#'But they will decide to cut you out' 'They'll talk behind your back' can you. Shut up

[ochrearia]

Euugghhhh

[sp0o0kylights]

Sometimes I think of a Steve Harrington that is absolutely exhausted by all the horror and bullshit and trying to keep the kids alive through said horror and bullshit, who watches Eddie rock up to him at the beginning of S4 with a dead eyed, flat stare.

"Steeeeve Harrington." Eddie taunts and peacocks and twirls around him, and all Steve wanted was for a couple months to process the trauma, maybe feel safe enough to start thinking about the future instead of stuck in a never ending anxiety loop of what might happen to Dumbass Near-Deatherson, should Steve go to college or move out of Hawkins (bc all the bad nicknames in the world won't erase the fact that Dustin's family, now. They're all family. And when they need help, they go to Steve.) and now he's suffering the unjust ordeal of being haunted by the high school drug dealer.

"His highness has come down from his castle!" Munson will crow, making a show out of Steve picking up the kids like this is a great battle of wits, a scoreboard between them and not like Steve is half dead on his feet, head aching, dreams full of too many teeth. "Quickly hide behind me, he'll try to cut off your heads!"

"Wouldn't he just cut yours off too?" Lucas asked, though the tone was slightly timid, Sinclair unsure if his joke would be well recieved.

(Steve doesn't care if the kid outright insults him. He still recalls the junkyard, the fight with Billy, the blood staining the kid's headband. Lucas lived, therefore, he can be a shit if wants.)

"Mine? Oh, the King wouldn't dare." Munson tosses his head, full of cartoon energy, too big for his body and grin both. "Many have tried you see, but no one had ever succeeded!"

Steve, equally, does not give a single shit that Eddie Munson has decided to play these games with him--until he realizes he's maybe been a little too exhausted and depressed and morose around the kids.

Watches them getting worried over him, whispering urgently and making dramatic gestures and talking to Robin and suddenly, playing a little tug of war over them the way Munson seems to want feels like a good idea. A way to hide all the rough edges, a way to be fine so they can be fine.

"How about you guys skip the dork brigade tonight," Steve taunts back the next time they're all together, standing like the man he used to be, wearing a dead personality. "And we go do something actually fun instead?"

Eddie laughs, lights up, is all too happy to match him tit for tat, and it's so easy to fake this kind of interaction, rolling his eyes and snapping his gum. Steve could match this energy in his sleep, and never once does Munson catch on that Steve's not doing this for him.

That he's not even looking at him half the time, eyes askew, locked on the kids. Seeing them relax as he banters, seeing Dustin glow as he returns to his favorite position, being the center of attention.

So long as they think he's okay, Steve will be okay. If that means putting up with Munson, then so be it.

Its not like he'll catch on.

Eddie doesnt.

(Or rather, he does--but Its months and several deaths later, when they're in the RV, chasing what feels like literal demons, does it dawn on Eddie what Steve is doing.

Has been doing, the whole time.

Steve, sassy, ridiculous, jock- brained Steve makes the mistake of doing it again, using the same trick he had on the kids to convince them he was fine on Eddie. To further convince Eddie that they were fine as a group.

That they'll survive, they'll figure it out, they'll make it.

Loudly bantering with dead eyes, smiling with a mouth robotically locked in. Jokes on jokes on jokes and all of them making the kids take their minds off VecnaHenryOne to screech ineffectively at their babysitter. Winks tossed to the girls, who both roll their eyed at him. A sly look given to Eddie, to include him.

Its then, that Eddie decides to cement his life with Steve's. Because this loyal bastard of a paladin is too good hearted to die, too protective to not try it anyway. The idiot is cutting himself to ribbons to tie them all together and Eddie can't undo the damage but he can grab all the pieces he can, loop them together.

He can make those dead eyes light up again.

And he does.

This time when things are over Steve finds himself unable to pull those little tricks of his. Every time he slides the mask over his face Eddie rips it right back off again.

They fight, a lot, until they start kissing instead and for a while that also, somehow, feels like fighting but Eddie's real good at this. The emotional part, not so much the kissing, but he knows how to draw Steve out. How to break down walls, and annoying his real personality out.

The kissing was just an odd little side benefit.

A thing they don't talk about.

There's a benefit to it, one he doesn't look very hard into, until strangely, one day, Eddie wakes with Steve's head pillowed on his shoulder and comes to the abrupt conclusion that he's screwed.

Or so he thinks--until bright, loving eyes blink awake, and turn on him, and Eddie realizes just how long it's been since they looked dead.

He wonders, vaguely, how long it'll take for Steve to catch on, that this just got serious.

Will laugh at himself when he learns that Steve already knew.

Guess that's what he gets for finally paying attention.)

[yes-sirr]

black and blue bruises

i keep imagining reader having over protective brothers who learn that their baby sister is dating an older man and they decide that he needs to be taught a lesson for taking "advantage" of her. (they jump him 😭,, dont worry he fights back!)

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wc: 828

cw: age gap (reader is in her mid 20s, hotch is in his mid 40s), violence implied

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inspired by seeing hotch in s4ep1 all bloodied

you get a text early in the day from your brothers in your siblings group chat about how they know what who you have been doing and that they'll take care of it (!!!! ????) you don't actually see the message until its far too late and so you decide that you'll deal with your brothers later. now fully panicking, you call aaron's phone (with no response... smh) and drop everything to head to his place.

you let yourself in with your key and frantically look around for him in different rooms, finally finding aaron in his bathroom using a first aid kit to clean up his cuts and bruises. rushing over to him, your heart breaks seeing your man bleeding all over his bathroom sink.

you feel the rage swelling up in your body thinking about how this is the most moronic thing your brutish brothers have ever done. "oh my god. i can't believe they did this to you. i am actually going to kill them." you take over for aaron and start wiping away the blood from his brow, rougher than you intend to. he sucks in and winces under the pressure and you pull back slightly whispering a quiet "sorry" before continuing your motions, gentler this time around.

"This is not exactly how I imagined meeting your family would be like," he says pulling you in between him and the sink, "but I guess this was just the first meeting with the welcoming committee."

a wicked smile gradually lays hold over his face as you stop your ministrations to study his expression. you narrow your eyes trying to read what is behind his mischievous look. "what did you do?" you ask, resting your hands against his chest.

"Well, they got their first hit." he turns his head to show his eye, quickly turning blue. "Which they only got because they took me by surprise. But they didn't get a chance to land a second one," his sly smile now breaking out into a full on grin.

puzzled, you tilt your head trying to understand what he means. you inspect the bruises on his fists and after seeing no actual cuts or scrapes, you realize that besides the black eye, none of the blood on him is actually his. now wising up to the actual facts of the situation, you shake your head with a breathless chuckle. "of course! and then what was the rest of this meeting like?" you lean your forehead against his chest and let out a heavy sigh, his hands rubbing calming circles on your back.

shrugging his shoulders, he goes on to explain, "I gave them the opportunity for us to talk like gentlemen. I attempted to explain to them that I love you and won't do anything to ever hurt you." he scrunches his nose to add, "But I think that just made them more upset."

feeling calmer now, you speak into the chest of the very gracious man before you, "baby, i am so SORRY for my brothers who are imbeciles with no home training." you look at him to vocalize the rest, "i will make sure they apologize to you even if I have to drag them to do it."

he leans down to give you soft and reassuring kiss. "Sweetheart, you don't have to apologize for them. I am sure that your brothers and I have come to an understanding. We should be all set to meet the rest of your family with no trouble."

pressing your forehead against his, you give him a faint smile and close your eyes. "they're actually so thickheaded. i'm not even that much younger than them to be considered their baby sister. it's just i'm the youngest of all my siblings. they've got it stuck in their head that they need to defend my honor," you drag out the last few words.

"I can appreciate what they were trying to do for you, sweetheart. It may have been the wrong approach but it's endearing that they care?" he asks sympathetically. "Can I assume they've done this before?"

your eyes shoot wide open as you snort. "no boy even got the chance to look at me in high school because of their reputation. i just can't believe they would do this as adults. but they're clearly still children."

"It's going to take a lot more to scare me away," he reassures you. "Especially, since I have no plan to ever let you go now that I've got you," he says as he brings your left hand up to press a tender kiss against your ring finger.

you watch him with a sparkle in your eye and flash him a bright smile. your face immediately drops as you groan, "they did all this and they think you're just my boyfriend."

"Now that I know who I am dealing with," he smirks at you, "we can tell them together that I am in fact your fiancé."

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 35. concert (half-written)

a/n: alt title: y/n having her y/n moment

you watch as everyone is admitted one by one from behind the door, peeking out so you don't cause too much ruckus. some find seats while others trade their ticket in for a beverage, and others chat amongst one another.

the beat against your chest gets more drastic as soon as the last pair are inside. you watch the two head to the upstairs seating before going back behind the door and taking a deep breath.

after a few minutes the chatter starts to settle down. everyone is comfy with their beverages and situated, which means it's time for the performance to start.

a staff member gets on stage and checks the microphone, then the guitar before she speaks toward the crowd, capturing their attention.

"hello everyone! good evening. the show will start soon, thank you for your compliance! enjoy!"

a wave of cheers and applaud roars throughout the cafe, overwhelming you just a bit. you still can't believe it, there's a whole crowd for you out there.

the staff member, jia, comes backstage and gives you a comforting smile. you've gotten to know her briefly and she's the sweetest person you know. she's supportive of your work and had been understanding as she helped you adjust and get to know the label, as well as their building.

"everything is ready." jia says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "are you?"

"y-yeah." you mumble. she pulls you in suddenly for a hug, rubbing your back softly.

"they'll love you, promise. fighting!" she cheers, putting a fist up.

you chuckle. "fighting!"

she pats you on the back once more before pushing you out there. you take a deep breath before stepping out, the murmuring simmering down and erupting into cheers. you smile as the lights around dim everywhere except the ones above you, emphasizing your moment.

you grab your electric guitar, putting the strap over so it can sit on your neck before you step closer to the microphone. you tap once, then twice, and finally a third time before speaking into it.

"hello?" you say quizically, unsure if you're unlucky enough to start your first show off with a mic that decides to cut off when it's your time to shine. "ah, it's working. hi everyone!"

there's another set of cheers, much louder than before, you might add.

"wow, oh my gosh, haha, you guys are so full of energy this is so cool." your nerves ease slightly and a giggle escapes when you hear someone calling you cute. "right. wow, this is so crazy—me being up here and all. thank you so much for being here. I'm beyond grateful for your support, and... honestly, I almost cried backstage before coming out here." that earns a ripple of laughter and a few heartfelt "awww's" from the audience.

someone shouts, "we love you!" and you can't help but laugh, the warmth of their support beginning to melt your anxiety.

"right. i'm starting off with my first song: i don’t wanna be okay without you. it originally was a small project that i uploaded on youtube after a very... eventful night." you start, strumming the first chords of the song. "i was so emotional so i sat down, sang, uploaded it, and fell asleep to push away what i felt. i woke up to a ton of notifications and my life changed significantly after that. this song will always be one of my favorites. okay, I'll stop talking now." you joke.

you strum again, the chords echoing through the room. you close your eyes for a moment, letting the familiarity of the song center you before you start singing. your voice is soft but steady, and as the melody builds, so does your confidence. people are swaying in their chairs, some mouthing the words. a group near the table holds up their phones to record, their faces flowing with excitement.

when the final note fades, the applause is immediate and enthusiastic. you're met with a wave of relief and pride that almost knocks you over. "thank you," you say into the mic, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. "wow, okay. this all just got really real. wow, thank you so much."

the crowd "awww's" at your words and really just you in general, making you giggle. and then you take a moment to sip some water, glancing around the room, soaking in the faces turned toward you.

"this next song is called letter—" you're interrupted briefly by cheers and claps. you smile widely before continuing, "I also wrote this after going through, well, a lot. but this was a little later down the line." you admit nervously, fiddling with the mic stand. "it's kind of surreal to be here now. I've already said this, but things have flipped so much then. everything in my life has just been great and I'm just beyond grateful." you pause, feeling a teasing grin spread across your face. "these first two songs—and not the last—are kind of inspired by someone who, uh, did me dirty. that's all I can say. as much as I hate them, I'm not that petty.”

the crowd bursts into laughter and a few cheers. "spill!" someone shouts, making you laugh even harder.

"i don't know," you reply cheekily, "i think the songs say a good amount of it all."

letter has a slower, more brooding start, and as you sing, the room quiets down to let your voice take over. the raw emotion of the song seems to resonate with the crowd, and for a moment, it feels like it's just you, your guitar, and the song.

as the song ends, you're met with another round of applause, louder this time, and a few whistles that make your face flush. "thank you so much," you say, your voice more confident now. "okay, now that I've gotten through those two, let's have some fun."

the next part of your set transitions into covers, and the energy in the room shifts. "alright," you say with a grin, "I had some songs I wanted to cover, so I hope you all will enjoy. I've covered some of these before and a lot of people seemed to like it."

the room comes alive with the first notes, immediately catching on to the melody. best part by daniel caesar is recognizable two notes in, so the cheers and expressions of surprise that follow make you giggle.

people start singing along softly and it suddenly feels less like a concert in the best way possible. you, your fans, and the thing you love most: music. the harmony fills the cafe and so do flashlights on phones that sway from side to side. it really feels like you're sharing the moment with everyone and not just performing.

you keep the energy mellow with i fall in love too easily by chet baker, letting the soft jazz tones melt into the warm air. then, you pick up the pace slightly with easy by mac ayres and isn’t she lovely by stevie wonder. the audience sways to the rhythm, some people tapping their feet against the floor. every now and then, you catch someone's eye in the crowd and share a quick smile, feeling the connection deepen.

the cafe feels like a living room with how relaxed and carefree everyone is. it's like all the worries from outside have been left at the door and you're all just basking in the music. you laugh as the crowd sings along to the chorus’s, their voices blending with yours in a way that feels effortless and beautiful.

between songs, you chat casually with the audience. "you all sound amazing, by the way." you say, and the room bursts into cheers again. "seriously, I mean, maybe I should get off stage and let one of you sub in, that alright?" you ask, earning a wave of laughs.

it's comforting and refreshing to see how much fun everyone is having, and it fuels your energy as you get ready to finish the last cover you planned out. you take another sip of water and glance at the clock on the back wall, not ready for the night to end just yet.

