the reactions, this was the last one he expected. He rubbed the spot where you hit him. “What the hell was that for?” He hissed.

“That was for leaving me!” You half yelled. A couple people were already staring but you didn’t care. “I go hunting for a day and I come back to nothing. No letter, no explanation, no tent! You took my tent for Christ’s sake! I gave my all to you, to everyone and that’s how I’m repaid. Left for dead with nothing but the clothes on my back.” Arthur blinked. You were seething with anger, but your eyes were welling with tears. “You left me behind.” Your voice was suddenly soft and you looked at the ground. Arthur saw the tears fall into the dust. “You left me to die and didn’t even care.”

Arthur stammered, he had no idea what to say. “Dutch said-“

“What did Dutch say? I’m sure it sounded very heroic and made the decision very easy.”

“Dutch said you were dead!” Arthur finally snapped. “He told me you died in that shootout. I grieved over you, I cried for you.” His voice shook with emotion. He grabbed your wrist tight and when you looked him in the eyes, the raw intensity behind them scared you. “Had I thought there would’ve been the slimmest chance you were still alive, I would’ve fought to my last breath to find you.”

Arthur said more than he meant to say in a rush of overwhelming emotions and it took him aback when you looked at him with confusion. “What shootout?”

“Scuse me?”

“What shootout? Why did Dutch say I died?” You looked him dead in the eye and a pit formed in his stomach.

“I...I don’t know.” His grip around your wrists loosened as his eyes darted to and from your face. “Me and Hosea was plannin’ a job, but Micah and Dutch swore by this ferry job they was stakin’ out. I wasn’t with them, but somethin’ went south and the law showed up quick. We had to move out so fast we left everything expect the caravans and the horses. All that money, all my things, and I ain’t sure we can ever get back.”

You sighed. “I understand, that’s a lot to go through, but you didn’t think to try to reach out to me, even once? I been at the post office damn near every day waiting for something, anything from you!”

Arthur gave you a thin glare, “well I don’t remember gettin’ a letter from you, what’s yer excuse?”

You sputtered, it honestly hadn’t occurred to you. “I...well I was- you always tell us to be so careful! How was I supposed to know if Tacitus Killgore was still safe?”

He crossed his arms, he knew you well enough to know when you had been had. “And how was I supposed to know Marisol Fletcher was still safe?”

You huffed in frustration and refused to look him in the eye. “Yeah well, fair enough. That still don’t change the question: why did Dutch say I died in a gun fight I wasn’t even involved in?”

Arthur went quiet. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding. Dutch would never leave a gang member behind if he could help it. And what was the point in lying? To keep Arthur from returning to Blackwater for you? There had to be some reason for lying.

You took Arthur’s silence as an answer. It was apparent to you that even though you were alive, Dutch made it clear you weren’t apart of the gang any more. You cleared your throat and grabbed your horse’s reins. “It’s gettin’ late, I need to get back to camp.”

Arthur straightened up and whistled for his horse, she had a bad habit of wandering away. “C’mon, you can follow me. We ain’t too far from here.”

You shook your head as you mounted. “I mean my camp. I ain’t goin’ back, Arthur. I am very... happy to know you’re alive and okay, but Dutch has made up his mind. I’m dead to the gang now, I’m on my own.”

“That’s not-“

“But it is.” You looked over the horizon. “Come with me.”

“What?”

You were certain he heard you. You sighed, “never mind. That was a silly request, you’re as loyal as they come Arthur Morgan. Write me when you can, and I’ll always respond. Until then, Mr. Morgan.” With a snap of the reins, heavy hooves sent up a cloud of dust.

Arthur couldn’t decide if he was relieved or frightened by the sight of you today. His thoughts were in a whirlwind as he rode back to camp. Nothing about this made sense, nothing at all.

“Who’s there?” Bill called.

“Arthur, dumbass.” He rolled his eyes, who the hell else would it be? He didn’t even hitch his Arabian before jumping off and making a beeline for Dutch’s tent.

Dutch was sat on a crate just outside his tent puffing a cigar. He lifted a brow in Arthur’s direction as he approached. Dutch let out a thick puff of smoke and smiled, “Good afternoon, Arthur.”

Arthur tipped his hat, “Dutch.” He took a seat beside the older man and cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Ditched eyed Arthur uneasily, “sure son, what’s on your mind.”

“You remember the shootout in Blackwater?”

“Course I do.”

“Who all died? In the shootout I mean.”

“Ahhh...let’s see.” Dutch sat back and tilted his head up, Arthur thought he looked a bit theatrical. “Ol Davey was shot, but he died up in the mountains. Jenny got caught in the fire, the Calander boys, and Y/N was there too.”

“I thought she went out huntin’ that day.”

Dutch cleared his throat. “She did, she did. Returned in the middle of the chaos, her and that pretty horse a hers got shot I believe.”

There was a false note in his voice it was very faint, so faint had Arthur not been face to face with you just a coupla hours ago, he may not have caught it. His eyes slowly came up and met Dutch’s. “That’s strange.” He said slowly. “Because I just ran into her in Rhodes.”

Dutch’s cigar nearly fell out of his mouth as he stuttered and stumbled on his words. “That- I-.... are ya sure it was her?” His voice was steady, but Arthur could see the quick flare of panic in Dutch’s eye.

He crossed his arms and nodded. “Sure as the sun is high. Stopped and talked to her. She seemed quite upset we left her behind.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his cheek. “My cheek still stings from where she slapped me.” He paused and his tone was serious. “Did you see her and her horse get shot?”

Arthur could see the cogs moving in Dutch’s head. “No, I... I didn’t.”

“Then why? Why leave her there? Damn it Dutch we took everything she had with us! She coulda died!”

“What’s important is she’s alive now!” Dutch said hastily. “Did she have the money from Blackwater?”

“No. She said all she had was the clothes on her back and the supplies on her horse.”

Dutch’s eyes went dark as he stared off in space. “We don’t know that.” He said slowly then rose to his feet. “She coulda snuck back and stole everything we had waiting for us. Does she know where we are now?”

The look in Dutch’s eye was fierce, Arthur averted his gaze. “No, I offered to bring her back but she wouldn’t come.”

“Good.” Dutch nodded and paced. “We don’t need her comin’ back here and stealin’ the rest of what we got.”

“Come on Dutch, she ain’t like that. We both known her for years before we got separated, surely you got a little more faith in us than that.”

Dutch shook his head in frustration. “Now why else would she follow us here? Arthur my boy don’t you see? She’s greedy, she wants to take everything from us.” He turned toward Arthur and his eyes focused. “No contact with her, you hear me? Not even through the mail, you can’t trust the mail service any more.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Dutch, I think yer gettin’ paranoid in your old age. Why don’t we just meet up and-“

“No!” Dutch bellowed. “I said no contact. No letters, and certainly no meeting up and that is final.” He sighed and softened his voice as he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I know I’m being harsh, but I just want what’s best for us, for everybody. I know you miss her, but we can’t trust her anymore. Take comfort in knowing she’s alive. It’s more than what most of us have gotten from this life.”

Arthur watched Dutch’s back as he walked away. Was Dutch descending into a new madness or was Arthur following so blindly that he hadn’t noticed until now? He did not know.

-

Arthur groaned in frustration as he ripped the page from his journal and balled it up. Identical wads of paper littered the booth he sat in at the saloon. Writing was always something that came easily to him, until now.

Y/N,

I spoke to Dutch and

Rip! Crinkle crinkle. Let’s not start with that.

Dearest Y/N,

Rip! Dearest? Arthur flushed. Maybe too much. Crinkle crinkle.

Y/N,

He paused and sighed, he knew what he had to say but putting it into words was proving easier said than done. This is the last shot, after spending an hour writing unfinished letters, this is the last one just say what you have to say. He laid the pencil back to paper and stopped thinking.

