#<- guy who only speaks up when hes angry or concerned real

[absurdumsid]

GOOD MRONNING SILLY LITTLE CREATURES

dust is probably saying something like "you JUST got back! you should rest!"

Horror! Sans belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Fell! Sans belongs to Fella/Vic Murder! Sans belongs to ask-dusttale

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.

[notafunkiller]

cherry

Summary: During your family getaway, things get a little messy when you meet Bucky's old friend.

Pairing: (fake) boyfriend’s brother!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: age gap (r is 26, Bucky is 38/39), teasing, pet names, language, alcohol, mentions of sex, jealousy, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 4.5K

story masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: This story will have around 4 parts, this is the 2nd part.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You keep coming across each other in the morning and during dinner for the next couple of days. He’d refused the offer, you heard from Jessica. You noticed he doesn’t enjoy talking about business in general, so you never open the conversation about it.

His family is really lying to him without shame, and you can sense how cold their bond is, but what can you do? You wish he knew... you wish you could talk about it with him. If only...

That’s why you are surprised when both of your families decide to organize a getaway in Austria for the weekend, and Bucky is coming along.

Thankfully, the cabin you’re staying at has more than enough rooms even with Bucky and William’s sister there.

Rebecca is a physiotherapist, she’s thirty and she lives in France. She seems very close to Bucky. They’ve been hanging around a lot since you arrived.

You wish you could say you are close to your family. You’ve been barely speaking to your mom since this whole arrangement became a real thing. But you didn’t say even a single word to your dad. And Bucky noticed, but he didn’t comment on it even as he helped you get your luggage to your room.

“You know I could have done that myself, right?” You smile.

“No need to. Your boyfriend should have, but he’s a punk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “No wonder why you won’t...”

You immediately puff, anticipating what he wanted to say. Why does he want to bring that up? “What, fuck him?”

“I was gonna say share the room with him. My little brother’s sex life is none of my concern.”

You nod, all flushed. “Good. I’ll go take a shower and be right back.”

You don’t know why you tell him this because it’s not like it’s his job to inform anyone. That should be William’s, but he’s not here. And even if he were, you know you wouldn’t ask him to.

“Alright. Uhm, see you later.”

Bucky didn’t anticipate Rebecca waiting for him in the doorway of his room. She has a “I know everything” look, making him blush even though he did nothing wrong.

“How old is she?” She asks soon as Bucky closes the door.

“Who?”

“You know who, Bucky.” She jumps on his bed amused. “Your little crush.”

He puffs in response as if that’s a real answer.

“Come on, don’t be mad. It’s okay. Maybe she’ll realize she is into older guys.”

“Rebecca!”

“What?”

Bucky groans. “You are talking about our brother’s girlfriend.”

Rebecca’s eyes glow, and he has no idea what he’s just started.

“They haven’t been together long though. I doubt two people who live in different rooms-”

For some reason, he gets defensive immediately and interrupts her. “That is their choice and you should respect it.”

So it’s hers, Rebecca puts two and two together.

“You think he is that bad?” Rebecca changes the subject a bit to get more out of him, and Bucky realizes, but he can’t help but ask.

“What?”

“In bed. She seems angry all the time.”

She doesn’t remember the last time she saw her brother looking like this. This is more than a crush at this point. He’s annoyed, angry and livid, all at once.

“What? You never thought about it? Never heard them?”

“Can you go to your room now?” He snaps, trying to brush the images of you with William off his mind. It makes him sick to his stomach. “I don’t wanna talk about my little brother’s sex life!”

Rebecca laughs, walking to the door.

“You didn’t deny she’s your crush! And I didn’t even say her name, by the way.”

Shit... He didn’t even realize.  Things are going too far, he needs to snap out of it.

“Your room, Rebecca.”

“Such a bad man, mid-life crisis hitting you two years...” She stops for a few seconds before she corrects herself with a wink. “One earlier.”

Bucky groans. “Rebecca!”

“She’s into you anyways, Buck. You’ll save him from dating or even marrying someone who doesn’t love him.”

Somehow, her words set him on fire and cool him at the same time. Rebecca is good at reading people, and he sensed something is off about you and William, too, but how can he hope... how can he think about kissing his brother’s girlfriend even after a break up?

“She was checking your ass on the stairs.” She adds with a smirk. “And it was not subtle.”

And then he’s left alone with his confusing thoughts and feelings.

*

Something’s wrong with him. He’s been completely —and obviously— avoiding you ever since he helped you with the luggage, and you wonder what you did wrong. As soon as you get inside any room he is in, he finds excuses to leave. Was your tone too rude earlier? You didn’t intend to get mad, but you couldn’t help it.

You know he is an adult, and he should be able to face you even if it bothers him, yet you can’t help but feel bad when you see him outside, in the cold.

You take the nearest blanket without thinking twice and open the door.

His head snaps in your direction, and you smile shyly, wrapping the blanket around his back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you, I just came to give you this.”

His shoulders relax, and he reaches out to take your hand. “Thank you! You’re not bothering me at all. You can sit with me if you want.”

Neither of you has any idea where this came from. You thought he didn’t want to be around you, but how can you say no to this?

You sit on the chair next to him and smile when he covers you with the blanket.

“No, no. This is for you.”

“I’m not gonna let you catch a cold, love.” His voice sounds authoritative but not distant.

“Then let’s share.” You grab the end of the blanket and adjust it until you are both covered. “See? Perfect!”

After that, you’re quiet for a few seconds, trying to find the right thing to say or ask him.

“Are you alright?”

Bucky smiles. “I’m alright.”

“Well, you look alright.”

He blushes and laughs at the same time, making you giggle. He looks so adorable like this.

“Then why did you ask that?”

“To make you smile. You were quite tense.”

“When?” He tilts his head, and your shoulders touch under the blanket.

“Ever since we arrived, to be honest. Did I do anything to upset you?”

“No, love, you didn’t upset me.” He immediately assures you, but you’re not certain he’s being honest, and he senses it. “I mean it, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression and made you uncomfortable.”

It’s easy to notice when he is lying at least. He surely didn’t intend to make you feel bad, but he’s been avoiding you.

“Don’t worry about me.” You sigh. “You can just tell me next time, though. So I won’t be in your way.”

“What does that mean?” He can feel the panic rushing through his whole body.

“I mean, it’s your family, and they decided to have this random vacation. I could have stayed home.”

Not entirely true because you were asked to come along.

“Well, your family is here too, plus your boyfriend. But it’s irrelevant, anyway. I am sorry for ignoring you, I was just… consumed by my thoughts,” he says honestly, and you smile.

“It’s okay. It happens to me too.”

Especially when it comes to him.

“Why are you not with William?”

You try not to look disappointed as you answer. He has a point to ask you that. After all, William is your official boyfriend, and you two didn’t spend much time together. But you hate it anyway.

“You want me to leave, huh?”

You try to take off the blanket, but he doesn’t let you.

“No, no. Don’t go, I mean... I just expected you two to spend more time together.”

“Well, I wasn’t too keen on coming here. I have a lot of work to do on Monday, and I wanted to prepare some docs beforehand, but my parents forced me indirectly to...” Bucky snorts, amused for some reason, so you stop talking.

“You don’t like spending time with old people much, do you?”

Old people? Does he mean your parents?

“By old people you mean you?” You ask jokingly and turn to him just to see him smirking. The little beard he grew over the last few days makes him somehow even more gorgeous. He’s probably, truth be told, the most attractive man you’ve ever met.

“Yep. I’m turning thirty-nine after all.”

Holy fuck... The question is why you find this so sexy.

“That’s a very nice age,” you comment amused, playing with the edge of the blanket. “You make thirty-eight look very good.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he is smiling again. Good, he should know, and it’s not wrong to compliment someone.

“Thanks.”

You start to talk about random things shortly after: jobs, projects, random hobbies. He is shocked you enjoy origami, and you can’t believe he was in a band during high school. Well, you can imagine it, but it still surprises you. It’s comfortable and nice, but every time he calls you love, you feel yourself shivering more and more. And he senses it, immediately starting to brush your arms with his hands under the blanket.

“Maybe you should go inside.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you protest, melting under his touch. It feels so good. “Can I ask you something?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Ha, funny!” You playfully roll your eyes. “Is it your parents’ anniversary or something?”

Bucky lets out a chuckle. “No, no special occasion for them. Why?”

“Saw a birthday cake...”

“It’s not for them.”

Fuck, is it William’s birthday? No way. Your parents would have told you… you wish you checked the calendar with everyone’s birthday before starting this conversation.

“Is it Rebecca’s?”

“Nope.

“Then...” You think for a little and when it hits you, you gasp. “Yours?”

“Yep.” He pauses, turning his head just enough so he can look into your eyes. “My daddification era is starting.”

Your immediate reaction is a burst of laughter as the lightheartedness of the moment caught you off guard, followed by a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. It feels like your face is on fire.

“But you’re not turning forty...” You mumble, your words barely audible. “I mean, I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry, it’s so embarrassing!”

“So no gift for me, huh?” He teases, utterly unfazed. He hadn’t expected anything at all, and seeing you blush so furiously is endearing. “I feel deeply hurt.”

Without thinking, you lightly slap his chest. “Shut up!”

“That’s not how you talk to your elders, ma’am.”

“Okay, dad,” you snort in response, but there’s a momentary pause from Bucky. He holds his breath, a flicker of different emotions crossing his face.

*

The knock on the door doesn’t wake him up, but it surprises him. He slowly drops his phone on the bed and puts on the nearest T-shirt before opening the door.

There’s no one there waiting, instead, he finds a tall cocktail glass made of paper with a note inside it. Confused, he carefully picks it up from the floor before getting back inside again.

If you don’t drink anything today, I’m gonna punish you... with my presence.

So think twice before refusing :)

Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

*

What Bucky doesn’t expect when he gets downstairs in a great, great mood is to see you, Rebecca, and Cherry talking on the couch.

He freezes, shocked, but he doesn’t have time to recover before everyone starts to hug and wish him a happy birthday. Cherry kisses both of his cheeks and hands him a small gift, which he assumes it’s a watch based on the size.

“Surprise!”

Bucky smiles. “It’s actually a surprise, I really didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Becca said we should keep it a secret. When did I ever miss your birthday?”

He instantly looks in your direction, worried for some reason you might misunderstand this situation, but you don’t seem mad at all. And why would you? You are with his brother. You’re not his. Not even a little. Because if you were...

Rebecca smirks satisfied and hugs him too. “Happy birthday, grandpa!”

He hears you laugh, and before he can think twice about it, he sticks out his tongue playfully toward you.

“Keep it low with the flirting, will you? Your little brother is in the room,” Rebecca whispers, amused, in Bucky’s ear before letting you wish him a happy birthday.

You stop awkwardly in front of him, wondering if you should hug or kiss his cheeks.

He makes the decision for you, grabbing you by your waist and getting you closer. You open your arms and wrap them around his back, shocked, knowing how intimate the way he’s holding you might look. But you don’t care. You let yourself enjoy this as you rest your chin on top of his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes.”

“Thanks for the drink, love. The best gift I received.”

You hide your smile in his shirt.

“You haven’t even opened others yet.”

“I don’t have to.”

You bite your lip, breaking the hug before it gets too suspicious, and give him space so your mom can wish him a happy birthday.

Rebecca winks at you, which makes you even more confused, but you don’t think much about it, focusing on Bucky.

The breakfast goes well, with Bucky in the center of attention despite his obvious attempts to shift the focus to anyone else. Your parents decide to get some shopping done around lunch and get some food for all of you, so you don’t have to worry about much. William tries to do some affectionate gestures from time to time, but you ignore them as much as you can, without making it obvious. You still have to play your part.

Cherry seems like a nice girl. She’s Rebecca’s age and they met during university. They all have been friends for a couple of years, and it’s easy to see that by how comfortable they act around each other.

As they talk about some fancy place in Spain you’ve never been to, you scroll randomly on Instagram.

You decide to search Rebecca and Cherry up so you can follow them, and as you look at Rebecca’s photos, one post in particular catches your eye.