"right, okay. i had two songs planned, which are both originals. I've posted one on youtube, but the other has been hiding in my notes app and voice memos for maybe a month now." you say, strumming a chord. "we'll start off with evergreen." and as soon as you say it there's a few cheers. you grin, strumming the next chord. "this is also heavily inspired by the same person I mentioned earlier. don't let someone make you feel worthless, not when you're worth so much." you add, earning a few chuckles and sympathetic looks from the crowd.

you pause, letting the melody settle over the room before you start singing. the reaction is instant—murmurs of recognition ripple through the audience, and a few people shout out excitedly.

your voice is steady, but there's a rawness in it that makes the words hit differently in this live setting as if the crowd knows the reason for making this song.

the song flows without effort, but as you reach the chorus, a wave of emotion washes over you. this isn't just a song anymore; it's a shared moment, one that feels like you're peeling back layers of yourself for everyone to see. the crowd sways, a few people even holding up their phones to capture the performance. by the time you finish, the applause is deafening, and you can't help but grin bashfully under all the attention.

"thank you," you say, voice wavering just a bit. "that song means a lot to me, so hearing you all react like that... it's everything." you take a deep breath, fingers brushing nervously over the strings of your guitar. "now, this next one... I've never played it live before. it's called clementine, and, uh, I guess you could say it's still learning how to walk, haha. it's also a piece of my heart, and I want you all to hear it first before it gets released... well, who knows when. "

the room falls into a heavy silence as you start to strum—it almost feels sacred. you start softly, the notes delicate and deliberate, and your voice follows, carrying the weight of the lyrics. as the song is sung, you can feel the emotion in the room shifting—some people are wiping at their eyes while others are just watching you with complete captivating spread on their features.

by the time you reach the final verse, your own voice falters slightly, thick with emotion. you close your eyes, letting the last few notes linger in the air before they fade into the quiet. for a moment, the room stays still, as if everyone is holding their breath, and then the applause erupts. it's not just loud—it's heartfelt, full of appreciation and love that makes your chest tighten.

you set your guitar down carefully, bringing the mic closer. "wow," you breathe out, breath shaky as tears prick at your eyes. "I don't want this to end. this night has been... it's been everything I hoped for and more." you pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "but I promise this is just the beginning, thanks to my label wavy. there will be a next time, and it's going to be even better and bigger."

the crowd cheers, and you can't stop yourself from laughing softly. "oh, and one last thing before I go," you add, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm working on something special! a debut album! a few songs including the two I have just performed."

the reaction is instant—a wave of excited chatter and applause that makes you smile wider, your heart full and light.

" i wasn't gonna say anything but... well, you've seen my twitter. i can't keep secrets, can I?" even through the overwhelming emotion, everyone laughs including you. "thank you so, so much," you say, waving eagerly as the lights dim. "you've made tonight unforgettable. I'll see you all soon!"

as you exit, the applause follows you, the sound echoing in your ears like a promise. you can't stop smiling even as you step backstage, letting the emotions of the night finally catch up to you. this moment, you know, is one you'll carry on for the rest of your life.

—

as you pack your guitar and change into something comfier—a hoodie and sweatpants—jia knocks on the door. you fix your hair before yelling, "come in!"

the door opens and she steps inside, watching you set your guitar case on the table.

"did you need something? i'm almost ready, I just needed to fix myself up." you say to her.

she shakes her head, smiling almost mischievously. "it's alright, I'll help you with your things. there's a surprise out in the cafe, along with a beverage that the owner made. you might want to check it out."

"aw, the owner didn't have to. oh, and what surprise?"

"you'll see." jia says, tugging at your arm and pushing you out. "you've got your personal items and everything, we'll take care of the rest. have a good night y/n."

"thanks?" you chuckle, stepping out.

you head out and see a few employees wiping the tables down. thankfully, your fans weren't messy at all. they cleaned up after themselves and threw their cups away without asking. you really are lucky.

there's a hot chocolate waiting by the barista area with a beautiful heart design. you take a picture before reading the note beside it:

"congratulations! we are honored to have you here as our musical guest. we hope to have you here again soon :)

—gomdori cafe <3"

you smile at the little note, folding it neatly and placing it in your pocket before you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, your eyes widen immediately.

yunjin and hanni are standing there with big smiles gracing their faces, amusement flooding their features as your reaction deepens.

"nice performance!" yunjin beams before you tackle her into a hug, nearly cutting off her air supply.

"what the fuck are you doing here? i thought you were busy?" you say into her neck.

"even if i were, i'd drop anything to watch my best friends first concert. that was wonderful." yunjin mumbles, tightening her embrace.

"you're insane." you scoff, pulling away and pushing her shoulder teasingly. “is this what you were fucking posting about? oh my god, i should’ve known.”

then, you turn to hanni. just seeing her makes your heart swell. she's grinning still from the interaction between yunjin, then widening her eyes as you pull her in for a hug as well. it's sudden but just right.

hanni is a little smaller, so you kind of engulf her in your arms. but you're warm, smell good, and really cute, so she hugs you back with the same force. yunjin watches you two with a smirk, noticing the undertones of the moment.

"surprise." she says sweetly.

"i can't believe you came too." you shift your weight on both feet as you hug her. "thank you."

hanni pulls away and smiles, looking into your eyes and making you blush.

"i wouldn't miss this, i'm your biggest fan." she jokes.

yunjin laughs, shaking her head. "this was hanni's idea, actually."

"really?" you ask.

"yup. she texted me when you made the announcement. we both wanted to surprise you."

you sigh, shaking your head. "you guys are terrible. were you here the whole time?"

hanni nods. "mhm. heard all of your awkward reactions too."

"oh shut up." you groan.

"it was cute though." hanni says quieter than before, rolling her eyes at you. “and you did great, so don’t worry.”

yunjin catches the spark between you immediately, raising her brows at the sight but not commenting.

the three of you then head out, yunjin and hanni congratulate and compliment you (though not without teasing), and you are left the happiest you've ever been. this was definitely a night to remember: you, your fans, the music, and two of the people you care about.

a/n (2): a bit iffy about how this was written + the pacing but I hope u guys liked it, let me know...!

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[byunpum]

Hi! Can u do a short Drabble with auntie sully giving everyone pizza for the first time?

AVATAR MASTERLIST

Note: I invite you to read all the parts of my " Auntie Y/N Sully" series so you can understand more about the relationship and the characters.

"Mom, when are auntie y/n and daddy coming back? I'm bored" speaks tuk, complaining next to his mother. She always used to be by your side at this time, but it had already been many hours. "Relax, they'll be right back," says neytiri, cutting up some food for that day's dinner. "ruk'e why aren't you with dad and aunt y/n?" asks tuk, looking at his uncle. Ruk'e laughs out loud, holding his child in his arms. "Ah ah not my type to go and be investigating, looking for trouble" refuses ruk'e, and it was very true. Ruk'e was a pacifist, he preferred to be taking care of home, taking care of his children. In fact… ruk'e was the one who used to stay behind to take care of all the children while you did the routine inspections, near the metkayina clan. This time neytiri decided to stay home and help ruk'e, she had hurt her rib a little. Something she didn't like, she liked to go with you and Jake to the routines.

Some time later, you can hear the voice of y/n and jake approaching. Both were pure laughter, while the little tuk got up running as fast as she could towards you. "Y/n" yells tuk, hugging you tightly. The little girl had grown so much, she was already much bigger than you. But she was still your little girl. Behind her, your children and nephews followed. Hugging you and asking how you were doing, very excited. "Hey…I'm here too" says Jake. "So yeah…hi daddy" says neteyam, looking quickly at jake, then looking at you. Causing you to laugh. The ride had been smooth, everything seemed to be under control. You asked Eywa every day to keep everything going smoothly, for the sake of your family.

During the investigation, you came across an abandoned boat. A ship that contained a lot of material, such as weapons, monitions, medicine and military food. Military food that you liked. You had a bag full of it, sitting next to your partner. Putting the bag aside, to hold your baby in your arms. "My y/n…we miss you" you look over and take your baby to your chest. She was already 1 year old, and a beautiful half human and na'vi baby. "She has eaten too much today" ruk'e says, giving you a smile. Kissing the crown of your head. "I'm glad you're okay, babe" ruk'e says. Looking curiously at the bag you had next to you. " Hey and what's up with that?" asks your mate. This gets the attention of your sons and nephews. Spider and rotxo quickly approach, and try to open the bag. While your other nephews and nieces, sit down next to you. Right next to their mother and father.

"Oh? That bag has precious food in it" you joke, but you speak with a lot of excitement. Jake makes a disgusted face. He didn't understand what you saw in that processed food. "Precious…food" neytiri speaks, a part of her was offended. She used to cook for the whole family, and you always said how well she cooked. Now she too was curious about what was in that bag. You hand your baby to your mate, taking the bag in your lap. You open it to take out the small brown bag. On the label it said "pizza". "That bag…it's ugly," says lo'ak, watching as you give him a dirty look.

"Listen…this was my favorite food on the base. They used to give out fresh food, but at night, they'd give out these bags of food. And I used to go eat them with trudy, while we talked about the day" you pause, remembering your friend. "Is that human food?" asks kiri, taking one of the bags that was in the suitcase. "Yes…a disgusting one. I don't know how you ate that," says jake, sticking out his tongue in disgust. If there was one thing he hated, it was that military stored food. "Don't say that…pizza and Mexican rice are the best" you joke, watching as jake continued to cringe in disgust. While everyone looked on curiously.

"Want to try?" you ask, noticing how your nephews face lights up. "ahhh NO!" says jake, taking tuk, in the air as the girl giggled. "If they eat that they will die" jake speaks, as kiri throws the bag on the ground. "Don't listen to him…this food is fine. Here" and yes you were right, this food was about 6 years away from expiring. You start handing a bag to each child. "Mom…how many meals do you have?" asks spider, noticing that there were more in the bag. You laugh, listening to Jake sigh. "'She took all of them,' says Jake.

"Ok….follow in my footsteps" you start explaining everything. All the children of the family started to follow you, even ruk'e joined in. Jake and neytiri just watched the show, while holding their niece in their arms. You open the package, and begin to take out the tortilla, the red sauce packet. The small package of mozzarella cheese and the pepperoni. The kids copy your every step, amazed by everything they were seeing. "Well, first they are going to take the dough, then carefully open the sauce packet" you speak, while you break the plastic with your mouth. "And after we put the sauce we put the cheese and then the pepperoni" you speak. Ruk'e laughs a little, while watching you prepare that strange food. You looked so excited and cute.

"And then you're going to throw that thing away" jake says, trying to take the pizza away from kiri. But you reach over and smack him upside the head. "Nooo, now they eat it" you take a bite out of it. Your nephews and sons hesitate for a moment, but take a small bite. Not like the pizza was big for them. Chewing and savoring the strange food for a bit. "mmm doesn't taste bad, but no…." Neteyam hesitates for a bit, and jake chuckles giving him a slap on his son's shoulder. "Are you serious? It's really good" says rotxo, while spider supported him with a mouthful of food.

The other kids only tried the pizza, so you ended up eating all of them. The more you ate, the more Jake got worried. "Sis…I know you love that disgusting stuff, but it's not good for you to eat so much," says Jake. You just roll your eyes, sometimes he could be a little over the top with you.

After a while, the whole family was getting along normally. But you were starting to get a lot of stomach aches. Complaining about the pain. "ma y/n…are you ok?" asks ruk'e, he had noticed how you were leaning more on him. "I'm fine…. is just aughh" you complain, touching your stomach. "Ja tell you so!" says jake, as the scared look on tuk'e's face began to draw. " Auntie y/n is going to die!!!" yells tuk. "I'm not going to die" you try to calm the little girl down. Ruk'e gets up from the floor, sighing in frustration. "Well, family see you later, I have to make some tea" speaks the man, as he helps you off the ground.

Behind his parents, were spider and rotxo who was carrying his little sister. "Let me know if you need anything" shouts neytiri from far away. Seeing how you were walking with difficulty due to stomach pain. "See I told you, that food is disgusting" speaks Jake. Neytiri laughs a little, she was sure it wasn't the food, but the amount you had eaten that caused your stomach pain.

Jake and the children went off to do other things, leaving Neytiri alone for a moment. She was going to go check on you, and help ruk'e. But before she got up, she noticed that there was a piece of pizza left over. Taking it for a moment and looking at it. She was going to try that strange food, she wanted to know why you liked this so much, even more than her food. Neytiri took a small bite, as the flavors touched her taste glands. Her ears perked up, and her tail began to wag with excitement. Oh my eywa, this was delicious. On the other hand, jake turned to ask neytiri something, but saw how she was chewing the pizza. "Ahh no no spit that out" runs jake towards neytiri, watching as she stands up laughing while he starts chasing after her.

[actual-changeling]

I think in like. 90% of "they're handcuffed to each other" scenarios, they would not care. It would barely affect their work at all. They'd keep them on even once they have the key because this is the perfect 'for the love of God, do NOT get kidnapped again' insurance.

However.

There are those delicious 10% right in the middle of the Diana mess that would make for the most painful, angsty, hurt/comfort fic you can imagine. Arcadia, but turned up to 11.

This was not supposed to be anything resembling said fic and instead stay a shitpost—but here we are.

———

They're fighting over who gets to be in charge of movement immediately, and they do not stop . They keep tripping because they decide to suddenly walk in two different directions, and their wrists are chafed and bloody.

