#<- i can't believe i'm incorporating this tag

[meiloorunsmoothie]

well. i've spent the past two days les mis flash mob spiraling and looping "on my own".

[kjzx]

An important thing to remember as an artist that started out drawing characters crudely and then started learning the fundamentals, at first your art will not look nice.

At first, drawing faces and bodies in different positions will make your characters look weird, then poor perspective will make your characters look weird, and finally when all the kinda things I mentioned above will be dealt with, just the hype of finally knowing how to draw anatomy will bite you in the ass because you can do all these things, you can draw them correctly or close to that, but whether that's figure drawing knowledge gaps, or awkwards poses/composition, or just not a very harmonious combination of realism and stylization in facial features or in general, but your before and after pictures might get this look of "clear objective technical improvement but many would consider it a downgrade"

That's a very common thing. I used to be in this before/after art community, and it was so toxic it was a meme within the community that no matter how much you've improved there will be people that will say that the before is better. There's a seed of truth to these words though, what they fundamentally get wrong is this implication that you "ruined your art"

That's a big example of why you shouldn't listen to non-art people for art advice. Keep going. You're closer to your art dreams than you ever were, you just need to look into all these things like the remaining knowledge gaps or personality to your art you might've lost as you were on your anatomy grind.

Keep creating, keep looking at art that inspires you and try to think of how to make yourself like your art better. Don't get stuck on it, if it begins being unfun, please do take a breather. Also, none of that is objective, people will still prefer things different to what you find beautiful. It's alright, create what you like, that's what this post is about. If you don't wanna, don't focus on aesthetics, just the process of creating art is fun and will eventually get you in the right place, that's what I do, I just occasionally throw in things I like and sometimes they work. Take care.

These are my current thoughts on the topic. I wouldn't take them too close to heart, this is just a blogging site and I'm blogin 👍

[alltimefail-sims]

Sooooo round walls are buggy as heck?! There's no way the the Sims team isn't aware of this.

Worst part is that their asses are going to try and sell the medieval kit people voted on even though round walls are quintessential to those builds and they do. not. work!!!!

[deception-united]

Hello! Hope this ask finds you well 😄

Do you have a guide on how to incorporate dialogue into a story? I'm quite confused in this aspect, like, do I end every dialogue in a comma? (excluding questions and exclamations)

Also just writing things like, "he said, she cried, they snickered, John retorted, Jane whined" becomes tiring after a little while.

I've seen some authors just write dialogue without specifying who said it and the reader relies on context clues to decipher it.

All the rules on writing dialogue is perplexing and any guidance you have on this is much appreciated 🙏

Thank you!

Hi, thanks for asking and so sorry for the late reply! Seamlessly incorporating dialogue into your story is an essential aspect of storytelling that can really bring your characters to life.

Let's start with punctuation. Generally, you would use a comma to separate the dialogue tag from the spoken words; however, this isn't a strict rule. You can also use periods or other punctuation marks depending on the structure of your sentence. For example:

"Hello," he said. "Hello." He smiled. "But," he insisted, "I never actually saw her." "But—" He paused. "Never mind."

Regarding your concern about repetitive dialogue tags, you're absolutely right. Using "he said," "she cried," etc., repeatedly can become tiresome. It's good to mix it up and use a variety of dialogue tags, or even omit them altogether when it's clear who is speaking.

Using context clues to identify the speaker is a great technique. It adds a layer of engagement for the reader and can make the dialogue feel more natural. Here's an example:

"I can't believe you did that." The anger in her voice was palpable.

In this case, we don't need a dialogue tag because the context clues ("the anger in her voice") indicate who is speaking.

Here are a few more tips to help you navigate writing dialogue:

Use action beats: Instead of using dialogue tags, you can describe the actions of the characters to indicate who is speaking. For example:

John slammed his fist on the table. "I won't stand for this!"

Sarah wiped away a tear. "Please don't leave me."

Vary your dialogue tags: Instead of always using "said," try using different verbs that convey how the character is speaking, such as whispered, shouted, muttered, etc.

Omit dialogue tags when possible: If it's clear who is speaking based on the context—for instance, when two characters are talking back and forth—you can omit dialogue tags altogether.

Show, don't tell: Use dialogue to reveal character traits, emotions, and relationships between characters.

Read dialogue aloud: This can help you identify any awkward phrasing or unnatural-sounding dialogue.

Remember: writing dialogue, like any skill, will undoubtedly improve with practice and research. Don't be afraid to experiment and find what works best for your story. Happy writing!

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[vaspider]

Reposting because I absolutely cannot and will not reblog a post made by someone who tags things 'q slur.' For fuck's sake, grow up.

And since I'm reposting, let's made the post better by including a source link to the entire article.

Kanegson, Jared. (1998, June.) After the Butch/FTM Conference, Why Not to Give Up on Butch/FTM/Trannyboy Coalition Building. FTM International, 5.

After the Butch/FTM Conference Why Not to Give Up on Butch/FTM/Trannyboy Coalition Building by Jaron Kanegson

I'm a transgendered person who identifies as both Butch and FTM. A faggy "Butch" who typically dates Butches/boy-dykes/FTMs, an FTM cross-dresser who responds to a range of pronouns, a bio-female who frequently passes, and partially identifies, as male, I can't squeeze my gender iden-tity into one category. As such. I felt excited, even relieved, when I first heard about the Butch/FTM Conference. Finally, I thought. a forum that would logically include genders which, like mine, incorporate elements from both the categories of Butch and FTM. And, I was happy that a spectrum of people from communities that sometimes overlap—more, I think, than many would like to admit--would be coming together to work towards change. I figured we'd have a lot to talk about regarding discrimination from the larger society, identity questions, health care, employment, sexuality, racism, etc. I am saddened to report that while some bridges were built, others were broken, particularly during the "Betrayal—What Makes It Hard To Trust Each Other" workshop. I believe that structural aspects of the conference contributed to the conflict in that workshop, and detracted from the progress that might otherwise have been made that day. Though I had briefly worked on planning the conference, I quit because I was convinced that the conference was not being planned in a constructive way. During the six-week period that I was involved in planning the conference, I attended both a general meeting and panel-planning subcommittee meetings. I also took part in conversations with various conference organizers, potential panelists, curious friends, etc. In my circle of friends, Butch and FTM describe not only categories that at times blur, but also groups that, along with femmes, MTFs, bio-fags and others, often relate as friends, lovers, roommates and members of a larger community. So, I expected the Butch/FTM Conference to build on the base of shared community that already exists, to a certain extent, in San Francisco. Instead, I found that some of the other organizers seemed to see Butch and FTM as two inherently separate, distinct, and perhaps even naturally hostile identities. One area where I saw this mindset demonstrated was in the planning of the morning panel. I thought that, of the five or six panelists, at least one should be a person with an identity specifically incorporating aspects of both Butchness and FTMhood. I suggested a number of boy-dykes and dyke-fags, all of whom identified as transgender. In response, one organizer, a Butch woman, expressed her frustration that I was "muddying" things. She stated that I was "Not respecting that the conference (was) supposed to be about Butches and FTMs." That conversation marked the end of my involvement. Ultimately, although some gender ambiguity certainly crept into the panel, no panelists with the type of gender identity I had lobbied for was included. Transfags and people younger than their mid-thirties were also absent as panelists, and all of the FTMs seemed to be former Butches. That unfortunately reinforced the idea that every FTM "gained" is a Butch "lost" and the misconception that all FTMs are straight. As well, though I know gender-flexible people of all ages, my personal experience is that younger queers are more used to the idea of alliances between dykes, fags, trannies, etc. There were other aspects of the conference that did not seem to be designed to bring people together. One example was the wording of the Harvey Milk Institute catalog course description. Originally, it described Butches and FTMs as

Butch and FTM describe not only categories that at times blur, but also groups that (along with femmes, MTFs, bio-fags and others) often relate as friends, lovers, roommates and members of a larger community. "competing for dwindling resources!" While this and other potentially inflammatory language was ultimately removed, other revisions aimed at making the language more inclusive did not stick. For example, I suggested at the general planning meeting, along with others, that we list a wider range of relevant gender identities—including a more culturally diverse range—in the course description. That way, people who identified only with certain aspects of "Butch" and/or "FTM" would know that the conference was about them, too. Five of us spent half an hour at that meeting's end rewriting the course description to specify that the conference was not strictly about "Butches" and "FTMs," but also about boy-dykes, transfags, bull-daggers, cross-dressers, anabes, marimachas, etc. While the line "All genders are welcome" stayed in the course description, the idea that the focus of the conference was about a range of gender identities was excised. Finally, while the course description set the tone for the conference, as well as drawing a particular audience, the workshop topics themselves were not conducive to alliance building. In particular, the smallest of the three after-noon discussion groups,

"Betrayal: What Makes It Hard To Trust Each Other?," ended in an emotional explosion that I fear may have left many hurt, bitter, and, worst of all. convinced that conflict between Butches and FTM is inevitable. Unfortunately, the title of the workshop alone virtually guaranteed it would be painful. The focus was negative, and on difference. I am not suggesting that there arc no under-lying tensions, nor that these tensions should not be talked about. However, I think a more positive context—such as a workshop focusing on the oppression Butches and FTMs face from larger society, including some discussion of the pain we cause each other—would have been more likely to lead to a sense of a community. Obviously I have a difference of opinion with many of the conference organizers about just who should be included in the categories of Butch and VIM, and how the conference should have been structured and focused. I do not want, however, to discount the hard work they did, nor do I want to gloss over the fact that I have heard hateful remarks about FTMs from dykes, and sexist remarks about dykes from FTMs. However, I believe that as people our society labels queer, and as people (usually) born in "female" bodies expressing masculinity, maleness and/or gender non-conformity, we have a lot in common. We also have a lot of work to do togeth-er and a lot of fun to have together. Despite my critiques, the Butch/FTM conference was an historic first effort towards community building. As someone with a foot—and friends—in each community, I hope that process will keep going.