You can’t hold back your gasp, which immediately draws Bucky’s attention.

“You good?”

“Yes,” you answer absently and zoom in on the first pic. There are around ten people there, including Bucky, Rebecca, and Cherry. It’s clear they are all close, but you didn’t realize how close Bucky and Cherry are. They are sitting next to each other in almost every photo. In the second to last one, he is holding her by the waist in a very boyfriend way, which makes you close your eyes.

Of course they were a thing. Of course! And now she’s here... You feel close to crying and you don’t remember the last time you felt so stupid.

Why do you care so much? You are officially dating his brother and you’ve been just friends.

You close the app quickly and stand up, ignoring Bucky’s eyes on your back as you announce, for the sake of appearances, that you’re gonna take a nap.

You don’t let yourself tear up until you close the door.

What if they hook up again here? What if you’ll hear them?

Jesus, anything but that! You couldn’t bear it... You’d be sick for real.

*

You don’t go down for lunch. Your mom comes a few times to check on you, then William, then your mom again with lunch.

You feel hurt and annoyed with yourself. You can’t act like a kid all the time, so when Rebecca comes to check on you, you decide to go downstairs with her.

Bucky looks at you immediately, concerned and confused, but you don’t let your eyes linger too much on him, especially since he is sitting next to Cherry. You drop onto the couch, next to William, and he smiles.

“Feeling better?”

“Much!” You lie, but you do it well enough not to get questioned.

“So now that we’re all here, can we see the surprise, Buck?” Rebecca asks excitedly.

You watch Bucky get up without saying anything, and everyone stays quiet until he returns with a tray full of drinks. He keeps one to himself and takes another one that looks like a cherry mocktail while everyone else hurries up to take one of the drinks. Bucky heads toward you with a smile. “I guess I am not as rusty as I told you last night.”

You know exactly what he means: his first job was as a bartender. He shared stories with you about glasses he broke in the first month, but how he learned, yet it’s been years since he’s made a drink.

You can’t deny the drink looks tempting, especially with your penchant for cherries, but the mere thought of sipping it turns your stomach. “Thanks, but I can’t drink this.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more pronounced. “What’s wrong? Still feeling sick?”

“No, I just hate cherries. I can’t drink it,” you lie in a disgusted tone, keeping your eyes on the table.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” He asks immediately, surprised because he saw you eating cherries before. Why would you hate them all of a sudden?

Cherry herself is walking toward you with Rebecca, so in a moment of madness, you extend your hand. “Can I taste yours?”

Bucky nods, and you immediately take the glass from his hand and take a sip.

It tastes okay, but it’s not your favorite, for sure.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Is it bad? Should I-”

“I’m fine, enjoy your drinks, Bucky. It’s your birthday.” You try to sound as casual as possible. “Gonna get some wine.”

“Wine?” Your mom's surprise is evident in her voice. “Since when do you drink wine?”

“Special occasion. My brother-in-law,” You have to force the words out of your mouth without choking. “Is turning thirty-nine.”

You haven't even gotten tipsy until now, so the half glass of wine, combined with the lack of a proper lunch, makes you feel a bit dizzy. Rebecca immediately catches on and nudges Bucky, who’s been on the edge all night, to help you. William and your parents have already gone to their rooms.

You’re half asleep when you feel Bucky’s arms wrapping around your waist, causing you to open your eyes in shock.

“What are you doing? Let me down.” Your face makes contact with his chest as you speak.

“I’m taking you to bed.”

You snort immediately, letting him climb the stairs with you in his arms. “You can’t take me to bed, silly. Go back to your p-pretty... friend.”

“I’m carrying my pretty friend right now.”

“Smooth talker.” You sigh when he opens the door. “Not me.”

“Who do you mean then, love?” He helps you sit on the bed, and you instinctively reach for his hand, running your fingers along it. His skin feels remarkably soft and warm. You don’t remember the last time you found hands attractive. Or veins. At least, not like this…

Deep down, you know you never stood a chance anyway. Even if you weren’t officially with William, you’re far from Bucky’s type. Cherry, from what you've observed, is an amazing woman, and you can admit that he has great taste.

He probably sees you as too young for him, perhaps even as a little girl. 

You scrunch your nose, and Bucky sits on the bed too since you won’t let go of his hand. He allows himself to enjoy this fleeting moment for a few seconds, aware that it won’t last. This won't hurt anyone, right?

“She’s so pretty and nice, I get it.”

“Get what, love? And who is pretty?” He lets you take his other hand too as he gently asks.

“Cherry.” You sigh, tapping his palms with yours lightly. “I guess she came here to win you back. And I understand. But like... you’d be wasted,” you complain, grabbing his face all of a sudden.

Bucky leans in instantly, closing his eyes.

“If something didn’t work once, why would it work now?” You stroke his beard gently, taking your time. “I mean, sometimes it does, but I can’t see it happening for you. You’re old,” you laugh, making him laugh too.

“I’m old?”

“Ihm, you are. The daddification era looks good on you.”

Bucky’s mind is racing now. From your touch to your words... he feels weak.

“Thank you, love. But how do you know about Cherry?”

“Saw some photos on Instagram this afternoon. You looked gorgeous and all over each other,” you bite your lip, unable to stop touching him. Even if he doesn’t belong to you...

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t serious, love.” He brings his hand to your face too, caressing your cheeks, which only makes you giggle.

“Hmm?”

“We’ve been friends for ages and we just had some... fun for a little while, but it wasn’t a relationship.”

You puff. “That is a form of relationship too! And maybe she wants you now.”

“I doubt that. But even if she did, I don’t want her like that, okay?”

“But she’s so pretty and funny,” you add, surprised.

“Many women are. But I told you, there is nothing like that.” His tone is serious, but you can’t understand.

“But you had sex with her,” you point out, visibly upset. You hate that even though it’s silly.

“O-kay, you need to get some sleep.”

You move your hand down to stroke his chin. “I’m serious, you’re...” You find yourself glancing down to his lap for a brief moment. Although you can't see anything, you just know it’s big. “A whole package. Don’t waste yourself.”

“You think I want Cherry?”

You don’t understand the surprise in his voice. Why wouldn’t he want her? If he wanted her once...

“You’re so confusing,” you murmur, and your eyes fall on his bottom lip the moment he licks it. It’d be nice to feel how soft it is. His mouth seems so soft and wet, and you bet he knows how to use his tongue. Ah... “You wanted to have sex with her, but you wouldn’t want anything with her now?”

Bucky smiles widely, surprised by your interest in his past. He knows it’s silly, especially since you are with William for some reason and he’s pushing forty, for fuck’s sake, but he can’t help himself.

“It was only for a summer.”

“Is this what you do with everyone?” He gasps when he feels the tips of your fingers on his lips as you speak.

“W-why?”

“Don’t waste yourself, okay, pretty boy? They don’t deserve you.”

Bucky literally chokes, completely taken aback.

“What?” He gently grabs your chin. “Who doesn’t deserve me? Cherry?”

“All of them.” You yawn, trying to keep your eyes open. “You deserve a better family.”

You’re so sad for him. They’re lying to him, and he’s so lonely.

Bucky’s confused but also touched by your words. You probably noticed how tense his relationship is with his parents, and you paying attention to that gets him emotional.

“We all do. But right now, you need to rest.”

“Don’t go to her tonight, okay?”

“Jesus, princess.” He strokes your cheek gently, and you giggle for a second.

“I’m not a princess. But please don’t do it. I can’t hear it…”

“Hear what?”

In response, you clap your hands together three times, mimicking the sound of skin slapping. “Please.”

“You mean sex?”

“Duh! At least...” You shake your head, trying to fight tears. You don’t want to cry. “Not tonight. I don’t want to hear it.”

Bucky sighs. He’s already told you he isn’t going to, but you mean sex now, and he wants to make that aspect clear too.

“I am not going to be with Cherry in any way, okay, princess? You won’t hear a thing because there isn’t a thing going on, alright?”

You nod happily and giggle. “Yes, sir.” You move your hand to your forehead, imitating a military gesture.

“Wow, such a good girl,” he snorts. “I expect this attitude from you tomorrow too, love.”

You roll your eyes, still in a good mood. “I’m sleepy, go away.”

“After you made demands about my sex life?” Bucky laughs. “Should I make demands about yours?”

“Go away!”

“Oh wait, there’s no sex li-” You hit him with the nearest pillow you find before he can finish his sentence.

“Augh! So aggressive.” He leaves the room still giggling.

*

You wake up in the morning feeling well-rested, without any headache or stomach ache. You can’t believe how embarrassing you acted toward Bucky. Like who are you to ask him not to sleep with someone? You wonder how he hasn’t told you to fuck off already.

He’s so kind, and here you are, lying to him, just like the rest of the family. Just like William. You’re deceiving him… 

Even if he was into you after all, you lying to him like this would ruin any potential relationship before it even begins.

You need to stay away from him.

Packing doesn’t take as long as you anticipated. William helps you get your bag in the car, and your family makes sure to remind you to be a good girl as if you are a naughty kid being left with a new nanny.

As much as you avoided Bucky until then, you can’t help but stare at him as Cherry hugs him. Indeed, there is nothing but friendliness all over his face, and you wonder if this is how it’d be if you fucked him —in another universe. You’d still be his friend? You cannot understand this. Not even a little.

Unfortunately, you don’t notice Rebecca looking at you until it’s too late. As she hugs you goodbye, her words make you freeze.

“Take care of yourself, and please don’t play with both of my brothers’ hearts.”

The shame floods your entire body, overwhelming you. You rush to the bathroom to splash water on your face, attempting to hide the tears staining your cheeks.

You fucked up really badly.

Tags:

@charmedbysarge @identity2212 @vicmc624 @cjand10 @mayusenpai666 @abitofblues

[howlett-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

4. John Fucking Marston

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao

Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.

Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea

WC: 4.5k

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 

In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 

Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 

You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 

It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 

The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 

Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 

You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 

“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 

“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.”

“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”

Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 

“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”

John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 

“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 

“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”

He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 

“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 

You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 

“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”

“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”

“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case

He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”

You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 

“Poor Abigail.” 

She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.

“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”

Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…

“You’re gonna marry her?” 

“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”

Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 

You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 

“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”

“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 

For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 

“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.

You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 

-

The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 

Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 

Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 

John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 

You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 

You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 

You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 

Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 

It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.

“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 

“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 

Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 

“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 

“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 

“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 

“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”

As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.

“Why you always doin’ that?” 

“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 

“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 

What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 

“M’not, just the truth.” 

And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 

You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 

“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm, very much so…”

He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 

You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 

You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 

“Arthur?” 

“Yeah?” He turned his head again.

“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 

Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 

“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”

“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”

You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 

“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”

You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 

“Where does he live?” 

You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 

“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”

“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 

“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 

A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 

“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 

You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 

“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 

Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 

“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 

You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 

You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 

You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 

He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”

And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 

You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 

-

A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 

Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 

Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 

“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.

“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”

“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”

“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 

“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”

“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 

“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 

John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 

By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 

“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 

And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 

“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”

And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 

Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 

-

You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.

“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 

“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”

“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”

And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 

After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 

“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”

“You were the one who approached him, then?” 

“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.

“What did you say to him?” 

“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”

“And I suppose that didn’t help.”

“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”

“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 

“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 

“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 

“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”

He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”

And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 

Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…

Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo

[youaintnothinbuta]

Hello!!! I saw you wanted some sort of army Elvis prompt so I thought I'd send one through!!! Love your stuff by the way. Daddy!Elvis 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he's so cute!!

Ok...how about...Elvis is doing like a party (can be army Elvis or Vegas Elvis or anyone of his phases up to you!) and he and the reader have been together a while, but while they're catering...this one guy and old friend of Elvis's gets a bit TOO touchy feely with her, and takes advantage of her going around catering to people by asking for continuous drinks and stuff until he's drunk. When she tells Elvis he laughs it off the first time. But then when the drunk man gets angry with the reader for refusing to serve him any more drinks he gets a little 'too' angry for Daisy and does something (you can make up what) and then she tells Elvis when she pulls him aside in tears. And then he becomes super 'protective' Elvis....please? 🥺🥺

Hope this is ok!