They keep going like that for a while until their lack of coordination and teamwork almost gets them killed, and then they're stuck hiding in a small, dark space, forced to TALK.

Imagine a janitor's closet or a small, windowless bathroom.

First, there's silence.

Then, one of them dares to say a word, and suddenly they're at each other's throats, going straight for the jugular.

Petty fighting turns into insults, which turn into months of pent-up emotions spilling out without any control over how, and they both say things they'll definitely regret later on.

Until it finally reaches a breaking point when Mulder—annoyed, frustrated, confused—cuts her off and says, "You're making it personal again, Scully."

Her mouth closes with an audible click, and she freezes before shuffling as far away from him as she possibly can. He realises he has fucked up. A lot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Oh, you meant it, Mulder; don't backpedal. You meant it now, and you meant it back then too."

"Scully—"

"Shut up."

She's exhausted. So fucking tired. You made me a whole person to get her to stay, and she'd believed him. Damn it all, she had believed him. Just for him to turn it into a lie and destroy her trust within seconds.

"What does it take? For this thing to come up and bite you on the ass? I saw these creatures. I saw them burst to life. You would've seen them, too, but you were infected with that virus. You were passed out over my shoulder."   "Mulder, I know what you did. I know what happened to me, but without ignoring the science, I can't… Listen, Mulder. You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it, I'd made you a whole person. If I change now… it wouldn't be right or honest."   "I'm talking about extraterrestrial life alive on this planet in our lifetime. Forces that dwarf and precede all human history. I'm sorry, Scully, but this time your science is wrong."

He had walked away from her without a second of hesitation, and she wishes she could walk away from him now.

Six years of loyalty and trust, and for what? To end up as the second-best, easily forgotten choice? To be wanted not for herself but as a placeholder, a substitute for someone else?

Forgiveness, over and over, without hesitation, and Mulder took it for granted. Of course, she will do what he wants. Even when he goes behind her back. Even when he tricks her into it. Even when he leaves her behind with barely a word. Even when she has no reason to do it except because it's him.

Because it's personal.

It has always been personal, but suddenly it's a fallacy she spun out of nothing and not the foundation of their partnership.

"I shouldn't have said that, Scully, i—"

I'm asking you to trust my judgment. To trust me.

"Mulder, shut. up."

He hadn't trusted her. She still trusts him and hates herself for it. What's the point of trusting someone when the reward is rejection and loneliness? When he stopped trusting her God knows how long ago?

The skin on her right wrist burns with abrasions, but she refuses to budge. Pain is sharp and honest, grounding and constant. She trusts pain more than she trusts him.

Time is hard to tell in the dark, it could be minutes or hours of waiting until she can feel his fingertips brush against her palm; she suppresses the urge to flinch. Mulder's touch is warm and light, not meant to ask but to offer, and her body betrays her mind and allows him to interlace their fingers.

God, she misses him. 

Underneath all that bubbling anger and lingering betrayal, she misses her partner. She misses him and the person she knows she can be with him—lighthearted, happy, alive. Contented hours of searching through files and writing reports have become a necessary sacrifice; suffocating spans of time she counts down by the minute.

It was never about the desk. It is not about Diana, not really. 

Maybe the darkness makes them both a bit braver, a bit softer around the edges, because she lets out a deep sigh and wills the tension to leave her muscles. If they keep going the way they have in recent weeks, they will break apart sooner rather than later, and she doesn't want to lose him, she never has. 

All she wants is to get her best friend back and to keep him for however long the world will allow. Not a clean slate or a new beginning, but a second chance for both of them. 

Caught between either extending an olive branch or ending up alone, it is easy to choose. Because it's personal, always has been, and always will be.

The pressure around her wrist disappears when she stops trying to keep her arm from him, and he hesitantly squeezes her hand—she slowly squeezes back.

"I'm sorry. for all of it. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I'm so, so sorry."

Scully pushes herself backward so she is leaning against him again, and when she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they're somewhere, anywhere else, and she's finally coming home.

"I know, Mulder. I know."

[simply-wlw-kpopstan]

29. The parents

Ryujin is right you should just ask her about it. it's been long enough to have this conversation right? Maybe you should just leave it and let jimin set the pace. she probably told them you're a friend anyways. You took a deep breath before walking out of the bedroom and joined the others in the kitchen.

"there you are! My parents are almost here and we still need to-" jimin was walking around like a mad man and winter was laughing at the scene while she sat on the counter eating something ning was preparing.

"jimin calm down before you freak the poor girl out." aeri said.

"right, sorry. Can you bring this outside?" jimin passed you a plate with some snacks, " Just place it on the table in front of the couch."

"I will if you remember to breath." you smiled making her let out a chuckle. "why are you so riled up? Are your parents that bad?"

"No, not at all. It's just been a long time since I introduced someone new and... It's nothing, forget about it." she shook her head and waved you off.

The five of you sat down once everything was set up, just staring out at the ocean in silence and jimin layed her head on your shoulder, "they'll love you. I don't know if that was what's bothering you this morning but they'll like you. I know they will."

You wanted to respond to her words but got cut off by a unknown female voice, "where are my girls?!"

"we're outside mrs. Yu !" aeri yelled and jumped up from her seat to go and greet jimin's parents.

"it'll be okay. I promise." jimin spoke softly before standing up and pulling you with her. The second you approached the door she let's go of your hand and creates some distance between the two of you.

"there's my baby!" her mother smiled with her arms wide open, " come here and let me look at you."

Winter, ning and aeri are holding back their laughter as jimin gets pulled in her mother's embrace. Your eyes drift to the man standing behind them and that's when you noticed him staring at you. Shit. What if her father hates you? If looks could kill, you'd probably be 6 feet under by now.

"you must be the new friend jimin told us about." his voice filled the room and everyone looks at you. Jimin pulls back from her mom and walks over to you.

"I'm y/n. It's very nice to meet you both." you try to hide the fact that you're feeling super anxious but judging by the looks of the girls you know you failed.

"forgive me for asking but how long have you known eachother? It's not like jimin to invite new people over." her mother spoke up.

Are they testing you? Or are they trying to tell you they don't want you here?

"actually we're project partners for one of our shared subjects." winter quickly intervened, " y/n's a music major like me. we've known eachother for a year but since the project we've gotten closer to eachother."

"I see." her mom said as she stared at you, "well let's go outside and get to know one another, I'm looking forward to your stories of this semester."

After an hour of talking, eating the snacks and secret glances with jimin, you decided to clear the table of the empty plates. "can I get anyone anything?" you offered but everybody shook their head and thanked you.

As soon as you're out of sight you took a deep breath and relaxed. Jimin's parents were nice people and you shouldn't be this anxious but the fact that you're keeping a secret from them is eating at you. Would they still like you if they found out you've been seeing their daughter? What if they found out Parker hit her because she was sleeping with you? That would definitely make them like you less-

”Hey,” jimin’s voice startled you as you rinsed off a plate, luckily it didn't break when it hit the sink, "sorry. Are you okay? You seem... I don't know, you're not your usual self. "

"I’m okay," you gave her a tiny smile, "I think I'm just tired. The effect of worrying about meeting your parents are probably kicking in and stuff" it slipped out before you noticed.

"so you were worried about that." she muttered to herself, "I guess we've both been stressed today." She looked behind her before walking closer and hugging you from behind.

"is this a good idea? Your parents can walk in any second." you looked at her as she layed her head on your shoulder.

"there's nothing wrong with hugging a friend," she turns you around and pins you against the counter, "it's a whole different thing if they'd walk in on us kissing." her gaze falls to your lips for a few seconds.

"jimin don't." you carefully pushed her away, "what will happen if they were to walk in? What would you tell them?" you crossed your arms and leaned back against the counter.

"they didn't. Why are you acting like this?"

"nevermind, you should go back. I'm going to lay down for a little while" you try to walk past her but she quickly grabs your hand.

"You're just going to avoid this?"

"they're your parents jimin, they're here for you and the girls."you pull your hand out of her grip and leave her in the kitchen.

masterlist | next

[arlerts-angel]

hey!! i wanted to request sum, so here it goes!:

armin was always showing off his pretty gf to his friends, but once they started hitting on her, he decided to show them who actually she belonged to!! 🤭🤭

a/n: ugh i live for jealous armin 🤭🩷 he's lowkey mean in this and much more dominant than i imagine he'd be but it was fun to write so ENJOY 🫶 smooches 😚

edit: not me forgetting tags 🥴 if you saw this w/o tags no you didn't 👍

cw: soft dom!armin x fem!reader, established relationship, dubcon? (no verbal consent is given but written with implied consent) briefly jerking off, oral sex (m!receiving), penetrative sex (piv), orgasm denial (reader), pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), breeding kink if you squint

taglist: @callm3senpaii @arlertwitch @arlertdarling @dilfkentolover @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @ringsofsaturnnnn @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @daddydynamight @millennialmagicalgirl @tomuraslut @hannas16 @la-undercover-latina

armin tends to keep a pretty level-head on his shoulders.

he's aware of how pretty his girl is, and he's very proud that the eye candy he walks down the street with is his. nothing makes him feel bigger than going out with you and watching the eyes of strangers follow your swaying hips with each step you take while you walk next to him, hands interlocked. there's only one thing that can get into his head, though.

his friends.

that's why you still haven't met his friends after this long. armin knows his friends are more conventionally attractive than he is, and he knows they'll be all over you the minute they catch a glimpse.

and that's exactly what happened the first time they met you.

eren couldn't keep his eyes off you. he may as well have been foaming at the mouth as he watched your tits bounce with every move you made. jean kept asking you question after question just to hear you talk and to watch the way your lips moved when you spoke. you didn't think much of it, but your poor boyfriend was seething internally.

armin couldn't quite understand what this visceral reaction was. the thought of his girl taking his friends' cocks infuriated him... so why was he getting hard? armin pulled you to the side.

"you like their attention, angel? you know they wanna fuck you, right?" he whispers in your ear. "armin–!" you laugh and roll your eyes playfully. "do you want them to fuck you?" he asks. you scoff and shake your head. "i asked you a question, angel." he coos, lifting your chin to look at him.

"armin–" you start, but are quickly cut off by him dragging you to the bathroom. "look at how hard my cock is, princess." he growls as he unbuttons his pants. "the thought of my friends fucking you made me so mad it made my dick hard." he freed his erection from his tight pants. your pussy is as wet as his dick is hard, panties are no good at this point.

"you're mine, angel. they don't get to have you." he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear lovingly and strokes his cock with his free hand. "i need your help, pretty girl." he smiles devilishly. you get on your knees and take his cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down earning the most sinful noises from his mouth.

"fuck—that's a good fuckin' girl sucking my cock." he breathes, thrusting his cock into the back of your throat as you suck him off and swirl your tongue around him. your hand creeps up his thigh, taking his balls between your soft fingers. he throws his head back and moans. as his cock twitches he pulls out of your mouth quickly.

he helps you up and bends you over the sink, pulling your soaked panties off. "i'll keep these for the rest of the evening so you can walk around full and dripping with my cum, they'll know who you belong to won't they, angel?" he coos as he slides into you, grabbing your hips to steady himself. you moan and slam back against him.

"that's my girl, taking my dick so well." he grunts, slamming his cock against your cervix. "keep it up and i'll give you a baby." your knees buckle with each thrust. "ah fuck–! armin–" you whine. "yeah? you wanna cum, angel?" he asks. "if you're a good girl the rest of the night i'll let you cum when we get home." you pout. "just gotta keep my cum inside that pretty pussy, angel. if you can do that, i'll let you cum at home. i can't let them hear how pretty you sound when you make a mess on my cock." he slams one last, sloppy time into you and spills his cum into you, pushing it as deep as it could possibly go.

he kisses your shoulder and adjusts your dress, then stuffs your wet panties into his pocket. "all mine, angel. let's go back out there. don't want them getting suspicious."

[buggy-samaaa]

Caught, part 4

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Word count: 532

Content: NSFW — mdni, gender neutral reader, no y/n, second person POV, voyeurism, anal, masturbation, misuse of devil’s fruit powers

——

The next day was awkward, to say the least. Buggy had completely given up talking to you, relaying orders to you through Cabaji instead. 

“Captain says he wants you around the corner from the big top today,” Cabaji told you. You glanced behind Cabaji to see Buggy hovering just within earshot. When Buggy noticed your gaze, he zipped out of view.

“...Why? That makes no sense.”

“Captain says,” Cabaji repeated with a shrug. You crossed your arms in response.

“Well, you can tell Captain Buggy that I've had lots of success in my current spot. Customers can see the tent, I tell them about the circus as I draw their caricature, and they decide to check it out. More money for the crew, and no need to chain people up.”

Cabaji set his lips in a line and sighed. “Look, I don't know why he doesn't want to talk to you or even see you from the tent, but I don't like being a messenger. So, just follow the order, and when he sees it loses him money and audience members, he'll figure something else out. Okay?” And before you could respond, Cabaji left. 

To Buggy's relief, you moved your easel, chairs, display, and supplies to where he had directed you. Now he wouldn't be forced to be reminded of The Incident upon seeing you from within the big top. He really didn't care that it could lead to a decline in customers as long as he didn't have to see you… but he knew he couldn't avoid you forever. 

That evening, you happened to be entering the galley as Buggy left it with a plate of food. You bumped straight into him, causing the food to dump all over his vest and pants.

“Shit,” Buggy muttered, trying to wipe off the gravy and scalloped potatoes from the fabric with his gloved hand. He glanced up and noticed it was you who bumped into him. “Shiiit.”

You pulled out a handkerchief from your back pocket and started wiping him off without a second thought. “Sorry,” you said, mopping up the liquids. “You better wash these as soon as possible, or they'll stain.” You deliberately avoided wiping off his pants, blushing a bit as you handed the cloth to him to do that part himself.

