#I think someone called it 'Fucked up horse one piece' once

[loonalatency]

So im finally nearing the end of my reread/listen of project horizons... and finally finishing it this time (damn 1.7 million words is a lot)

I know it gets a lot of hate for being stupidly long, dark, violent, and kinda rediculously over the top, But I love it for that, and honestly when you take that in stride its a really fun story and its got so much heart and a lot of well written characters and soo sooo much lore.

Weirdly enough it also has some of the best plural representation ive seen personally... Rampage is basically an artificially created DID system, Sure she's not really the most morally upstanding or mentally stable (because wasteland), but its not just the same old Jeckyll and Hyde style that's done to death, which i think is a good change of pace.

Also got a lot of stuff about dealing with relationship issues, mental health struggles, addiction, sexuality, forgiveness, dealing with loss, Sense of and loss of self, and so much more.

Its definitely not a perfect story, some parts are poorly edited, overly long and rambling, repetitve, or just way too unnecessarily cruel and fucked up.

despite all that I still fully reccomend reading or listening to it if you're brave enough to read a fallout themed pony fanfiction thats almost half a million words longer than homestuck.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder. 

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up. 

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day. 

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times. 

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful. 

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards. 

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.” 

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?” 

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone. 

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant. 

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone. 

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle. 

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall. 

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder. 

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day. 

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well. 

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies. 

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing. 

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you. 

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place. 

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay. 

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.” 

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words. 

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison. 

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek. 

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with. 

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished. 

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit. 

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway. 

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.” 

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’. 

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[wufflesvetinari]

ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - @grey-wardens. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

[anonymous-dentist]

Part two of the Catboy in the Village AU

-

Cellbit wakes up handcuffed, which really doesn't bode well.

He's... moving. He's sitting up with his head pillowed on something soft, yet firm, and he's moving.

Ah. So he has been kidnapped, then. Great.

Groaning, Cellbit hides his face in his pillow's shoulder, confident that he isn't sticking his face anywhere it shouldn't be. He knows this shoulder, it's one of his favorites.

"Buenos días, gatinho," Roier warmly says. A kiss lands itself in Cellbit's hair right between his ears.

Cellbit fights the urge to purr (not now!), and he murmurs, "Am I going to be angry when I open my eyes?"

"Mmm, probably."

Cellbit sighs. So it's like that, then.

Eyes still closed, he pricks his ears up and tries to take in his environment. Horses, someone guiding them. Wheels noisily turning. Roier breathing, Cellbit himself breathing, someone else breathing. Three people total in the carriage- because they have to be in one, Cellbit doubts a supposed "prince" would be left to travel in a simple wagon.

Absolutely no signs of Richarlyson and Pepito. No arguing, no crying, no complaining. Nothing.

Slowly, Cellbit lets out a breath. He's calm.

"Roier," he asks, "where are our children?"

Roier stiffens minutely beneath him. "Um."

"Your children are fine," someone else says, and, ah, it would be her, wouldn't it?

Cellbit swallows his anger. He's calm.

He sits up, scooting closer to Roier so their arms are brushing because he is not about to be away from him right now. He opens his eyes, and he stares at the woman who has to be the newly-crowned Queen of the Gato Kingdom, and he hates.

"Your highness," he coolly says. "Where the fuck are my children?"

The queen's eyebrow twitches. "Don't call me that."

"Your highness. My children?"

"Not... with us at the moment, but I have my finest knights searching for them as we speak. Once we find them-"

She screeches as Cellbit lunges at her with his fangs bared. He can't use his hands, but that's fine, he was in prison once, he knows how to tear a throat out without using his claws.

He "oof"s as he's swiftly kicked in the chest by a heeled shoe and shoved back into his seat opposite the queen.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" the queen demands.

Cellbit answers her with a snarl and a second attempt at political assassination. This time, though, he's stopped by Roier, who grabs him around the middle with both arms and pulls him to his chest.

Immediately, Cellbit feels his body relax. Damnit.

"I told you you'd be angry," Roier hums.

He slips a hand under Cellbit's shirt and just leaves it splayed across his stomach. The queen looks mildly disturbed. What, is she homophobic, too? Rich and homophobic? Pick a struggle.

"Of course I'm angry," Cellbit sneers. He glares at the queen, who glares right back. "We've been kidnapped."

The queen rolls her eyes. "You aren't being kidnapped. You are being escorted."

"In handcuffs!"

"Yeah!" Roier agrees. "Only I can put my husband in handcuffs!"

The queen's face goes mildly green. Oh, so she is homophobic. Great.

Cellbit, though, groans and slams his head against Roier's shoulder. Roier just grins at him, the piece of shit.

"Well," the queen hesitantly says, "it was either this or ropes."

Roier protests, "Only I can put my husband in ro-"

He cuts himself off with a moan as Cellbit pinches his thigh.

"Cállate," Cellbit huffs. "She doesn't need to know."

"I really don't," the queen agrees, complete with a nod of the head. "You're my brother, I don't want or need to be hearing any of this."

(Not that the 'any of this' is real. The most extreme thing Cellbit and Roier have done in bed is play board games and lose the pieces in their blankets, but it's just so fun to make people uncomfortable.)

"I'm not," Cellbit tells her.