❤️

“She’s being a real brat.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Omg thank you for replying n for the inspo ily!!! I hope this is okay 💗 I purposely didn’t mention a time so read it as any Elvis era you like

Summary: see request^^^

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x reader

Word count: 970

Warnings: fluff!! There is some unwelcome attention and arguing but Elvis looks after you <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Don’t forget, baby, we gotta bring all those chairs outside for everyone before people start arriving,” you reminded Elvis, as the two of you prepared for the party he was hosting.

“Oh, right, thank you honey.” He kissed the side of your head, heading outside to deal with that, while you unpacked the crackers and cheeses and alcohol, his chef preparing the actual food, of course.

That evening, once everyone started arriving, you and your husband made yourselves busy, making sure to greet everyone. As the evening wore on, you found yourself bustling around, making sure everyone’s drinks were topped up and their plates were full. Amidst the lively chatter and music, you were approached by an old friend of Elvis’, a guy you vaguely remembered from previous gatherings.

“There she is! What a stunner Elvis has got himself,” he complimented you as he took another full glass of champagne from your hand, though it didn’t really feel like a compliment.

With a polite smile, you acknowledged him. “Thank you. Yes, it has been a while.”

Initially, his conversation remained innocuous, but as the night progressed, his demeanor shifted. His touches lingered longer than was appropriate, his compliments veering into the realm of discomfort. You thought it was quite interesting too how he only became this way the moment your husband was out of sight.

“Why’s your mister letting you walk around like this? I can’t take my eyes off you,” he remarked, his gaze lingering a little too intently as he brushed his hand over your lower back.

“Thank you,” you replied, a nervous edge creeping into your voice. “I should attend to the drinks.”

Stepping away, you discreetly sought out Elvis, who was engaged in conversation with other guests.

“Elvis, could I speak with you for a moment?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to you, concern furrowing his brow. “Of course, what’s the matter?”

Hesitantly, you confided in him about the man’s unwelcome advances, hoping for some form of intervention.

“That guy, he’s been getting too familiar with me. I can’t even place a name to his face, I don’t even know him.” you pleaded quietly.

“Don’t stress, honey. He’s just being friendly,” he reassured, though his words did little to assuage your discomfort.

As the evening wore on, you went from feeling uneasy to borderline violated. The man, now visibly intoxicated, began demanding more drinks, despite his already inebriated state.

“Hey, sweetheart, another round over here!” he slurred, his voice growing increasingly belligerent.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve had enough,” you replied, trying to maintain composure despite the rising tension.

“Pardon?” He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

You knew he was trying to give you an opportunity to change your words, but you didn’t, repeating yourself. “You’ve had enough to drink.”

“Listen, little girl,” he plunked his empty glass down on a table, his words slurring.

He gave you a gross smile, curled his finger towards you in a come hither motion. As not to cause a scene in front of other guests, you listened to him, even if it was against your better judgment, and leaned in to him.

He positioned his face far too close to yours, startling you with a yell, “you don’t tell me when I’ve had enough. I’ll have as much as I damn well please!”

Your heart raced, and a sense of dread crept over you as his demeanor grew increasingly aggressive. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to find safety in the presence of Elvis. How dare someone speak to you like that? Especially in your own home. You feel uncomfortable and unsafe, and you most certainly didn’t want him in your home anymore.

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You were able to pretty quickly and easily pick Elvis out from the large amounts of people, tugging on his shirt to pull him aside.

“Baby, what happened?” Elvis asked, immediately clocking your glossy eyes. You began to recount what he had said to you.

“Elvis, he won’t leave me alone. He’s getting aggressive,” you implored, desperation colouring your words. Elvis’ expression hardened as he listened, his concern giving way to resolve.

Elvis approached the guy, who smile at him.

“Just the man I was looking for! Will you tell your girl to get me a drink, she’s being a real brat.”

“Listen to me, ain’t no one gonna talk to me like that, especially not about my wife,” Elvis asserted, his voice cutting through the noise of the party, “you need to leave.”

The man’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of defiance as he squared his shoulders, clearly intent on challenging Elvis’s authority. “Come on, buddy, don’t be like that,” he slurred, his words punctuated by the stench of alcohol on his breath.

Elvis’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he glared at the man. “I said leave,” he growled, his tone brooking no argument.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, tension high, then, with a defiant snort, the man turned on his heel, stumbling towards the door with unsteady steps. As soon as he was out of sight, Elvis turned back to you, his eyes softening with concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice gentle as he reached out to cup your cheek.

“I am now.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, I should have listened to you. Why don’t you hang around me for a while.”

“It’s okay,” you placed your hand over his that was on your cheek. He placed a kiss on your lips, before pulling you into him, dancing with you. You laughed at his spontaneity, as he spun you around, mouthing the words I love you. You replied the same way, as others around you cheered and danced, the party quickly picking back up.

[aonungslvr]

five fingers ?!

pairing ; tsu’tey te rongloa atey’itan x f!navi! reader

taggings ; 🪽🐾 (pinch of 🍂)

notes ; dialogue in bold is spoken in na’vi, dialogue in italics is spoken in english

summary ; after the arrival of jake sully, tsu’tey notices his mate taking an interest in the dreamwalker — why?

2.1k words

as the tsahìk spoke, ending her conversation with the alien, you found yourself more concerned with the new creature himself. neytiri had said eywa gave her a sign? what’s more interesting then eywa choosing a demon!

despite the harsh atmosphere, full of angry warriors, your yellow eyes glowed in fascination at the human, him being the first of his kind you’ve ever seen.

obviously there had been talk of the new shorter and paler species destroying your home. the forests being torn down, air becoming thicker, and of course the giant devices they landed on your land. however, due mostly to tsu’tey, you had been able to keep away from their machines and people, until now. but hey, it wasn’t your fault this guy tumbled into the forest!

of course, tsu’tey in his anger caught wind of your sudden attraction towards the false navi.

“just what are you staring at?” he spoke in a prying tone, though he already knew the answer.

“a human ma tsu’tey! a real one!” your voice was full of interest and excitement, and you could hear the smile in your tone.

you peered from behind your mates back, and if he wasn’t there, then there’s no doubt you would be up in the five fingered man’s face poking and prodding to your hearts content.

“look at his hands! he’s got an extra finger!”

at this point you were nearly jumping up and down, causing tsu’tey to hiss at the guy who called himself “jake sully.”

“he is nothing but an alien. will only bring harm.”

“gosh tsu’tey you never have any fun!”

as the crowd began to disperse at the exit of the tsahìk and olo’keytan, you tried your best to run up to jake before being held back by a growling tsu’tey. you would’ve protested for hours if your mate didn’t drag you back to your shared kelku like a run away nantang before you even got a word out.

later on that night, as tsu’tey patrolled the forest on his ikran, he let his thoughts get the best of him. he couldn’t wrap his head around why his mate was interested in this intruder of a man.

“wooah! jake you have hair above your eyes!”

“uh..what?” the newcomer still wasn’t accustomed to your language, so he relied on neytiri to translate.

“she says you look weird.” she spoke as she snarled.

she was clearly still angry her mother had placed her in charge of the training behind an avatar.

you weren’t all too familiar with the human language yourself, so you nodded in glee at hopes he understood what neytiri had said.

you ran your fingers around jakes face and eventually moved onto his hands, where you still couldn’t get over his extra finger.

“neytiri! ask him what this is!”

the dreamwalker was already looking at his appointed mentor, now turned translator.

“she wishes to know what you call your demon finger.”

“this little thing?” he moved his pinky up and down, taking it away from your grip.

“it’s..said called ‘pinky’”

you giggled at his attempt to speak in navi, which horribly failed, but you still got the message.

“pinky..” your whispered the foreign word to yourself while staring and holding onto jakes ‘pinky.’

it was around this time that tsu’tey had returned from leading the other hunters and it was obvious to the clan due to the roars of their ikrans.

“tsu’tey has returned! come jake!” you grabbed him solely by his pinky and did ur best to drag him with you.

despite him not being able to fully understand your language, he was able to make out the name “tsu’tey” and that scared him, considering he tried to kill him when jake first arrived.

“tsu’tey? the mean looking one? look i’m not sure if that’s the best idea..”

he began to trail off, listing different reasons for him to stay behind until a smack from neytiri shut him up.

“silence! just follow!”

if she was being honest, she wouldn’t be too against the avatar getting a beating from the olo’keytan-in-waiting, considering how awful jakes training is going.

as the three navi approached the large group of hunters being welcomed back, you began looking for your mate amongst the crowd. it didn’t take long for you to find each other as tsu’tey had been searching for you as well.

what he wasnt expecting, was for you to drag along the new demon behind you, only letting him go so you could embrace your mate. jake stood confused, and a little worried, behind you as tsu’tey stared daggers into his whole body. neytiri was close behind, only able to roll her eyes at the exchange.

“welcome back love! oh i missed you tons, what kinda food did you bring back? were u injured at all? how are the rest of the hunters?”

he was quickly bombarded with questions and yet still couldn’t take his eyes off the man who stood behind you. though at this point, the human had begun to talk to neytiri about the concept of hunters in the clan.

“what? oh..yes.” he answered vaguely as he looked back at you, realizing you had asked him some questions.

“tsu’tey you know what else jake has? he has hair on top of his eyes! oh-oh and his extra finger is called a ‘pinky!’ isnt that cool??”

you only spoke with happiness, filled with your new interest, but tsu’tey remained disgusted at the fact you had been spending more time with the human. he tightened the grip he had on your waist, pulling you a little closer to him and farther from jake.

“ah well..that’s great ma (y/n)..”

he was able to conceal his anger from you the best he could, it worked easily with you not being able to comprehend how anyone could hate this new creature.

later that night as you prepared dinner with the food the hunters had brought back and the help of your mate, tsu’tey decided to start a conversation.

“so..that human, jake sully, you’ve been spending a lot time around him, yeah?”

he tried his best to just sound curious and hide his true emotions towards the demon.

“oh yeah! he’s super cool tsu’tey! he has all these different stories on how life was back on earth, and his language is super funny too!”

you went on about more things that interested you about jake sully until an idea popped in your head

“i don’t think you guys have ever formally met, aside from when he first arrived, right? why don’t i arrange a meeting with all of us! you, me, neytiri, and jake!”

tsu’tey almost cut through his finger at this proposition, given he was cutting fruit for your meal. he debated with himself whether or not he should share his concerns until he glanced up at you.

you were smiling. the only emotion running through your veins at the time was joy, and your mate would be damned if anything he did would even have the slightest chance of taking away your happiness. so, he sat in silence.

“so what do you think?” you pried for an answer.

“i’m going to be quite busy with the warriors for the next few days, you go without me.”

you frowned and let out a little disappointed sigh,

“if you say so..”

a week or two later you sat alone with neytiri, as she had told you she would like to speak to you about something.

you both sat on the forest floor, you possessing a mix of excited and curious on your face, as she looked worried.

“so? are you gonna tell me?”

“my eywa (y/n). you can be so impatient!”

you giggled and pushed the taller woman’s knee, hoping to get her to spit out whatever she wanted to tell you.

she took in a breath and leaned in towards your floppy ear, whispering what she needed to get off her chest.

“oh my eywa, seriously?!!! oh neytiri this is amazing!!” you were quickly silenced as neytiri covered your mouth with her hands.

“hush! you are too loud for own good! do you just want to tell the whole clan??”

you tried your best to calm yourself down and speak calmly,

“are you going to tell him?? should i tell him?? does he already know?!”

“nobody knows! and it will stay that way.” she thought to herself for a moment, “unless..”

“unless..?” you dragged on.

“fine. come closer.”

the sun began to rise, lighting up the kelku of you and your mate, tsu’tey. he had already been awake and was enjoying his morning holding onto you in your shared hammock. as the sun hit your eyes, you began to stir awake.