I’ve missed your company terribly, so I am quite happy to be writing you this letter. Mary-Beth told me to tell you hello and send you her warmest regards. She cried when I told her you were alive, by the way. Don’t you know it’s rude to make women cry? I guess I can’t say too much, I’m not much of a gentleman myself. We didn’t get a chance to catch up when we spoke, I am curious as to where you have traveled and how you’ve kept yourself. I hope you faired better than us. After the whole Blackwater mess, we retreated up North and stayed in an abandoned mining town called Colter. We about starved to death waiting on the thaw, Davey did die, but from a bullet wound. Ol’ John Marston got attacked by wolves, he’s okay unfortunately just a bit uglier. A lotta bit uglier. Once the thaw came, we hit a train owned by Leviticus Cornwall. We didn’t know who the hell he was at the time, and what a mistake it was. Apparently he’s some big oil tycoon, he’s hired the Pinkerton Protection Agency just for us, ain’t we special? So between Pinkerton’s, bounty hunters, lawmen, and O’Driscolls, we’ve managed to find ourselves farther east than I’m comfortable with. In my opinion, we’re too close to civilization and people. Hosea agrees, he thinks if we keep up in this direction we’re gonna end up right in the jaws of their trap and I couldn’t agree more. Dutch is... well, Dutch is Dutch. He swears he’s got a plan to get us outta here, but instead of the West, he wants to go to the Philippines. Or was it Tahiti? Or maybe the Philippines are in Tahiti? To be honest, Dutch isn’t making a lot of sense these days. The day I saw you in town I confronted him about Blackwater. Dutch is a lot of things and a liar isn’t one of them, but I swear I could see his brain ticking like he was searching for answers he didn’t know. Things are changing, Y/N and things aren’t as simple as they used to be. Remember out in Nevada, it seems like we were just kids then. The group was so small, we were all so young. We were the best team for scams, weren’t we? Even managed to impress Hosea. It isn’t like that no more, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I know you said you aren’t coming back to the gang and I understand, but I hope you would be willing to spend some time with an old friend. If you’re still around Rhodes, you should meet me at the saloon sometime for a drink. I look forward to your letter and hope to see you again soon, I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

Yours, Arthur

Arthur cringed at the last line, it didn’t sound as foolish in his head as it read on paper. He debated crinkling it in a ball and restarting but that was a page and a half worth of writing! He sighed heavily and carefully ripped the pages from his journal and folded them neatly. He would need a new alias, one no one else in camp would know. After a moment of thought, he signed the envelope as Morgan Callahan.

-

The morning fog rolled over the lake and refracted the morning sunlight over the waves of the shore. The morning air was thick and soupy, you could already feel your hair sticking to the back of your neck. You wiped your brow as you put on your boots and began the day. This wouldn’t be such a terrible place to stay if it wasn’t so damn humid all the time. Iron Flat Lake was teeming with life, both underwater and around its shores. The woods surrounding the lake were flourishing with wildlife. In the three months you had been staying here, you were able to gain a few pounds and keep a low profile. You kept your head low after Blackwater, being part of a gang was the biggest advantage to evading the law and without it you were left vulnerable; you adapted in response. You were an outlaw turned outdoorsman, you traded in your repeater for a bow and replaced blood lust with the thrill of the hunt.

After pulling on your day clothes and your boots, you began your daily routine. First, you check your nets that you had set the night before. You frowned down at the single bass flopping in the tangle of nets. Usually the yield was higher, but one fish is enough for breakfast so it was all you needed. After breakfast, it’s time to kill the fire and take down the tent. Your spot was safe, but paranoia isn’t always a bad thing when you’re on the run, never such thing as too safe. The next step of the day is one that you almost cut out completely- checking the mail. The mid morning sun was warming the thick air as you came into Rhodes.

“Got anything for Marisol Fletcher?”

“Yes actually,” you looked up in surprise, you hadn’t had anything in weeks. You had to close your slack jaw when the postman turned back to you and handed you an envelope. “Here you are.”

You gave him a bright smile and a nod. “Thank you very much!”

You sat at the bench in the shade as you inspected the parcel. You didn’t recognize the name, Morgan Callahan? But you recognized the handwriting immediately. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your face as you read over Arthur’s beautiful handwriting. You forgot how eloquently he wrote, you could almost hear his voice reading you the words. The pages had a slight leather scent, they must’ve came from his journal. A memory of him sitting against his caravan lost in his drawings came into your mind. As you finished the letter, you reread the last sentence over and over. I miss your company more than I’d like to admit.

How just like Arthur, it brought back so many confusing memories. Late night conversations where you could swear you saw his eyes linger on your lips, small moments in saloons after he’s had too many drinks and he’d get a little handsy but never in a disrespectful manor. But with all these little things came awkward next mornings where he wouldn’t look at you, claim to drink too much to remember what had happened the night before, and don’t even get started with the whole Mary situation. This man confuses you to no end with his wishy washy behavior. You sighed, was he wishy washy or were you just desperate to read into things? Maybe you just imagined his eyes lingering on your lips, maybe you took his touches too seriously. Maybe you wanted more from your relationship with him than he wanted. There was no maybe on that one, but you shook your head to yourself. You saw how Arthur loves a woman first hand, you were there every step of the way from the time he first met Mary until she rejected his proposal. That was the one night you had seen Arthur cry, and it was the most heartbreaking thing you’d ever seen in your life. So yes, you knew how Arthur loved and no, it was not intended for you.

You pushed yourself off the bench and into the crowded saloon. Your eyes searched for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. You were a little relieved, after so long you had forgotten how to hide how flustered he made you. You pulled the stolen stationary paper from your satchel and began to write.

Dear Arthur,

I have missed you also, as well as everyone else in the gang. Tell Mary-Beth I was elated to hear from her and hope all is well for her. Honestly Arthur, who hasn’t heard of Leviticus Cornwall these days? That surely was a mistake. I stayed in Blackwater for a couple of weeks in case you all came back but not only did you have wanted posters everywhere, the place was also crawling with bounty hunters. I heard some of them got Sean, I tried tracking him down but the trail went cold after a few days. After that, I was everywhere and nowhere. I survived off the land, really survived. I thought what we was doing as a gang was surviving but boy was I wrong. Having a group that size is a privilege you don’t know you have until it’s gone. With more and more bounty hunters popping up, I had to lay low. You’d be proud, Arthur I haven’t committed a crime worse than pickpocketing since we were separated. I’ve mostly just made money by hunting and fishing, I’ll pick up odd jobs where I can. For the most part it’s just been me and Ol’ Cow. He’s still fit as a fiddle, still wouldn’t trade him in for the world. Tell Marston I’m sorry to hear about his unfortunate face, maybe it will humble him up a bit. As far as Dutch goes, well maybe I shouldn’t go there as to keep conversation friendly. Don’t trust him Arthur, that man is a snake. I know he and Hosea raised you, raised us, but people change and not always for the best. Keep that in mind in your travels, and get the hell out of there the moment you notice anything fishy. You’re right, the world has changed and it isn’t so simple anymore. Civilization isn’t the cause of corruption, it’s the spawn of it. At the end of the day, there’s only one cause of corruption and that’s people. As for me, I’m currently camping out on Iron Bed Lake so I’m not far from Rhodes at all. I usually stop in the saloon in the evenings for a drink and some supper, that would be the easiest time to catch me. Maybe I’ll show you where camp is, your company is welcome anytime. I look forward to your company as always.

Yours, Y/N

You frowned at the ‘yours’. You always just signed, but it felt natural to mirror Arthur’s closing. As you folded the letter, you wondered when you would get to see him again. You pushed down the blossoming hope that it would be soon.

-

Arthur read the parcel just outside the post office, he told himself he didn’t want to risk getting caught but that didn’t explain the excitement he felt as he tore open the envelope. His heart felt heavy as he read your letter, you had lived so hard on your own and he had no idea you were even out there. It was hard for him to remember what it was like to be on his own before he met Dutch and Hosea. It had been so long, he honestly couldn’t recall. But, to live roughly you looked good, he thought. He smiled at the pages, he had forgotten the silly name you gave to your horse. It brought back the memory of the day you bought him from the stables. He spent two days trying to give you better names, what kind of name is Cow for a horse? He would ask. You would shrug as you patted his pink nose and say that it was a good name for a good horse and that was that. If anyone was more stubborn than him, it was you. He looked up at the sky as he finished the letter, the sun was already behind the trees. Perfect timing, he thought to himself as he whistled for his horse. The saloon wasn’t far at all, but Arthur wasn’t a patient man.

When he entered the saloon, his eyes darted across every face until they landed on a familiar black hat at the bar. He straightened himself and tugged at his vest self consciously, he wished he would’ve taken a bath first. He cleared his throat. “Ma’am.”