Buggy flushed. “I-I’m not gonna strip right in front of you,” he said in protest as he rubbed the cloth against his crotch. 

“Why would y– I'm not telling you to!” you responded. Your eyes flicked to his vigorous rubbing of his groin and you blushed deeper. “Stop doing that, it's giving me flashbacks,” you hissed. 

“I'm trying to clean off all the crap you spilled on me,” he hissed back. “And don't talk about it!” 

You swiped back your hanky to force him to cut it out. He grabbed the other half of it and yanked hard, and the force of it caused you to jolt forward, falling against his chest and catching yourself on his shoulders. Buggy instinctively stepped away, then slipped on the dropped food and fell on his ass, making you slip with him and land with your face right between his legs. Great.

[666writingcafe]

Greed (Part One)

Author's Note: Welcome to season two of Nightbringer. Things are about to get real interesting around here.

MC

Barbatos has prepared a bunch of fortune cookies for us as thanks for helping with the final touches of RAD before the opening ceremony. One of them has a coin inside that he swears is lucky, so inevitably Mammon's tearing through them at a pace nearly rivaling Beel's.

Amidst the chaos, I manage to grab a couple cookies and crack them open. The first was empty, but the second...

The glint of the coin catches Mammon's eye, and before I can put it in one of the uniform pockets, he snatches it from my hand. Once the others catch on to what just happen, they begin berating Mammon for stealing from me. He then protests, claiming that the coin is his and that he's not going to give it to anyone else, not even to me.

But the sound of everyone's voices gets drowned out by the one inside my head. Yes, it's irritating that Mammon yanked the coin right out of my hand instead of asking if he could have it or, at the very least, take a closer look at it before giving it back to me. In that regard, it makes sense that I feel upset.

But not this upset. At the end of the day, it's just a coin. I'm sure Barbatos could find another one if I asked him to. There's no need to fight Mammon over it, and yet the urge to do so grows exponentially greater with each passing second. It's my coin, not his.

I quietly excuse myself and walk out of the castle's parlor to a spot in the less noisy hallway. Once I've sat down on the ground, I close my eyes and try one of the meditation exercises I was taught so long ago in order to clear my mind. As the brother's attendant, it would be highly improper for me to cause or add onto a scene, and I'm not about to embarrass myself in front of everybody by exploding at Mammon.

"MC?" Satan's voice cuts through the relative silence. "Is everything okay?" Keeping my eyes closed, I shake my head.

"Do you want to talk about it, or do you need to be left alone?" He probably felt my anger drastically spike and decided to check in on me, which I do appreciate. It shows that he's taking some of our lessons to heart and wanting to help others navigate through their wrath. Even if it's just me he's doing this with, it's a start.

"I'll be okay in a few minutes," I respond. "I just needed to get away from--"

"As long as I have this coin, the money's gonna come rolling in. Piles and piles of sweet, sweet money!" Great. Just great. "C'mon world, bring on the good luck! Hit me with that cold hard cash! Gobs and gobs of moolah, rainin' down on the Great Mammon!"

Whatever anger I'd managed to dissipate comes back ten-fold, and I can't decide whether to bang my head against a wall or to lunge at Mammon, demanding he give me back my coin.

Or worse.

"Give me your hand." Lucifer's stern enough that I'm able to follow his simple command. I find myself squeezing his hand as soon as I'm back on my feet, and the momentarily pained look in his eyes suggests that I'm causing him some discomfort. However, he seems to take it in stride, for he doesn't say anything about it as we begin walking.

At first, we're keeping up with the other brothers as we leave the castle behind, but then we approach a fork in the road. They go one way, and we go the other.

"They'll be fine," he explains once we've put some distance between us and them. He must have caught the confused look on my face but didn't want to tip off the others. "At least for a little bit. Satan's in charge until I return from dropping you off at the cabin. Consider this a mandatory vacation from work."

"But--"

"I will ensure that your duties are covered in your absence, but this is not up for debate." Abruptly stopping, he lets go of my hand, only to turn around and put both of his hands on my shoulders so that he's looking directly at me.

"Please understand that I'm not doing this to punish you, MC." His voice has gotten softer. "I know you were trying your best to maintain control, and I appreciate you resisting the urge to attack my brother. However, you were very close to snapping, and I don't know what would have happened if I didn't step in when I did." He sighs, briefly glancing down at the ground.

"I care about you and want to keep you safe. I don't know why this is happening to you, but I can at least ensure some amount of protection if you're staying with Solomon. That won't be the case at the House, especially if these outbursts keep happening."

I don't remember where or when I read this, but freshly-born demons go through something similar to a human's puberty, except most of it occurs on a magical level. So, Lucifer's concern is valid, because if this is them going through their puberty, it's going to be very difficult for them given their status as Avatars of Sin. The last thing anyone needs is for me to get caught in the crossfires of that.

After all, I can't return to my timeline if I wind up dead in this one.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[say-hwaet]

That's The Way it Is

Chapter 20: Know When to Fold 'Em Next Chapter: Coming soon! Summary: Kit and Arthur meet with Trelawny, as he has a job for them. While Kit is unsure as to what these plans are, she holds onto the hope that the money they'll make will help them find a new life somewhere else. Warnings: Mature Themes, Language, Innuendo, Cross-Dressing, nudity Word Count: ~8,200

“I’ve already gotten my hair cut, Josiah…” Arthur groans as he reluctantly sits in the barber’s chair. “That party was much fancier than what this is gonna be.”

Trelawny clicks his tongue. “I wouldn’t be so sure, dear boy! You’ve practically grown a beard since then! They don’t call you mountain man just because you lived in a cave, you know.”

Arthur doesn’t have a beard, and while you can tell that Trelawny is enjoying this, you have a little pity for your husband. He looks like a wild animal forced to domestication: miserable.

You decide to divert Josiah’s attention by starting up a conversation with him. 

“I don’t suppose you want me to get all fixed up, too?”

Trelawny takes his eyes away from Arthur long enough to smile mischievously at you. “Not this time, my dear.”

Your smile falls. “I won’t? Well…what then…?”

“In due time you will know, for now…I have some important information to share with you…” He takes you by the arm and begins to lead you out of the barber shop, not before calling back to Arthur. “Now, you get yourself spiffy, Mr. Callahan! Or your wife will have my skin!” The door closes behind you and he pulls you aside. “Now, remember the favor you asked…?”

Yes, you do. When he was helping you and Arthur get ready for the mayor’s party, you had asked him to look into the Blackwater Massacre. He must have found something. “Yes, I remember.”

“Good, because I think you'll be interested to know that the day of the ferry job gone bad, one of my sources managed to look at medical records that were logged that day.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang onto every word. “Oh, don’t keep me in suspense, Trelawny…!”

“Well, the records show that an unknown woman, in her late twenties, was shot by a revolver.”

Your excitement quickly dims, what a build-up for such a letdown! “But that is like saying that I ate a piece of fruit for breakfast.” You grip Trelawny’s arm with a deep intensity. “What kind of gun?”

There is a twinkle in Trelawny’s eye and he pats your hand, unphased by the strength of your grip. “Ah, I knew you’d want more details! So I dug a little deeper and come to find out that it was a Schofield revolver.” He pauses then adds. “The very same gun Agent Milton uses, and other lead Pinkerton Agents.”

Your breath catches in your throat, a chill spreading through your veins. If Trelawny’s findings are accurate, this could link the Pinkertons directly to your own injuries. The implications of this information unfurl in your mind like the dark clouds before a storm. They know who you are and that your escape was futile. They must have caught you somehow, perhaps you were on your way to Arthur, or maybe doing something else? Would you have abandoned the plans?

You should talk to Arthur. When this plan of Trelawny’s is over.

You look up at Trelawny and nod your thanks. “Thank you, Josiah. If you do find out anything more, please let me know.”

He raises his top hat in a flamboyant gesture and bows. “Anything for a fellow magician.”

You chuckle. “I’m hardly anything of that nature.”

“On the contrary, my dear, you can pull a yarn out of hat, weaving it into anything believable.”

By the look in his eye, you can’t help but suspect there is a reason for this compliment. “That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with what you have planned for me, is it?”

That’s when he grins broadly and taps his hat. “See? Quick as a whip.” After a moment, he gestures to the barbershop. “Why don’t we go in and see how the oil magnate is doing?”

You nod and follow Trelawny back inside. Once your foot steps into the building you see Arthur rise from his chair. You can already tell by the clean cut of the back of his head, he is going to make your heart nearly stop. 

Then he turns around. 

A soft “oh” escapes your lips and it almost sounds too suggestive, for the barber quickly whips around to stare at you, eyes wide. You cover your mouth and cough, apologizing with little save for your dignity. 

Paired with the opulent blue patterned vest with ivory buttons, accented by a blue neckerchief, Arthur’s eyes are strikingly more marine than they’ve ever been. His gray coat with a black turned-out collar and black pants could make you drool ravenously if you were behind closed doors.

And his hair, slicked back and trimmed, shines with pomade and your eyes stare at the cleanest shaven face you’ve ever seen. You want to touch those cheeks of his, and perhaps kiss him all over, but you must retrain yourself and snuff out the flame in your body that burns like the heat of a thousand Julys.

“You truly are a magician, Josiah Trelawny,” you say softly, and the barber quickly looks away to busy himself, his ears turning pink. 

Arthur is also turning bashful, avoiding your eyes and immediately heading for the door. 

Josiah laughs and follows you out as you remain under your husband’s unintentional spell. And once back into the open air Trelawny raises his cane as though leading a march. “Follow me, lady and gentleman, we are going to ride in style.”

You hardly feel stylish, wearing a simple black gown that makes you look like a maid. Maybe calm and unassuming is what Trelawny is going for, but you follow them nonetheless. 

But not before passing a remark to your husband. “I do have to say, Mr. Callahan, your wife is a lucky woman.”

Arthur only snorts, still ruffled by his earlier bashfulness. So you leave it at that. 

As soon as you step out, you behold a fancy open coach, with a well-dressed driver in attendance. “Right on time!” he calls out and the driver tips his hat. 

Turning to you both, Josiah opens the carriage door. “Well, hop in! Those cards aren’t going to play themselves!”

You and Arthur glance at each other, still in the dark about what is going on. But you shrug your shoulders and are the first to get in. You turn to watch Josiah and Arthur come in and before Josiah gets the chance to sit, Arthur slips in right beside you. Josiah chortles at this but doesn’t say anything. 

Settling in, Josiah turns to look at the driver. “George, to the Grand Korrigan, please!” And the coach lurches forward. As you three ride down the streets of Saint Denis, you watch the bustle go by. “Well!” Josiah exclaims looking at Arthur. “Look at you. From frog…to prince.”

Arthur waves him off, leaning into you as though for moral support. “This is a bit much, ain’t it? The coach?”

You grin and pat Arthur’s leg, making him jump. “Of course, not! What says wealth like riding in style, Mr. Callahan?” you ask, a playful grin on your lips.

“Exactly!” Josiah agrees. “You’re a brash oil man with money to burn! Which reminds me…” and he waggles a finger in Arthur’s direction. “No shuffling or mumbling. Kit won’t be there to coach you on decorum, you just put on your best behavior.”

You lift your brow and blink. And speak at the same time as Arthur. “I’m not?”

“She ain’t?”

Josiah shakes his head. “Nope. So puff out your chest—”

You try to cut him off to voice a concern. “Josiah—”

But you’re unsuccessful. “—Get outside yourself!”

Arthur grumbles. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. This ain’t no Hamlet. So, who’s the mark?”

Josiah goes on to describe the hosiery king Desmond Blythe, after reassuring you both that you all can speak freely in front of George. Apparently, there’s a lot of money on this boat, with gambling tournaments that last throughout the night on the Lennehechee River. 

And the one thing that you are picking up on, is that it is exclusive to only men.

How does that work for you?

“—your chips will be waiting for you—”

“Josiah,” you state and finally he looks at you. 

“Yes, Miss Petrova?”

You try not to sound sharp with your tone, but since the coach just stopped at the docks, you’d like to know what your task is. “What am I doing?”

He pauses a moment, then clicks his tongue. “Oh! Of course!” Then he studies you for a second or two. “Can…all of your dark tresses tuck under…say…a guard’s cap?”

You think about it for a minute. “Maybe, if I had some hairpins and braided it really tight.”

Hold on. 

You look at Josiah and blink several times and as you see the grin on his face, you begin to piece it together. “Wait, what?”

***

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

You complain as you wait just outside, your body hugging the exterior of the main deck to the Grand Korrigan. You’re waiting for Javier, who is supposed to provide you with your new costume. You finish coiling your long braid atop your head, pinning it in place so it won’t fall. Of all of the performances you have done, you’ve never pulled a stunt like this. 

You exhale slowly. The last thing you need is to get worked up over this. This is for money. And money is what you need to get you, Arthur, and the Marstons out. 

“I think I heard something over here…”

That’s him. That’s Javier. 

And he’s coming. 

You remain in the shadows and hold your breath as you hear several pairs of footsteps draw closer. 

“Are you sure someone fell overboard?” a man asks. 

“I can’t swim, Jeremy,” a younger man says. 

“We ain’t gonna jump into the river even if there was. There’s a procedure for that.”

“All I know,” Javier says calmly. “Was that I heard a scream. Now, please…”

Javier draws them closer and it isn’t long before you see them come around the corner, their darkened silhouettes from the evening sky easily marked by their guard caps and guns. 

Javier stops and the men follow suit, scanning around. “I don’t see anything,” the young one says, almost relieved. 

But the older one, Jeremy, holds out an arm. “Wait…” and he sniffs the air. “Do you smell that? Smells like…flowers…”

It’s the oils you use in your hair. You look to see Javier glance in your direction, nodding towards the smaller man. He wants you to take that one. 

You nod and begin to move carefully. 