[throughtrialbyfire]

part 2 of my Thalmor jewelry headcanons! in part 1, i explored the most popular options for earrings/earcuffs within the Thalmor, and today i'm showing some of my other concepts!

i'll be going into more detail below the readmore, but since i saw some people asking in the tags of the last post, yes, you absolutely can use these for your OC designs!! all i ask is that you credit/tag me, i wanna see what you do with these!

i wanted to draw what i think elenwen would wear! she'd wear a combination of the earcuff and a dangle earring, in my opinion, as her job in the embassy is not particularly dangerous, meaning she doesn't have to worry about someone trying to rip out the earring in a fight.

beside it is another idea i had, taking the wavy pattern from the thalmor robes/banners and attaching it to an earring that would rest along the lobe! i also included a dangle that depicts an eagle skull, something i think would be somewhat intimidating to see a thalmor agent wearing.

of course, we can't forget about bosmeri and khajiit earcuffs. the bosmer options aren't limited, they often can and do wear the same earrings/cuffs as the altmer thalmor agents, but i think there would be a unique flair to them. as well, i think that just trying to wear earcuffs made for altmer would be uncomfortable for a bosmer, since the ear shapes are slightly different in my headcanon.

a popular style in valenwood for thalmor officers is a skeletal eagle wing, fitting for the province that follows the green pact. i also think that the skeletal eagle wing has become a slight symbol of rebellion among younger people in valenwood, as it's like saying "death to the dominion", and is slowly being reclaimed by some groups there. so, it all depends on who you're talking to as to what it means.

finally, the khajiit variants! i think there would be equivalent earcuffs for them, but i think the options would be slightly more limited. however, the khajiit incorporate the moons into theirs, by using opals and rubies and setting them in parts of the gold. since they believe the dominion gave them back the moons, it would make the most sense that those serving in the dominion's military forces/government would have earcuffs/jewelry depicting the moons alongside heavy thalmor imagery.

that's all i've got for now! i plan to come up with more headcanons for other factions and guilds, but i had a lot of ideas for the thalmor and wanted to get them out of my head before i move on to other concepts. i wanna design some regular bosmer jewelry, some dunmer jewelry, etc etc, so we'll see if that comes to fruition.

again, you have full permission to use these in character designs so long as you credit me/tag me! i'd be thrilled to see what people can do with these!! hell, if i could 3D model/mod i would try making them to put in the game, but that's an idea for another day.

thanks for enjoying my headcanons i've been putting out there, the support means the world to me! take care! <3

[drchenquill]

Writerblr Interview~

Thank you @thecomfywriter , @nczaversnick , @the-golden-comet for the tag!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Well, if we're talking about writing, then short stories and novels. I love both. I mostly focus on my novels, but sometimes a random scene or idea pops into my head that I need to write down, but it's not developed enough for a full fledged story, but I just need to write it down, so a short story is born.

What genre do you prefer reading?

Romance and fantasy. I'm just a hopeless romantic and I love magic.

What genre do you prefer writing?

Again, romance and fantasy. I'm not that good at coming up with lore and stuff, but I'm happy with my smol magic system.

Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person?

I wish I was a planner. I have the idea, sometimes I already know how it will end, but the rest is just a gaping hole of nothingness that I have to fill out. So, yeah, I'm a write-as-I-go person.

What music do you listen to while writing?

Every kind of music. There's no real type of music that I seek out. I just need something to accompany me on my writing journey.

Fave books/movies?

Currently: Favorite book is probably Born A Crime by Trevor Noah. It's a biography and not actually what I usually read as stated before, but it's such a good book. It's educational, interesting and filled with humor. It's a good read.

While movie on the other hand it has to be Pride and Prejudice (2005). I don't need to explain why.

Any current WIPs?

I'm currently focusing on "Daisy" and "Him and Me - Bound by Fate" because, you won't believe this, but I actually have them somewhat planned out.

I want to try to finish "Foliè" as well and write on "The Memories of The Future" more, but that is more difficult because the gaping hole of nothingness is staring at me everytime i open the file. I have some scenes, and the general idea, but the rest is just "okay, great, and now what?"

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be?

Ooof, okay. Hair in a braid with a fringe a little too long. An oversized hoodie with long sleeves to fiddle with. Dark bell bottoms and some sneakers. My favorite black feather earrings and my four old as hell rings. (Very important, they are on the thumb and index finger of each hand. No other fingers).

Create a character description for yourself

Oh boy...

Painfully introverted girl with a lot of insecurities (thanks to school and people she never asked for their opinion👍) that made her socially anxious with the social skills of a rock. (I bet the rock can hold a conversation better than she can though). If you get to know her, you'll find out what a sarcastic yet sweet (not her words) person she actually is. She tends to overthink every interaction she has and has cried several times because she misinterpreted something.

A very gentle and hopeless romantic at heart (which doesn't play well with her social anxiety). Tries to be helpful when she can, but will shut down if put on the spot. You'll find her in a corner praying to whatever entity is playing Sims with the world that no one comes to talk to her. Will wear a smile most of the time and laugh at all your jokes because she doesn't want to be disrespectful. She can be a total bitch when you get to know her, but her snarky and sarcastic remarks mean that she feels comfortable around you.

Names every stray animal she sees. (Recent addition: a male cat now named Maestro)

Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing?

Nope. If I do, I don't do it on purpose.

Are you kill-happy with characters?

I do kill off the "bad ones", although not always. I will and have traumatized my characters (I'm so sorry Leon) but I would never kill a character. I just can't.

Coffee or tea while writing?

Water baby~

Slow or fast writer?

Used to be fast, but now I jump from WIP to WIP so technically slow because I'm not far ahead with any of them, but I work on multiple.

Where/who/what do you find inspiration from?

Anywhere!

If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be?

Good question. Probably one of those characters that lives secluded, in the middle of the entchanted forest, that talks to mythical creatures and everyone thinks is a witch or something.

Most fave book cliche?

Soulmates. I- Listen! I love romance, and soulmates with a bit of good angst. *chefs kiss*, you know? Anything "fated" and i'm sold.

Least fave book cliche?

I'm sorry, but enemies to lovers. (I can enjoy it only if it's written good). I just get too invested and then pick side, which leads to me not even wanting them to get together.

Fave scenes to write?

The angsty/fluff/romantic scenes. I love a good cuddle scene, a good kiss scene, or a good crying scene.

Most productive time of day for writing?

All the time! But as i'm writing this, I would pick the evening, because the mornings are so fucking hot right now, even writing makes me sweat.

Reason for writing?