“mm..time is it.?” your voice was still full of sleep as you clung onto your lover.

“the sun has just risen,” he spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your braids.

you shot up quickly once the gears in your head started turning, neytiri!

“hey you okay? lay back down love,” tsu’tey pawed at your arm hoping to bring you back down with him.

“i’m sorry dear i really am! i forgot i was supposed to go fetch jake this morning!”

at the mention of jake sully, tsu’tey sat up as well, finally giving up on keeping his questions inside.

“jake? why? it’s barely morning my love, why don’t you fall back asleep with me.”

“eywa i wish i could, i really do, but i need to go get him!”

before you could get out of the hammock, you were pulled back down by your much stronger mate.

“you would choose jake over me? you have been hanging around him too much these past weeks.” he finally spoke out.

“huh? oh it’s no-“ you were stopped with more of tsu’teys recent concerns.

“you hang out with him nearly everyday, does he make you happier then i do? do you like his human stories more than you like my hunting ones? you do remember that he’s a demon, right?”

you tried to intervene and explain what was really happening but you couldn’t manage to get a word out.

“have you chosen him over me? have you forgotten we are mated before eywa? it seems you have decided to put this ‘jake sully’ above me.”

you sat in shock, unable to even speak. as you blinked repeatedly and tried to tell him what was really happening until a knock at your kelku stopped you.

“(y/n) you promised! you were to lead jake towards the tree of souls so i could tell him!” it was neytiri, complaining on how you were late to your duties.

tsu’tey paused, looking between you and neytiri, who had now entered your shared space.

“am i interrupting something?” the navi woman spoke, concerned seeing you and tsu’tey half asleep in your hammock together.

you looked back at tsu’tey and explained what neytiri was talking about, “you think to much for your own good sometimes. the only one who wants jake around here is neytiri.”

she yipped in shock at what you had just told your mate, the man being trained under her father, who would most certainly tell him.

“(y/n)! i told you to not tell anyone!!” she complained, you giggled and continued explaining.

“you are the only man i want tsu’tey. i cant even imagine myself looking at anyone the way i look at you.”

you placed your hands on his face and cupped his cheeks, embarrassing him infront of the blue woman who stood in your doorway watching.

“i love you tsu’tey te rongloa atey’itan. and i see you, i can never have that with another man.” you waited for his response.

his eyes were wider, and he looked at neytiri, eyeing her towards the exit.

“oh, right, yeah i’ll go. hurry up in here i still need (y/n) for this!” she spoke as she finally left the couple in peace.

unable to find the right words, your loving mate opted for kissing you instead. it was full of passion and love, as tsu’tey could finally stop worrying if his beloved would leave him for a human.

“i..am sorry for assuming ma (y/n). i was worried is all. a new man enters my home and suddenly my mate spends all her time with him.”

you nodded understandingly and went on, “the only interest i have in jake is his ‘pinky.’ i quite enjoy the human customs he has.”

much like weeks prior, a new idea formed in your mind.

“say, tsu’tey…would you like to join me as we lead jake to neytiri, where she can confess her feelings?” you smiled through your words.

he let out a rare laugh and confessed, “i would love too.”

hello everyone ! this is my first time attempting writing anything, so i hope it’s okay! i love tsu’tey probably more then average so i just had to start with him <3

[lostyesterday]

There’s an ethical question in Star Trek I’ve seen several people here talk about that I’ve thought about a lot. Basically, what are the ethics of having a romantic or sexual relationship with a non-sentient holographic version of a real person? This issue is brought up several times in canon, but never dealt with well, in my opinion. The main canon discussions of this topic that I remember (and it’s possible I forgot something) are in Booby Trap (TNG) where Geordi has a very brief romantic relationship with a holographic version of a real woman he’s never met, in Hollow Pursuits (TNG) where Barclay presumably has romantic/sexual relationships with extremely out of character holographic versions of Deanna and Beverly, in Meridian (DS9) where a guy wants Quark to sell him a holographic version of Kira to have sex with, and in Human Error (VOY) where Seven has a semi-long-term romantic and sexual relationship with a holographic version of Chakotay.

So, first of all, I don’t think that any of those instances mentioned are morally okay. Booby Trap is the most complicated case morally speaking since, to my memory, Geordi didn’t intentionally initiate anything romantic, though he didn’t stop it once it started either. I don’t want to imply that what Geordi did is morally as bad as the other examples I’m discussing, especially since Geordi is the only character of color being discussed here and his actions are not really equivalent in intention or impact to the other characters’. As an episode, Booby Trap doesn’t seem to have a clear idea of whether or not what Geordi is doing is unethical. In fact, it felt to me as if that question wasn’t something that occurred to the writers at all (until Galaxy’s Child, but that’s a whole other thing and the hologram portion of it is arguably the least messed up thing there, so I’m ignoring it in relation to this topic). Hollow Pursuits does portray what Barclay does negatively, but I feel like the episode is much more concerned with the negative emotional effects this has for Barclay rather than for Deanna and Beverly. Meridian, from what I remember, is the only episode to portray this situation as definitively bad, and Kira is portrayed as justified in being angry. However, the episode is a mess in other ways and does not explore the topic with nuance, making light of it with humor when I think it needed to be taken more seriously. Human Error is in some ways the most baffling case here because what Seven does is portrayed almost positively, as something that is a potentially good step in Seven’s “social development”. Apparently, there is no thought given to what Chakotay would think of the situation. I’ve seen people suggest that the narrative and fandom treatment of Seven versus the other characters is a gendered double standard, which I do think makes sense.

But the problem here isn’t having a sexual/romantic relationship with a hologram, the problem is that the person didn’t consent to having their holographic image used this way. There’s obviously nothing wrong with having sex or a relationship with a hologram not based on anyone’s image, or based on the image of someone who gave clear consent to have their image used in that way. But using someone’s image this way without their consent is pretty obviously analogous to making nonconsensual porn of someone. Do the ethics of this situation change if the hologram is of a historical figure? What about a famous person who is still alive? I don’t necessarily have answers here, but I do think the situation can become more complicated.

And then there’s another factor to consider – is the sexual/romantic relationship the biggest issue here? In the cases of Hollow Pursuits and Human Error, Barclay and Seven’s simulations of the crew are much more extensive than just the romantic/sexual portions. Would it have been all right for Barclay to create potentially offensive and demeaning holographic versions of his crewmates if there was no romantic/sexual component? Would it be okay for Seven to recreate a version of every Voyager crew member and live out an intricate alternate life with them without any of their consent if she never had romantic/sexual relationships with any of them? Is it any less a violation of someone’s rights to use their image without consent for, say, a propaganda campaign for an issue they disagree with, or a story that portrays their holographic version as a horrible person? That second scenario is the plot of the Voyager episode Author Author. This episode seems to take the moral stance that it’s bad for the Doctor to use the images of his fellow Voyager crew members to portray horrible characters, but there are other questions it doesn’t raise. Would it have been okay for the Doctor to use their images without consent if he had portrayed their holographic versions positively? What is the line between an acceptable and unacceptable usage of another person’s image without their consent? Is it ever okay to use a person’s holographic image without their consent? Is such consent implied when a person agrees to holographic scans of their body? What exactly is one consenting to when they consent to have a holographic version of themself created? I don’t necessarily have answers to these questions, I just wish any of these episodes had explored these issues with more nuance. And I do think that it’s important to consider extending the question of consent here beyond sex and romance.

[purrplegyuu]

The best for both of us | Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Writter!oc (named Seoli), animator!Beomgyu

Warnings: penetrative sex, oral (fem receiving), clitoris stimulation, unprotected sex, overstimulation, poor plot, gaslighting, non corresponded love, toxic Beomgyu, soft som Beomgyu, sub reader, lemmie know if im missing something.

Word count: 2,6k

Masterlist

“We’ve already read your book and it’s amazing. We also saw the animations, and we all thought they are perfect for our style. However…” he stops talking.

“However, it’s too disturbing for anyone under fifteen” says his boss. The woman, the owner of the video games company, who wears an expensive suit that screams everywhere she’s a squared closed box. I don’t really know how she manages a video games company. “Which wouldn’t concern us if we didn’t want the money, but we need this project to be suitable for all ages”

“I talked about this before, I have already rejected various contracts because I’m not interested in any project in which my art is changed” I say.

“Well, as I already said before, we need this to be suitable for all ages”

I stand up, taking my documents from the table, and when I’m about to leave, Beomgyu takes my arm, forcing me to sit down.

“Well, why don’t we listen to their proposal?” He asks, looking at me with killing eyes, which I don’t really understand since he’s always been on my side when I rejected last projects for the same reason.

“Yeah, sure. We just thought it would be better if Kira’s enemy isn’t her mother but her father. This way, we can avoid some future problems with angry mothers” one of the workers points out in the presentation, the part where all of the changes appear. I frown, disgusted. “We can also make her boyfriend the good guy instead of just another enemy—you know, for the love scenes we need to create a fandom” A good boyfriend? In real life? I cannot help laughing sarcastically at this, to which Beomgyu hits me with his elbow on my arm. “And she might also change a little bit—see, this is Kira before, and this might be her after” the picture on the presentation shows the draw Beomgyu made with my instructions. I told him to use only black ink, and draw it very messy. I remember the day we decided that this art style was just perfect for my book. When I created Kira I was thinking of the worst part of the world, I even got inspired by my own life. She’s too thin because she had very poor eating habits, she’s tall, her hair is messy and greasy and the clothes she wears are made for someone bigger. Which makes a big contrast with the whole new character they made—this Kira is short, and has a big pair of round boobs, a tiny waist and big thighs; her hair is pretty and… she just seems like another video game girl character.

“We will skip her eating disorder, and she will not die at the end. There’s obviously more changes to do, but those are the most important ones”

Everyone looks at me while I try to do as much as I can in order to not explode there and then. I feel just so offended that I cannot even speak. Even if I open my mouth, nothing comes out.

I stand up, take my papers and get out of the office, not even worrying if Beomgyu tries to hold me once again.

After an hour or two of getting back home, I finally start to calm down. That’s exactly when Beomgyu enters home too.

“Fuck, you could have waited for me, you know?” He wasn’t mad, that’s just his usual behavior.

“Seoli, we need to talk” I do not turn around to face him, keeping up on reading the instructions of the new bedroom lamp I just bought. “Seoli” he takes my hand, forcing me to turn around. “Why do you keep rejecting any minor change in your books?”

I turn my eyes. “You should know that, Gyu. My books are all too personal. If I write something is because I feel it, and I don’t like it to be changed”

“Yeah, I understand that, but you cannot keep rejecting every opportunity you have” he sighs. “See, babe, I think this is the best company you’ve been contacted by, and if you want to succeed, you should sign with them”

I frown. “Why do you like this company that much? I’ve rejected thousands of companies before, and you always supported me”

“I’m just looking for the best for both of us. We’re twenty now, but soon, we’re gonna be thirty, and forty, and fifty; we need to make money for the future… this isn’t a big company—small enough for you to be important and ask for almost everything you want, but also big enough to succeed monetarily and as an artist. This is just what we need”

“I don’t care about the money, everything I care about is being loyal to myself. I won’t sell myself and my art to some shitty company. The things they said to me in that reunion were almost insulting! How the fuck am I supposed to be fine while seeing one of my deepest books being thrown away this bad and be happy with it because I MIGHT get two hundred dollars a month from now on?! Specially in this one book!… this is almost my own autobiography…” the last words were almost audible, very low in contrast with the rest of my screams. It hurts my heart as I said it.

I see some kind of compassion in my colleague’s eyes. We never talked too deeply about it, but I did tell him that most of my books have some kind of self insert somewhere, but never as important as this one.

He takes my body in his hands, hugging me so comfortably as one only time before—when I confessed to him, and he said sorry because he couldn’t correspond to me.

He moves apart without letting me go, and unexpectedly, takes the back of my neck and kisses me. He only touches my lips with his once, moving away just a little, and then kisses me deeper when I take the back of his neck also with my right hand and his shoulder with my left hand.