The young man sniffs the air and sighs. “It reminds me of my mother, God rest her—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve already pounced on him just as Javier wrings the rifle out of Jeremy’s hands and knocks him out with the brunt of it. 

“You got it?” Javier asks you, just as you dispatch the young guard with a hard swing of your arm into his Adam’s apple, he tumbles beneath you and you catch your footing before going to the ground. 

“Yes,” you pant. “I hope that wasn’t too loud.”

Javier nods. “I think we’re good.” Then he points to the young guard. “Think he’s about your size?”

You look down at the unconscious guard. You’re impressed with Javier’s sense of measurement. Well, you really aren’t surprised. Javier is well-versed in the anatomy that is woman. He could probably list off your measurements just by looking at a photograph of you. 

You nod. “Yes. It should do fine.”

He combs back his hair with his fingers then pulls down his suit jacket. He walks over to a wooden door that reads, “employees only” and picks it open with a throwing knife he had tucked away. After quietly opening the door he makes a gesture towards the darkness of the supply closet. “Ladies first. I’ll keep watch.”

You nod. Grabbing a hold of the guard, you carefully drag him into the closet and Javier closes the door.

You make quick of the exchange. While the young man will be out cold for several hours, you aren’t about to have him wake up unexpectedly while you are changing into his clothes. Using some bandages to wrap your bust, you are able to disguise the shape of your figure, though, given that your breasts aren’t as large as, say, that of Karen or Mary Beth, it isn’t too difficult of a task.

Once adorned in the guard’s uniform, the fit is surprisingly good—not too tight, not too loose. You take a moment to adjust the belt and ensure the cap sits properly on your head, tucking your hair underneath. Satisfied with the disguise, you roll the young man onto his side in a recovery position, leaving him as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and out of the way so that Javier can change into his disguise.

And so, with all that you can do, you open the door. Javier turns around to look at you and freezes. “Dios mio, Kitka!” he grins. “You look like a friend of mine I used to play with as un niño.”

You let out a soft chuckle, bending down to pick up the rifle the guard had dropped. “What was his name?”

“Romualdo.”

You nod. “Then Romualdo I shall be.” Then standing tall, ready for guard duty, you nod dutifully to Javier. “Your turn.”

Javier nods enthusiastically and after picking up the older guard, disappears into the closet you just vacated. The minutes trickle by, each second stretching longer than the last, as you guard the door. Staying alert, you keep an eye out for any passersby who might question why a guard is standing sentry outside a supply closet. Luckily, the action of the gambling tournament is distracting enough to keep all passengers indoors, and Javier soon comes out in his own disguise. He picks up the rifle he had propped beside the door and takes an aborted step before turning back around to face you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “Trelawny wanted you to use this.” And he hands you a small box.

Your brow pinches and after swinging the rifle over your shoulder, you take the box and open it.

And you only have six words.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

***

You can’t help but touch it. And you can hear Javier try to get your attention to get you to stop. This has to be the way you’re paying back the debt you owe Trelawny for finding that information on your mysterious attack during the massacre. Wearing a man’s uniform? Fine. Not being around Arthur, but you can at least see him? Okay.

But this…wearing a fake mustache?

You feel ridiculous.

You know that if you keep messing with it, the glue will wear off and that will be it. But while you are irritated, it’s sort of interesting. To have some sort of inner perspective on what it is like to have a handlebar mustache. You could be Trelawny’s twin brother. A smaller, younger twin, but a twin, nonetheless.

A sudden movement from the corner of your eye gathers your attention and you let your mustache go for just a moment to watch three men rise from a gambling table, clearly disgruntled and they storm off.

All that remains at the table are Arthur and Desmond Blythe, the man you are all collectively trying to rob.

He’s definitely the type that fits the bill, with slicked-back hair and a haughty expression that makes your skin crawl every time you glance in his direction. Perhaps it is best that you are disguised as a man.

You have a feeling that despite his arrogance, it seems tempered by the intense focus he places on the cards in his hand and the towering pile of chips in front of him.

Arthur sits opposite of him, on your side of the room, and just across the way sits Strauss, giving Arthur subtle nods or shakes of his head every now and again. Given your own personal feelings, you were quickly apprehensive to have him come along, but given his knowledge of numbers and calculating, he’s proven to be a good asset. Especially now that it is just down to the oil magnate and hosiery king.

You can see the cool expression in Arthur’s profile, his piercing blue eyes looking at the cocky Mr. Blythe as they have a conversation that you can’t quite make out. You are simply here to guard the door until you’re needed, nothing more.

Yet, your thoughts keep drifting to Arthur. Despite the distance and the guise of nonchalance, every minor gesture, the way his brow furrows in concentration or how he occasionally runs a hand through his fawn-colored hair, pulls at something deep within you. It's almost torturous, being this close yet so far from him, his body like a tether pulling at the very marrow of your bones.

Each moment ticks by painfully slow, encased in the thick, smoke-filled air of the room. The clink of glasses and the jangle of coins serve as a constant reminder of the world bustling around you, yet all you can focus on is him.

The game continues. You don’t know much about poker, but you can read faces. You can see the effort on Desmond’s part to keep a straight face, but you can see the twitch in his brow, the tighter grip on his cards. He must think that he has a good hand.

And Arthur, well, he’s as cold as stone. Unreadable.

Maybe that’s one of the things you liked most about him in the beginning. Arthur never lets his guard down, for anything or anyone, and yet, somehow, you’ve had the pleasure to see his vulnerabilities, the ragged edges that he rarely shows to anyone else. The duality that is Arthur Morgan is what makes him able to be a brute one minute and a gentleman the next.

Their voices get louder for a brief moment, and you are able to catch a snippet of their conversation as cards are dealt. “I would stick to oil, Mr. Callahan, I don’t think you have a future on the stage.”

Arthur chortles. “You sound just like my wife…!”

And you bite your lower lip. Looking up, you see a waitress with a tray of drinks and she’s staring at you. You don’t know why, but you nod politely to her. 

And she winks at you. Uh oh. 

You feel the color flush out of your face and you avoid her gaze, looking over at your husband while he tries to charm his way through the poker game. 

Desmond suddenly shouts, cursing loudly. He lost the hand.

Arthur leans forward, grinning, saying something that you can’t hear. He starts to get up and that’s when Desmond holds out his hand, demanding that Arthur sit back down.

They start to speak in hushed tones, almost conspiringly and you see Arthur nod his head.

The dealer begins shuffling the cards again. Another round is beginning.

The cards get passed out one more time, and you and Javier watch from where you stand as the two men review their cards.

"Care to wager a guess who will win this hand, Romualdo?" Javier whispers to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You can't help but smile a little as you watch Arthur study his cards, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.

"I'd bet on Arthur," you murmur back, being careful to speak in a lower and raspy tone, you don’t want anyone to suspect you aren’t a male guard.

Javier nods. “I think those are good odds…”

You turn to look back at the table and that’s when you see Desmond lean forward, putting in all of his chips as you hear him say, “All in.”

Arthur leans back in his chair, eyeing his hand of cards closely. Is he going to fold, as they say? You don’t know if he has a good hand or not.

Then, in a calm gesture, Arthur pushes all of his chips forward.

All in. 

The moment of truth. The men flip their cards over, and Desmond still seems confident.

Until the dealer reveals the remaining community cards.

That’s when Desmond’s smile turns upside down and he curses Arthur for winning.

But you can’t help but smile.

Desmond slams the table, turning in his chair. Arthur, on the other hand, simply collects his winnings with that same half-smile, his eyes flickering briefly towards you in silent triumph.

Arthur says something to Mr. Blythe. An attendant appears behind him and starts a conversation with Arthur.

“It’s just upstairs,” he says. “Shall we go and have a look?”

“Why not?”

And with the attendant leading the way, he and Arthur head in your direction. Arthur lingers, to hand his chips to an employee.

But the attendant approaches you and Javier, eyeing you suspiciously.

“When did you start workin’ here?” he asks you.

You haven’t really mastered the art of masculine voices, as you’ve never really had need of it, and so you struggle to find it again.

That’s when Javier cuts in. “He can’t speak English,” he explains. “I’m his mentor.”

The attendant turns to Javier. “You?” You can tell by his tone that it isn’t out of genuine curiosity. It is no different than how people have spoken to you. With bigotry and prejudice.

The attendant's gaze lingers a moment longer, suspicion wrinkling his brow. Javier holds his stare, unflinching, until the man shrugs and turns away, dismissing the perceived threat you pose. “I don’t have time to look for someone else. Both of you, come with me.”

By now, Arthur has joined you both and when he glances at you, he needs to do a double-take. He leans in close, almost in disbelief that it really is you behind that mustache. “My god…” he breathes, almost grinning.

“I know,” the attendant says smugly. “They’ll give anyone a gun these days.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow at the attendant's remark, but he doesn’t say anything. And follows behind the attendant as Javier escorts them at the front and you linger in the back, rifles in your hands. “Follow me, gentlemen,” Javier says politely.

As you all walk immediately up a flight of stairs, the attendant continues on with his racist speech about not trusting certain people with guns, meaning Mexicans and “whatever that young fellow is supposed to be,” though his word choice is more abysmal. You try to tune it out, focusing your attention on Arthur and looking out for any subtle signals that Javier might give.

He also makes the point to flash a handgun that he bequeaths his “lawgiver” before tucking it back away in his coat. Idiot.

You all continue down an opulent hallway, passing by women sitting in some sort of lounge. They glance up at you, offering soft smiles, but given the exchange with the waitress, you aren’t too quick to be cordial. You focus ahead and watch Javier and the attendant go through another door that leads to the outside of the ship and yet another set of stairs. You all walk up to the Upper-class Deck and to a cabin with many windows. This makes you nervous. Anyone coming up here could see you all trying to rob this man. 

But then again, there’s three of you versus himself and the measly little “lawgiver.”

Walking around to the side of the cabin, the attendant stops in front of the door.

“In here,” he says and he turns to Javier. “Wait out here, would you? It always does good to have extra security.”

You catch a look from Javier before he nods to the attendant. “Of course.”

Arthur and you enter the room, the attendant leading with a set of keys jangling loudly in his hand as he unlocks what appears to be a private office. The room smells of bourbon and leather, an aroma that immediately makes you wary - it's too familiar, too reminiscent of the places where plans were made and secrets kept within.

And there is another guard in here.

Arthur seems to have a similar concern, for the look in his eye adds a question of, “How do you think we should get rid of him?”

The attendant turns to Arthur. “Give me just a second, sir.”

Arthur smiles. “‘Course, take your time.”

The man goes to the large safe in the center of the wall and begins to go turn the dial. You watch him carefully. Though he is trying to block Arthur from viewing the safe, he hasn’t taken into account your perceptive eyes. You try to memorize the combination, in the event that you might need it.

But in the corner of your eye, you see the other guard watching you suspiciously. You feel it odd that he’s staring at you like that and nervously you go to touch your face.

That’s when you feel the asymmetrical mustache.

You shouldn’t have touched it! The sudden realization marks shock on your face and you lock eyes with the other guard.

His brow furrows and he readies his rifle. “Hey…!”

You and Arthur have but a split second to react. He sucker punches the guard in the face, knocking him unconscious instantly, and you point your rifle at the attendant.

Things just got a little intense.

“Don’t you reach for that gun!” Arthur warns the attendant with a menacing growl.

The attendant raises his hands in surrender and looks at you, quickly noticing your wardrobe malfunction. “What? You’re…you’re…”

Ripping off your fake mustache, you resume your normal tone of voice when you talk to Arthur. “Check his pockets, darling.” And you relish in the man’s utter shock that you are a woman. “Take his lawgiver.”

Arthur swiftly obliges, pulling back the startled attendant’s coat. His fingers find the weight of a revolver tucked into the man’s belt, which he promptly secures in his own grip and tucks away. “I guess they will hire anyone these days,” he says with sarcasm, and you chuckle softly at that. Finished, Arthur shoves the man away from the safe. “Not so tough are we, now?”

But you see something in the attendant’s eyes and as his hand lowers you almost see it in slow motion.

He’s got another gun.

“Arthur…!” you shout, fear and panic coursing through your veins as you only have seconds to act. Instinct takes over as you react with lightning speed, using your leg to deliver a powerful kick that sends the gun flying out of his hand before he can even pull it from his jacket. The rush of adrenaline fuels your movements as you lunge forward, determined to take down this threat with all your strength and agility. You drop your rifle in the process, but your impact makes the attendant fall to the floor with a hard whomp, knocking the wind out of him. He struggles to move, and deciding to dispatch him, you deliver a blow to his Adam's apple, rendering him unconscious.

You catch your breath and climb off of the man.

You turn to meet Arthur’s eyes, and he is just about as shocked as you are, his face a mix of admiration and concern. He rushes over to you, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to embrace you or check for injuries.

"Kit, you alright?" His voice is tense, the edge of worry not quite hidden.

You nod, still catching your breath. "Yes. I just hope nobody heard that.”

He nods. “We should get the others and get off this boat.”

“Maybe before it docks?”

“Yeah.” He backs away, turning to the safe. In a quick rush, he takes all that he can and shoves cash, a watch, and other valuables in his pockets. “Let’s go.”

You both hurry out of the cabin and find Javier still waiting for you. “I saw through the window.”

“Then you know we need to get the hell outta here…” Arthur growls.

“I don’t think we should all go back in, it might draw attention,” you say, your expertise in these matters coming out. “Plus, I don’t think my disguise is as effective anymore.” You reach up to touch your cupid’s bow, peeling some of the glue off your skin.

Javier nods. “There are some lifeboats just down those steps. You two should get one and I will bring Trelawny and Strauss back. Act like it’s official business.”

“Not a bad idea,” Arthur says, and claps Javier on the back. “Best get goin’.”