To be able to share with lovely people at least a bit of my heart, because I pour it in every word. I also write because I genuinely enjoy it~

~~~

Tagging with no pressure @theink-stainedfolk , @paeliae-occasionally , @finickyfelix , @leahnardo-da-veggie ,

@oliolioxenfreewrites , @inseasofgreen and open tag

[fitgirlfemdom]

hi! I’m just curious about something you mentioned about not being explicitly into everything you post - do you think it’s attracted unwanted attention? would you rather discuss non-kink topics on here as well? I think it would be cool if you incorporated some of the other stuff you’re passionate about (anime, music, etc) 🖤

The real me is not as sexual as this account displays. I've been celibate for half a year and I masturbate maybe once or twice a week for like 20 min. I still write and draw NSFW content, but that's for my main art account that isn't linked here (this isn't for privacy or anything--i just have art moots that probably don't wanna see fat bears eating cake on their timeline 24/7).

90% of the stuff I write/have posted about, I'm into, and I enjoyed writing, especially my longer posts! If I wasn't interested in something, I wouldn't write about it for free. The issue was messages in my DMs, especially near the beginning of this account. It's why I tried enforcing the rule that if you send me face pics, I'd block you, because a lot of the people that messaged me I did not find sexually attractive. Without a face, it's much easier to RP. Also because of the dick pics. Don't get me wrong, some of you guys had very respectable cocks but I can't deny that it made me feel gross to be sent them without my consent.

The worst part was actually enjoying talking to some of you, and then realizing you clearly just used me as a dumping ground for your fetish pics, without any consideration as to who I was. It was like my DMs were just "Send Photos of Your Gut to 19 Year Old Girl Here" without any personality, any interest in who I was. Just a nameless girl who you could imagine your fantasies with. I'd ask about your day or what you were interested in, and I'd get a pic of your gut in an office chair with "whoaaaaa just drank two liters of soda :/ so bloated rn." How do I respond to that? "Good"? 😭

I think the worst DM I got was a guy saying I was "in denial about being a housewife," which I mean, I've dabbled in misogyny kink content before. Bimbofication is literally on my profile. I've never brought up my feminist views or politics, although I would consider myself a feminist, since all people should have equal rights and freedom of expression. I also believe housewives can be feminists. There is nothing on my account about my political views, nor about my career or education, because it's not important to writing porn about feeding dudes cake.

When I brushed him off with a "Haha," he just kept going, paragraphs and paragraphs about how he wanted me to be his trophy wife and clean his shit out of a bucket??? You don't even know me??? And I never responded, but it really just made me realize--just saying I'm into femdom, no matter what it is, is seen as a political transgression to these people. I'm literally into gentle femdom and want a chubby hubby/wife that I can make happy and secure financially. None of my posts are "Women are superior, men should be locked in cages." Most of my posts are "I want a gym guy who enjoys my cooking and jerks off a lot."

I DO use female supremacy tags sometimes because I use dozens of tags, and that's on me. I just type "fem" and click the ones that come up. I've also written works that are VERY misogynistic, like calling myself a fleshlight or literally writing fics about me getting gangbanged. I feel like this guy just saw "femdom" in my username and lost his mind. By tagging my stuff like this, I honestly was asking for trouble to come, so yeah, I think I just got unwanted attention I wasn't ready for.

In regards to talking about others topics, I just figured no one gave a shit, and people probably don't, but I am very passionate about metal music and music history. I have a useless amount of knowledge about various 90s/2000s metal bands and music from that time. If I get asked questions about it, I'll answer, and I DO need to follow more people on this website, but my current answer is: I don't know, maybe. I'll see how I feel.

[runnning-outof-time]

Free the Slave | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @little-diable ‘s 14k Follower Celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (AU)

Summary: (Y/N) becomes blinded by opportunity when mysterious preacher, Thomas Shelby, comes into her town that she doesn't see the bigger picture of what's going on at first. But when she’s shown it, she becomes even more intrigued.

Warnings: smoking, discussion of an attempted hanging, impersonation of a religious figure

Word Count: 3832

A/N: I’m…not exactly sure what this is. I struggled to write it because it’s so different from anything I’ve tried to write before, so I appreciate the challenge you posed, Chi (which congrats by the way 14 thousand followers is unreal!!) This is also the story that this moodboard was inspired by…I hope it lived up to the expectations. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the storyline in this is loosely based off of the show Damnation (which I really need to finish)…I pulled some plot points from it. It’s also inspired by KALEO’s song Free the Slave - I pulled a lot of the lyrics from the song and incorporated them into the story.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Dark days are coming," Thomas Shelby spoke in a firm, ominous tone as he looked out at the people who had gathered before him, "whether you want them to or not. They're coming for you; coming for everyone in this room. You will have to make the choice on whether you want to fight or take shelter and hide. But before you choose, remember this: he who takes shelter is often forgotten about...it is the man who fights for what he believes in that gets to tell his tale," he paused then, hearing sounds of agreement coming from the crowd.

Hearing these reactions spurred him on. This was what he craved; the response from those who so easily subscribed to his word. He held a confident expression as he looked out at the congregation, which was still buzzing over the words that he said. He knew that he had them in the palm of his hand.

"Those dark days are almost here!" his voice cut through the talk of the crowd, bringing the attention back on him, "it will soon be time for us to stand up and fight for what we believe. The day of reckoning is almost here. So I ask all of you...is your conscience clear?" he ended by raising his eyebrows as he asked the question, panning across the crowd one more time. "Think on that," he left the crowd with a parting sentence, leaving his sermon open for the next time he'd step up on the pulpit and speak.

He stepped away from it and was immediately stopped by members of the crowd who were eager to talk about what had just been said. Tommy didn't say much. Instead he nodded along as he listened to the excited conversations; something inside of him churning as he realized just how into his word these people were. He'd never met a more receptive crowd in all of his travels.

A woman standing in the corner of the room caught his eye as he 'listened' to another person drone on about their take on his sermon. He could care less about how they received it. All that mattered to him was that they listened. But this woman...she interested him.

And she stuck around; waiting until all of the other churchgoers spoke to the man who'd just delivered a moving sermon before she decided to approach him herself. "Preacher Shelby," she started off as she stopped in front of him.

"Hello," he greeted her with a nod of his head.

"I was really moved by what you said in your sermon today," she said to him, and unlike all of the other conversations Tommy had stood through before this one, he listened, "people around here are too afraid to be upfront and confront their fate. What you said was right...we can't just let it overtake us. We must do something about it."

"I'm glad to hear that you found meaning in my sermon," Tommy started, a sense of poise in his voice, "too often people hear the truth and want to run away from it."

"I won't run from it," she told him in an assured tone, her words making a look of intrigue form on his face. There was something about this woman. "Preacher Shelby, I think I can help you," she said then, tilting her chin slightly upwards to show the confidence that she had.

"You think so?" he questioned her, his eyebrows raised. She only nodded, biting at her cheek to contain the grin that was threatening to form on her lips. "What's your name then?" he asked her, his lips parted slightly as he awaited her response.

"It's (Y/N)," she happily shared with him, "(Y/N) (Y/L/N)."

"Well, (Y/N)..." he started off, giving her a once over before continuing, "I look forward to speaking with you in the future."

"As I with you, Preacher Shelby," she allowed her grin to surface, and it stayed present on her face as she stepped backwards, leaving the conversation so that she could turn and exit the meeting house.

Tommy watched her leave, even more so intrigued now than he was before. He didn't get too long to look at her fleeting figure though as another man had approached him and wanted to get into the deeper meanings of what he'd just spoken about...oh if that man knew that there weren't any to begin with.

It took twenty minutes until he was finally able to leave the meeting house. His car was the only one left in the lot, which made the slip of paper sitting on the driver's seat catch him completely off guard. He instantly reached for his revolver that was tucked away inside his jacket, brandishing it and doing a sweep over the land; making sure nobody was waiting to ambush him.

He opened the car door once he found that the perimeter was clear, grabbing the paper and opening it. There were two sentences written on it: meet me by the riverside later on today...I have things to tell you. — (Y/N). Tommy pursed his lips together as he read the note over again. What things could she have to tell me? he wondered to himself, looking up again to make sure that he was still alone and hadn't been drawn into a trap. The land around him was still empty; no trap had been set, which meant that this woman actually wanted to talk with him. And he was interested.

He got into the vehicle after stuffing the note into his jacket pocket and started it before lighting himself a cigarette. He then took a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly before putting the car into drive and leaving the lot.

——

(Y/N) was already sitting on one of the rocks positioned by the river when Tommy's car pulled up to where she told him to meet her. She watched as he shut off the engine and exited the vehicle. "I'm pleased that you showed up," she stated as he walked over to where she was sitting.

"I'm interested in what you had to tell me," he said to her, his statement holding truth. He was curious about her.

"Have a seat," she told him, moving over on the rock so that there was enough room for him to sit.

He nodded before sitting in the empty space. He looked at her then, and when she said nothing, he began speaking, "what is it that you wanted to tell me?" he asked, cutting right to the chase.

"I need your help," she kept her first statement vague.

"With what?" he took the bait, his eyebrows furrowing together as he asked the question.

"With what they've decided to do to a man in town," her answer was still vague.

"What are they doing with him?" he asked another question, his patience slowly wearing thin. She asked him to come out here...he shouldn't be the one prying for answers.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, ready to explain everything now that she saw he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. "You may or may not know that there's a strike happening in town. The men are protesting the low wages and terrible conditions. A man named Harvey was asked to come back...the bosses told him that they'd give him an increased pay if he broke the strike and returned. He's hesitant, but he has to...he's got two young children to feed and another on the way. His family couldn't keep living on nothing. He was desperate."

"The point of this is...?" Tommy trailed off, a slight amount of confusion present in his voice. Why was she telling him this?

"They're going to hang him, Preacher Shelby," she dropped the bomb, her voice dire, "he's an honest man, and yet they're going to hang him. They say he isn't guilty, but that someone still has to pay. And they won't be pleased until it happens because they want to make a statement...to show everyone what happens if you stray from the cause."

"Why're you sharing this information with me?" he asked her, still trying to figure out where he fit into this situation. Sure, it shocked him to hear that this innocent man was going to be hanged for trying to provide for his family, but at the same time he'd personally taken down men for far lesser offenses.

"Because they'll listen to you," she wasted no time in answering him, her eyes showing how much emotion she had invested into this predicament.