He’s gentle at first, only leaving some close mouthed kisses on my lips, until he notices I’m more eager, and then, he devours my mouth whole like it's the last thing he’s gonna do on earth.

His hands travel all over my body as he starts kissing the side of my neck, sucking on my skin, biting and then licking, to which I cannot do anything but hum in pleasure—he touches my back, caresses my waist and pushes the hem of my gray shirt up.

I squeeze his shoulder when he take off my shirt and starts kissing my clavicles, and scream of pleasure as he bites the bone.

While devouring my torax, he manages to take off my black bralette, and kisses all of the skin of my small breasts, making me wonder if he actually likes the curvy girls he shows me of it it’s always been nothing but a façade in order to no look like a pervert.

He takes my hand from the back of his neck, moving away from me, unbuttoning my low-rise jeans and lowering my panties, then guiding me to sit on the couch. I oblige, and soon he’s kissing my body again, my abdomen, my pelvis, my thighs—which he takes and puts them over his shoulders before looking at me, right in the eyes as if looking for consent, but keeps going without a second of thought.

I scream when I feel his muscle exploring all of my cunt without a warning.

“Gyu-“ I moan while tapping his back with the tip of my foot.

He notices I got more sensitive everytime he stimulates my clitoris with his tongue, so he decides to do precisely this while one of his fingers caresses my entrance. A second finger enters, and he starts scissoring as if measuring if something will be able to come in.

My hand found its way on Beomgyu’s fluffy hair, which I take strongly trying to move it apart but also trying to keep it as close as I can.

Once he positions himself on the perfect way to have me screaming his name once and again and again, he starts doing it nonstop, faster, and holding my body by my pelvic area so I don’t move too much. My whole body trembles from pleasure, and I feel the knot on my lower abdomen tightening so much I feel it’s about to break.

And within thirty seconds morr, my whole body spasms under his, while I scream nonesenses and cry his name. He keeps on licking my whole cunt, cleaning me from my orgasm, making me cry at the oversensitivity. I try to push his face away, however, my strength after an orgasm is always null.

He goes back to the same speed as earlier, to which I scream: “Too much, gyu!”, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his pace becomes even faster, making my head spin as I unexpectedly orgasm once again, faster than the first time.

He caresses my pelvic bones, licking my juices from his face. He stands up and kisses my lips once again, letting me taste my own cum.

I hear his right hand unbuttoning his jeans while his left hand helps him hover over me. I hear his clothes fall to the ground, and then, his tip touches my left thigh. I move away from the kiss for a second, moaning as I mentally prepare myself for having sex after one and a half large years of not being active.

“I know it’s always been hard to go through changes, babe,” he mutters in between kisses. “but everything I’m doing is looking for the best for you. You’re really successful with your books, but you don’t know if it will ever change as you grow up” the contrast between his lovely words and his condescending voice tone, and his hand lifting one of my legs up to my ribs making me go crazy. “Besides, you can ask for any change you want, and as long as it doesn’t make the game too disturbing for kids under twelve years old, they will accept it” the tip of his cock touches my clitoris at first, and then, he explores my whole cunt, looking too casual in contrast with my high expression. “Seoli, I will always be by your side” and suddenly, that option didn’t seem like trash anymore.

With that, he puts the head of his cock inside my entrance, to which I scream squeezing his shoulder. He goes back to kiss my clavicles while going on until he bottoms out. Feeling his tip against my spongy point, the deepest part of my cunt, makes me forget about all of the doubts I have, and I already know that the second I wake up tomorrow, I will be calling the company and ask for them to meet again.

He doesn’t give me time to get used to his big size, and starts moving immediately after he bottoms out, at a savage pace that makes my head spin. The way he’s hitting my cervix strongly over and over again has me cumming after less than two or three minutes. He doesn’t stop there though, and doesn’t even slow down. The second orgasm comes after maybe five minutes more, much more intense and piercing. My legs tremble, and he chuckles while taking my other leg and lifting it up to my chest also, making his cock go even deeper.

He holds both my legs up with one hand while the other stimulates my clitoris in circular motion, nonstoping, without giving me time to recover.

I cum once again, and my whole body feels so tense I feel like I'm about to break.

“Gyu-yu, I can’t anymore” I cry, the tears spilling from the corner of my eyes as I take his shoulders, trying to move his body away from mine. “please”

“I know, sweet, but you’re gonna help me cum too, right? You’re not a selfish princess, right?” His face is not close to mine now, and my legs find their way on his shoulders while he prepares himself for fucking my cunt faster and stronger than before.

I squeeze the silk of the couch, while my tears run down my face and all over the couch, and I scream his name over and over. His pace becoming even more animalistic as I feel his cock twitch inside of my vagina, the heat inside of me making me feel like I’m about to be torn there and then. The feeling is so unbearable, but also addictive. At this point, I don’t even understand myself.

He cums inside of me with a guttural growl, and keeps fucking his cum in for some seconds before using his hand to try to put his cum in when it tries to escape. I cum on his fingers one last time, and he leaves a kiss on my forehead.

(…)

I fix my lanyard with my work ID on my neck, holding my drawing tablet and the handmade sketches I’ve made.

“Oh, see! There’s coffee over there!” Beomgyu says amazed.

“Every company has coffee for workers, Gyu”

He goes to get a cup while I look for the office. The boss asked me to meet her once I accepted working with her. I signed the contract a week ago after making her accept the clause of letting my opinion be the most important one over there.

“Oh, Seoli!” That voice… it’s just impossible to forget it. “Oh my god, I’m so excited to see you again! Ever since high school I knew you were gonna succeed, you’re so talented!”

We went to high school together, and after we graduated, we also went to the same college. She stuck to me since then, but I never liked her a lot. She wasn’t a bad person, I just didn’t match her energy. However, I did everything I could in order to separate her from me in college, right after I realized Beomgyu liked her. Beomgyu and I met at college—the three of us decided to study an art major—, and it took us only one semester to start living together as roommates, and two more months to start working together on the animation of my books. We left college so we could put all of our time on making money with the animations, and luckily, that was enough for Beomgyu to forget her. At least that was what I thought.

“Dami? Do you work here?” I ask.

“Kind of. My mother is the owner of this company, and she likes me to participate on all of the projects. We’re gonna be a team! Just like in college!” She says with a big smile. “Where’s Beomgyu, by the way?”

Everything makes sense suddenly, why did he get so excited when I received the invitation to this company, and why was he so eager for me to come, and why did he want me to stay here.

I turn around slowly, and as soon as I find him with a scared expression, I feel my eyes ache.

He fucked me so he could get a chance with the one girl he likes.

How dumb.

[kairiscorner]

definitely not me self-projecting (pt 1)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hobie helps you blow off some steam (hobie brown x angry reader)

word count: 1,063

in a blind fit of rage, you slammed your door shut and kicked your shoes off your feet angrily. you hated when your family got like this, teasing you when you were already evidently on the brink of exploding out of sheer anger and frustration. you wished you had a sign that read 'fuck off or see what happens', and if only you could show them just how terrifying you can be when angered. you hated how violent you could be when like this, and as much as you wanted to keep in all the rage you were experiencing right then and there, everything just... came tumbling down.

too many shitty things happening at once while annoyances filled your ears and made their way into your mind was so overwhelming, and the only way you could overcome that overwhelming feeling was to shout at it, get angry it--but you didn't wanna hurt anybody, it never made you feel any better. as you lay down on the bed, trying to breathe, ignoring your parents' unsolicited opinion on your behavior when they don't even know what's going on with you, you heard a voice by your open window. "i have a feeling you wanna rip some heads off some idiots right now." hobie brown, of course it'd be him, who else would scale your apartment's walls at the middle of the night and slink over to your window just to talk?

you turned to your side, feeling your anger mellowing a little from hobie's presence. "i don't wanna talk right now." you muttered, already cursing at yourself in your mind for not being able to sound polite. but fuck, how does one manage to stay polite when they're already resisting the urge to rip shelves off their bedroom walls and throw their bed upside down in a fit of rage?

"can i at least come in, then?" hobie asked you as you nodded, and though it was hard to tell, hobie got the message and entered the minute you let him come in. he sat close to you on the bed as he took in a deep breath, from this distance, he could hear the muffled voices of your parents. hobie chuckled as he listened in. "wow, they're acting like they know everything. it's funny, they're even pretending like they never wanted to act out as teenagers, as if... i don't know, mindless obedience is fun." he said as you peered at him from the corner of your eye, wordlessly.

hobie looked back at you with a smile, one that offered comfort as opposed to condescension–one that was real, a real smile that had no undertones of patronization. "sorry, did i overstep a boundary?" he asked you in a soft, concerned voice. you shook your head and hobie nodded. "alright. well... i won't ask you what happened, since that'd be the last thing you need right now. but i'll do anything you need me to for you to feel better, and i mean anything." he said as he took a pillow from your bed and placed it next to your head.

hobie wordlessly sat with you in the silence, not saying a word and instead offering his presence as comfort for you, he knew that if you wanted to talk about it, you would–he wouldn't ever force it out of you. soon, when you began to speak lightly to hobie about how you've been feeling lately, all hobie did was listen. he'd sit and look at you and... listen.

"well, that isn't your fault now, is it?" hobie asked in a rhetorical manner. "whatever you feel, y'feel it. if you keep it inside of you, it'll just... burst. don't ever feel like a monster for feeling enraged, it's not just one thing that angered you, i think, it's... it's a lot of things, isn't it?" he asked you as he moved closer to you, brushing the hairs away from your face as you gazed up at him. "screw what everyone else says, i like to joke around and tease some grumps i know, but even i know that teasing someone when they're pissed is the wrong move to make. i won't say your behavior was justified, but you just... you can't help it, okay? you need an outlet, and that's why i'm here." he said as he got up and walked over to the window with a big grin.

hobie put on his mask as he sat on your windowsill and teetered on it. "whaddya say we make like a tree and swing out into the night?" he offered you as he extended his hand out to you. you chuckled as you slowly got up and took his hand, with hobie gently pulling you towards his chest as you said, "hobie, trees don't swi–" but you were cut off by your yelping as he swung deep and jumped up high, feeling the cold wind pass you by and sweep your hair away from your face.

into the night, you two went around the city, seeing the beauty hidden in the deep recesses of the evening; taking in the moonlight and the twinkling of the stars as you both made the night yours. you were starting to cool down now, forgetting most of what angered and stressed you out, and feeling like you didn't need to get violent or yell at anyone anymore.

"i hope you're feeling better, i want nothing more than for you to just... feel happy, be happy, y'know." hobie said as he got you a soda from a vending machine he hijacked. you smiled and thanked him as he clinked soda cans with you, thinking if maybe you slept away that anger you felt while you were in your bed. but no, this was no dream–and you couldn't be any more delighted at that.

it's because of hobie that you feel like all things will pass, eventually, you just have to find the right outlet to let go of the bad and negative feelings and thoughts. you weren't bad, you weren't evil for being angry, you were just that–angry, and that was okay. and through hobie, you were now angry no longer, more in love, you were, but like hell you were gonna tell him that, better wait for next time, you thought to yourself as you gulped down the fizzy drink.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @solecitoszn @hearts4hobie

[r0ttenhearts]

I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH YOUR ANGST FICS

IVE READ THAT ONE HEIZOU ONE OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND IM CURRENTLY CRYING ABT IT RIGHT NOW

( i really need more heizou angst, pretty please… with a cherry on top )

ANYWAYS I LOVE UR WORKS

🫶🫶🫶🫶

you’re just like them

heizou x reader x slight scaramouche

sypnosis: heizou’s promise to make a new life together after your breakup with scaramouche crumbles

warnings: angst, no comfort, infidelity

“i hate seeing you like this (y/n).” heizou’s soft whisper shook your core as you dropped the shard of glass into the sink. in a fit of rage you had struck your mirror, clutching a shard in your hand at an attempt to clean it up. but you couldn’t let it go. not until the glass sliced through your skin and heizou found you. his concerned voice cut through the still air. none of it felt real, even now.