And with that, you split up. Arthur takes your hand, leading you toward the narrow steps that descend to the deck below. His grip is firm, and reassuring, as if he could squeeze away the danger with his calloused fingers. The ship's wooden planks creak under your hurried steps, a somber reminder of the precarious situation.

As you both reach the lower level, you hear voices. Arthur quickly pulls you back, pressing your body against the shadowed wall. Your heart races as you peek around the corner, spotting two shipmates idly chatting by the lifeboats.

"We've got to get past ‘em," Arthur whispers, his breath warm against your ear. His gaze is fixed on the men, calculating the next move.

You nod, your mind racing through options. If you were wearing a skirt or other clothing, it might be easier to lure them away. But maybe you just need enough time to catch them off guard.

“Give me a few seconds,” you start to say, removing your gloves. “While I have them distracted, sneak behind them and take them out.”

Arthur looks hesitant, his eyes narrowing as he assesses the risk. “Just…be careful.”

You hand him your gloves and peck his cheek. “When am I not?” And leaving him with a cheeky grin, you walk toward the shipmates.

You make it about halfway toward them, when you take off your cap and emit a loud sigh. “Oh, my…!” They quickly whip around, their conversation cut short and their eyes go wide as they see you. You start to uncoil your long braid and let your hair down, almost tantalizingly. “Isn’t the Lennehechee River so beautiful at night?” Their eyes are still on you and you slowly begin to unbutton the shirt of your uniform. “I think…” you say slowly, looking at them with half-lidded eyes, “I might go for a swim…”

The two men glance at each other, the temptation obviously tugging at their curiosity. One of them, a burly fellow with a thick beard, steps closer, his gaze lingering on your loosening buttons. "Now, miss, that ain't safe at all," he begins, his voice a mix of concern and intrigue.

“Oh?” And leaving your shirt partly unbuttoned, you go to remove your boots. “But wouldn’t one of you nice, strong men come and save me?” You see Arthur quietly make his way over, crouching low and coming up behind them as their eyes follow your every move. “Or perhaps accompany me?” You cast another glance over at Arthur, giving him a subtle signal. He nods slightly, readying himself.

The other shipmate, younger and sprightlier with a mess of freckles across his nose, looks both excited and nervous. “Well, I reckon we could…”

Then Arthur standing right behind them, delivers a single line. “Not with my wife, you ain’t.”

Then just as they turn, he takes their heads and smashes them against each other, effectively knocking them out cold. They crumple to the wooden deck with a thud that echoes into the night.

Arthur quickly drags their unconscious bodies behind a stack of crates, ensuring they remain unseen. You hastily button up your shirt while rushing over to him, feeling a mix of adrenaline and relief.

“I really didn’t want to test my ability to swim just yet,” you say softly.

“I would’ve gone after you, Kit,” Arthur grins.

You smile at him with half-lidded eyes. “My hero.” He walks over to you, looking at you for a moment and you tilt your head. “What?”

He looks down at your chest and gestures to it by pointing at his own. “Your…” He lets his voice trail off and he shakes his head. “Never mind.” And without waiting for a reply, he makes his way over to the lifeboats. “Let’s see if we can set it up. Javier and the rest of them should be over here soon.”

“I hope so.”

Arthur's footsteps recede towards the lifeboats, his figure blending into the dark like a specter of the night. The air is thick with tension and the distant calls of seagulls that seem to mock the seriousness of your escape. You follow him, the old wooden planks creaking under your feet as you move.

After helping him rig the boat for departure, you hear more footsteps coming. Arthur immediately puts you behind him, shielding you from who might be coming.

“Excellent work, dear boy!”

You relax and you see Arthur visibly relax as well. It’s Trelawny.

“And you have an escape for us! Good work, Mr. Morgan,” Strauss praises.

“We ain’t out of the woods yet,” Arthur grumbles and he steps over the edge of the riverboat and into the lifeboat. “We gotta get this in the water.” He looks at you and offers his hand. “C’mon, darlin’.”

You hesitate, your hand hovering over Arthur's, the weight of your old life anchoring you momentarily to the deck. But then, with a resolve born from all those nights spent dreaming of freedom beneath starlit skies, you place your hand in his. The warmth of his grasp is reassuring, a silent promise that he will keep you safe.

But you never doubted.

You lift your leg up and over the edge and step into the lifeboat, and his hands go to your waist to stabilize you.

“Alright,” Arthur sighs. “Next?”

***

Arthur, ever the strong one, rowed the boat to shore. You all are farther down the river than you had anticipated and end up just shy of Copperhead Landing.

You and Javier help Arthur pull the boat onto the sandy beach and once there is enough dry land, Josiah and Strauss step out. The moon hangs high in the sky and there is a foggy haze coupled with sounds of crickets and other nightly critters that remind you of the marshlands that you can’t seem to avoid.

“Well!” Josiah exclaims. “We made out with some goodies, nobody was shot, and we all remain unscathed…” He looks at the rest of you with a satisfied nod. “I’d say that was a success!”

Strauss approaches Arthur, pushing up his spectacles. “What did you make out with, Mr. Morgan?”

Knowing that is his cue to divide up the spoils, he pulls out the cash, splits it amongst them, and hands Javier the camp’s share. “Get this back to Hosea, will you?”

Javier studies Arthur with an arched brow. “You not comin’ back with us?”

Taking a quick glance at you, he looks back at Javier and shakes his head. “No. I wanna see if I can bring in some more cash. Kit and I are gonna explore a little bit.” And seeing the look on Javier’s face, Arthur raises a palm. “Hosea knows about it. Don’t worry, we will be back before Dutch really has need of us.”

Javier nods, though the skepticism in his eyes doesn't quite fade. He trusts Arthur, sure, but your presence has always been a wildcard.

“Come with me, gentlemen,” Josiah says. “I will arrange some transportation for you so you may get home in one piece!” Turning, Strauss and Javier follow Trelawny as they traipse through the sandy marsh and make their way toward the city, leaving you and Arthur standing there in the moonlight, the ghostly tendrils of fog curling around your legs.

Arthur turns to you, running his fingers through your now loose, long hair. “Never thought I’d see you lookin’ like that,” he comments.

You snort. “Neither did I. Next time Trelawny has a job, don’t let me agree to it.”

Arthur lets out a laugh, safe to be loud in the vast openness of the marsh, without a boat or carriage in sight. “You did good though, proved that you could pass for almost anybody.”

You arch your brow. “And that I don’t look good in a mustache.”

Arthur chuckles, his eyes twinkling under the silver disk of the moon hanging in the sky. “Maybe, but I prefer it when you wear nothin’ at all,” he teases with a roguish grin, his voice dropping to a more intimate timbre.

You shake your head, trying to suppress a smile that threatens to break through your composed exterior. "You're impossible," you retort, though the warmth in your tone belies your mock annoyance.

Arthur's smile softens, and he reaches out to cup your cheek gently. "Maybe so," he agrees, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "But I'm only impossible 'bout things that truly matter. Like keepin’ you safe—and makin’ sure you know how much you mean to me.”

The touch of his skin against yours sends a familiar shiver down your spine, bringing back flashes of those stolen moments that only the two of you shared, hidden from the prying eyes of the gang.

You let your eyes cast southward, toward the city. “I don’t suppose we can return to the hotel, we already checked out and packed our things.”

Arthur nods. “Ain’t a bad thing. Was gettin’ kinda tired of the city, anyway.” He looks toward the city and lets his hand caress the back of your neck.

You pat his chest. “How do you feel about getting the horses?”

Arthur looks down at you. “You don’t mind waitin’?”

You shake your head, offering a tired smile. “No. I can find a dry spot and we can make camp.”

He shakes his head. “Let’s find camp first, then I will go for the horses.”

You don’t mind. It is dark, and you would feel safer if he were there to make sure that the area you both plan to sleep in is safe. You consent with a soft nod. “Alright.”

Together, you both walk hand in hand, heading west into Lemoyne, Arthur attentive and careful as you walk into the woods. Eventually, after walking a ways into Bluewater Marsh, you eventually come across an abandoned houseboat on the river. After checking it out, You build a fire in the boat’s metal fire pit and wait for Arthur to return with the horses.

Without the sound of the phonograph, it is deathly quiet. You have heard some of the people in Saint Denis talk about a band of people called the night folk, who raid the marshes and bayous at night, in silence, taking victims without warning. You’re grateful for the fire to illuminate the space about the houseboat, but that doesn’t strengthen the illusion of safety.

Giving you the revolver that Arthur had taken from the attendant, you clutch it tightly, watching, listening, waiting.

The fire crackles, casting eerie shadows along the deteriorating wooden walls of the houseboat. You sit closer to the warmth, the revolver heavy in your hand, its chill metal a small comfort against the uncertainty of the marshes. Occasionally, a frog croaks nearby, or an owl hoots from a distance, and while those sounds normally act as a lullaby, you are having little to no trouble fighting sleep. You’re exhausted, the achiness in your joints becoming more prominent, but you can’t sleep now.

You don’t know how long time has passed. An hour, maybe more, but it has been silent up until you hear a twig snap nearby.

You sit straight up, your heart hammering in your chest as you strain your ears into the darkness. The revolver feels slippery in your sweaty palm, and you tighten your grip, ready to defend yourself if need be. Your eyes try to pierce the inky blackness that surrounds the flickering circle of firelight.

Another snap, closer this time. You hold out the revolver, pointing it in the direction of the sound.

Then you hear a heavy snort and a swishing sound.

Not man. Beast.

Taking a risk, you whistle a special tune.

Then you hear a soft whinny.

It’s Odliv!

And into the light comes Arthur leading your two horses as he rides Montana.

You exhale and lower your gun. “Why didn’t you call out?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, the tension still evident.

Arthur dismounts with a grace that belies his size, tethering the horses before he steps into the firelight. His blue eyes catch the flicker of the flames, reflecting a flicker of relief when he sees you safe. "Didn't want to alert anyone that we’re here. Not knowin’ what could be out there…”

You nod, understanding his caution, but your body still trembles from the adrenaline. The marshlands are no place for the faint-hearted at night. “Could have shot you, you know…”

Arthur notices your shaken posture once he turns from removing the bridles from all the horses. He takes your pack and his and walks across the wooden plank that leads up the boat and you go down the steps that lead to the roof to meet him.

Setting everything down, he takes you by the waist, his hands reassuring and his presence like a mountain to protect you against the wind.

“I’m sorry, Kitten.”

You shrug. “It’s alright.”

He nods towards the cabin. “You ready for bed?” You yawn and lean into him and he wraps his arms around you. “I guess I didn’t need to ask.” Letting you go, he goes to pick up your things again and he follows you into the sleeping quarters.

It is tight but cozy, and it will make do for now. Lighting the lantern that hangs, you are able to navigate your way around and sit yourself on the bed. Arthur closes the small curtain to the entrance and after setting your pack on the bed beside you, he begins to remove his clothes, his back turned to you.

You waste no time in taking off your shirt, glad to be rid of the ridiculous uniform. You tuck your chin as you undo each button, not realizing that Arthur has turned around and is watching you.

“What’s that?” he asks.

You look up to see him staring at you. He has managed to remove his jacket, vest, neckerchief, and shirt, exposing his chest hair and rippling pectorals.

You shrug. “What’s what?”

He then points a forefinger at you, towards the bandage around your chest. “That.”

You look down then back up. “It was…to make sure no one knew I was a woman.”

“I knew somethin’ was different when you were in all that get-up.” He stares at it for a moment, then shakes his head. “I’m just glad it weren’t because you got hurt.”

You smile. “No. Just all part of the disguise. I think it worked.” You look down and chuckle. “Not that it was too hard to do given what little I have to work with.”

He walks toward you, his shoes soft on the wooden floorboards. "Don’t be sayin’ things like that." He stops in front of you, his hands gently touching the edge of the bandage. "You need help takin' this off?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling the tightness around your chest release as Arthur carefully unwinds the bandage. Your breath catches slightly from the relief of pressure, and the cool air of the houseboat’s cabin brushes against your skin, soothing the lines left by the tight fabric. "Thank you," you murmur, allowing yourself a moment to revel in the tender yet firm touch of his fingers.

He doesn’t speak, his gaze focused on the task at hand until your breasts are free from the confines of the bandaging. You watch him as he gathers the bandage and sets it aside. His eyes meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face. It’s a look that mixes wonder with a hint of sadness, the kind you’ve seen before when he’s lost in thought about the past. “It ain't true you know,” he says softly. 

“What isn’t?”

“You—your—” he stammers, then shakes his head, not finishing his thought. “Better?” he asks, his voice deep and smooth like the rolling hills of the Heartlands. 

You just sit there, chest bare and eyes intensely watching him as his eyes roam your body. He eyes your breasts, then quickly shifts his gaze back to your eyes, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“You’re adorable,” you say. “Blushing like that…” He looks down, avoiding your gaze and you reach over and take him by the wrist. “Don’t you know you get me blushing, too?”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours, a tentative smile forming on his lips. "Suppose we're a pair then," he says, voice low with a teasing lilt.

You let his wrist go and taking your nightgown, you begin to put it over your head.

“No—” you hear Arthur say, but he stops himself.

You lower the nightgown and meet his eyes. “What?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Nevermind…it’s…”

“What is it, Arthur?”

“It’s somethin’ we’ve…” You can see he’s struggling to say what’s on his mind, either for fear of upsetting you or something else.

“Tell me.”

He turns his gaze back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. Your heart sinks at the sight, knowing that what he is about to say will be a sadder part of your past. "The last day, before everything went wrong in Blackwater, we snuck away for one last moment alone," he begins, his voice laced with nostalgia and regret.

Your mind reels through memories, trying to remember that day and anticipate what comes next. His cheeks flush pink with embarrassment as he struggles to find the words. You steady yourself, bracing for whatever revelation may come.

"We didn't...you know...do what we usually did. You wanted to try somethin’ different," he admits, his gaze shifting away from yours.