"How can you be sure that they will?" he asked her another question.

"I saw how they listened to you today, as you spoke about the dark days that are upon us. I saw how they lined up to speak to you afterwards. They were moved by your words. What you say holds weight in their minds. They'll surely listen if you tell them that what they're doing is unjust. You just need to get them to see sense," she continued with her pleas, making a strong case for why he should stop them.

Tommy took a deep breath, fingers itching to pull the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket so that he could let the smoke clear his mind. He had little care about these workers' movement...their struggle wasn't affecting him, so why should he go and stick his neck out for a man he'd never met? But yet (Y/N) pleas were weighing on his mind. He wondered for a moment if that was because they solidified the fact that his plan was working, or if it was simply because of the woman who was making them. He'd met few like her in all of his travels.

"Say you'll help me, Preacher Shelby," (Y/N) spoke again after a few silent moments had passed. Her voice had gotten even more desperate in the time that had passed without a decision being made. She hated that she was stooping this low to a man who she'd just met earlier that day, but she had exhausted all of her other options. "Say you'll help this honest man and his family."

"What'll be in it for me?" he asked her then, tilting his chin up slightly as he asked the question that had been burning a hole in his mind since she made her case. It had been hard for him not to ask this earlier...everyone was motivated by something after all.

"Anything," she blurted out without second thought, "I'll give you anything you'd want if you can help this man."

Tommy clicked his tongue at her words, shaking his head slightly. Stupid girl, he thought to himself, making foolish deals with people she hardly knows. "It isn't smart of you to put the word 'anything' out on the table, love," he told her, "someone might just hold you to it," his words were said as a warning, hoping to get her to realize what she'd done.

"I'm desperate," she didn't take it back.

"I can see," he pointed out.

"Will you help me, Preacher Shelby?" she asked him again, no care for his ominous comments present in her words.

She's persistent...I'll give her that, he thought to himself as he thought her statements over. It was unlike his choices in the past, but something was telling him to help her. "I'll help you," he made up his mind, his words making her grab onto his hand and squeeze it out of appreciation.

"Thank you so much, Preacher Shelby. You have no idea what kind of service you is doing for this man and his family," she said to him, sharing her praise for his decision, "thank you," she uttered her thanks and squeezed his hand one last time before letting it go and fighting the embarrassment that was bubbling up in her from making such a brash decision to grab him.

"When is this happening?" he asked her, now wanting more details about the event he'd agreed to stop.

"I...I'm not sure yet," she hesitantly answered him, sheepishness present in the apologetic smile she sent him. She didn't think she'd get this far.

Great, Tommy thought to himself, wanting to bring his hand to his face in frustration, I've agreed to this and she has no bloody clue of the finer details.

"I could get you the information though!" she jumped to tell him before he could back out of the deal. "I mean it, I can find everything out and tell you as soon as I have it," she added, her desperation present once again.

"Ok," he nodded, making her sigh in relief. She was happy to hear that he was still interested. "I'm staying at the inn; room 273. Come there when you find any information," he told her then, hoping that she wouldn't question the fact that he didn't have a permanent residence in the town.

"I will," she nodded as well, "thank you so much, Preacher Shelby," she expressed her gratitude once again.

"Thank me when it's over," he told her, his voice unintentionally holding a grim tone.

——

(Y/N) rushed down the hall of the inn, intently looking at each of the number plaques until she found the one she was looking for. She'd visited this room only a few days ago, but today it felt like she couldn’t get to it soon enough.

She knocked on the door the instant she got to it, and after trying four times, it opened. "Preacher Shelby," she panted, having not quite caught her breath yet, "thank you," she added once she trusted her voice again.

"For?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows, slightly surprised by seeing her at his door.

"You told me to thank you when it's over," she reminded him of their conversation by the riverside, "it's over, so thank you."

Tommy nodded as what they spoke about came back to him. "There's no need to thank me, love...they backed down quickly once I reminded them that judgment would be brought upon them and they would be condemned for hanging an innocent man," he gave her a rundown of how things unfolded.

"So you'll forgive them, Father?"

"Why?" Her question surprised him.

"Because they know not what they do...they're only working for their cause. My goal was to make sure that my brother stayed alive. I didn't want them to be condemned," she said to him, her stomach doing flips at the idea.

"Your brother?"

"That man was my brother," she told him, nodding slightly to accentuate her point. "You stopped them from hanging him. He was able to go back to his family because of what you said."

"Condemnation is up to God to decide," Tommy told her, "have a good day, (Y/N)," he moved to wrap up the conversation, starting to close the door between them.

(Y/N) stopped it before it could latch. "Wait, Preacher Shelby," she said, sticking her arm between the door and the frame.

"What?" Tommy asked as he opened the door again.

"I want to follow your cause...to help out in any way that I can," she said to him, her eyes locked onto his as she spoke.

Tommy furrowed his brows at her statement, letting it sink in before he stuck his neck out into the hallway so that he could look both ways; checking to see if it was clear. Upon finding it empty, he grabbed her forearm and ushered her into the room. (Y/N) gasped at the suddenness, but didn't try to pull away. Instead she followed him in, letting him shut the door behind her before he moved to lean against the chest of drawers sitting on the opposite side of the room. Nothing was said as he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and took one from it, rolling it across his bottom lip before bringing a lighter up to strike it.

(Y/N) watched as he took a drag and exhaled the smoke slowly, letting it billow out around his face. The way he looked at her from across the room made her shudder involuntarily. It seemed as though he was sizing her up, and he was now surrounded by a darker presence, one that she'd never aliken to a man of God. It confused her slightly, but overall made her more intrigued by him.

"Did you hear what I said before, Preacher Shelby?" she asked him, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "I said that I want to be invested in your cause...to support you fully. I offered you anything in return for helping my brother, and that offer still stands, although I don't think I could ever be able to repay you for it."

"You don't want to do that, (Y/N)," he told her, speaking in a low voice that caused another shudder to course through her. She saw that he was now gripping the top of the dresser, his knuckles white.

"Why not?" she asked, playing the innocent part to continue to - hopefully - get more answers out of him.

"Because I'm not the man you think I am," he started vague, looking her over once before he continued, "I'm no preacher, and I'm certainly not one who's cause you should invest your time into."

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked another question, still not deterred by his ominous answers.

"I'm a bad man, (Y/N)," he admitted, pushing himself away from the dresser so that he could take a few steps in her direction.

"You saved my brother's life. You must not be so bad," she pointed out, not backing down from him even though he was becoming more daunting with each step he took in her direction. She wasn't afraid though. He almost wanted to laugh at how innocent she sounded.

"Words weren't what got your brother spared...it was my actions that did. I threatened those men; told them that they'd face a worse demise than the man they'd accused if they went forward with it," he told her of how things really went down, moving closer to her as he spoke.

"I don't care how you did it," she said to him, holding her ground.

"You should," he responded, standing toe to toe with her now.

"I don't," she insisted, taking a moment to look him over. She could see his striking blue eyes now. The ice in them was evident and staring into them did not reveal what he was thinking. It did make her more entranced by him though; she’d never seen eyes that blue in her life. "I'm tired of living this life...I'm tired of having no say. You accepted my invite, listened to me, and then brought justice where it was needed. That stands for something. I want you to free the slave in me; to free me from this hell that I've been tangled up in," she said then, her eyes staying locked with his as she watched them flit down to her lips before trailing back up. Seeing that made a fire ignite inside of her, "you don't scare me, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, dropping the religious title but still addressing him formally.

"I don't?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised as he held his intent gaze on her.

"No," she shook her head ever so slightly, a grin ghosting on her lips, "you excite me," she admitted then, her eyes locked with his, watching for how he'd react to her confession.

A grin teetered on his lips as he heard what she had to say. "Excite you?" he questioned, humming to himself before he continued, "I do bad things, (Y/N)...it'd be wise of you to rethink what you've said," he warned her.

"I said I'd give you anything," she reminded him, holding her ground even though she felt like she was going to combust on the inside. These things he was saying were meant to ward her off, but they only made her want him more.

She'd had her eyes on him from the moment she entered the meeting house he was speaking at. No man she'd met in the past had ever come close to the way he was making her feel at that moment. Her learning of his true persona made him even more enticing; now she was just waiting for him to make a move, because it seemed as though he was sizing her up in the way that she'd been doing to him.

His eyes roamed her face once more before he finally spoke again, his words cutting the tension like a knife, "so then tell me, (Y/N)...where's your savior now, eh?" he asked her, his eyebrows raising as he waited intently for her response.

"He's right in front of me," she wasted no time in telling him before she couldn't resist herself any longer and went forward with reaching over to take hold of the sides of his neck so that she could collide their lips together in a haste kiss.

It didn't take long for Tommy to take over, moving her back so that she was pressed against the door, his hands gripping onto her hips as he kissed her with the same amount of intensity that she was putting into her efforts. Her hands roamed up to his head, knocking the peaked cap off so that she could grip onto to the longer stands of his cropped haircut. They kissed until their lungs were burning, and (Y/N) was the first to pull back for air, giving him the opportunity to press a few kisses to her jaw.

"Is there something other than preacher that I can call you?" she panted out, bringing her knee up to brush against his thigh, her actions making him groan in response.

"Tommy," he shared his name in between the kisses he'd been pressing against her skin.

"Tommy..." she tried it out for herself, loving how it rolled off of her lips, "I said I'd give you anything, Tommy...just free the slave in me, please," she finished her statement with a satisfied sigh before his lips found hers again.

"Be careful what you ask for, love," he cautioned her, but his words fell on deaf ears as she was already too far gone to heed to the warning.

It was too late to turn back now. There wasn't anything that he could say or do that would make her stray from him. She realized that she was getting involved with a man who was surely closer to the devil than he was to God, and that notion alone excited her. She was invested, and he was going to free the slave in her...starting with making her feel things she'd never felt in her life.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

Listen to the song Free the Slave by KALEO HERE.

[relaxxattack]

do you have any more thoughts on alternian fashion culture, like in the 'pale fashion' post?

i have a few!

my additional imagines of quadrant-specific fashion were shown in this post here, but to go a bit more into detail about it i think in general alternians want to wear clothes that are easy to move around in and easy to fight in. being able to wear clothing that's big and flowy means you are either stupid or incredibly powerful; it's attention grabbing either way. man, now i'm just thinking of doing drawings of alternian fashion trends...