“i hate feeling like this.” you could only whisper back. your hair now framing your face as silent tears slipped down your cheek. heizou took a step closer to your form that was over the bathroom sink. hesitant arms wrapping around you as you silently wept.

heizou knew you had seen it. the way scaramouche had flaunted a new girl only a few days after dumping you. the new girl in his life had claimed it was their one month anniversary, heizou knew you’d heard it by the way your eyes widened and hands shook.

what he didn’t expect was the rage that came out of you. he expected some tears, but not the angry scream that left your usually sweet lips. the silence that followed the glass shattering was what scared him the most. he’d never seen you in such a state.

but with a gentle tug, heizou had you seated on your couch. a first aid kit next to him on the cushion. he pressed an alcohol pad against your palm where the cut was. you sucked in your teeth at the sting, but didn’t say a word.

with the first wrap of gauze he broke the silence. “i want you to be happy, (y/n). i want you to lean on me in your times of need.. not do things like this. i know i’m scaramouche’s friend but, you come first. i don’t think i can even look at the guy after he’s done this to you.”

your blank stare embarrassed him as he cleared his throat, finishing the wrapping on your hand. “i just care about you, (y/n). i want you to know that. i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. i’ll make you happy, i promise. i want you to have a happier, better life. one without him.”

“okay.” you whispered. “okay, what?”

“i think.. after everything, you’re the only one who’s shown real care for me. everyone else sided with him. i guess you really are all i have.” you almost mumbled, speaking low as heizou shifted closer to you to hear. he nodded gently before pulling you to him, hugging your shaking form. you hadn’t noticed you were shaking, or the tears that didn’t seem to stop.

after that night things seemed to look up for you. every morning you’d wake up to heizou’s knock at your door. his usual playfully flirty smile on his lips as he’d help you get ready for the day, or follow you around when you had errands. he made it a point to be at your place at least once a day.

the gradual closeness had you weary at first. he was scara’s friend first, after all. you had met heizou at kazuha’s bong party only a year prior. you both had sat in a corner for most of the party after everyone had taken a hit. scara had a tendency to get angry, and you fully intended on staying away from that. but heizou had unexpectedly joined you.

you figured he only made you that promise to get dirt to tell scaramouche. after two months of the same routine with heizou you let your guard down. with that he was almost always with you. he’d find himself at your place more than his own after five months.

five months turned into a new years promise. his hands clutching one of yours as he professed his hidden feelings for you, which you timidly accepted. no one had made you feel the way you felt for him. not as safe or valued.

your third month anniversary didn’t go as planned, though. heizou was late to the reservation you had made for the special day. your brows furrowed as you typed another text to him, asking him where he was.

you didn’t receive a response. so you left, 30 minutes after the time you had gotten to the restaurant.

you blinked back angry tears as you walked to your car. how could he do this to you? he was always with you, so where was he now?

your car door hastily opened and closed, throwing your bag into the passenger seat as you stared at the open chat with heizou. it was filled with nothing but messages and messages from you. his texts were now but a few words long, always short. while your side had multiple lines. had it always been like this?

you had noticed how he shifted away from you during the movie the other night, but you figured he was just getting more comfortable. not getting away from you.

“let me get the door for you, my dear.” a familiar muffled voice made your head shoot up as you saw him. his familiar mop of burgundy hair with that flirty smirk as he held the door open for a woman with blonde hair. you could see the pink tinting her cheeks from behind your windshield. she giggled as he winked, going inside with her, his hand holding onto her hip as the door closed behind them. behind the door for the same restaurant you had made a reservation for.

oh. oh.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @jaderose18 @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @reblog-crazily @gh0sts0up

[miharuki]

I would like a BEN Drowned with S/O who is like Wendy from South Park UwU

As always, sorry for my bad English, and also I stopped watching South Park a while ago, so I tried to do as much as I remember, remembering that I'm trying to make it as "real" as possible, so I'm kind of sorry

(slight mention of jealousy and possessiveness, ben drowned being a 19 year old boy)

𝕭𝖊𝖓 𝕯𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝔖/𝔒 𝖂𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖂𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 (𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔨)

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 (𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡)

Headcanon and Fanfic (in a more realistic way)

Imagine a guy who enjoys it when you get jealous. In my opinion, Ben would definitely like to see you jealous. He would find it fun and might even hang out with other girls or flirt just to make you jealous because to him, it would mean that you really love him.

He would find your courage and determination interesting and even cool, sometimes finding it attractive when you simply go forward without fear of losing.

"I bet 100% on my girlfriend against you, Jeff, so watch out!"

But sometimes he gets angry at your confidence, especially when you simply confront something or someone, especially if you're human (translating: he's concerned).

Ben wouldn't want you to confront him regarding his provocations; he thinks you would be better off just feeling jealous from a distance.

"I thought you looked cute dressed as a rabbit," the boy looks confused, diverting his gaze from the game to you, and you continued speaking. - "I thought you looked cute dressed as a rabbit?! Who the hell is amanda007?!"

The boy simply sighs in irritation because you made him waste his game time due to another bout of jealousy, which he only finds cute if you keep quiet. - "And seriously, you interrupted just because of a comment on social media?!" Ben said, already irritated, as he sighs and walks away, ignoring whether you're going to pester him about anything related to your jealousy.

Ben would find it amazing if you practically fight for your rights, whatever they may be. And if you're a Creepypasta and engage in a fight against someone, you can be sure that the guy might become more interested in you, finding it attractive when you fight against someone who practically mocks anything you say (cough, Jeff, cough).

If you're someone who enjoys romance and such, similar to Wendy, and expect Ben to treat you that way, wake up. The most he can do is stay with you or simply let you sit on his lap while he plays, but romantic things, no, he doesn't like romantic stuff or frills, quality time will be the thing to say.

If your personality is like Wendy's from South Park, it can either make the guy more interested in you or simply make him think you're unbearable depending on the situation.

If you're human, you better be careful. As a human, it's much easier for him to kill you, so try not to be "annoying" around him, and you'll survive. He would kill you if you simply raised your voice at him because of jealousy or something like that. And of course, if you break up with him, you die too; there can't be any survivors.

If you try to make him jealous, he will ignore it, but if you're extreme, like flirting with someone, you can be sure you'll die if you're human (imagine Wendy trying to get Stan's attention :)).

If you're a Creepypasta and have Wendy's personality and try to break up with him, you might get hurt, or he might just ignore you. Your relationship will be somewhat healthy but also a bit toxic. If you try to make him jealous as a Creepypasta, he'll show you that you're practically "his."

He finds it "sexy" and attractive when you fight someone or when you get rid of someone.

"What was that in the sky?" - The boy asked while trying to see. - "Oh, just that bitch Amanda liking your photo," the boy sang, satisfied.

If you get rid of someone because of jealousy (like when Wendy sent the teacher into the sun), you can be sure that, incredibly, he finds it attractive. He prefers that you get rid of "rivals" with your jealousy rather than confronting him about your jealousy.

"Did I already tell you that you look sexy when you hit someone?"

"So, Ben, what do you think?" you ask while showing the outfit. The boy diverts his gaze from his phone to you and just smiles before looking back at his phone and says in a teasing tone that you understood to be mocking - "Are you trying to outshine Zelda?"(translation: you are more beautiful than princess zelda) You understand what he meant but sigh disappointedly and then put the clothes back, closing the closet. You understand what he meant, but you sigh disappointedly and then take off the clothes and put them back in the closet, the boy noticing that he simply didn't get it, he sighs before dropping his phone on the bed and standing up behind you, getting annoyed by the fact that your own boyfriend seems uninterested in you. "I think you'd pay attention to me if I dressed like that elf from your stupid game," you say. Until you feel his arms hold your waist and pull you to him, making you collide with his chest. The boy rests his head on your shoulder, holding you tightly. "Honestly, I don't care what you wear, to me, you can even be naked as long as you stay here and don't show it to anyone," he says, his grip tightening, leaving marks on your waist, - "And my game isn't stupid, so shut up, princess." His grip softens as he lets out a long sigh into your neck, chuckling softly as he begins to trail a few kisses down your neck.

(kind of short sorry XD)

[fleeglefazbeagle]

Here's a random thought I had the other day regarding the debate involving SH Tails:

WARNING: I get kinda angry and I WILL rant since that's what this is, you've been warned and please, no fighting for the love of God.

You know how this got started because of that Real or Cake vid with the Opera GX promo?

Well, I bet ya if they did this with Man vs Train or Luigi's Lament, there wouldn't be as big as an uproar.

However, since this involves SH Tails who's one of the most popular characters on Mashed's channel and given how he's a bit different animation and personality wise, well...

Speaking of which, time for a rant, yippee./neg

I find it funny how long before TSAA part 3 came out, a lot of people were wishing that SH Tails came back in a video but when he returned in that video, a lot of people were happy, sure but there were a small few folks that weren't as happy.

Considering this was during the time when Friday Night Funkin exists and especially considering that SH Tails was supposed to appear in VS Sonic.exe mod(which was cancelled) and actually appeared in the FNF: Secret Histories mod demo, a few folks were not happy with how SH Tails was drawn considering how he now has claws and is a lanky bastard.

(Way to insult the current animator for the series...😒)

The other thing was he sounded a bit different and some came to the conclusion that it's a different voice actor(it was NOT, it's still Mick) mainly because the tone and the slight softness.

Here's the thing about that, Mick is in his 40's, you can't expect him to constantly scream in a shrill voice, think about his poor throat!

Some folks went on to say that the current version and the OG version are not the same person which is bullshit because they are.

That's like saying that the OG Goku and the current Goku are not the same person or saying that classic SpongeBob and modern SpongeBob are not the same person. :(

Come to think of it, this whole thing gives "Classic SpongeBob vs Modern SpongeBob", technically.

Lemme explain: The OG SpongeBob was well loved, OG Secret History Tails was well loved, modern SpongeBob while it does have its fans, it's not as liked because it's "not the same", TSA version of SH Tails while it does have its fans, it's not as liked because it's "not the same".

In terms of Opera GX is concerned, you don't HAVE to use it, you can easily wait for the YouTube upload of part 5, don't worry.

The reason why SH Tails is seemingly calmer is because he grew and matured plus, this part is a bit of a stretch on my end, he probably doesn't wanna scare Amy off.

Animation wise, it actually improved overtime and while it's not the same as Zeurel's style, it's still memorable.

You guys are straight up nitpicking with these complaints, you CAN criticize it if ya want, just give ACTUAL criticism rather than just saying "they fell off" or "they're milking it" which, by the way, it's THEIR story, not yours, let them do what they want.

As far as why they didn't get Zeurel to animate the series, well, as the man himself said in a stream, he doesn't work with Mashed anymore since he has his own series called "Monkey Wrench" which you should check out if you like, it's good. :)

Folks would say SH Tails' return was "forced" or "only came back because of Friday Night Funkin" when in reality according to Mashed themselves on a podcast they did, the said that they've been planning on bringing him back since 2018, aka, BEFORE Friday Night Funkin even existed!

Here's the link to the short:

It's perfectly fine if you don't like the current version of SH Tails, just don't be a dick about it and don't act like you know better than Mashed.

To think this whole thing happened again but worse was because of a fucking YouTube short involving the "Real or Cake" trend that promotes the EARLY upload on Opera GX.🤦🏻‍♀️

Anyways, enough of me ranting.

Remember to drink water, take your meds, eat a balanced diet, take care of yourself, stay safe and don't be a jerk.👍🏻

[neptunescore]

Most of the drivers are more concerned about padding their own pockets. Lando is probably the worst on the grid though. He has a lot of influence and acts like he keeps it real and doesn’t care bc he tells it like it is and isn’t afraid. He’s a total faker. He never speaks up and only repeats what his PR team tell him to say. Nothing seems genuine or real about him. Not only that but Lando travels the world and has fans from all over and doesn’t even care to look at a map and be made aware of what part of the world he’s in. He charges obscene amounts for his shitty merchandise when he knows his fans aren’t making that kind of money. He also accepts money when he does stream on twitch. He has no shame. At the Miami GP he goes and says people should respect a guy who has a known reputation for being an incredibly racist and misogynistic. His fan girls don’t care though bc they all think they have a shot with him and think he’s cute.