When you turned, Arthur was able to get a good look at you. Even through the humidity, your hair was still shiny and vibrant, the color hadn’t dulled a day since Blackwater. You had had a bath recently, your skin was clean and he could clearly see the freckles that dotted your cheeks. The sun had spotted new freckles since he had last seen you, now sitting around your lips and chin. Your sleeves were rolled up to reveal arms that were much more muscular than they were before. Even through the thin material of your shirt he could see the muscles in your back and shoulders. He tried to recall a more beautiful sight and was lost for words. When your lips curled into a smile, he felt a familiar heat in his cheeks. “Hello Arthur, have a seat.”

He nodded and obliged. Why was he so damn nervous all of a sudden? He started to speak and his mouth was terribly dry. He cleared his throat and waved over the bar tender. “So,” he stared at the ground as he spoke. “What kinda work you been doin’ in a run down town like this?”

You took a sip of your beer. “Mostly just handy work. Helped a feller patch his roof this mornin’.”

He smiled and his eyes flickered back to your muscular shoulders. “Well, ain’t you just a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, gotta do whatcha can to survive.” You smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Plus, I kinda like helpin’ people now.”

Arthur raised a brow towards you, “so you went from robbin’ and killin’ folks go helpin’ em around the house, huh?” He laughed. “Good on ya, ya got out.”

“Huh?”

He looked at you. “Ya got out, out of the outlaw game. Look at you now, a regular citizen.”

You frowned into your mug. “It weren’t my choice.”

“I’m sorry that wasn’t-“ he stuttered.

You sighed and gave him a smile. To him it looked terribly sad. “It’s okay, really. I know it ain’t your fault. I do miss it, more often than I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I guess I just miss havin’ a family. And people who care.”

“You can have a family outside the gang, ya know.” The bartender sat a beer in front of Arthur and he took a swig. “Hosea tried it for a few years.”

You barked a short laugh. “And who would have me? Look at me, I’m a beat up, rough nobody. Ain’t no man gonna want me.”

Arthur’s heart lurched, he fought the urge to put his hand on yours. Is this what he sounded like when he put himself down? It all sounded so ridiculous to him. “You don’t know that.” He said softly.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he looked at you. Your eyes were far away and a small smile was on your face. “I do, but thank you anyways.”

As evening shifted into night, one beer turned to two, which turned to five. The saloon was in full swing, every booth full of patrons and the saloon girls were fliting around like fireflies in July. A jolly tune was coming from the piano and the chaotic noise of drunk men but all you could hear was Arthur’s bubbling laughter. His cheeks were a bright red from the booze and he wore a lazy smile. He said something, but it was so slurred together in an incoherent mumble.

“What’d you say?”

He leaned in close to your ear and you felt his beard hair prickle against your skin. “I said, let’s get outta here.” His Breath was hot and you were glad he didn’t feel you tremble. You nodded and he took your hand and led you out into the street. The saloon was the only building with lights still on and the chaotic noise was muffled in the night. The crickets chirped as the two of you stumbled down Main Street.

Arthur still had your hand in his big palm, half dragging you along as you sang obnoxiously into the night. Arthur was carefully paying attention to the ground under him, but you were not. You stumbled over a rock and began to fall forward, but you were caught by two heavy hands on your waist. “Careful.” He laughed.

You giggled drunkenly and when you lifted your head to look at him, his face was inches from yours. Even with your vision spinning, you could Arthur’s eyes on your lips, when he met your eyes, there was something behind them you had never seen. After a moment, he cleared his throat and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your waist and you leaned into his shoulder as you smiled up to him, “thanks Artie.”

Arthur spurted and laughed heartily. “Artie?” He wipes a tear from his eye and laughed again. “Is that what yer callin’ me now?”

You laughed with him, the movement caused the two of you to sway. “Naw, I just thought it was cute.” Your finger came up and bopped him on the nose.

“You’re cute.” Arthur blurted. As soon as it left his lips he could’ve smacked himself. What a fool he was.

You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, “not as cute as you.”

Arthur’s vision was blurry but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. He swallowed hard, this was too much. He cleared his throat. “Where’s your camp?” He looked around and almost lost his balance. “Wheres the horses?” He slurred.

You laughed and slumped against a near by bench. “Who knows?” You fell into a fit of drunken giddy giggles.

Arthur plopped down beside you and slunk an arm around your shoulders. He smiled to himself as you curled up against his chest. “I’ve missed you.” You mumbled.

Arthur couldn’t tell if the heat in his cheeks was from the booze anymore. “I...I missed you too.”

When you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, he swore he could see whole worlds reflecting back at him. “Wanna know a secret?” You whispered.

He gulped. “Sure.”

With the most straight face you could manage you said, “I’m going to throw up.”

And with the most grace and poise Arthur has ever seen in a drunk person, you stood up, turned away from him, and vomited. He rolled his eyes and stood shakily. He put a hand on your back-for your support and his- and pulled your hair back with the other. “S’okay,” he whispered. “I gotcha.”

You cleared your throat and wiped your mouth as you turned to Arthur. “I think” you slurred. “It’s time for night night.”

Arthur laughed and whistled for his horse. She must not have been far, she came around the corner immediately. Arthur used her as support as he helped you up and then pulled himself up clumsily. He almost pulled you down as he mounted and the two of you fell into another laughing fit after you helped him up. “Okay okay,” He said as he tried to contain his laughter. “Where you stayin’ at?”

You leaned back against him and pointed lazily. “Jus’ go that way for a minute, I’ll tell ya where to go.”

With your best attempts of directions, the two of you finally made it back to camp and there your loyal steed was, waiting at camp without you. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered. “I’m too drunk to set up a tent.”

Arthur pulled his bedroll from his horse. “Sky’s clear, it shouldn’t rain tonight. We should be fine sleepin’ under the stars.”

You hadn’t even unpacked your bedroll before tumbling to the ground and resting against an old log.

Arthur laughed, “you sure you don’t want somethin’ more comfortable than the ground?”

You didn’t hear him, you were out.

-

When you woke up the next morning, your head felt like it had been smashed against a rock. You groaned as you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Mornin’.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin and let out a small scream as you opened your eyes. When they focused on Arthur you groaned. “Jesus Arthur, you about gave me a heart attack. Ain’t used to havin’ other people around.”

He handed you a cup of coffee as you stretched. “Sorry bout that, didn’t want to wake ya.”

You scratched your head and closed your eyes as you sipped from your coffee. “Ugh, I feel like hell.”

Arthur chuckled. “Drink up, that should help. You should probably eat something too.”

You nodded and groaned in agreement as you stood up. “Christ,” You said as you walked over to check the nets. “How much did we drink last night? I lost count.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t count.”

As you pulled the net in, your arms ached in disagreement. Arthur stood up quickly, “need some help?”

You let go with one hand to do a shooing motion and went back to pulling it in. “I got it.”

The net was much more successful this morning, yielding three smallmouth bass and two largemouth bass. You smiled triumphantly. “Did someone say breakfast?”

You ate together in silence, Arthur contemplated bringing you back to camp, how mad could Dutch really get? You had something different on your mind. Through your hungover haze, little flashes were coming back. Arthur holding your hand, the way his lips brushed your ear, the way his beard felt against your skin, his arm around your waist. His presence was unearthing so many buried emotions it was starting to get overwhelming. He was the first to speak. “Do you plan on doin’ this forever?”

“Doin’ what?” You turned to look at him and he was staring at the ground.

He turned to you. “Doin’ this, livin’ on your own. Are you not lonely?”

You frowned. “Course I get lonely, but where else am I gonna go?”

“Come with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He stood. “Come back to camp, come back to the gang! We all miss you like crazy, and Dutch, well Dutch can deal with it.” He took your hands in his and pulled you up from the ground so quickly you almost lost your balance. His gaze was so intense on you you had to look away.

“Arthur, Dutch ain’t gonna just let me waltz back in. And like I said, I don’t trust that man. I can’t trust him farther than I can throw him and as much as I-“ you caught yourself as sighed. “As much as I...care about you-about all of you, I can’t trust that man with my safety and well-being.”

“Trust me then.” You looked up at him and he caught your cheek in his hand. “Trust me with your safety and your well-being. Let me take care of you.”

Your chest seized and it was hard to breathe. “Arthur I...”