i don't remember if i mentioned it in the tags of that post or not but my thoughts on caliginous fashion is that you would wear shit that's seductive but at the same time warding, like for example, a crop top with barbed wire at the ends. something that says "ooo i'm so hot and you want me" but at the same time, "you can't have me and if you try to touch this you will get painfully injured." it's a bit of a mockery and a challenge. that's why their top in the drawing says "i dare you to touch me", that's very much the "essence" of pitch fashion to me.

ash fashion involves a sportier look, something for your average troll trying to go do their gogdamn paperwork. it's nice, because you are dressing up for your ashmates, but it doesn't stand out too much; because in the end you're not trying to impress anyone. you're there to get down to business and sort some people's shit out. obviously it's also inspired by popular (earth) fall weather fashion, since the ashen holiday is in the fall.

there are also a lot of chains incorporated into the ash outfit as jewelry... the idea of chains being a popular form of ash symbolism comes from @visionaryparacosmos! i think it's a really cute and charming little way of saying, "hey you're stuck with me and i'm going to keep your grounded".

i hope that gives you a small idea of my thoughts! (sorry this took so long to answer you would not believe how busy i have been)

[rosie-b]

WIP Reblog Game

Thank you for tagging me @coffeebanana! <3

List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

Then tag 10 writer friends!

WIP TITLES

(I'm not sure if these wips are supposed to all be partially posted already or not, so here's a mix of fics with potential sequels and multichapter fics)

True Blue - enemies au + kwami swap (Marinette is the Peacock in this one) (it's been nearly a year since I posted the first chapter and I really thought it would be finished by now T^T)

Guilty by Association sequel (probably) - ladrien fake dating post-hawkmoth defeat

For the Sake of a Ring sequel (maybe) - lovesquare multiverse shenanigans before it was cool (unrelated to the paris special)

A Chat Walks Into an Office series (perhaps) - crack, ladrien, and gabriel realizing he's an idiot after an unexpected reveal

Growing Fangs (someday) - canon divergent future au centered on the next generation of heroes (the dupain-cheng kids) (it's been over a year since the last update bc i wrote myself into a ditch and can't get out of it hehe)

(As you might be able to tell, I don't leave most of my fics unfinished for long; I'm normally pretty good at leaving my ideas as oneshots or finishing them quickly.)

UPCOMING SECTIONS

The Gorizilla chapter!!!!! It's gonna be so fun (and an emotional roller coaster)

Ladrien with fake dating!!! The first fic was more-or-less a setup for this exact scenario. The problem: I have roughly no ideas for which direction to take this series atm

Ok, so this fic will be the battle scene from Adrien's pov, featuring many different universes' Ladybugs. I came up with one Marinette who is literally a rose and I love her so much so I'm most excited to try to incorporate her story (gonna be a challenge though)

Finishing the series. I might honestly end it where it is, but I do have a draft of Hawk Moth meeting Ladybug and explaining what happened (she doesn't believe him, of course, and she's very concerned for her partner)

Ok, after the decade-long timeskip, Chat and Ladybug will start off as the main heroes. However, they'll be forced to give their Miraculous to their kids for Reasons™, and I am very excited to get to that part and what happens afterwards (i swear i have a plan, it's just i keep getting sidetracked)

I get distracted by new ideas all the time, so the only 100% guaranteed updates are for True Blue (within a month) and Growing Fangs (before I die). BUT. I will be motivated to work on the other sequels if you guys vote for them or leave comments/tags saying you'd like to read them!

So:

10 new people to tag is a lot, so let's see: @lady-de-mon-coeur, @nemaliwrites, @marimbles, @chai-ki, @aidanchaser, @deinde-prandium, @ninadove, @fragileizy, and @hamsteriffic (no pressure, of course! and sorry if i re-tagged you)

[askhakukusanagi]

Hey Haku! I’m actually in a really good mood. Today is birthday and this birthday feels different than the others. My family doesn’t go all out. They do the bare minimum, but I showed up to my doctor’s appointment (I’m on treatment) and this sweet older man. Gave me a birthday card with a gift card in it! That’s not all too, I saw a deer walking by my house. I live in a city, so it was different when I saw the deer. For some reason, that deer felt like something to me. Not sure what it means, felt spiritual really. Anyways! Just wanted to share that with you! ☺️

Happy late birthday!

The bare minimum... that just won't do, will it? We're fixing that, here and now. Name a place, or an activity, and I'll make sure we can go. Don't worry about the work. This is your time, let loose.

I'm very glad he gave you a card. The gift card is a nice touch, but, even without it, it's wonderful that he remembered. Since coming here to Darkwick, I've come to realize how much effort it really takes to go to the store, find the card aisle, and try to find one the receiver may like. Even without the work of getting an R&R for a grocery store trip.

I was hoping to make you one from scratch, as a gift. I hope you'll forgive me, but I didn't want to leave you waiting too long after your birthday. We can't have that either. ;)

And, the deer. I'm not as well versed as some of my housemates may be, but I believe I overheard Zenji on and on about symbolic references sometimes. With it being so near your birthday, it could be a good omen. Deer are apparently tied to spiritual power and finding authority. But for some, it apparently can show when you're looking for unconditional love. You could've come visit me too, if that's the case. ;)

I'm finding a lot of different sources, but, if I had to give you a meaning based purely upon my own intuition, it would be to stop being so hard on yourself. You may find yourself growing into some rich inspiration or some creativity you never saw coming, or perhaps some birthday wisdom. It's not always going to be easy to incorporate that into who you are without some hiccups. Stitching isn't always seamless, I've heard a close friend say. Reach your antlers towards the sky, and enjoy the feeling. Don't give up that spirituality, and that wonder. And, have a fantastic birthday week. Life is what you make of it, and who's to say you can't make it what you want?

Don't take yourself too seriously. Life is to be enjoyed.

Thank you for sharing this with me, Anon. I'm really glad you seem to be doing well, even if I am a bit late, and, even with the occasional birthday struggle.

Now, go enjoy the cute little party hats. I know I'd love to see you in them. ;)

For Anon

《AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I'm so sorry I'm late, hun. I hope your birthday went well, and that it only keeps getting better from here. Birthdays can be rough, but you seemed to take it in stride, so for that, I'm very proud of you! Wishing you all the best, and more. <3》

《Also, a brief note from the mun, but I will likely be responding to a bunch and queueing them, in case you don't see them right away. I recieved a lot of asks overnight, but I don't want to clog the tags <3 Even so, I look forward to every single one. Until next time! 》

[illarian-rambling]

Hopping on this open tag from @kaylinalexanderbooks because I'm boooored at work!

OC Interaction Tag

Kaylin's OC: Rose is a twelve-year-old girl with dimensiokinesis, or dimension manipulation, though she mainly can just sense dimensions as she's working on the rest. Her mother has made her insecure about her weight and other parts of her appearance, but the one thing that makes her feel good is her art, outfits, and fashion designs, which she is very, very proud of. Though her personality has been repressed, Rose is actually very compassionate, friendly, and spontaneous. She doesn't let her emotions show, but she feels very deeply and strongly. Rose does like fun and excitement, she just hasn't had much of a chance to follow her impulses. Despite being more of an introvert, if her friend (and unrequited crush) Lexi is not there, she'll be the one at the lead making all the introductions and talking to others. She believes she can handle a lot more stress than she can, so she doesn't see the problem in, well, her problems stacking up. She likes doing things her way and defying anything that holds her back, though she is more patient despite going on impulse sometimes. It's not uncommon for others to see her as lazy or tell her she needs to do better at certain things. She's reluctant to accept the affection she craves, but when she opens up she's incredibly well-loved and charming. She doesn't stay angry and doesn't like arguing, even if she explodes when she does.

My OC: Astra DuClaire is a 25 year old human witch with vitiligo and a trademark ribbon coat she wears everywhere. She grew up on a debtor's farm and has worked her ass off to learn magic to support her family, even if she wasn't allowed to get a true university education on account of her low birth. This has given her a bit of a chip on her shoulder. From the outside, Astra is supremely confident, bordering on arrogant. She sings the praises of her infallible magic at any opportunity. This is a cover for a deep well of insecurity. Astra loves magic, but she's been told so many times that a debtor's daughter like her will never be a true mage that she's internalized that attitude, believing at her core that all her prized skills are flawed. Other than that, she's mouthy, with a crude sense of humor, and a deep desire to help people even if they're total strangers. Like all mages, her curiosity brings her to places most would never go. She also tends to act before thinking things through, probably on account of the adhd. This can result in her saying things she doesn't mean or even causing violence she didn't intend. Her hobbies include magic (duh), mechanics, and embroidery. Astra loves to sew and often incorporates runes into her designs. She is demisexual, but who needs a relationship when there's adventure to be had and massive amounts of emotional obliviousness to cloud your perception!

How they'd interact: Surprisingly, or maybe not, Astra has a soft spot for kids. I'm not saying she's good with kids (she will teach them to make fireworks and swear like a mechanic), but she does like them. That said, she would immediately want to protect Rose. Maybe fight her mom, idk. Given how good her relationship with her parents is, Astra despises people who treat their kids poorly. I'd like to think that seeing a woman with some extra curves be so confident in everything would help Rose with her body image a bit. Also, they can bond over fashion! They both design clothes and though I imagine their style is quite different, I think they'd have fun sewing together. Astra would be super curious about the 'dimension magic wackiness' and would want to run lots of tests. Probably, she'd be a little disappointed when this twelve-year-old doesn't hold the same rigorous adherence to the scientific method and also just can't answer half her questions. I think both of them might recognize the same emotional repression and explosive temper in each other. Astra would definitely try to help Rose admit her crush on Lexi, probably through some convoluted grand plan involving gifts and flowers. I think Rose would laugh to see just how deep in Astra is with her own crush, all while remaining painfully oblivious. They could wingman for each other, is what I'm getting at. All in all, I think these two would be great and Astra is still 100% trying to throw down with Rose's mom.

I'll tag @thecomfywriter @the-golden-comet @ominous-feychild @willtheweaver @mysticstarlightduck and anyone else who wants to play!

[sonic-gallery]

Another World Ogiri June 2023 [What are Tails and Marine doing...? ]

The delivery man who eats the food on the way and asks for refills is dangerous.

Two characters appear every month in surprising outfits and situations! Let's enjoy Ogiri together with illustrations that will make your imagination run wild!

This time, Tails, who plays the heroine on stage in a cute costume, and Marin, who plays the gorgeous and brave protagonist, appear! In contrast to Marin, who is playing her role and enlivening the play, Tails seems confused by this situation...?

What kind of lines or narration would you use?

You can style it based on the atmosphere and world view of the two of you in the game, or you can create a bold arrangement! In the example, Tails can't hide his confusion from Marine, who is bright-eyed and arrogant to the max... Such free glee jokes are also OK!

Please enjoy it and tweet with the tag "#Isekai Ogiri" on Twitter ♪

We will introduce the good ones in a reply from Sonic's official Twitter account.

We are looking forward to your fun Ogiri posts!

Act6: “The true princess!?”

A large stage in a theater shining in the spotlight. "Tails", the heroine of poor fortune, appears in a beautiful dress from the balcony of the set. In front of the audience, who were holding their breath, she uttered that famous line...