Lando no backbone Norris, yeah put that on a shirt.

I used to be a fan of his but over the years I’ve been finding him more and more annoying.

Anon, in the most gentle way, while I do agree with some things here, I feel like there are so many other things ur getting angry at him for, for no reason.

Like yes, I am INCREDIBLEY angry/ irritated abt the stuff he said abt trump, and his unawareness/ ignorance of the boycott, as well as (and this for all the drivers, EXCEPT LEWIS HAMILTON THE GOAT), his inability to post/ talk abt the genocide happening in Palestine.

However, U saying there's nothing 'genuine' abt him, and talking abt how he doesn't know 'which part of the world he's in', is just way too much. Like we've never met him, we dont know him personally, so we can't really say anything when it comes to him being 'genuine' or not. Also, come one getting mad at him for not knowing where countries are is a bit to much, like ofc everyone is free to dislike a driver just bc, but don't hate on him for smthng so lame😭.

U also talk abt how 'he made his merch too expensive for fans', anon, merch - in general - has ALWAYS been expensive, like go look at the rbr, mercedes, ferrari, ANY OF THE TEAMS' merch. Go look at TAYLOR SWIFTS merch, at OSCAR'S merch, at DANIEL'S Enchante stuff. Obv, we'd all like if the stuff was less pricey, but u can't just get mad at one person and not get mad at the others for the same thing.

'He accepts money when he streams on twitch,' I feel like u don't get how his fans VOLUNTARILY give that money, like no lando does not demand them for it, or tell them he'll hate them if they don't give him anything, he's NEVER said he wants them to donate😭. And me personally, if someone was giving me money willingly and happily, I wouldn't refuse it ( its hard out here😔✋🏽) no matter if I was rich or not.

Anyway to end this, I just wanna say that I don't like lando either😭, it's not that he sucks, or that I think he's 'overrrated' I just don't personally vibe with him. (He gives me like 17 yr old f boy energy vibes). But that doesn't mean I'll create reasons to hate him, or like be one of those weirdos who go and talk shit in his comments. I just don't follow him, and when he DOES do smthng wrong, I call him out for it, like I would do for every other driver.

And whoever likes him, can like him. Its their choice, as long as they can admit when he does smthn wrong.

(THIS IS ALL ABT OFF-TRACK, on-track I say you must bcm the biggest haters against drivers u dont like bc if not then WHERES THE PASSIONN😤😤. stop the hate as soon as the race ends tho😭🙏🏽)

[sharky857]

I have momentarily run out of ideas for stories, so here's a list of headcanons/musing about the Hex.

The fact that the majority may be about/involve Amir might or might not be just a coincidence. Honest. :)

Quincy

Quite hot-tempered and in a "bickering sibling" relationship with Amir, where Quincy himself would be "the older one". I also have a low-key feeling that he may actually care and be concerned for Amir and the others, and that all the "scorn" is actually him trying to hide his levels of concern.

Quincy also strikes me as the kind to call other by either their first, last or full name depending on the situation.

Examples: "AMIR!" = actually no biggie, Quincy's just being his usual, impulsive, grumpy self; "BECKETT!" = did a whoopsie-daisy, but probably still manageable. Hopefully. "AMIR BECKETT!" = u did dun f-up son

On multiple occasions and while being absolutely sick and tired of that constant ruckus, he probably tried to destroy the speakers on the stage right next to his personal shooting range, only to see them back (a few hours to a day later), perfectly functional once again and still blasting THAT BLOODY SONG. At first he may have blamed Amir, probably also snap-demanding to "cut it out". Until realising that what would promptly fix the speakers every single time it's something that does start with "tech-", but also ends with "-rot" instead of "-nician". :)

After that, Quincy may have settled for some ear plugs, courtesy of Lettie's medical kit.

Lettie

Ye olde "getting real tired of toda esta mierda" kind of jaded medic.

May still have some bedside manners left somewhere.

Would maybe let you pet one of her rats, but also warn to not take it on her, if any of her bebes might bite your hand~

Eleanor

Her psychic abilities would not only allow her to communicate with the rest of her team, and also possibly take a peek inside of their memories, but she may also be capable of playing someone's memory into someone else's head.

She may also have protective "mama bear" tendencies when it comes to Amir.

Eleanor do be the Freaky One™ as Lettie would say, with a "tongue" (probably whole inside-of-the-mouth too) to match Venom's, your honour. Can't explain otherwise the need to specify that she has more technocytes than the rest of the team + the fact that she never speaks aloud. There might also some more "freakiness" ongoing under all that exosuit.

Aoi

Aoi would totally adopt Kalymos in a heartbeat if given the chance. Alas, she would have to settle for whatever surviving street kitty instead. And she would've long and totally adopted all the street critters, probably turning the entire mall in some kind of petting zoo because "there's so much space!" reasons, if it weren't for Arthur refraining her from doing so. The reason: no one inside the base would be exactly too thrilled to deal with a moody medic + lots of LOUD ANGRY SPANISH, if anything ever happened to make a snack out of even just ONE "furred baby" of Lettie's widdle family of rats.

Also: if one wanted to see Aoi instantly cry a waterfall, all they would have to do is let her watch either Hachiko or Bambi.

Arthur

He's definitely caught a case of "shonen protagonist syndrome".

I also headcanon him as being one of the Hexes who struggles to manage his own energy efficiently, since every time he does anything more than using an exalted blade he also passes out for a moment. No wonder Aoi can't stop and won't stop to keep her eyes peeled on her guy.

Amir

He strikes me as the one with the least technocytes in the bloodstream, at least judging from what glimpse I could grasp of everyone's face. Everyone has some unnatural-looking veins and marks on their face, but Amir's skin still looks as smooth as silk, only with tons of freckles. Not to mention, the fact that Quincy openly says that he is "a weak, weak boy", while Arthur comments that "Amir's still alive. That's a win" in such a way that it seems to leave for implied that he maybe did not expect some techie to survive whatever he's talking about.

There's a 100% chance of neurodivergence ongoing with him. Was also probably bullied in school for that. On the flip side: he might've found "Heaven on Earth" upon entering an IT school.

Before getting technocyte'd, Amir was also probably not very fond of running around in a literal way: a few NYOOM!s, and one may have caught him almost keeled over against the nearest wall, wheezing as if he had been on top of mount Everest without an oxygen tank. Poor guy just didn't have the stamina for zoomies. :( Yet. >:)

Imho, whenever Amir uses "Speed", there's an air current to match, ozone-flavoured too given the nature of his "superpowers". If you ever had the UNpleasure of having a lighting strike too close for comfort, you might also know what the air smells like, in those situations. :°)

Since Amir is all about electricity, methinks that the same smell can be sensed whenever he uses whatever other ability he would use as well.

Being the techie/electronics specialist of the team, I too have embraced the headcanon that Amir's responsible for fixing and patching up every single electronic device inside Höllvania central mall, from the bare essential in lights to the arcade game machines, going through the speakers now blasting the exact, same song over and over again. No force on Earth could distract an hyperfocused techie from his task, after all.

Amir doesn't sleep. Ever. He just takes power naps whenever he feels like taking them.

There would be one arcade machine that might be like Kryptonite to the technician: this spawn of the devil here.

The reason: before technocytes, he would gasp for air after a single session (fuckywucky stamina, remember?)

After technocytes he may be finally able to master even this one. If it weren't for The Clumsy Factor™ that would probably cause poor Jitter to eventually stumble down the platform. Or he might just go so fast that he would literally wreck said platform an embarrassingly lot of times. Whoops.

Mixed & Random musing

A. Since he may also be one of the Hexes to spend tons of energy between lightning shows and zoomies, Amir could have quite an appetite. Arthur might follow in a close second place.

One might wonder where they get their own "foodie fuel" to keep all that up. The answer is all around and also inside Höllvania mall: savoury, spicy, delicious techrot, if one doesn't mind the smell. And the texture. And probably the way that stuff might slightly squirm and twitch a little as well.

... What? Do you have any idea how hard could be to find fresh veggies & stuff in Höllvania, at the moment? 😤

B. I too have embraced the theory that some civilians fled and some others may be trapped inside Höllvania, in both cases living (surviving) inside shelters, possibly into sturdy underground bunkers.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Choose Me

Viktor x afab!fem!reader

Chapter 9

Summary: You are "salvageable."

Chapter 8

Here is a link to the updated Masterlist of the series.

Warnings: VIEWER DISCRESSION IS ADVISED! Some real Frankestien shit this chapter. Descriptions of a corpse, violence, gore, reanimation. You mean science went wrong, again!? Gasp! No! You ever just wanna go apeshit?

A/N: I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter because it was very important to me. This fanfiction has been a lead up to this and the following chapters. I'm sorry it took so long, I was going through it. But I hope you guys enjoy this addition.

"Salvageable..." Viktor spoke in disgust, "you call your own child...Salvageable?" He spat at your father. He had pulled himself up to lean on his worktable, the morning paper clutched to his chest in one hand. He glared at the man who stood before. His stomach turning with the rage of a hurricane.

"I was lucky she died on my property otherwise it would have been far more difficult to pass the fake off to the authorities. The blunt-force trauma she suffered in her fall can be fixed with some simple iron work."

"I don't believe what I am hearing..."

"You are not the only man of scientific genius in Piltover. My team and I are confident that with the help of hextech we could-"

"You and your team of lunatics are mistaken!" Viktor shouted, his fingers clutching the newspaper he pressed to his chest as he supported himself with the other.

"You are speaking to an investor, son! I suggest you watch your tone with me!" He threatened. Viktor shook his head.

"I suggest you leave, immediately." He turned his back only for your father to swiftly approach him. He grabbed his shoulder and wrenched Viktor back to face him.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You have a chance to make things right here." His fingers dug into Viktor's shoulders. "We could perform the ultimate miracle. Don't you see? You could bring her back to life..." Your father's voice became soft and encouraging. Viktor paused. He thought for a moment. Could it be? Did he really have what it took to bring you back from the dead? All his trials, all his failed experiments just to cure himself. Could it really work? His curiosity was getting the better of him. When Viktor didn't answer your father, he just patted him on the shoulder. "Think it over, son. I'll see you at the funeral."

Viktor did not attend the funeral. He found himself trapped amongst his work, trying to understand what your father meant. What he had done to convince himself that hextech could reanimate a dead body. As far as Viktor was concerned, it was impossible. He couldn't even begin to solve the issue of keeping his subjects from rotting. So how could it bring anyone back from the dead?

Jayce went to your funeral in Viktor's place. He mourned you the way a friend should. Standing tall in his suit with a frown and a few well-intentioned tears as "your" casket passed by him. He said a small prayer to the body that laid in your place. He found himself frustrated by the whole thing. He watched as familiar faces young and old cried for their loss. You had drawn an impressive crowd and yet amongst them Viktor was absent. By the end, Jayce received a telegram informing him that Viktor was being held by police for breaching the blockade Jayce had enforced just days prior.

Viktor sat and watched as Police forces held back an angry mob of furious Undercity residents. He coughed into a handkerchief as his mind swirled with intense emotion and fear. Guilt making his body feel heavier than usual.

"Jayce, what is this?"

"Do you have any idea how this looks? I order a blockade and my own partner violates it!?" He hissed at him as he approached.

"You, ordered this? Why?"

"There are people down there hell bent on destroying us. What were you doing down there!?"

"I was consulting someone about..." He paused, "about our quandary. I told you I knew someone."

"Well you didn't say they were from the Undercity!"

"What difference does that make?"

"What difference- They're dangerous!" Viktor's eyes narrowed at Jayce.

"I'M from the Undercity." He reminded him with a cold gaze as he got up, smacking Jayce's hand away as he tried to help him up.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I've just...had a lot on my plate and today...I...well, was your friend able to help?" Viktor considered Jayce's question for a moment.