Your heart skips a beat, unsure of what this could mean. But you remain still and patient, waiting for him to continue.

"We were both…wearin’ nothin’ and just...held each other," he finally confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

A wave of relief washes over you as you realize it was nothing more than innocent affection shared between two lovers. Yet, the bittersweet revelation lingers in your mind, knowing that it was your final intimate moment before everything changed.

You smile, tilting your head. “That sounds…nice.”

You see the look on his face and the relief in his eyes. “I just…sometimes when I look at you, it’s like I’d just stolen one of Michaelangelo’s sculptures.” His voice grows softer, as he becomes more comfortable saying these things to you. “I love how you make me feel…the way you feel…but sometimes…sometimes I just wanna look at you for as long as I can before you…” Then he stops.

You feel your heart catch in your chest. You know what he means. What he still fears. You so badly want to reassure him you aren’t going anywhere. That you both really will make it out this time. Together.

You rise to your feet and silently remove your pants. Shaking them off and setting down your pack on the floor, you climb back on the bed. Laying on your back you look at your husband, who still has his eyes cast to the floor.

“Mr. Morgan…” you say softly and you wait for him to meet your eyes. When he finally lifts his head to look at you, you hold out your hand. “Come lie with me.”

He smiles softly at your tenderness and as he makes his way over to you, removing his dress shoes and pants on the way. He douses the lantern’s light and after climbing onto the bed with you, he fits himself in the contours of your shape and rests his head in between your breasts. You feel his steady breath on them as he nuzzles up close.

You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the coarseness mixed with the softness, just like the man himself. The room is filled with a peaceful quiet, a rare luxury in the precarious lives you lead. His arm wraps firmly around your waist as if to ensure you can't just vanish into thin air, even though you both won’t ever have the desire to let that happen.

“You used to complain then, too…” he speaks, his lips tickling your flesh.

“Complain?”

“About your figure. Too wide hips and too small of a chest.”

You can see that. You remember those Italian women and the looks they gave you. “Sounds like me.”

“Well, I thought I oughta tell you what I told you then, so you won’t forget this time.”

And you chuckle softly. “What would that be?”

“That it ain’t true. That you’re as perfect as the sunrise on a clear mornin’.” He pauses, lifting his head just enough to kiss the skin just above your heart. “And every bit as necessary.”

A small laugh escapes you, and you feel the warmth from his kiss and his words fill your very soul.

He rests his head back in his favorite place and nuzzles into you once more. “Don’t forget that,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with raw honesty. “Okay?”

“Alright, Arthur,” you answer and you feel his breath slow into restfulness. “I won’t.”

Thank you so much for reading!

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[amber-michaelson]

The Gift Of Eywa

Neteyam x Na'vi reader

Summary: becoming the main protector of Pandora eywa decides to gift you something you've been missing.

Read At Own Risk

Warning: breeding, protective neteyam.

Yn pov

Returning to camp after another successful attack against the sky people only 2 dead and afew injured of our people "feed the ilus and ikrans they'll be hungry" I said as I landed, it was only a month after neteyam's death I left to start my own clan but not only of Omaticaya but Metkayina too, we built our resting place on the cliff side at the edge of the forest for the Omaticaya people to be close to the forest and the Metkayina can reach the water, we've become the most feared clan for the humans no matter how hard they can try we were always a step ahead, but not only that Norman, Toruk Makto friend joined us with the rest of the dream walkers "outstanding job yn they've cut back on the deplanetation instead focusing on projecting their base" norm laughed walking out of their lab in his human form "then that's what we hit next" I murmured stretching out my back as I walked to my tent placing down my bow at the door sighing sadly as I walked into my tent it was hard without him he would've been the best chèf for this type of thing, he's learn both the Omaticaya and Metkayina way of hunting

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Back At the Metkayina Village▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Ma neteyam" neytiri cried hugging her son as the village started to crowd around her gasping as they saw the fallen son of Toruk Makto "thank you ewya thank you" she chanted rocking her and her son back and forth "what's goi-" jake froze as he saw his eldest son so did their other children who trailed behind him "neteyam" he said covering his mouth as tears ran down his face "how".

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎back to you▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Staring down at the ongoing celebration, there was singing, dancing and laughter but I couldn't face it, not to night "you should be down there yn you're the one to lead this clan to victory" krykan one of our most talented warriors said as he emerged from the shadows "i don't feel like celebrating but you should go and have fun" i said tensing as he sat beside me i never really liked him, he was always lurking close to me and when I talk to the other hunters he always interrupts and no matter how much I give him a hint he still wants to mate with me "but I celebrate better with you around" he slurred as he winked at me, it took my entire being not to cringe "kryk-" "no I know what your going to say and you can't keep denying me yn I am thee most talented hunter in this clan and I have been trying to mate with you and you keep denying me so heres the deal if you don't have a mate within a month your mine" "and if I do get a mate" I asked angrily "then I'll fight them"he muttered getting up and walked off 'great now another thing to worry about'.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎time skip the day of the end of the deal▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

I snuck off early for my patrol I'm gonna try my hardest to ignore krykan for the day his obsession with me has gotten worse now I was able to speak to the other hunters without him being a few feet behind me and his intense stare on whoever I'm speaking to "freedom" I say as I reached a safe enough distance from the village breathing in the fresh air as if it was something new I knew if i mated with krykan the clans downfall would begin, he doesn't even listen to my battle plans now it would just get worse after we mated with neteyam he did not only listen to my plans but gave me advice on certain things 'i wish you were here neteyam'.

Neteyam pov

I finally arrived at yns village glancing around amazed at what she's accomplished "neteyam" my gaze quickly moving over to Norman "I can't believe my eyes" he smiled as he came closer "yn is gonna be soo happy when she gets back" he laughed "yn you mean my mate Norman" I turned to the unfamiliar voice my eye twitching as he said 'my mate' "who the hell are you" I muttered straightening up "oh look so tough" he mocked "the names krykan best hunter of the clan and the future chief" he grinned sticking out his arms gesturing to the whole village "yn already has a mate she doesn't need a new one" I muttered and hissed he smirked as he got my reaction but a yns call got our attention my breathing hitching as she lands jumping off her ikran and froze as she saw me "neteyam" she murmured I was about to say something but a punch was landed on my lower draw sending me a few steps back "she's mine" krykan hissed as he went for me again but swiftly dodging and kicked him in the ribs making him fall to the ground I quickly punched him in the nose surly breaking it but also sending his head back against the ground hard making him scream in pain "next time don't go for someone else's mate dickhead" I spat before running to yn and wrapped my arms tightly around her as she cried into my chest "I thought I lost you I thought I lost you" she hiccuped as her hands gripped my shoulders "I'm here yn" I smiled sadly kissing her head as I turned to take her to her hut after asking norm for directions "wow" I murmured as I entered her hut, her crys finally settling, her hut was like the one she had at home except for a few extra things here and there "I'm gonna lay you down yn" I whispered into her ear and made my way over to her bed, she whined as I layed her down "don't leave me" I chuckled as she made grabby hands towards me "don't worry I'm never going to leave you again" I murmured as I layed down beside her.

Yn pov

I snuggled into his warmth and smiled as he wrapped his arms around me "I missed you so much" I whispered "I missed you to my mate" he said and lifted his hand to guide me to look at him "so so much" he murmured and leaned over and kissed me deeply "neteyam" I whined as he pulled away "what" he chuckled and climbed on top of me softly growling as he looked me up and down "oh fuck how I missed you" he muttered before smashing his lips to mine roughly and his hands began to grab and squeeze "mine" he growled against my lips "yours" I replied and moaned aloud as his knee rubbed up against my pussy "fuck I need you neteyam" I whined rocking my hips into his "I'm going to breed you" he muttered rubbing off mine and his clothes and not wasting any time and lubed up his cock with my juices "I'm gonna enjoy this" he groaned and pushed inside me causing me to arche my back "fuck" we both moaned, he started thrusting hard and fast as his hands playing with my boobs his eyes gazing down at me with hunger "I want you full with my seed" he panted his thrusts never changing pace "fuck" I mewled my fingers and toes curling as I cum "fuck that was fast" he groaned but spasmed as I clenched around him and his seed coating my walls "fuck neteyam" I moaned leaning my head back "oh baby I still got a few more rounds".

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[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 13

AND WE'RE BACK FOR A FOURTH TIME. It's that lovely time of the year where I write mediocre smut with no plot for a whole month. So sit your ass down and take a few minutes to read some smut.

As always, kinktober is held by our local Napoleon simp, @xxsycamore

If you'd like to read the last three years, go here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you think

Fetish Clothing | Striptease

You groan to yourself as you walk down the hall with a basket. You've been assigned to do laundry too many times this week. You know it's either you or Sebastian who does it, but would it really be so hard to ask the guys to drop their clothes off in the laundry room?

The worst part about it is having to go room to room and collecting it all. You're going to half to talk to Sebastian about this.

You stopped in two rooms since you knew they would be empty. Now into Vincent's room. It was a bit cloudy outside so you knew he'd be in there painting. You knock on his door.

"Yes?"

You push the door open and come inside setting the basket down. "Morning, Vincent."

Just as you thought, he's at his easel painting away.

"Good morning," he doesn't look away from his canvas. He must be working on smaller details with how close he is to it. "Does Sebastian have you doing laundry again?"

"Yeah," you groan loudly.

Walking over to the other side of Vincent's room, you reach into the hamper he has and grabs his clothes.

Vincent is one of the few where you don't mind just grabbing his clothes. Now Dazai? You have no clue where he has been. You aren't touching those.

Vincent let out a soft chuckle. "Hopefully you won't have to-"

He stops mid-sentence as he looks over at you. You simply assume you didn't hear him.

"What was that?" You turn around to look at him and notice that his face is flushed. "Hm? Is something wrong?"

As embarrassed as he is, he can't look away or hide behind his canvas. "Are...are those new pants?"

You look down at when you are wearing. They are a pair of shiny pleather pants. You have had them for a while but never found a reason to wear them, so you decided to just wear them.

"I mean, sort of," you stick your leg out looking at the shiny pleather. "Do you like them?" You get excited, and spin around for him. "They can be a pain to get on but I love how they look."

Vincent can't help but stare. He's always seen you in skirts or looser pants, nothing so tight on your body. He mumbles something but you can't make it out.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing! They look great on you!"

He smiles at you as you walk closer and kiss him.

"You really like them?" you sound as if you don't believe him. As if he's just telling you that you look good.

"I really like them," he kisses you back. With a paint brush still in hand, his hand rests on your hip. "But I'm worried," he pouts.

"Worried? About what?"

"The others seeing you," as he says that his hand slides back to grab your ass.

Now you're the one that's flushed. You always forget how possessive Vincent is. He doesn't like when anybody the other guys touch you. Even Theo is on a thin line. You hadn't thought of how different these pants are to the rest of your wardrobe.

With his hand behind you, he pulls you closer, not minding the bit of laundry in your arms.

"Arthur and Dazai are out," those are really the only two you need to worry about. "There's no need to-"

You get cut off by him holding you tighter.

"They'll still see you," he pouts more, seeming more annoyed by that fact.

"I'll be out of them by dinner, alright?" He seems to think about it for a moment but then nods. You give him another kiss. "Good~ Besides, it took me too long to get them on, I don't want them off yet. Unless if you'll help me take them off."

That seems to snap Vincent out of his jealousy. "Well- I- um- if-if you need help."

His hand comes forward, resting in your hip again, his thumb rubbing back and forth between the pleather and your skin.

"I might," you giggle and walk over to your back and drop the clothes in. "Have fun painting," you pick up the basket and leave his room, closing his door a bit.

Vincent's face stays flushed for a while, which is better than the jealous thoughts from before.

~~

Just as you promised, you changed into a normal pair of pants for dinner. You didn't want to change out of them, but then again it was probably the safer option. Who knows what you were going to hear while you were serving dinner.

Besides, a compliment from Vincent is the best thing you could get. You don't want it ruined by something someone else is going to say, and some of the guys here have a very unique way of saying things.

Once everything is cleaned up and put away you hurry to your room. You've had an idea in the back of your head all day and you want to try it out. But you will have to be quick and pray no one is in the hall.

You get changed and grab the robe off the back of your door and put it on. You tie it shut then leave your room.

Once you knew the coast was clear, you hurried down to Vincent's room and knocked on his door. You are now realizing that the one thing you didn't plan for was Theo possibly being in his room.

Since the doors closed he shouldn't be, right?

"Come in."

You quickly open the door, and then close it behind you. A small breath of relief leaves you when you see Vincent is by himself. He is sitting on his couch, sketchbook and pencil in his hand.

Vincent gives you a puzzled look. "Why are you in your bathrobe?" His head even tilts a little as he asks.

"I wanted to show you something, and I wanted to be sure no one else got to see."

His puzzled look doesn't go away. It eases, but doesn't disappear.

You untie the bathrobe and let it drop, showing yourself in a lingerie top and a shiny pleather skirt. Vincent immediately gets red and the pencil falls out of his hand.

As you walk towards him you are pretty sure his jaw has dropped too. The top is fairly sheer and isn't covering much.

He quickly manages to move the book and pencil. He was about to stand up but you say in his lap, your arms drape over his shoulders. Vincent's hands immediately went behind you to grab your ass over the pleather.

Just as you thought. With the way he was looking at you earlier, you had a feeling it was the pleather he liked.

"You should have told me sooner you wanted to see me in this."

"I didn't think you already owned some."

You move yourself further into his lap and kiss him. You feel him getting harder under you. Tilting your head to the side you kiss him rougher and starts to rock your hips.

It doesn't take much to get him to moan. Kissing you back just as rough, he lifts up the back of the skirt to grab your ass. That's when he realizes there's nothing under the skirt.

You moan into his mouth as he squeezes your ass harder. Your hands fall from his shoulder, down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. Eagerly, you start unbuttoning them and pulling them down.