"Oh, Romeo, Romeo. Why are you...?"

...Romeo? Why am I singing? ? what is this music? ...Where is this? Tails, who had been doing his best until now, suddenly came to his senses and was in a state of panic...!

As if she had just noticed that many people were watching her, she started to wave her skirt around in a panic. Just then, a familiar voice came from downstairs.

"Ah, my beloved little fox, Juliet~. I can't help but think that I'm so handsome~♪"

Tails leans over from the balcony and is surprised to see the owner of the singing voice.

It was the mysterious figure of ``Marin'', a raccoon girl who once went on an adventure with Tails, wearing a sparkling old costume and singing with a dreamy expression on her face.

"Marin! Why are you here...? And that strange outfit...what the hell are you doing here?" (...Idiot! Tails! Who are you? (Tan? We're in the middle of a performance now! We did it yesterday too, right?)" "A performance? I'm sure we did it yesterday, but... what do you mean? What the heck is this memory of...!? And this dress... What is it!?”

Marin looked over at Tails, who was flustered with embarrassment, and spoke to him in a low voice.

"(Tails, did you skip a line? Oh no. It's about time for the audience to notice...!)" "That's right! We were in the middle of a performance...!"

Tails certainly has a strange memory of being on stage that he has never experienced before. But now that I'm in such turmoil, I can't even act. Tails bursts into tears and Marin tries to cheer him up.

"(...Alright! It's time to leave this to us! The show must go on, Tails!)" "Thank you. I can't believe the day will come when Marin's baseless self-confidence will look so reliable... ..”

"(You can always rely on us!)...I remember the days of exciting dreams with us, Juliet~♪" "Huh? Oh...Oh, Romeo~♪ I don't know if you did a great job, but it was fun~♪

...Thus, Marin's obvious words of help and Tails' subtle responses were surprisingly well-received by the audience, and they were able to survive the performance that day.

A few days later......

Tails, who had calmed down, researched the changed world on his own and was able to get a general understanding of the situation.

Tails tells Marin about this every day and tries to convince her to take some action, but Marin, who has memories of being the chairman of the theater troupe "Yashinomi Troupe", has no idea what he's saying. . On the contrary, Marin takes all of them as ideas for a play, and somehow ends up incorporating them into the content of the next play...

Tails was starting to get fed up with the days when his appeals were in vain. After the performance, Tails is sitting in the dressing room, feeling helpless as usual, when Marin enters the room in a good mood.

"Good job, Tails! Today's story was also brilliant! Thanks to Tails for always providing us with interesting stories!"

While saying this, he opened the refrigerator with a practiced movement, took out a cup containing a semi-gel-like liquid in a suspicious primary color, and handed it to Tails with a proud look on his face.

"...Let's drink the special drink that we made that will really energize you! Blue Material's rice koji mixed with palm fruit juice! It'll make you feel energetic!" " Ah, thank you...I'll refrain from doing so. ...I want to stay healthy. More importantly, it's about Eggman that I talked about yesterday..."

Tails tries to explain the situation to Hato and Marin today.

"Let's talk about the story right away? He's that guy who does something outrageous to conquer the world and behaves suspiciously, right?"

In her mind, "Eggman" has become an evil old gentleman who gets in the way of the main characters in the play. He appears in various scenes saying things like ``What a crazy name'', but this is also gaining popularity. Despite feeling like there was a misunderstanding, Tails continued talking undeterred.

"And you probably don't know this, but Silver..." "I'm telling you, that famous genius skater has psychic powers! Don't worry. I'll definitely use it on stage tomorrow! Skate with that! We're going to elope!'' ``...Haa''

Visual Kei vocalist, egg fortune teller, mysterious hero ``Vectorman''... No matter how much Tails thanks the situation, which has changed drastically from its original world, Marine treats it all as material for a play. is.

Looking at Tails, whose shoulders slumped as if this day would be no good, Marin sat down next to him with an overly compassionate expression on his face and spoke slowly to him.

"You know, Tails. I'm really going to buy Tails for thinking seriously about the material. I have a dream and a mission as the chairman of this ``Yashinomi Troupe.'' If I do my best and make everyone around the world smile, I'll use the money I earn to build a Marine Palace!"

Marin puts one foot on the sofa and raises her fist. It would have been a great speech if it wasn't for the second half, but Tails smiled bitterly, thinking that this regrettable feeling was also one of Marin's strengths.

"...I respect that spirit. But... everything I say is true and not a joke. It's also true that Marin is not a resident of this world. ? That's right! You live in the same world as Blaze! Don't you remember anything from this?" "What...! The same world as Blaze!?"

Marin's eyes widen and she shows a big reaction. A few seconds of silence reigns in the dressing room.

Finally, Tails regains the light in his eyes, thinking that he has finally understood the story...

"...I understand! In other words...it's finally time for me to become the Magical Princess!" "How did that happen?!"

Tails closes his eyes and feels helpless. Am I the only one who feels that something is wrong with the world? A great feeling of loneliness and despair attacked Tails.

"Uh, waaaaaaaaaaaa!"

I can not continue......! Thinking this, Tails starts running, ignoring the mess of his skirt, and rushes out of the dressing room.

"T-Tails, wait!"

Even though he was shouting that, he didn't chase after him...Marin smiled bitterly, thinking that he was in trouble every time, and took a bite of the drink he had failed to give to Tails...

"Wow, first of all! What is this!"

The taste was so bad that I cried out the loudest of the day.

"The curtain falls..."

``Yashinomi Troupe''.

A very popular theater troupe run by the star actor Tails and the ambitious chair Marin. Although their appearance and memories have changed, they still seem to have retained their original personalities...

...and that time. The door at the back door of the theater suddenly opened, and as I was looking inside, a figure ran out wearing a fluffy pink dress and wearing a haphazard form, colliding with a thud and knocking me over!

"I-I'm sorry!"

Saying that, that familiar figure lifted the hem of her skirt and tried to stand up... As soon as she looked at me, she froze for a few seconds... and said in a thin voice as if she could somehow squeeze it out. I said this to him.

"So...Sonic!? It's Sonic, right!? He's dressed like that, but he's Sonic, right!?" " It's been a long time, Tails! You've changed so much in a cute way...it really suits you. Isn't it?"

...And then Tails got tired and confused again. I started crying in the back alley of the theater, and it seemed like I was bullying a girl, which was a problem...!

It's amazing how Tails hasn't changed even after my transformation! As expected of Sonic, he said it with a tearful smile, but that was his line, wasn't it Tails?

After a while...

"So, this world has changed drastically due to some kind of 'disaster' caused by Eggman."

Tails regained his composure and began to organize the situation for Sonic.

"We were all trying to stop 'something' right up until the last moment, but we couldn't stop in time. Everyone was replaced by something with a different appearance and memory...Sonic was the only one who somehow escaped the change. ” “...You too, Tails?”

Tails is a little embarrassed and points above his head, humbly admitting that there was a time lag.

“Maybe it’s because of this that I was able to remember who I was before?” “What about that tiara that suits you?”

Although a little embarrassed by Sonic's mockery, Tails explains that before the incident, he had a yellow Chaos Emerald in his possession.

"This tiara is probably a transformed version of the Chaos Emerald. I think it exerted some sort of power to protect the memories I possessed..."

Sonic nods loudly.

"I see. If that's the case, this is mine too...?" "That's right! It's the Chaos Emerald! Sonic had one too! Maybe my reasoning is correct after all...! ”

Tails continues that there must be other friends like him who have regained their memories.

"Okay, I get it, Tails! First, find a friend who has the Chaos Emerald! Together, we'll solve the mystery of the anomaly! Then, we'll defeat Eggman and restore the world to normal! That's what we're doing, right?" "Yeah! Chaos I think I can tell Emerald with my energy detector!" "Great! Tails, you're the best after all! ...Eggman isn't having any luck, either? I can’t believe I still remember it!”

The two silently dodge the thumbs-up and start running. The ``resistance'' against this great disaster that has occurred in the world has now been launched by two of the best people.

to be continued......!

[saturnine-saturneight]

Writeblr interview tag

Tagged by @tragedycoded [here] 💕

I thought I was going to sleep a little longer this morning, but looks like I'm up for good, so off we go. Good time to answer this.

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels (working on one) or poems (used to write a lot of them). I'd love to try my hand at short stories, though!

What genre do you prefer reading?

I am not a voracious reader. I used to be, I'd like to be that again, but right now, I am not. Those posts that are like 'if you want to write you need to read'? Those are about me.

When I do read fiction, it's usually detective fiction. Easy to digest, no greater emotional investment. I also love horror, but haven't read much of it in the past few years.

Most of the things I read nowadays are nonfiction, generally medical or political (or a Wikipedia article in the middle of a conversation to clear up a question), though I also love reading about monsters and fables.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I go back and forth on this question. I'm a planner in that I know what I want from a novel or a chapter, and then a write as I go-er when it comes to getting there.

What music do you listen to while writing?

Less of a specific genre and moreso just songs I know in and out so I don't pay too much attention to them! Often on repeat. This is even more extreme when I draw. I drew those chibis I posted the other day to the living tombstone's cat song, lmfao.

Favorite books/movies?

I love horror comedies. Beetlejuice, death becomes her, little shop of horrors. Things like that. Nope was also incredible and has stuck with me, but that's not a comedy.

Any current WIPs?

Just Reburial :) I like to focus.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

Oversized black T-shirt, grey jeans, black converse. Phone in hand, headphones always either around the neck or being worn. I'm boring 🤘

Create a character description of yourself:

Jules stands at average height, their blond hair reaching down to their back, their face caught in a permanent expression of mild worry. They talk too fast, always fidgeting.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Archetypes and ways of speaking/thinking/acting, yes. Whole people, no. I always mix and match traits I've gotten to know in others and myself, and I pay close attention that I don't write 'in attack mode', meaning portraying certain mindsets as negative after someone annoyed me.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I'm not! Side characters die in Reburial, but I don't enjoy killing characters I like if it means that I can't use them in the same story again afterwards.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

I'm a tap water kind of guy ✌️ Caffeine gives me heart palps.

Slow or fast writer?

Medium? I don't make an effort to write fast.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

The majority of my horror comes from things that I personally find scary. When I get scared of something, I start reading, thinking, and talking about it, trying to understand it from all angles. And then sometimes, that also includes writing about it to see what exactly makes that fear tick, where it comes from, and which components are important to elicit the emotions. Fear based special interests, hahaha.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Some kind of imp or a puss in boots type of creature.

Most fav book cliche:

You know what, I have no idea. Nothing comes to mind.

Least favorite cliche:

I am, however, a little hater. There are a lot of romance clichés on this list, which is a genre I tend to avoid. (I'm fairly greyro ace and would count myself as that if I wasn't also engaged.) If I do read A Romance, it's always with something else going on, and even then I get annoyed often, haha. I want two or more characters to be profoundly, boundary blurringly weird about each other. I don't want to read that they locked eyes across the room and now I'm supposed to believe that they should be partners for life because they find each other attractive.