"No. No he said nature was resistant to this sort of...tampering." Viktor lied as a vile of curated shimmer sat patiently in his pocket.

"We'll keep at it then...You uh...you missed the funeral."

"I know." Viktor nodded.

"You should have been there." Jayce told him softly as they walked back together. Viktor shuffling along side as he shook his head.

"No. No I don't think I should."

"Look, I know how close you were. You can't just ignore this. Who cares what her shitty father thinks, you had every right to be there. To...to mourn that loss." Viktor gritted his teeth as Jayce smoke. He knew Jayce had very little idea what the reality of the situation was, and his previous insult and disregard was beginning to grate on Viktor's nerves.

Behind them the crowd shouted as a flaming bottle was thrown and crashed on the path behind them. They watched for a moment before Viktor spoke.

"I have work to do." Viktor dismissed him through his teeth, trying to keep his composure. Jayce couldn't believe Viktor could be so cold and unfeeling. He watched Viktor leave as more storm clouds began to roll in from above.

What does it feel like to be dead? You might say there is a form of release. Floating in weightless nothing as consciousness slowly erodes. Perhaps that wasn't death. Merely the in-between. The darkness you wade through like when you're close to falling asleep. The voices you heard sometimes sounded familiar. Sometimes a word or two said by voices you recognized but couldn't identify. If this wasn't death, what was it? Where were you?

Sometimes there was music. Yes, music. Violin, piano, flute. A voice singing along with muddled words. Memories, perhaps.

Viktor was escorted in by your father's staff. He had doubled the security, doubled the efforts. Viktor's eyes inspected every inch of the house as he was brought up to the attic. For the first time he saw the home you grew up in. The oddly sterile and formal home your mother made and your father maintained.

Viktor's stomach tossed and turned as he followed your father's hulking and disheveled being into the attic. His breath caught in his throat. He froze at the sight of the room. The intricate machinery, the crudely made controls, the hextech inspired work. Viktor was disgusted. His first inclination was to get away, to run. But the guards behind him kept him there. His frightened golden eyes flashed over the table in the center of the room. His heart sank. Thunder and lightening crackled outside as the yellow lights cascaded down.

"The storm is upon is, sir. We are ready to begin." The mad doctor said, wearing bandages from wounds you gave him a few nights ago. Your father nods and thanks the man as they begin their preparations. The old man turns to Viktor with sad, tired eyes.

"I'm sure as a man of science you're curious to know the procedure when it comes to these things."

"These things?" Viktor asked firmly, fighting back the urge to lay into the old man. He nodded with a somber expression. He pointed towards the table in the center of the room. Draped in a cloth, the shell of yourself lay.

"Unfortunately, she's been a bit more scuffed up than other subjects." He hears your father's voice as the doctor slowly removes the cloth. Revealing your body. Viktor's heart stops for a moment as his eyes adjust to the sight. It's your body, but it's not you. You aren't there. Your head is partially shaven and metal disks have been used to patch up your broken skull. Down your middle is a massive autopsy-like cut that has been carefully sewn back together. "So we had to improvise. We repaired her broken bones with hearty metals that will continue to heal with time. We were lucky her organs were mostly unharmed. It made the removal of some easier."

"Removal?" Viktor asked curiously. Your father nodded.

"We had to remove a kidney which had be pierced by a broken bone as well as her uterus. If we let the embryo fester any longer it would have rotted her from the inside out, and then we would have nothing. Once decomposition sets in, they're lost to us." Viktor tries to process his words. He tries to process everything, but some words stick to him and suck out all his attention and energy. He blinks a few times before looking up at the old cowboy. One word stands out in particular.

"Embryo?" His voice is low and soft, as if he's afraid to say the word at all. Your father's face turns deceptively sympathetic.

"Did she not tell you?" He asks abruptly. Viktor's brows furrow as his eyes narrow at him in confusion.

"She was..."

"Yes, son. I'm afraid so." Your father straightened his posture as he walked past Viktor. He turned his attention to the machinery, checking wiring and tubing and calculations. "But the time to worry about that has passed. We can still save her."

The storm crashes above them. Switches are flipped as the air becomes electric. Viktor can feel little static shocks as he holds his crutch close. Leaning on it as the sudden pressure in the air forces him into a coughing fit. He coughs blood into his handkerchief as the machines around them vibrate to life. The roof is opened and the cold night air floods the room. Viktor looks up to watch your father approach your body. In his hands are the unmistakable hex crystals Viktor and Jayce supplied. The very thing you gave your life to stop.

He watches in frozen horror as the mournful man places the crystals in your empty eye sockets. While the doctor prepares a syringe. The purple liquid sparkles brightly. A deep purple that leans more blue than red. Viktor recognizes it. Shimmer. No doubt something that has been engineered by the great Mr.Y/L/N himself. How is he so confident that this will work? How does he know? What other subjects have there been?

The shimmer is injected into your hollow veins, intermingling with your still blood. It pushes through, forcing blood and shimmer through you as your shell lays there, waiting. The men stand back, their eyes leaving you to look up to the storm above. Your father backs away to stand firmly by a lever. He looks at Viktor.

"You might want to brace yourself, son." His voice demands. Viktor's eyes frantically dart between him and your body, until the flash of lightening from above distracts him.

"All hands stand by!" The doctor shouts formally. As if he's done this a thousand times. "Ready!" All eyes stare up at at clouds above as the wind blows through the room. Viktor rests himself against a control panel as he watches with sick curiousity. Wide, watering eyes observing every movement. He watches as several rods of metal fight against the harsh storm winds. Reaching out for a chance that lightening will strike. As if sent by the gods themselves, lightning stretches across the sky like the veins of an electric beast. They flash and then suddenly a blinding light strikes upon them. Without hesitation your father switches the lever and electricity is funneled through wires and tubes.

Sparks pop wildly into the room as they try to sheild their eyes with goggles and arms. Viktor hunches over to cover his face as the machine's vibrations turn to uneasy rattling. Your body jerks wildly as the energy is funneled into you.

You begin to shake violently. Crashing down to earth as the concept of feeling returns. Your body clattering against the metal table while your consciousness is pulled back. Pain. Nothing put pain. The nothingness gave way to feelings. Physical. Your mouth opens as air is pushed out of your lungs. Announcing your gruesome return by pushing the air out of your lungs. Your eyelids snap open as the hex crystals spark to life as if they were your own eyes. The magic and shimmer and electricity course through you. Your mouth let's out an inhumane shriek.

They duck in pain as they cover their ears to the sound. It rings on for far longer than it should have as the room trembles like there's an earthquake. The rattling of the machines turns to concerning shaking. Sparkes flying when they shouldn't be. Your father shouts something at the doctors, demanding that they stabilize you.

Viktor unshielded his eyes to watch you. There you are. Shrieking in pain as your body is wracked with tremors, a monster of your former glory. He shakes his head. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks as wide eyes burn the imagine into his skull forever. He scrambles back towards the door. He runs. The best he can, he escapes back out into the night and doesn't stop until he's home.

Leaving you to shriek again as the building shakes. The windows shatter at the frequency of your voice as you come crashing back to earth.

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 6: I'll be close behind

Warning: Angst, Alcoholism, Alcohol consumption. Trauma talk.

Last chapter ~ Next chapter

Words:1069

I never knew how it would affect me. It seemed simple, or maybe just necessary. I loved them, I should be able to do what they do. I just had no idea how good I was going to be, or how that would change my life.

Jake took me to a shooting range. I’d never shot a Gun before, I was definitely nervous. Then the weirdest thing happened, every shot I took, was a perfect hit. Jake’s eyes widened and he started talking quietly to his reflection, speaking to the others I assumed, He said something about “Perfect aim” and “Some guy in New York.” I just felt my mind start to go numb. Memories of My days in archery class start coming back to me, being exceptionally good at it, excelling in my class, but this same numbness. I was startled back to reality when Jake touches my shoulder calling my name.

“Sorry.” I mumble as I look into his concerned eyes.

“There’s nothing to apologize for Hermosa. Qué tienes en mente?” Jake ask pulling me into his arms.

“Sometimes…Sometimes I think there’s a whole part of my life I don’t remember, Like its been blocked out of my head, and whenever I try to remember, I just feel…Numb. I…I don’t know.” I rest my head on his shoulder. Jake was quiet for a moment.

“I know exactly what you mean mi amor” Jake says softly. That’s when I realized of all the people I could be talking to, they were probably the ones who would understand the most. Jake pulls me in closer holding the back of my head to press my face into his chest. I catch a glance of his face. I’ve never seen Jake scared before now, and that scares me more than anything.

~

“So your memories stop after the last time you saw Layla, and Pick back up after you graduate from the academy.” Marc says as he take a sip from his whiskey. We were at a bar, probably not wise for either of us but it was quiet. Just a hole in the wall bar with cheap drinks and very little clientele. Somewhere we can talk and not be bothered by others.

“Yeah… it’s like a switch got flipped, My father sends me to this academy in the middle of nowhere. I Say goodbye to Layla then, I’ve just got lots of gaps. I remember things that happened but what I actually learned or did there other than write Layla or hang out with friends... Its all fuzzy….or just gone.” I look over at him swirling my drink in the glass “And whenever I get close to remembering something everything just numbs out can’t remember shit.”

“But at some point during this time period, someone trained you to be a killing machine…” Marc says quietly. I can tell he’s angry. Angry at my parents for sending me there. Angry that the place exists in the first place.  Over the last week of experimenting we had figured out, I know martial arts, I can shoot almost anything, and I don’t know when or how I learned any of it. I was terrified. I wanted to down this drink, and two more after, maybe more. I shake my head and look up at Marc, he’s staring at his own glass, I know he’s thinking the same thing.

“It’s not worth it… you said it, one drink and then we leave, just to destress.” I remind him, although I feel like I’m also reminding myself.

“I know…I know.” Marc looks over at me. He has that look in his eye. The one reserved for me, the one only I understand its meaning, his brow furrowed in worry. I take his hand in mine. Squeezing it tight.

“We’re going to figure it out…somehow.”

“And what If I can’t? What if something goes wrong?” Marc’s voice wavers as he says this.

“I know…I know we will.” He sighs. I can tell there’s more he wants to say, His dark eyes speaking unspoken words. The concern, the understanding. I take his dink and put it down on the bar holding both his hands in mine as I look him straight in the eye.

“I’ll follow you...I know you’ll keep me safe…every step of the way.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

“You sound like a broken record.” He chuckles

“Well…you come up with something better.” I smirk at him.

“Come on let’s get out of this dump.”

~

Layla and I looked over the supplies for the mission, all the stuff we had acquired laid out in the storage unit. I felt like I’d done this before, but I don’t know when. It bothers me, I look over at Layla and I don’t know what to say as I watch her, she is everything to me, she has been for as long I can remember, And now they both mean more than I could ever imagine, I don’t know what will come of this but I can only hope for the best. Layla turns to me and notices my gaze.

“It’s going to be okay. Trust me.” She says softly.

“Oh, I trust you, I trust you all. I just don’t trust myself. I have no idea what happened to me at the academy. I have no idea what they trained me to do or who they made me become. It’s also odd that in all the research he’s done, Steven can’t even find it, I like it never existed.” I say with worry seeping through my body. “What if...What if I can’t control it…what if I hurt someone What if I hurt one of you?” My vision blurs with tears. Layla rushes to embrace me.

“Shhh...It won’t happen…We won’t let it happen.” She says as she presses her forehead to mine. I feel the tears fall from my eyes, I want to tell her that she shouldn’t make promises she can’t keep. I want to tell her how I don’t know what to do, or what will happen, how I’ll never forgive myself, but her eyes are so full of determination. She is so sure, I just feel myself give in, tears streaking down my face as I nod.

“Okay…Okay. We can do this.” I whisper, holding her face in my hands.

“Of course we can…we can do anything together…As long as we stay together.”

“Together.”

~

Translations:

Qué tienes en mente?: what's on your mind?

Masterlist

Taglist: @redeyerhaenyra @summonthesoups