He suddenly looked sad and pulled away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“

You cut him off as he began to turn away by grabbing his face and pulling it down to yours. Your lips were on his and before he could react, they were gone. You couldn’t look up at his face, you couldn’t handle the rejection. “Arthur, I care about you entirely too much for my own good. I need to go.”

Arthur was frozen in shock, he could still feel the ghost of your lips on his. As you turned to your horse, he felt the panic slip in, he lost you once and he didn’t want to lose you again. He caught your wrist and when you turned to look at him he looked desperate, afraid, and devistatingly handsome. “Don’t go. Don’t make me go without you again, I ain’t strong enough. You don’t gotta come back with me, just stay with me.”

“I...oh Arthur, you know I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He wrapped his big arms around your waist and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed. “What are ya gonna tell Dutch?”

He buried his face into your neck and you felt him inhale. “I ain’t gotta tell him a thing.”

You rolled your eyes and relaxed in his embrace. “You silly, silly man.”

[silver-lily-louise]

Shadowhunters Rewatch!  Episode 1x02: The Descent into Hell isn’t Easy

- The descent into hell isn’t easy but it’s easiER when you have cramps and there’s a plumber opposite your bedroom again lmao Let’s do this

- Damn Jace no need to be RUDE

- I really love the dilapidated church cover thing btw

- See the tech was something that bothered my sister about the series, she preferred the more medieval feel of the first book and movie. Personally I love it lmao but then again I’m more of a sci fi nerd than her

- I totally forgot the misinformation thing they did after the revolt ew. What kind of coverup bullshit

- Lol early Sizzy moment #godbless

- I feel like this whole ‘runes on the floor will kill mundanes’ thing is underutilised in the future… may have to use it in a fic lol

- HA I forgot they made Izzy’s lack of cooking skills show-canon as well lol

- Additionally Alec’s character development is very interesting to me in a ‘wtf did Magnus see in s1 Alec’ kind of way, so I’m starting a separate list to try and track his motivations and biases and stances to see how they shift. Probably gonna do the same thing for Maryse bc I buy her redemption but I can’t quite pinpoint WHY I do (except my favourite thing is when people are nice to Magnus lmao)

- OH LOOK IT’S HODGE. FUCK U HODGE (ahem. Moving on)

- (Main shadowhunter squad looking around their parents) Isn’t there ANYONE HERE WHO WASN’T A FUCKING TERRORIST??? (Shh Louise we only know Jocelyn and Luke so far)

- Clary I get that you feel bad but apologising once was enough, Hodge is a big boy who can make his own decisions lol

- ‘What is a GI Joe’ lmao

- ‘No training and no plan gets you killed’ I think that’s interesting, because it speaks to Jace’s idea that as long as he trains hard enough and have a plan, things’ll work out.

- I thought it was pretty cold of Clary to seriously consider Jace’s ‘what if Dot is working for Valentine’ point, but then again LUKE has turned on her as far as she knows so I guess that’s a reasonable amount of suspicion

- Izzy looks so proud of herself aw bless

- ‘Jace is the ultimate protector’ oh no oh help I’m having smol-boy-Jace-Wayland-carving-himself-an-identity feelings

- I just noticed the runes drifting in the background of the UI all Matrix-style lol. Can u believe Shadowhunters tried to tell us that WARLOCKS were the #extra ones lmao

- ‘A little too much in my opinion’ imagine thinking Izzy is straight lol couldn’t be me

- ‘He’s in good hands with the boys’ oh POOR Simon XD

- LOOK at the connection between these two. I’m love them. Can u believe they were already kindred souls BEFORE becoming parabatai, truly beautiful

- oKAY canon divergence I want::: Simon leaving without a hitch, googling how to kill demons and FIGURING IT OUT. He comes back for Clary and now the gang have this mundane demon-killer on side lol, and Alec’s all like ‘he’s a fucking MUNDANE he can’t be here in Shadowhunter business learning secrets and getting himself killed’ and Izzy’s like ‘he killed four demons wtf you worried about bro???’

- Seelie scouts??? The Clave really will make a show of unity when it suits them huh

- They were KIDDING about the floor runes are you KIDDING me XD I figured it was just a continuity problem lmao (also I know they’re being dickheads but that little smirk between Jace and Alec is maybe the first time we properly see them as a brotherly team aha)

- Okay but with hindsight you can really tell this whole cold demeanour ISN’T Magnus. His mannerisms are SCREAMING ‘coping mechanism in a time of crisis’ rn

- That being said if Dot’s magic is dangerously low I bet he regretted leaving her behind alone and vulnerable, she’s a grown woman who can make her own choices but it’s kiiiind of a dick move especially since he entreated her with sarcasm instead of earnestness to try and convince her to come with

- It continues to be exceedingly funny that Pandemonium is never mentioned outside of S1, when it’s painted almost as Magnus’ MAIN job in that. I mean it kind of makes sense that we see his public face in this beginning and his more personal details later on – the warlock stuff, the clients and politics that are more ‘core’ to his job and identity – but still. Not even MENTIONED, I don’t think. XD

- All of them stepping out of the van… Scooby Doo vibes lol WHERE is my mystery-solving AU with these five???? Do I have to write all of my unvoiced fanfic ideas myself??? Unbelievable

- Clary talking about the void she felt… I’m not crying about 3x22 you are

- ‘Wasteful warlock life’ Valentine. My dude. She has CENTURIES to learn and love and travel and experience, and you’re wasting your handful of decades on racism But go off I guess lmao (loser)

- I know the liquid is bad but also there is a HUGE bubble in that syringe. Valentine how is she gonna be useful to you after a mahoosive stroke

- Random shot of the moon. I mean I love her but WHAT ‘Look it’s night-time!!!! Spooooooky!!!!’ XD

- Okay Izzy is halfway-smitten, lbr. She and Simon fit so well okay

- ‘I can’t be here anymore’ Listen s1 Alec is a serious, grumpy lil shit but he DOES have a sense of humour okay

- Jace LET THEM HUG :C

- ‘We carry it to remind us that light can be found in even the darkest of places’ Jace stfu it’s a TORCH X’D (Like, no disrespect to traditions in general, but that one just SMACKS of Clave Sanctimony lol, and by Jace’s next line he knows that aha)

- …Is Nephilim the dative??? I need to look that up lol. Also think it’s funny that Hell (in its various realms) is the one place Shadowhunters CAN’T go, re 3x21

- ‘You assume I have feelings’ Jace. Bro. You are perhaps the CRYINGEST CRIER IN THIS SHOW. Let go of the toxic masculinity friend, you’re gonna be nicer once you do <3

- I’m revisiting my earlier point: WHY ARE LITERALLY ALL OF THE PARENTS CIRCLE MEMBERS LMAO

- ‘No more I’m sorries, you’re a Shadowhunter now’ YIKES if that don’t say it all about Shadowhunter hubris lmao. Apologies are good and necessary <3

- RECOGNISED THE CLAIRVOYANCE RUNE, HIGHKEY PROUD OF MYSELF AHA

- Think how much less beautiful and adorable the Malec wedding would have been if Brother Zachariah looked like this kind of Coraline experiment gone wrong lmao

- I’m not always a fan of a flashback but that ‘you’re strong enough’ one definitely makes it seem less like Clary’s just being reckless aha

- ‘It’ ALEC STOP BEING SUCH A RUDE BITCH. Also I do love Sizzy but I definitely think Izzy needed to be in a less defensive position when they got together (re ‘he passes the time’, I don’t ACTUALLY care I’m just a heartbreaker out for a good time), I’m kind of glad they waited until her caring side had been more nourished instead of stifled

- SIMON. YOU SAID YOU HAVE SEEN HORROR MOVIES. WHY DID YOU PUT HEADPHONES ON

- ‘The night children have broken no laws’ Wait, so kidnapping a Mundane ISN’T against the law??? I mean I get Shadowhunters not being able to KILL them for it - …oh. OH. HANG ON. Are the Accords just to stop Shadowhunters KILLING Downworlders for the smallest of crimes???? Does Raphael mean ‘kidnapping no longer constitutes a capital punishment (like it did before)’??? Either this is a script issue (bc if Shadowhunters protect Mundanes, kidnapping one SHOULD be against the law) or a hint of just how fucked up the Accords are, that ‘the law’ isn’t the law how WE understand it but instead ‘things which are still valid excuses to severely punish Downworlders, when we used to do so willy-nilly’ :S

- Season tagline: ‘Everybody wants that damn cup!’ Valentine wants it to wield it, the Clave wants it APPARENTLY to protect people from Valentine, Luke hinted that the werewolves want it, now the vampires…. Damn.