There are also countless fantasy tropes on this list. Chosen one stuff, holy wars against pure evil, stories with 'good kings', the list goes on. You have to be REALLY good to make me read fantasy.

Favorite scene to write?

I just really like writing dialogue. Banter, arguments, confessions, etc.

Reason for writing?

It's fun. 👍 I daydream about putting Reburial on Itch for free when it's done, illustrated and type-set, but that's as far as my publishing aspirations go.

Tagging @cowboybrunch @marlowethelibrarian @gioiaalbanoart @paeliae-occasionally @writingrosesonneptune + open !!

[makriiii]

A kinship, of sorts. (Frank Heck × freader)

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: As a member of the O’Driscoll's, the handy work for Colm led you places far and wide, which thereby led to meeting folks on a spectrum far and wide. As it was now, you found yourself having to choose between the life you wanted with the man you desired or escaping the life that chose you.

Authors note: This was initially a oneshot idea, which spiraled :') it's also so hard to find pictures of this man

Warnings: 18+, cursing, guns, nothing too bad yet..

Tags: Slight slow burn, found family, eventual smutt.

♡

(You can skip this if you'd like.)

This is something I've been thinking about writing for a while after I saw an old painting that gave me the idea.

I also decided I'd incorporate that plot into this Frank Heck fanfic I wanted to write, since I've never seen anyone write a fanfic about him (cries)

For those who don't know, he's a deleted character, but you'll see him on the collectable gunslinger cards in game. I think he's sexy hot and cool so therefore I will write down my fantasies about him🤑

Anywho, because he is a deleted character, and 1911 Jack only gives a short story about him, I believe he is open for a lot of interpretation.

So, I wanted to base heavily him off of Doc Holliday, of whom I also believe to be a certified sexy master, plus he respects women so I'm like aguhhh 😫 however Doc Holliday has an intellect and wit on a level I could only hope to match, but I will do my best :)

This is also something you could take to be part of y/n's backstory in caught. If you'd like it to be cannon or not cannon to the caught story, that's up to you since I didn't write anything about it in caught. I like to keep y/n's character open as much as possible, so you guys never feel alienated from any backstory elements of my own choosing.

But enough from me, read my story 😈

♡

"For the last time," grunted your fellow O'Driscoll, his tone serious compared to the two that chuckled lightly beside him as you rode up. "Get out of here kid, we got no business with you."

You raised a brow as you got off your horse to see what the commotion was about with your gang members and this... random kid.

He nearly buckled at the knees, his hands together in prayer. "But why can't I?" He begs, hoping his words would strike a chord. "I know how to shoot and steal! I can help you guys."

The boy, average in height and a bit unkempt, looked to be about fourteen or fifteen as he pleaded at the feet of Cormac. A gruff and often stern Irish man, not the one you'd go asking for things of this nature.

"You want to join us?" You question with a disbelieiving smirk. "What on God's green earth for?"

"Finally!" His sputtering siezed as he whipped around to meet your face, the one who let him speak his mind. Though you could tell he instantly questioned you due to your gender. "You ride with them?"

If the iron at your sides didn't make it obvious, you weren't sure what else would. "Sometimes I wish I didn't." You tried making it sound displeasurable, as he seemed to be one of the young men who liked the ideal of being an outlaw.

"Oh, please miss!" Now his badgering was directed solely towards you, but not before Cormac ruffled his hair harshly and pushed him aside.

He and your other two buddies scoffed in disbelief at the kids incessant pleading and started heading off, ushering you with them. "Colm wants this done today, don't waste your time on him."

You nodded, giving the kid one last glance before following them off the veranda.

Before you knew it, you felt your shirt being tugged at from behind, a desperate attempt and a ballsy show of determination.

You were quick to turn around and glare at the boys unduly behavior. "Now is that the best way to ask something of someone?" You question harshly, fixing your shirt.

Your buddies hadn't noticed your absence behind them, as they kept on in their direction, leaving you and this boy to conversate without interruption.

"You're the only one who seems to listen, so please hear me out, would ya?" His gaze turned soft and mushy, like you had just stolen and sucked down his candy. Tears were in the forecast if you weren't mistaken and here you were, feeling somewhat bad for him.

Glancing back once more, you finally engaged him fully. "Whats your name, boy?"

"Nathaniel. Nathaniel Clarke, ma'am." His voice shaky but hopeful.

"And where are your parents, Nathaniel?" That question seemed to shake him up more, though he didn't let it show for long. You could tell he wanted to be tough.

"Dead, Miss." His hazel eyes fixed on the ground as he dug his heel into the warped wood below him. "Doctor said he couldn't do nothin' for 'em."

"And this is the life you think they would've wanted you to turn to?"

Once again, no eye contact as he hesitated.

"I reckon not."

You huffed out a great deal of your guilt that was slowly building with each question. "Then take my advice and find yourself honest work. This ain't some rough and tumble fun, it's your life. Go find some cattle ranching work, somethin' or rather."

Breaking his eye contact with the ground, he finally met your eye. Searching for any semblance that you might change your mind. But now it seemed you'd finally broken and tamed the boy.

"I-" he mutters, perhaps now rethinking his decision. You gave him a bit of patience before checking behind you again, the rest of the boys nearly out of sight behind a building.

"Listen, kid, you wait here and think about it. If you're here when I get back, I'll consider it." You caved. Unwillingly, but you caved nonetheless. You saw in him yourself, and that did you in.

He shot up like a rocket and nodded, more than elated with that prospect.

"Okay!" He pumps his fist with victory and immediately situates himself on a bench no more than a few feet away. "I promise I'll be here when you're done."

The fire in his eyes and the excitement nearly made you smile, it was contagious, yet you knew what taking a path like yours would entail.

You turned and picked up your pace to catch up with the rest of the men, the walk giving you time to reflect.

As happy as he was, you could not share the sentiment for long. You debated wether you should come back at all. You didn't want this for a boy like him, his whole life still open as a plain. Not narrowed or dimmed to a single path of stone.

All you could do was hope he would find himself something better to do. Yet, the thought remained, if he didn't - would he find a different, possibly worse person to beg, one that would accept?

You felt responsible for a kid you had just now met, worried for his well being.

---

The town lay quiet and dim, only noises from the saloon sounded throughout the place. Fog had picked up and it was no doubt late.

You, Cormac, Conor and Willis were all far from home - or atleast the area that you were better familiar with. You were in Blackwater, the up and coming city where leads were plentiful.

"Whats the time, Cormac?" You asked, fighting off a yawn as you trudged through the slightly damp dirt below.

"Quarter to one." He responds, his voice heavy with exhaustion. The lot of you had just gotten done with an array of things. Gambling, negotiating and sorting some... 'pal's' of yours out. "We oughta get back soon to Valentine."

"Lest we want Colm to have our balls for it." Willis starts giggling while gesturing to his lower parts, which riles up Conor.

You couldn't believe the four of you were the ones Colm entrusted his most important work to. Perhaps Cormac and you, but Conor and Willis were just the two you babysat together.

Both of them had their humor, some of which you found funny, but not on this particular night. Cormac neither, though a bit harsh, he was calmer like yourself, leading to a better partnership between the two of you.

"No one unpaid would willingly take a look at those, but perhaps you'd both quiet down without them." You chime mockingly, rubbing your tired eyes. Not often did you stay up so late due to the trade off of getting up early.

Cormac stayed quiet, but you could tell he enjoyed your retort.

"We'd pay you to nab our balls! Itd be much more enjoyable than Colm doing it." Blurts Conor, getting quite the rise out of Willis. Their accents making them sound ever so silly.

Your horse was further away from where they had tied theirs, thankfully, leaving you guys to split not long after Conor and Willis's joking.

Cormac shoved Conor and Willis away toward their horses for you and nodded your way as you separated.

"I won't be coming back tonight to camp, I have business elsewhere, Cormac."

"That's fine. But Colm'll want you back in Valentine in due time." He replies, arranging himself to get up on his horse. "I'll tell him."

"Aw, don't tell us you're leaving again, y/n!" Willis pouts, whether he was serious or not you'd never tell. "She's goin' off to cheat on us again."

"With that Mr. High and Mighty?" Conor fires, annoyed in your choice of men.

"Who else you think? Dunderhead."

Conor slaps his friends shoulder, glaring. "Colm's gonna get fed up with your eloping soon, y/n."

"What can't two fine lads such as ourselves offer that he can?"

"Precisely. " Conor agrees, "two for one deal."

You sighed, they were cleaning your ears right off with all their badgering. "You both have a face only a mother could love."

"Ahh," Conor hissed out, "let me show you what a real man can do."

"Yeah and what about you taking a look at our-" Slapped upside the head by Cormac, he finally relented, a muffled snicker coming from him and Willis.

"Good riddans, you bothersome bastards." You couldn't help but laugh after all their talk, only to get shut down by Cormac.

You thanked him and made your way back to your horse. As you put away your earnings, aloof and in a rather good mood despite the fatigue, you heard soft snores.

You listened for a second, confused on whether you were hearing things or if someone was laid out sleeping close by. A drunkard probably.

When you peeked around your horse through the dark, on the bench, the realization slapped you in the face.

There was that Clarke boy. Asleep but stationed right where he promised he'd be.

Observing him for a short while, you thought on it again. The option of just leaving still available.

He slept peacefully. His hat over his face and his pistol hidden by his grasp on it.

It crushed you - the decision that was to be made. He had waited all day for you to come back. His determination from earlier evident, no lack of it at all.

Hesitating, you finally walked back up the steps and sat beside him.

It was quiet out, peaceful, despite the ambiance of the saloon.

You thought of what to say, of what his life would be like with the gang, with the O’Driscolls. You may ride with them but you didn't think them good. But that's why you rode with them, you weren't neither.

With a light shake on his shoulder, he jolted up, which took you by slight surprise as well.

He fixed his hat quickly and shakes himself out of his drowsy state. "You see? I waited!"

"So is evident." You couldn't help but smile at his excitement, but still the guilt ate at you. "I'll let you ride with me for a bit, but then, we are finding you a proper place of employment."

"You mean it, really?" He questions, his face serious but excited.

"I do." You got up, returning to your horse, the Clarke boy scrambling up behind you. "But only for a bit, you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!" He stands to a salute instantly, demonstrating his understanding.

You unraveled your horses reins, rubbing her face lovingly before she kindly snorted all over you. Thanking her sarcastically, you looked over to the boy who still stood with proper posture.

Giving him a look, he questioned you back, unsure of what you were getting at.

"Your horse, boy, where's that at?"

He considered you for a moment, standing perfectly still before looking beside you and pointing at one of the critters tied up by the saloon.

Now you both stood there staring at eachother. Him, an innocent, mindless stare, and you, one that saw right passed it.

"So, you don't have one yet."

"Is there really any harm in taking from the bastards here?" He reasons, taking a stroll over there to examine his choices. "I'll take one who's ill-taken care of. It'll be like a good deed, no?"

"I aint got much of a problem with it, I suppose. Just don't get caught."

After you mounted, he had chosen his steed. A deep bay, not much bigger than your average quarter horse. A stallion, as it looked to be, was ribby and a bit weak looking. Under fed at best.

"You sure?" You affirmed, examining the horse and the Clarke boy.