Vincent lifts his hips just enough to push them down. You lift yourself slightly and help him. His hands go right back to touch you, this time they hold onto your waist, grabbing at you, giving you a slight massage.

When you settle back down, his cock slides right into you getting you both to moan. You rock your hips a few times to adjust to him, but then go right into bouncing on him.

To stop himself from moaning too loud, Vincent starts kissing you again, rougher, nibbling your bottom lip. His hands travel up to grope your boobs. They bounce with you and he couldn't help but grab them.

As you come down on him harder, you moan louder, even kissing him isn't hiding it. Your arms go over his shoulders again. One holds onto him while another hand goes in his hair, lightly tugging it.

You pull his hair enough to break the kiss. He whines. He wanted to keep kissing you but you keep your lips just far enough apart.

His hands drop, holding you by your hips now, squeezing into the pleather. He suddenly holds you down on him so he can thrust up into you.

Not expecting it you yell and hold onto him tighter.

"V-Vincent!" You bite your lip trying to keep quiet. You only closed the door when you should have locked it. You've been walked in on before, hopefully that was a lesson learned.

Your legs start to shake as he thrusts harder. His grip loosens and helps you keep going up and down while he still thrusts up.

"Ahh-hh. I'm... I'm close," you rest your head down onto his shoulder, starting to pant. At this point Vincent is doing most of the work. Your legs feel like jelly.

It only takes a few more moments before you climax, only creating more lube for his cock to slide easier. But after that he cums not long after, holding you down on his lap as he fills you.

His grip on you loosens and you stay sitting on him as you both try catching your breath. You whine here and there when feeling his cock twitch in you.

Walking in with no underwear was a great idea, but now you're going to have cum dripping down your leg if you want to go back to your room and change.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Augusnippets, Day 8: Reunion

cw: aftermath of torture

previous // next

for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 461

=~=~=

Kaius was curled on his side when someone entered the room. The smugglers had cut off his jumper after the interrogation left it soaking wet, but he was still shivering, trying hard not to swallow and spike new pain in his throat. Really, he was trying not to move at all, but when he heard footfall behind him, he couldn't keep himself from flinching, hissing out a wince as his knee and shoulder throbbed.

“Fuck.”

Harbor? Kaius grit his teeth, trying to find a way to turn around in a way that didn't hurt, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don't move. I got it.”

He let himself fall limp, wondering if this was just a dream. He couldn't be so far gone so quickly, could he? No, but it was bizarre to believe that Harbor, of all people, had come to his rescue. He would've sworn the other man would sooner leave him to rot, but here he was, proving the grievances between them were at the least too petty to leave him to die.

Harbor's fingers went to his wrists, working at the knotted rope.

Was he here alone?

“Jer…” Talking hurt, words raking their way up his throat to escape into the air. Kaius grit his teeth. “Jericho? Joy?”

“They went after Ruebin,” Harbor said. “I was s’posed to stay back at the base, but…” He swallowed. “Dunno. I knew something went wrong for your mission. Knew I was the only one who could find you.”

Kaius refused to be touched by the knowledge. The six of them were on the same team. It was foolish to assume even Harbor would abandon him; he was an asset. Anyone else would do the same. He'd do the same for Harbor. It didn't mean anything, and it didn't change anything between them.

His arms soon fell free at his sides, and Harbor moved to work on his ankles.

“Think you can walk? I can see it hurts.”

Anyone could probably see it hurt, but Kaius assumed Harbor was referring to some implant effect. He gave a small shake of his head, deciding honesty was more crucial than pride in the moment.

“Okay. Dunno when they'll be back. We gotta go fast. Try not to scream about it.”

He propped himself into a kneel, scooping Kaius into his arms and banking for the door. The way the motion jostled his injured joints didn't feel wonderful, but Harbor was surprisingly gentle, cradling him like he were something made of glass.

Even merely thinking of speaking again made his throat burn, but Kaius forced the words out anyway. Harbor’d earned that much.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Kaius almost cracked a tired grin at that. There was the Harbor he knew.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I was re-reading your 'Ragtag Group Of Kids' fic and when I came to the bit in Chapter 2, where the Peacekeeper is talking about who out of all the Peacekeepers he doesn't like that he can pin blame on for letting Teslee and Sheaf go, it gave me an idea for an escape AU that I had to share.

This gets long, so sorry.

Now the Peacekeepers obviously work and live together in close quarters, even in the Capitol. Which means that they're almost constantly together and while it can make people close and bond, it can also create tension and bad blood, especially when personalities clash. Add in to the Peacekeepers possibly being underpaid, overworked and understaffed, which never leads to a happy environment, they're also tired and stressed and clashing and arguing with one another as they begin to guard the tributes for the 10th Games.

And the tributes pick up on that tension immediately and plot to use it to help them escape. They start by telling various Peacekeepers when they're alone guarding what their co-workers are saying about them behind their backs. Either by getting a tribute to say it to their face as a 'favour/letting them know as a thank you' or gossiping amongst themselves about what the others are saying about them loudly and near the Peacekeeper so that they'll overhear. And while some of them at first might dismiss it as it's coming from District children, what they are saying though sounds very similar to what the people the tributes said that they heard it from has said to them in the past and so rather unwillingly, a seed of doubt is planted in their minds.

Then, once the initial seed is planted, the tributes kick it up a notch by talking about the other cruel things that their co-workers are saying about them, the remarks slowly getting crueler and more cutting, causing tension amongst the Peacekeepers. Maybe one or two like Treech or Sheaf sneak out and steal some belongings like money or food and put it with the supplies of another Peacekeeper that they don't get on with, implying that they stole it and play other mind games as well to cause further tensions among the Peacekeeper's ranks.

Then comes the day of the Games, tensions between the Peacekeepers as they round the tributes up to take them into the Arena are at an all time high. And then the tributes do something to a Peacekeeper then they're not looking that looks like it was done by another Peacekeeper. Something small and not noticed by a camera or another Peacekeeper but that's the straw that breaks the camel's back in a sense as two of them start fighting and the others get sucked into as well, forgetting about the tributes.

It's carnage.

And all that the Capitol, the Mentors and Gaul can do is watch as the Peacekeepers, their guards, their supposed brave serious dignified protectors, are basically arguing and fighting and trying to kill one another with their bare hands, while the tributes are fleeing the scene. They're never found afterwards and the Capitol, and the Peacekeeper force as a whole, never lives it down.

What do you think?

Well first of all thanks for reminding me to finish the next chapter of the thing, I’m gonna get on that after lunch.

Second of all…

Genius

Fucking genius

I’ve been wondering for a while on how the kids could get the peacekeepers to accidentally let the kids go themselves and I have a few ideas I’m working through to maybe post, but none of them are as plausible as this by a landslide. I think arrangements like peacekeeper barracks would cause cliques, especially, because when you don’t gell well with people you stick with those you do get along with. So I feel like the tributes would have like- a super late at night or super early in the morning tribunal to decide how well the proceedings are going and whether to push further or back off a bit depending on the reception of their meddling. Just imagine them sitting in a circle discussing how next to mentally torture their tormentors.

I think the tributes who’d do most of the direct interacting would be ones with bad mentors like Panlo, Facet, Treech, and Brandy. They have the most reason to dislike their mentors, some of them don’t even get fed by their mentors, so turning to a peacekeeper wouldn’t be too out of place for them if they need something. They’ll act the part of scrappy streed kids and ask for maybe water or food and of course they’re rejected at first, but then they sweeten the pot by offhand mentioning they understand why so and so doesn’t like them now. If they do get the help, they wonder about how this person could possibly have such a problem with that peacekeeper, because they’re just so nice. It’s small things like that to slowly get the peacekeepers suspicious of each other, but not enough to confront anyone. Then, once the seed’s had some time to take root, they start tearing allegiances apart by spreading just the teensiest bit of doubt about the tightness of these cliques. Less explicit, but still implicating enough to cause problems.

Treech and Sheaf teaming up to cause havoc is food for my soul, lets add Bobbin and Mizzen to the equation too. Treech and Sheaf, being more acrobatically inclined, do the mission impossible esque moves to retrieve whatever item they need and hide in nooks and crannies to overhear any possible info to exploit, while Bobbin and Mizzen cause distractions to help elevate the paranoia they’re instilling in these men. It has the added bonus of giving Treech and Sheaf the opportunity to steal and “misplace” items only other peacekeepers should be able to even go near, let alone take.

I love the bit in the arena the most. My personal preference for what they’d do is have Treech and Sheaf pocket some items on the first day to make absolutely sure the owners are aware of the theft and at least one of them will be bringing the kids to the arena. The day comes, and Treech notices neither him or Sheaf are being near one of the people they stole from, so he deliberately causes a struggle in an “attempt to escape” which gets more peacekeepers near him, as he suspected. He hooks the item he stole, a keychain he overheard had sentimental value to the owner, to the belt loop of the guy holding him and just barely hides his smirk as he’s shoved to the ground and kicked in the stomach. It’s a price he’s glad to pay, especially if it saves Sheaf the trouble. Ironically, it’s that kick that made the keychain rinkle, drawing the attention of its actual owner, and a fight starts.

Now I’m imagining the mentors watching the tributes first escape from the fight, then book it outside as fast as they can, and how they’d react. There’s definitely a bit of anger on the parts of mentors like Livia, Gaius, and Arachne, but a lot of mentors are secretly cheering. Maybe some like Coryo (for monetary reasons) and Vipsania (for pride reasons) are conflicted, but they are ultimately glad their tribute’s alive even if it means losing the prize. Oh the Capitol lives in shame of what happened for the rest of it’s existence, but luckily Sejanus managed to snag a copy of the camera footage before the records were burned. I think the kids would probably live just outside of Panem for a bit in their own little village, but they often visit their homes, families and friends until it’s safe to stay there again. Even if they return to their districts permanently, they make sure to keep in touch with each other somehow.

I’m torn on whether some of the mentors would find and visit them? They’d only find them because the tributes wanted to be found, of course, but I wonder if it might be an even better idea to have them just never be sure of what happened to their tributes so they have to live with that unsurety. Especially mentors who grew to care but were shitty in the beginning and now will never have the chance to apologize for it or make it right.

These have been my extremely unorganized thoughts about this amazing idea, excuse me while I go eat breakfast-lunch 💜

[carefulfears]

Top 5 msr hand holds <3

below the cut because you know i'm gonna TALK.

1. closure

the two of them sitting in that coffee shop, both cups in front of them untouched, filled to the brim, reading samantha’s journal. bearing witness to the suffering of this little girl. they are in this moment together. they have been in this moment together since he looked at her and told her “nothing else matters” to him, seven years ago in that motel room.

for the past seven years, scully’s job has been to play the skeptic, to argue against the paranormal theories that his grief leads him to. later that night, she stands outside the door of the last person to see samantha alive, and prays for aliens.

they’ve been in this together for the better part of a decade and they’re sitting in a coffee shop reading the truth they’ve been looking for, how devastatingly human the evil of it was, and she looks at him with tears in her eyes and squeezes his hand.

2. redux ii

one of the few moments in the series where you see scully break…scully defines herself so completely in loyalty. in following him, in being ahab’s starbuck, in being her captain father’s first mate.

in this moment, mulder is heading off to a hearing where he will be testifying to details of the conspiracy and against members of the FBI. this is It. this is The Truth. this is The Quest that they’ve been working on for five years. the dutiful first mate would send him on his way.

scully clings to his hand. she doesn’t want to lose any more time (nine minutes in bellefleur was enough). she can’t believe either of them are going to go through the next few hours, the last few hours, without each other.

she might not be there when he returns, she’ll be the next on the list of people to have disappeared behind his back, and he’s kissing her cheek and casually cracking jokes, and she‘s desperate to hold on for just a moment longer.

3. tithonus thumb war

one, two, three, four…we die next to each other or never at all. what’s immortality next to a mindless game with your best friend?

scully asked fellig, “how can you have too much life? what about love?”

he answered, “love lasts 75 years, if you’re lucky. you don’t want to be around when it’s gone.”

in a story about the grief of eternal life, waking up in that hospital, i don’t see scully taking on the quest to give it up.

4. dreamland

the central question of this episode, becomes the central question of the rest of the series: don't you ever want to get out of the car?

while they may be years from stepping away from the car long enough for that house and "normal life" that scully laments driving past, for a moment they stand in front of it.

they gaze up at lights in the sky the way they did on their second case together, the way they did in antarctica, and he reaches wordlessly for her. half "scully, you gotta see this" and half "stay here on the ground," it's an instinct that doesn't disappear with their memories.

it's like that thing DD said once, "there is no such thing as that story ever ending. those characters are forever searching. that’s what they do. even if we’re not watching them, they’re out there."

they'll get back in the car and they'll "just keep driving," for years and for decades and for the rest of their lives, because they'll forever be searching. and when there's something to see, they'll reach for each other.

5. pusher

"smile, scully."

kneeling down before her to surrender his weapons, he meets her worried eyes with a calm smile.

this episode is all about palpable tension and anxiety, about walking into a losing battle without control of the stakes, and it's most visceral in scully from the moment they decide to send mulder in alone.

but before she nervously watches a surveillance screen, before she jumps up the moment the feed cuts out, before she runs in after him, before she screams at a serial killer and cries out to him in fear...she quietly looks down at him, the way she has so many times before, and keeps his hand still. steadies them both, holds them both in this moment.

the emotional arc of this episode is bookended with touch, and more than the absolution in the way she reaches for his hand in the final scene, it's this moment that simplifies it to me. it's the calm before the storm, and the time that's taken in the midst of it all, to pause outside influence while they still can.

(BONUS: Fight The Future)

reaching out to him as she recommits, parroting back his own words to him. she has memorized everything that he has ever said and it is the two of them in this work, in this fight.

if they quit on each other now, they lose.

+ ghouli