 This one gets an 8/10 for enjoyment – I’m having fun! – and actually a 7/10 for quality. Not NEARLY as many script issues and cringe factors as in the first ep lol. Thanks for reading. ^^

[jawnjendes]

don’t want your hand this time | shawn mendes

chapter 1/?, university au, shawn x goth oc

AN: i know i know i posted a thing yesterday but UUUHHHHH im just tryna get to the saucy parts of this bc SOMEBODY decided to be all hot n sexy in a certain music video ANYWAY this is just an intro chapter of sorts and we are introducing some new characters!! lmk your thoughts thots!

***let me know if u wanna be added/removed from the taglist

masterlist | playlist coming soon

When Annalise Flores has shit to do within a time limit, she forgets about everything else. Her phone goes on silent, she ignores her other obligations, and she makes sure to get whatever is in her focus done. This has proven to be disastrous in the past, like when Annalise just needed to clean the entire dorm before starting any homework assignment was due the next day. Or when she reorganized the filing closet at the dealership before adding up the gas receipts she was ordered to do. You get the idea.

Annalise was very determined to get all of her unopened boxes, and her clothes to fit in her tiny, beat up car so she didn't have to make multiple trips, given how far campus is from Shawn's apartment. He promised he would help her move when he got home, he had that huge Jeep after all, but Annalise was way too antsy. Besides, they already fought about this, and she didn't want to start anything all over again. She didn't want him to feel obligated to help if only one of them was into the idea of her moving out.

After pushing on the car door three times, it finally clicked shut. Annalise successfully managed to stuff all of her clothes and half her boxes into the backseat. The rest of the boxes were in the trunk. The windows were all covered, so maybe she wouldn't be able to see her blind spots, but at least Annalise wouldn't have to make a second trip. She silently thanked the Tetris gods for blessing her with the appropriate skills as she went back up to the apartment.

Shawn's living space didn't look that different with all of Annalise's belongings out. Most of it was all stashed into the "recording" room over the summer, and neither of them spent any time in there. There was more space in the closet now, too. It was no longer just a black abyss, and all of Shawn's belongings were now undisturbed. Annalise debated smuggling out his black Nike hoodie, but given the circumstances it was best to leave everything as it was. The apartment didn't look any different really, but Annalise still felt an ache from her throat down to the bottom of her feet as she removed the spare key from her chain and left it on the glass dining table. This was easier than saying goodbye to him in person.

~

Campus was nowhere near as quiet and lonely as the apartment. Students were running around like headless chickens, trying to locate buildings, schedules, and friends. She already had a key to her dorm, so she parked near her building and carried her backpack and two boxes up the walkway. Annalise's resting bitch face and the clunk of her boots on the ground gave her less of a struggle to push past other students. Weak and fragile as she was these last couple of months, she's still got it.

The dorm building wasn't too far from the last one she lived in, but it was going to be a bitch getting to her classes. Maybe she should invest in a bike… or she should get her shit together and take the bus.

Annalise's new dorm was on the third floor, and it was furnished. Weird, yes, but she was not going to complain. It was a bit smaller, but not cramped. There was a tiny hallway between the two bedrooms, and one cramped bathroom. She noticed one room already had boxes sitting on the floor, and she couldn't help but get just a little excited. Stella hadn't completely abandoned her. Annalise wasn't even mad about their three month long silence, she was just happy that she would be seeing a familiar face.

She didn't run into Stella at all during the multiple trips she took bringing all her stuff in. Annalise knew she was here, though. Her perfume scent was always left behind in any room she had been in, and Annalise definitely caught the scent in the dorm. The same amount of boxes were still in her room by the time Annalise finished bringing all of her's in. She figured she could have texted Stella, but she kind of wanted to surprise her… even though they both knew about the other.

She checked her phone anyway. The only text she had was from Shawn.

"How come you didn't wait for me?"

Pursing her lips and smudging the signature black lipstick, Annalise cleared the notification and went to sit in the armchair in the living room. She was way too tired to try to reason with him. She certainly couldn’t jump into the "I miss you" crap so quickly either. She didn't want to, but Shawn obviously did when he sent another text. Out of sheer habit, Annalise opened the notification instead of clearing it, and she cursed under her breath.

"You've been gone only a few hours and this place already feels so sad and empty. Why did you leave your key?"

Yeah, she left him on read. She didn't know what else to say to him.

Thankfully, the lock on the door jiggled and in came Stella carrying a large cardboard box. She gasped and her hazel eyes lit up when she saw her dark natured roommate. She quickly squatted down and set the box on the floor before coming at Annalise with open arms.

"Mi esposa hermosa!"

Annalise will never say this out loud, but Stella gives wonderful hugs. They two girls haven't seen each other in over three months, so getting a nice tight hug was something that was really needed. They rocked from side to side, giggling at the motions. It was like nothing had really changed.

"When did I become your wife?" Annalise asked, amused as she leaned back to look at her.

"When we decided to live together for the third year in a row!" Stella replied. “Oh you got a little…” Her thumb rubbed under Annalise’s lip, showing her the black.

“The struggles of being goth,” she joked.

Stella giggled, and then the rambling began. "How are you? I'm so sorry we didn't talk much over the summer. Did you stay with Shawn the whole summer? Oh, is he here?" She bounced on her feet, looking around the dorm.

"Uh yeah, I did stay with him the entire time," she told her. "And no, he's not here. He's working."

Annalise knew he wasn't. He had found her abandoned key, which meant he was home. And he was probably sulking. And he was going to sleep alone...

"But he'll be here later, right?" Stella asked, nudging her arm. "Y'all are gonna christen your room, eh?"

She really had to ask, didn't she? She really had to jokingly ask a question that would change the expression on Annalise's face, thus warning her of the things that had happened. She wasn't sure why she kept an obviously fake smile on her face as she silently stared at her roommate. The silence alone wasn't enough, apparently.

Normally, Stella would dramatically gasp, sit her down, and ask Annalise to spill every detail. Instead, she sighed.

"Fill me in while you help me bring my stuff up."

~

Classes and club meetings resumed within the next couple of days, so it gave Annalise plenty of excuses to keep her texts to Shawn dismissive and short. She knew he was coming and going from campus for class too, but due to their different majors, he was going to be very far away from her. Not to mention, he didn't know where her new dorm was located, so it wasn't like he could track her down.

Except… Annalise had to retake biology. She knew Shawn was at the science building quite often, and she had hoped her bio lab fell on a day that he was at the fine arts building. But you know, life just happens, and sometimes you see your mans between classes. Sometimes you just see him leaving classroom, towering over the other students because he’s a giant. Maybe you’ll see him with a very short girl at his side, and they’re both laughing at something. Maybe he won’t see you either because he’s balls deep in banter with this random girl.

There was a lump in Annalise’s stomach following that minor event, and it made her anxious and uneasy for the first day of that class. Still, she was determined to stay on board with the separation they both agreed on. It was better that way for now. She didn't know about Shawn, but Annalise fully intended on keeping the distance, suspicious-looking friends be damned.

Anyway, she could find friends of her own too. Gaming club meetings started up again that Friday, and it was something to look forward to. After god knows how long, Annalise attended said meeting after receiving an email from the head of the club, Josh. He and his friend, Paul, ran the club most of the time. They managed to get plenty of people to sign up during the rush earlier in the week but only seven of them actually attended the first meeting. Just like every year.

Both Josh and Paul were scrawny blond boys with "nice guy" complexes. They were polite for the most part, given that they inducted Annalise into the club the moment she signed up. But they also quizzed her on just about every popular, mainstream video game there was once they realized she would actually be showing up to the meetings. It took time, and a bit of Annalise telling them off, but they were civil towards each other now.

"Annalise!" called Chad as the lady herself entered the classroom in the communications building. He was another member, and he had his two frat bros with him, Kyle and Jared, and they both chanted her name in their deep, manly voices.