"I'm sure. I like this one." He jumps on quickly, scanning behind him making sure the owner wasn't happening out of the bar.

"Right." You nod, kicking your horse into action, following the road out of Blackwater. "We got a long way to go."

You had heard rumors of another gang around these parts as of recent. Van Der Linde's gang. You knew of them, but hadn't run into them as of yet, and planned on keeping it that way. Especially now that you had this boy to keep alive.

Colm had always wanted you off anything that could potentially involve them. You were valuable with what you could perform and Colm wanted you to have no dealings with them.

"Where you takin' us?" The Clarke boy questions, no undertone of worry in his voice at the fact that he was leaving with a stranger. An outlaw at that.

"South." You relay after checking your small, brass compass. "Seein' a buddy of mine."

His new horse seemed to be having a bit of fit, perhaps due to the fact it was unsure of who was now on his back. The young boy seemingly more than capable to handle the tantrum.

His hands remained loose on the reins, patting the stallions neck, soothing him best he could.

Atleast the he had a handle on horses, you weren't sure about what else he had for skills, but you were sure to find out in time.

"Who's the buddy?" He questions, he wasn't afriad of asking too many questions.

You gave him a thoughtful look before deciding wether to tell him or not, though seeing as he would be meeting him soon enough, you let it be known. "Frank Heck."

"Frank Heck!" He repeats in a loud burst, completely focused in on you now. "You know the Frank Heck? The gunslinger?"

It was this particular reaction that had you afore contemplating. "I suppose so."

"How'd- how? You actually know him? The gunslinger Frank Heck!"

You sighed out deeply, leaving your reins loose to run your hands through your hair. You definitely were to have a case of hat head, bad at that.

"I mean!" He's positively gobsmacked. "I read stories about him, he's famous!"

"Why, yes he is. He's somethin'."

"I get to meet him? Really?"

"You do. Don't worry." You were tired, and unable to understand how he had so much energy at such a late time in the night.

You just needed to find a place that was safe enough for the both of you till morning.

-----

It didn't take long for you to realize that, your drowsy state from last night had your judgment lacking. Heavily.

You didn't have nearly enough supplies to get you to New Austin with the Clarke boy in tow.

It was enough to get you by - barely, but you'd both be sun baked human jerkies before getting all the way to Armadillo.

The sun just barely greeted the land around as you sat with the company of the crackling fire you had just revived.

Your horses snorted every so often, grazing on what little half dead grass there was around the edges of the plains. Your horse and Clarke's new ride got along well, which made things a bit better.

That boy was still sleeping soundly, on what looks to be rather uncomfortable. A saddle and dirt, but he made do. His mouth wide open, drooling on his saddle.

So far, you didn't mind the company, albeit the company did have quite a lot to say.

Mousing away from Colm and the rest of your gang was something you liked to indulge in as often as possible. Colm didn't like it so much at first, but eventually came to allow it once you did for him decent work.

Now on your mind was Frank. What has he been up to during the time you'd been away from eachother?

When you'd met him, you saw him as nothing more than the typical law hating gunslinger who dressed well enough to be gawked over. One who gambled with more than just money.

And now he offered you a way to spend your time that wasn't either traversing alone or traversing with O'Driscoll's.

While some of the men, like Cormac, were decent enough company, you didn't actively prefer their company.

Frank interested you and you, him.

When you had left, you mentioned you had business to attend to in Armadillo. He found himself relating, mentioning that he'd wait for you there.

You weren't entirely sure what would compell him to stay in a town like that, with the lives there being amongst the lowest you could come across.

Criminals of all kinds crawled about the place like fire ants to a hive, their presence easily detected by the pandemonium they caused. The Del Lobos also made their appearance quite often, the stars of the show. The scarlet fever outbreak helped none either.

"Aghh." Groaned the sleepy Clarke boy from behind you, effectively spooking you out of your thoughts.

He started coughing and spitting quite suddenly, for whatever reason for, was beyond you.

"Damn bug in my mouth!" Wiping his tongue off throughly.

"Put that in there for breakfast" You teased, pushing yourself up from the ground. "Figured you were hungry by the way your mouth was hangin' open."

"Did you really?" He gasps, staring down at the grasshopper who'd trespassed, crippled on the ground, twitching.

"I told you. Gang life isn't what you expected."

"You feed eachother grasshoppers whilst asleep?"

Teasing the boy was certainly something fun to do.

"It's how we care for eachother when food is sparse."

He watched you closely, trying to glean any deception on your face. "You're fibbin', I aint never read that in any of my books."

"Well, your first mistake is trusting those silly books. You usher him up with a gesture, to which he promptly obeys. "Your second is trusting a stranger."

"So you were fibbin'!"

"I might actually next time."

"I needn't that, Miss, dont worry." He was quick to relieve you of any such duties. "Hey, wait.."

You gave him a glance of acknowledgement, then continued packing your horse.

"What is your name anyway? You never did tell me." His curious nature reminded both yourself and him, that you'd never given him your name.

"Y/n L/n. You ain't oughta keep callin' me Miss, though." You answered, mounting your horse, now just waiting for Clarke.

"Payin' respect where respects due, Miss y/n." Nathaniel explained, "you were kind to me and took me in."

He watched the floor as he spoke, a long on him you couldn't quite place.

"Get on your horse, Clarke. I'm gonna tell you a story."

His was quick for his horse once you told him that. By the recollection of his books, stories were something that interested him.

"I'm all ears!" He chirps, his stallion quick to be by your horses side.

You click your horse forward to resume the direction you'd been traveling the night previous. "When I was younger, I wasn't so dissimilar to you. A bit older perhaps when I met someone who took me in."

He listened in intently, almost leaning out of his saddle for the rest that was to come.

"He was kind, at times, he gave me what I needed, clothed me, fed me... I'm here now because of it. But as it were, the man he seemed to be, was only ever temporary." Your speech drawed out at times as you recounted the earlier days of being with Colm O'Driscoll.

"I can't say he changed - that's who he always was. When I realized, I had already done myself in." You left the details bleak, the story flesh gapped, you didn't find yourself enjoying the retelling. "He did various things to me I wasn't fond of, but I did whats needed, and now I get off lightly at times. Like now."

"You can't just leave?" Nathaniel whispers, his voice at a lowest record volume.

"I try. Only ever temporary." You did your utmost to drive the point home that gang life was truly not something to be actively searching out for. "I do what I do for that gang, I have no choice, and I ain't want you nailed to the same chain."

He seemed to have a bit more understanding now, fiddling with his stallions hair as he pondered the words of warning.

You gave him his time to contemplate, shaking off the rest of the memories and regret that left your conscience heavy.

"Then what else is there for me to do? To live for?"

It hit you like a stream train. You quite honestly had nothing to say for a minute.

"My ma was a waitress, my pa, a retired Sheriff. They did their best with what we had but.." he hesitates, peering off into the cactus covered horizon. "It didn't last. So I had to figure something else out. Just, I don't know what now."

"You think bein' an outlaw is the only way?" You were light with any judgement.

"I think it'd give me something to do. I can get money, go west. That's where everyone keeps talkin' bout anyway."

The west. The golden west. That was the land of opportunity. A better path for the boy, no doubt, but the way he desired to aquire it, wasn't right.

"Keep yourself straight, kid. It wouldn't give you anything worth while to do."

---

Nathaniel was perfectly described as near ghastly, the time under the sun certainly showing it's toll on him now.

Just in the distance was the dim lights of Armadillo. It was comforting, in the sense that there was to be some sort of food and water. But the company on the other hand...

His eyes were shut, leaning back in his saddle, blind trust in both you and your horse. You gave him a pat on the shoulder, alerting him to the sight ahead.

"We're 'bout near our destination. You are aware of Armadillos reputation, right?"

"I read about it in the newspapers. It sounds exciting." Nathaniel announced proudly, as if this place was a party.

"Exciting?" You fret, unsure of just what exactly these books he'd been reading had been telling him. "Just stay close to me, and don't speak to anyone. I mean it."

"Whatever you say, Miss y/n. I swear to you."

Upon your arrival in town, the place wasn't nearly as quiet as Blackwater. Some occasional yelling, people of many various bearings spread about the desolate town.

You eyed Nathaniel, making sure he stayed close. Constantly scanning for anything that'd bring either of you harm, but also for a Frank.

"I'm so hungry.." He grumbles, rubbing his stomach as you dismounted and tied your horses.

"Me too, my boy, me too." You agree, your spurs jingling as you stepped up the stairs. "This place has food, but dont get too roused."

"You'll get me something?" He swiftly stomped up the stairs behind you and into the saloon to keep close.

"Well, seeing as you didn't like breakfast."

He snorts out a little snicker, taking a seat at the bar next to you. You could tell he was uncomfortable, his initial impression of the place hadn't come 'round like he wished.

The people of Armadillo gave you lot stares. The two of you sticking out particularly sorely.

You let him pick out what he wanted from the very sparse choices the bartender offered, ordering after him yourself a drink.

"Whats that stuff taste like anyway?" Nathaniel wondered aloud, his face getting much too close to your glass than it should be.

You flicked his hat up, having him scramble to keep it from flying off. "Like something you shouldn't be drinking-"

Two men interrupted your banter, Nathaniel's staunch attention now directed towards them.

"Hey, little lady." The man, rugged as a bear, leaning against the counter, stared a burning hole through you.

"She got a little boy here." Scoffs evily his partner, sure to add the observation.

"You aint from here, are you, amiga?" His voice heavy with a Spanish accent. You knew exactly what occupation he held by the gun belts adorning his chest.

You stayed quiet, observing him intently. You didn't want any trouble, especially not with Nathaniel in tow. He was thankfully keeping your rule in mind.

Their chuckles were sinister and breathy as they surveyed you and Nathaniel. They weren't out to make friends, hopefully not to kill either, but to intimidate.

The first Del Lobo raised his hand to touch your green scarf. Rubbing it between his fingers as he inspected it.

You'd forgotten to take the damn thing off, preoccupied with watching over Nathaniel.

His eyes met with yours as he stood over you menacingly, raising your chin up with his dirt smudged finger.

"Hey!" Nathaniel barks out his opposition, coming to a stand, his hand now resting on his revolver. "Don't you be touchin' her."

You sat him right back down, the two men reveling with the reaction they could get out of him.

"Keep your boy in check, eh? 'Fore he gets himself hurt." Hummed the first man, a sickly satisfied look in his dark eye. "You're an O’Driscoll, we dealt with ya before."

"Sure you understand we aint like visitors." Crowed the next, shorter and skinnier, yet just about as threatening.

"Why, surely that's not who I believe it to be." Came yet another voice, one soothing, a familiar silvery voice.

His hands laid themselves on your shoulders, a scent you could pick out anywhere quickly filling your nose. "My darlin', y/n!"

There was Frank. A sweet talker at times.

Nathaniel's eyes lit up as he saw the, well, in book terms, a legendary gunslinger, acting particularly comfy with you and nonetheless aloof as described in the texts. His whole body siezed with the whole situation, overwhelmed and not sure what he was to do with himself.

"Hello Frank," you greeted warmly, side eyeing the two men who seemed slighted by the abrupt arrival of this man. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd ever see you." You turn to embrace the man you thought of ever so fondly since you'd met him.

"Oh, I'd never mean to keep you waiting." he promptly apologized, "Now, what is it we arrange for you mannerly individuals?"