All different heights, but same amount of insane muscle. For lack of better words, these guys were meatheads with good intentions. Chad was a student with one of the highest GPA on campus, practically competing with Josh. Kyle was the star student in his major, sports medicine. Jared was that guy who beat up bigots as a hobby. All three of them were fully dedicated to their fraternity, Sigma Chi.

Then there was Patrick, who nodded to Annalise as a greeting. She nodded back and took the empty seat next to him in the circle.

The people who think Annalise Flores is a complete hardcore goth have not met Patrick Markowski. This was a guy who was always decked out in leather, ripped jeans, and black eyeliner. He had a proper faux hawk, which is what made people notice him the most. He typically surrounded himself with other goths, unlike Annalise. He was truly dedicated to the lifestyle, while she deviated from even that sometimes. This was the only guy in the club Annalise was actually friends with.

Anyway, all seven of these nerds shared the same appreciation for video games, which brought them all together in a circle, in an empty classroom, in the communications building this evening. However, Annalise's entrance caused the guys to deviate from the main topic.

Josh and Paul had been staring at her with their mouths open the second she entered the room. The Frats were visibly excited and each gave her a high five. Patrick merely stayed quiet and smiled.

"Heard you almost fucking died!" Chad told her. "And you didn't tell a single one of us!"

"I thought you had actually died," Josh spoke up. "Since you never miss a meeting and all."

So that got around. Cool.

“I wasn’t dying,” Annalise said, rolling her eyes. “I just had part of my colon surgically removed.”

“No way…” Jared said in wonder.

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” said Paul with a gag. He brought the collar of his red Pizza Planet shirt over his mouth.

The Frats stared at Annalise in awe, almost impressed by her vague explanation. She really didn’t understand the fascination, given everything that happened during and after the hospital. Of course, they knew nothing about any of that. At the same time, Annalise was annoyed at Paul’s dramatic reaction, so she kept talking.

“It might happen to you too if you don’t take care of yourself and listen to your body,” she told him. “Or worse, you could end up with a bag of your poop attached to your belly.”

Paul gagged again, much louder this time. Then Annalise decided that that was enough and directed the conversation to the club’s main topic: video games.

“So who’s played Team Sonic Racing?”

It was only the first meeting, so the group made a plan to bring their Switches and play next time. The Nice Guys prompted to play a round of Fortnite online later, but Annalise was not up for that game in the slightest. Too mainstream. Too chaotic. She never could get into it.

“Well, we can play without you,” Paul suggested, “not everyone has to join in.”

“Isn’t that a rule, though?” Patrick asked pointedly. “If we’re gonna play something together, we all have to agree on one game. Besides, I don’t play Fortnite either.”

Paul's eyes darted around, trying to look for a counterargument, but he sighed. “Fine. Anyone else got any suggestions?”

“What about a D&D campaign?” Annalise said. “Or some type of board game?”

Josh scoffed. “It’s video game club. Besides, me and Paul already have a campaign with our other friends.”

“‘Course you do,” she mumbled, folding her arms.

“Ooo! I got an idea!” Kyle spoke up, raising his massive hand. “We should hit up Bart. That bar with the art and retro games?”

Annalise perked up. Finally, someone with a brain cell. “I participated in a Smash Bros tournament there. It’s really fun, we should all go one weekend.”

“A bar?” Josh said in distaste.

“Yeah! It’ll be a class field trip or something!” Chad agreed. “It’s awesome, bro! They got a Gamecube and an N64! Sometimes they do karaoke night, but only with songs from different games!”

Then, Kyle looked at Annalise with a smirk. “Bet your boyfriend would perform there, eh?”

Even when she was far away from him, Shawn still had a presence wherever she went. “Heh, maybe…”

Luckily, none of these guys were the type to hover. The subject went back to going to Bart one weekend, and then the group chat was revived to discuss further adventures. Once the meeting was adjourned, Patrick followed me out the door.

“So, Annie. No offense or anything,” he said, walking in step beside her as they walked down the corridor, “but what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“My summer was great, thanks,” Annalise said, too busy glancing at her phone to cringe at that awful nickname. No new messages for once.

“Nah, seriously. You were in the fucking hospital, and I find out through Snapchat?” he asked seriously. “Did you even tell anybody? What the hell happened?”

She didn’t remember posting anything about her hospital stay anywhere on social media. However, the only two people who were there with her were social media freaks. Stella was the type to tweet every single one of her brain farts, and frequently Snap where she was every second. Shawn was less active on his platforms, but he was still quite popular in the Toronto area, so he had a sizeable following. Annalise knew he took a picture of his hand holding hers while she was in the hospital at least once. Maybe it made it to his Instagram story a couple of times.

Sighing, Annalise gave Patrick the gist of her exciting adventure with her large intestine. Some underlying guilt wanted to be felt as she recalled staying and Shawn’s for so long, but she decided to spare those details.

“Looked death in the face, eh?” he said, nodding in what looked like approval. “Badass.”

She chuckled. “Guess I wasn’t ready to be yeeted off this mortal coil.”

“Ugh, you use the word yeet? How much has that guy changed you?” Patrick stuck his tongue out at her, flashing the piercing he had on the muscle.

“Hey, I’m more down with the kids than he is.”

The pair were quiet as they made it out to the courtyard. The night was chilly and cloudy, the only light coming from the lampposts on either side of the walkway. It felt different knowing Annalise was with only a friend rather than her mans, and she tried to ignore the ache in her chest and the urge to talk about him.

“Do you remember what it was like?” Patrick asked after a minute. “Being so close to death?”

“Nope,” she replied simply. “Although, when I was under, I had a really vivid dream that my… uh, Shawn cheated on me.” Way to not talk about him.

“You sure it was a dream?”

They were passing by one of the picnic tables, where Patrick pointed to. There was a group of people standing around the table, and two people sitting on top of it. One of those people was Shawn with his acoustic guitar. He was singing with the girl who was sitting next to him, the same one he was walking with at the science building. It wouldn’t have seemed weird if Patrick hadn’t said what he said. It would have been left alone if Annalise hadn’t thought about that stupid fever dream.

“Come on,” she said to Patrick as she stalked off towards the group.

“I was joking!” he said with a laugh.

Still, Annalise walked with a purpose and he followed her. She clutched the strap of her shoulder bag and kept her chin up as she made herself apart of the tiny audience. It was quite the sight, two nerds decked out in all black and heavy eyeliner amongst a group of normals watching two other normals sing a pop song. No lie, Annalise just wanted to get a look at this girl she had never seen before.

Olive skin. Black, curly hair. Very short next to her guy. Very pretty voice coming out of very pretty lips. She looked at Shawn and he looked back at her as they sang an eerily familiar song. Musically speaking, they seemed good together.

“I’ll leave you with the memory, and the aftertaste…”

The tiny audience clapped. Patrick was nodding in pleasant surprise, probably having never heard Shawn’s songs before. Annalise applauded as well, but she couldn’t help the narrowing of her eyes as she watched Shawn and this girl high five each other.

They were both comfortable with all the attention, it was easy to see. Shawn was beaming in a way that hadn’t been seen in a long time, and then he laid eyes on Annalise. He still had that smile on his face, even though it faltered a little bit. She kept her face neutral and quirked her eyebrows at him as a silent greeting.

“Should I leave you guys alone?” asked Patrick as he and Annalise watched Shawn get down from the table top.

“No,” she replied simply.

She almost regretted having him stay. He had to witness Shawn and Annalise attempt to figure out how to greet each other. A side hug would have been awkward for reasons not only having to do with the guitar strapped to his shoulder. She definitely couldn’t kiss him, because that would have started something she had been trying to distance herself from. They finally settled for a mildly uncomfortable handshake, and Shawn kept holding her hand as he spoke.

It had been almost a week since Ann moved out, and she only sent him one text in that time span. It was the black heart emoji. Better than nothing, but not better than seeing her in person.

“You haven’t answered my texts,” Shawn told her. If she was going to decide when she'll give him attention, then he wasn't going to beat around the bush when he saw her.

“I’ve been busy,” Ann replied, feebly attempting to shake her hand away.

Shawn nodded, but he wasn't thoroughly convinced. Between work and school, Ann was a hermit. Or so he thought, given that she now had this new goth dude at her side. “So, who’s your friend?”

“Who’s yours?” she quickly said back.

“I’m Patrick!” said Patrick, holding out his hand. “Annie and I go way back!”

Shawn let go of her hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you, brother. Wait… Annie?” He chuckled.

Her cheeks heated up, and she decided to move her eyes somewhere else, specifically on Shawn’s unnamed singing partner. She was chatting with some of the other people still around the table. Annalise noticed she talked with her hands a lot.

“She lets me call her that even though she hates it,” Patrick said, snapping her back into the moment. “Right, Annie?”

“Do not,” she warned. Then she looked at Shawn. “So who’s the chick you’re singing with?”

Shawn took in an almost reluctant deep breath as he turned and called the girl over. If there was anything he had yet to discover, it had to be if his girl was the jealous type.

Annalise's dark brown eyes narrowed once again while he wasn’t looking. Call it anxiety or paranoia, but she was oddly suspicious. Patrick caught the glare though, and he nudged her arm to snap her out of it.

“Ann, Patrick, this is Alessia,” Shawn said when the very short girl joined them. “She’s a first year. Alessia, this is my…” He elongated the vowel. “Annalise. And her friend Patrick.”

Okay, so… a sinking feeling in the tummy. That’s what that felt like. Couldn’t be mad, though. Annalise wasn’t so quick to use the boyfriend word these days.

“You’re Annalise!” Alessia said in pleasant surprise. She did not hesitate to hug her, arms going around her shoulders and practically pulling her down to her level. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Honestly, Annalise was just glad she didn’t call her the goth girlfriend. Or the goth anything, for that matter. She didn’t hug Patrick, though, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“So, how did you two meet?” Annalise prompted. So maybe she was a little more than curious to know how and when Shawn found the time to get another girl at his side.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Shawn replied a little too quickly.

His eyes bored into hers, throwing them into a staredown. He broke through the fake, polite smile Ann had on. Of course he broke it. He was the only one who could. However, Shawn couldn't read the expression she had on. He couldn't tell if she was upset or not, happy or not… He couldn't tell if she wanted to change her mind about this separation or not… Ten months together and Ann was still a mystery.

“Uh, Shawn and I have like, every class together,” Alessia said slowly, looking between the couple, noticing the sudden change in atmosphere. She scratched the back of her head.

“Annie and I have been in the same club for two years,” Patrick added in the same tone. He too noticed the tension.

“Oh, which club? There’s some I’ve been checking out…”

Those two kept up the conversation. Shawn’s gaze on Annalise made her throat close up. He wasn’t smiling or feigning politeness anymore. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were hard and glossed over. Inexplicable guilt began to form in her chest yet again. She knew he didn’t understand.

_______

taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @ilsolee @mendesromano @1-800-khalid-mendussy @kitykatnumber @strangerliaa @iloveshawnieboi @poppyshawn @shawnsunflower @shawnvvmendes @yourdelightfullyleft @shawmndes @havethetimeeofyourlifee @calyumthomas

[littlemissvincentvega]

1am guns (vincent vega x reader)

i’ve done this as kind of a father’s daddy’s day special! but i just wanna note that:

if your dad has left/abandoned you etc

if your dad has passed on

if you have an unstable/difficult relationship with your dad

if your dad doesn’t treat you fairly

or anything like this that might make you feel down on this day

just know ur in my thoughts and i know how difficult it can be <3

either way, i hope u enjoy the fic :)

-

“So I should be back around seven tomorrow,” Jules reminds you, shrugging his jacket on and straightening it out. “You sure you’re good to stay over?”

“Yeah, no problem, Uncle Jules.”

“C’mere, kiddo,” he grins, pulling you in for a big hug. He gives you a reassuring squeeze and pulls away, holding your shoulders. “Any problems, call me, okay?”

“Yeah. But I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Give her another kiss from me when she’s awake, yeah?”

“I will! Now go, you’re gonna be late!” you urge, shoving him out of the door and giggling.

“One thing you gotta know about me by now, I’m never fuckin’ late. S’at dumbass Vincent that is.”

“I get it,” you giggle. “See you tomorrow, Jules. Be safe.”

“I will, sweetie. See ya.” With that, you wave him out as he heads to his car and drives off, throwing you an extra wave as he does so. Despite calling him ‘Uncle Jules’, he’s not related to you by any means. Your father, Jimmie, had been friends with him since you were very young, so you had always known Jules as your uncle. He’s practically family at this point. Always cares for you, looks after you, makes sure you’re okay. Had always had your back (and always will).

Closing the door, you tiptoe to Jada’s room and peek in. There’s a hazy pink glow in the darkness coming from her nightlight (one you had helped pick for her birthday, actually) and she appears to be fast asleep. ‘Such a beautiful girl,’ you think to yourself. Smiling, you make your way to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. Jules had stuck a post-it note labelled ‘SNACKIES FOR THE BABYSITTER’ on two of them. 

You scoff to yourself. As if you didn’t already know exactly where the yummy nibbles are. Grabbing a bowl and emptying a hefty bag of salted pretzels into it, you head to the living room and plonk yourself on the couch. Jules had placed a few folded-up fuzzy blankets on the arm along with a couple of pillows, so you drape one over yourself.

Softly humming some Nirvana song you had heard that day to yourself, you ponder over what to watch on TV. Not expecting to find anything interesting, you mindlessly flick through the channels, eyes half-lidded in the darkness, the room barely lit from the box.

“--wanna be like you, hop-dee-doo-bee-do-bow

I wanna walk like you,

Talk like you, too”

You practically sit bolt upright at this. It’s the Jungle Book! Resting the TV remote on the stained coffee table, you snuggle down into the blankets, popping a pretzel in your mouth one after another. Maybe tonight won’t be as tedious as you had thought.

-

Creak.

You shuffle in your sleep, the TV still idly playing in the background.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something snaps, and you jump the fuck out from the blankets into a stance that can only be described as that of a ninja warrior. Jules’ front door leads directly into the living room, and you give a threatening glare to the doofus standing at it.

He holds his hands up, looking at you dumbfounded. “Uh--”

“Shut the fuck up, who the hell are you and why are you in my uncle’s house?” you demand, fumbling around for the gun he hides for you. Your hands find it tucked inside one of the pillowcases, and you aim it at him. The guy watches you in confusion.

“I’m Vincent? I’m his-- I work with him? Who the hell are you?”

Oh. So this is the dumbass Jules always mentions. “Oh,” you say, lowering the gun. “So you’re the dumbass Jules always mentions.”

“I’m the what? Look, kid, why are you here?” he sighs, gently kicking the front door shut.

“I’m babysitting, asshole. Why are you here? Sneaking into Jules’ apartment in the middle of the fucking night? Imagine if Jada would have heard you, she’d be fucking terrified, you should be ashamed of yourself!” you scold.

Christ, this is embarrassing. Being lectured at one in the morning by some young girl in skimpy Mickey Mouse pyjamas. How fucking humiliating. “You can’t talk to me that way, I’m-- you can’t talk to me like that!” he stutters.

You fold your arms, unintentionally pushing your breasts together. His eyes automatically drop to them-- you’re not wearing a bra, either. “Uh, hello? Eyes up here?” you scoff, snapping your fingers in front of your chest. He jumps at this and meets your eyes again.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever,” you say, pretending to not enjoy it. You had never seen a photo of Vince before, but god, he’s handsome. You’re lucky you’re wearing your ass-shorts, as your best friend liked to call them (they make your ass look incredible, these pyjamas really are a blessing). “We can talk like adults here. Why are you sneaking into my uncle’s apartment?”

“Why do I suddenly owe you an explanation?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, arms still folded. That’s enough to terrify him into telling you.

“Alright, alright! I lost my fuckin’ gun and I know where he keeps his spares,” he admits, his eyes flickering from your chest to your eyes.

You saunter over to him, a smirk playing on your lips-- older men are much more fun to tease. “You can borrow mine, if you like,” you coo, “daddy.”

“Wh-- look, honey, I ain’t into, uh, I ain’t ‘boutta-- you know!” he stammers, not knowing where to look. He has to look down at you to make eye contact, and he can’t really do that without looking down your shirt. It’s not making it any easier that your nipples are visible through the material.

“Ain’t about to what, Vincent?” you tease, running your tongue over your upper lip. You gaze up at him with doe eyes, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. Poor guy, he’s so flustered. Feeling a little guilty about it, you change your expression to a smug one. “I’m kidding, Christ. I’ll go get you one of his spares.”

Vince sighs and holds his coat so it covers his crotch as he trails after you to Jules’ room-- you’ve got him all worked up.

Jules keeps his guns in a safe that’s hidden at the bottom of his wardrobe, so you grab the key from its safe place and get on your hands and knees to unlock it. The shorts hug your ass perfectly, and Vince can hardly take it. You can feel his eyes roaming over you and, smirking to yourself, wiggle your butt a little. “Oh, god,” he groans, unable to keep it in. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, honey, it’s just that y--”

“Wanna fuck?”

“What??”

“Want? To? Fuck?”

He lets his coat drop to the floor. “Is that a question or an offer?” 

You cock your head to look up at him, chewing your lip. “Both,” you whisper, kneeling in front of him. He watches you like a hawk as you palm him through his pants, rubbing your lips and nose against his erection, almost gnawing at it.

“Mm, good girl, good kitten,” he urges, running his hands through your hair.

Giggling quietly, you paw at his hand and he helps you up. He rubs your waist with his hands, pushing your shirt up. The warmth from his palms is so comforting. You pull him in for an impatient kiss-- his breath tastes of cigarettes. It’s dirty, you like it. “Fuck me on the couch, I’m not doing it in my uncle’s bedroom.”

“Of course, babydoll,” he smirks, picking you up and carrying you to the living room. Carefully, he lowers you down so you’re on the couch, legs spread and ready to be fucked. “I’ll pull out, baby, don’t worry about that.”

“Mhm, yes daddy,” you whine, gushing at the sound of his belt buckle jingling as he drops his slacks and takes himself out. You hear him jerk himself a couple of times for the relief and, god, it’s such a fucking hot thought.

“S’all cause’a those beautiful tits’a yours,” he growls, holding the crotch of your shorts & panties to one side and rubbing the tip of his cock up & down your slit, teasing you. It’s practically glazed over with your wetness. “Don’t leave much to the imagination, do ya, baby girl?”

“Still reeled you in though, didn’t it?”

“That’s true,” Vincent admits, chuckling as he positions himself. Slowly, he pushes his cock into you, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist, pulling you towards him. A few moments later and he’s worked up a steady rhythm, grunting quietly with every thrust. Aside from the TV that’s quietly sounding, the only noise in the room is the sticky sound of slapping skin accompanied by hushed groans. “So good, baby, so fuckin’ good,” he growls under his breath, fucking into you in just the right spot.

Not a few minutes later and you’re panting a little, feeling your orgasm on its way. “Mmf, daddy, I’m gonna come,” you whine, doing your best to keep quiet.

“Tha’s a good girl, honey, go on, all for daddy.”

Hearing him refer to himself as daddy in that sexed up voice is enough for you. Your climax approaches and you feel your pussy tighten around his cock. You bite down on your knuckle to muffle your squeals, which sets him off-- he pulls out, jerking himself as he finishes over your ass. “Christ,” he pants, giving himself a stroke before pulling his pants back up. “That wasn’t bad.”

You readjust your panties & shorts so you’re wearing them like normal again, then turn to face him, raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk. “’Wasn’t bad’? Great fucking review, I’m flattered,” you say sarcastically, and he chuckles.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” you giggle, taking his hand to check his watch. “You should probably get going, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Well wham-bam, thank you mam, huh.”

Vincent pulls you in for another kiss, the two of you smiling against each other’s lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, asshole.”

“I know, honey.” He rubs his hands over your waist fondly, sighing in satisfaction. “I gotta say, I didn’t think my night would pan out like this.”

“Huh, maybe you should take more of an interest in Julie’s life. Find out when he’s out for the night, when he’s having a babysitter,” you wink.

“Maybe I will.”

He gazes at you for a moment before buckling up his belt, looking around. “Where’s that gun again?”

“Oh, it’s just in his bedroom,” you reply, tottering off to fetch it for him. He waits in the bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame. You toss it to him and he throws a smile at you.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. And if Jules asks, I didn’t see you.”

“Honey, if Jules knew we had a fuckin’ interaction he’d lecture me with some dumbass Bible verse or some shit, nevermind if he knew what we just did,” he smirks. “I’d be in more trouble than you, believe me.”

You do believe him. Jules can be ruthless when he wants to be. Sighing, you see Vince to the door (him stealing a handful of pretzels on the way) and give him a kiss on the cheek goodbye. “I’ll see you when I see you,” you smirk, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Definitely, baby. See ya.”

You watch him saunter off and, when he disappears from your sight, you trot back to the couch. Just as you begin to snuggle under the blankets again, the telephone starts ringing. You nearly jump out your skin-- it’s fucking half-past one in the morning! “Hello?” you frown.

“Hey, sweetie, it’s Dad. You okay?”

“Wh-- Dad, I’m fine! Why’d you ring me so late? I nearly shat myself, the phone’s so damn loud!”

“Watch your language,” he chuckles, making you smile. “I just wanted to check up on you, know you’re alright and stuff. And Jada, obviously.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. She’s fast asleep. How’s things at home?”

“It’s alright, kiddo. Listen, you should be asleep!” he scolds, mostly joking. Your dad had never really been very good at discipline. Then again, he never really had to be-- you had always been a good kid, for the most part. Cheeky, true, but well behaved.

You roll your eyes with a giggle. “Even if I was asleep, which I wasn’t, the phone would’a woke me up, dumbass!”

“I know, muffin. I just wanted to check you’re okay,” he laughs. “What’re you doin’ up this late anyways? Up to no good?”

“Of course. Nah, just watched Jungle Book on TV. Why the hell are you awake?”

“I was trying to stay up so I could call you at like, midnight, to check on you,” Jimmie explains, “but I sorta kinda fell asleep watchin’ TV.”

“Congrats. Dad, I’m gonna try and get some sleep.”

“Alright, sweetie, love you. Sleep well!”

“Night, love you too!”

With that, you hang up and drift off beneath those fuzzy blankets, clinging onto one of the pillows and dreaming of Vince.

-

“(Y/N), (Y/N)!” 

You try to open your eyes, squinting at the sunlight shining through the windows. “Huh?” As your vision comes together, you realise it’s Jada. She’s awake and ready for breakfast.

“I’m hungry,” she says, prodding your cheek.

“Hi hungry, I’m (Y/N),” you tease. “I’ll get you some breakfast, just give me a minute to wake up, sweetie.” Handing her the TV remote, you sit up on the couch rubbing your eyes. Remembering the night’s events, you let Jada choose what she’d like to watch.

She decides on Rugrats, something you secretly enjoy. You pat your lap and lift her onto it, giving her a kiss on the temple. The kid’s seven and she absolutely adores you. Really looks up to you, Jules says. “You want some Count Chocula?” you ask, smiling.

“Yes please!”

“Alright, honey,” you smile, lifting her off of your lap and onto the couch. Running a hand through your ruffled hair, you head to the kitchen to fetch her cereal and return in a couple of minutes. Just as you emerge from the kitchen, the front door swings open and in comes Jules.

“Daddy!” squeals Jada, running up to him.

“Pumpkin!” He scoops her up in his arms, pulling her into a big hug. “How’s my princess? Did you behave for (Y/N)?”

You set Jada’s breakfast down on the coffee table, watching the two with a grin. “Yes, she was good as gold, weren’t you honey?” you smile, and she nods proudly.

“Tha’s my girl.” Jules looks at his daughter like she’s the only thing that matters. It’s refreshing to see such wholesomeness for once. To say he’s a hitman, he’s a complete softie when it comes to being a dad. “Go on, go eat up your breakfast, baby.” With that, Jada skips off back to the couch.

“How was work?” you ask, leaning against the wall.

“It was alright but, oh, (Y/N), that dumbass Vincent--”

You feel your eyes go wide for a split second and quickly revert them back to normal. The last thing you want is to make him suspicious.

“--calls me at, like, midnight or so? Tells me he’s lost his gun? And I’m try’na carry out a damn hit. Honestly, I don’t know where that numbskull gets off.” He sighs, shaking his head with a little smile.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” you agree, not even thinking twice about your response.

“You what?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just tired, Dad called me at like, almost two in the morning.”

“Ah. I’ll run you home after Jada’s eaten, sweetie, a’ight?”

You smile, heading back to the couch to sit with your ‘cousin’. “Thanks, Uncle Jules.”