He tilts his head back and looks up at Roier. "Did you know that she thinks I'm the missing Gato Kingdom prince?"

Roier laughs. "What, really? You?"

Cellbit smiles. "I know, right?"

"I'm right here," the queen flatly says. "And you are my brother. His name is Cellbit, your name is Cellbit. You have feline features. Only members of-"

Cellbit finishes her sentence for her: "-the Gato royal family are cat hybrids. I know. But you're wrong."

The queen crosses her arms and her legs, her foot bouncing impatiently on the floor.

"Oh, yeah?" she asks. "How?"

"Because," Cellbit simply says.

Nothing else.

Roier snorts. He adjusts his hold on Cellbit, halfway pulling him onto his lap and hooking his chin over Cellbit's shoulder.

Cellbit looks down at Roier's very un-handcuffed hands and pouts.

"Why aren't you restrained?" he complains.

"Because I haven't tried to kill the queen," Roier smugly says. He pokes Cellbit's nose, making Cellbit go cross-eyed. "This is what you get, pendejo."

"Fuck you," Cellbit grumbles. "You didn't try to fight her a little? For me?"

"Nah. I killed all her knights, though."

Gods.

Cellbit's eyes practically glitter. "Wow. I bet you got real sweaty."

Roier nods. "And I took my shirt off."

Gods!!

Cellbit turns to glare at the queen. "You made me miss that!"

The queen's mouth opens in shock. "You tried stabbing me!"

"And you kidnapped me! I think stabbing you would've been worth it!"

"Calma, gatinho," Roier lightly says. He slips his other hand under Cellbit's shirt; his two hands link together, his thumb rubbing soothing little circles above Cellbit's bellybutton. "Don't threaten royalty when I don't have my sword."

"You aren't being kidnapped!" the queen shouts. "This could've gone a lot easier if you had just come with me to begin with!"

"And why the fuck would I do that?" Cellbit sneers.

"Because I'm your sister, idiot!"

"I'm an orphan, idiot!"

The queen bodily flinches, recoiling into the back of her seat with wide eyes and a trembling mouth.

Sensing a tense moment, Roier takes the opportunity to say, "You know, maybe he isn't your brother. Maybe I'm your brother, hm? Maybe my ears fell off in the war."

It's just the kind of statement that would blow Pepito's mind. Pepito, oh, Pepito...

Cellbit wants his kids.

The queen ignores Roier. She continues staring at Cellbit, instead.

"What happened to you?" she asks, voice hoarse.

Cellbit gives her a flat look in response. "What hasn't. I'm not who you think I am. I'm... me. You have the wrong guy."

He twists his wrists in his handcuffs. They're simple enough...

"This really isn't a good first impression," Roier adds.

As Roier continues speaking, Cellbit pops his thumb out of its socket and starts subtly pulling his hand through the cuff.

Roier says, "Like, I get you wanted to see him, but this is kinda fucked, you know? You couldn't have sent a letter? We could have had brunch, but, noooooo, you just had to show up like this and freak him out."

"I'm not freaked out," Cellbit grumbles.

(And now the other hand...)

"I didn't want it to be this way," the queen says. She looks painedly at Cellbit. "It's- I- we need you back, Cellbit. Our parents- the king and queen are both dead. You promised that you would help me when I took the throne. I've been looking for you for years, and-"

"Okay," Roier interrupts. "See? Talking's good. Gatinho, do you have anything to say?"

"Yeah," Cellbit replies. He looks at the queen, and he says, "Guapito, hold on."

He sticks his tongue out at the queen (childish, maybe, but she's pissing him off), and he slams himself against the carriage door.

And... nothing happens.

He smacks his head, and he sees stars, and he falls backwards onto the carriage's floor with a pained grunt.

The queen gives him a mocking look. "What, you didn't think I would lock the door? You really are my brother, dumbass. You haven't changed a bit."

Roier, at least, looks somewhat pitying.

"That would've been cool if it had worked?" he tries.

Cellbit just groans in response and drops his head back down onto the floor.

He used to be an escape artist. And now he's trapped in a carriage with an insane woman.

"Sit tight," the queen says, settling back into her seat and making sure to kick Cellbit in the side as she does so. "It's a long trip back to the castle."

"If I don't see my children when we're there, I'll actually kill you," Cellbit threatens.

Her lips quirk into a smirk. "You can try."

And he hates her.

[ryuzakemo128]

A letter for you

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x you, female reader

Content Warning: SA mentioned. Implied verbal abuse. Manipulation. The whole nine yards of deep and dark. Toxic parents.

Words: 623

Masterlist

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Note: Sequel to the headcanons.

You had to do it, didn’t you? You just had to do this shit to me. Even though you were having a taste of your own medicine. You had to make yourself into a martyred victim of some kind. Don’t try to deny it. I know for a fact you’re sitting there, reading this letter with a cocky smirk or grin, thinking, ‘I have him where I want him.’ No you don’t. You will get nothing from me.

Ever.

I heard you were running your mouth again. Saying shit about me behind my back. You wanted a reaction so badly to make yourself into an angel from the soul of an endless devil, I won’t fall to my knees and beg for you to come back. Crafting an angel from your bones when we all know you’re unfit to become one of your own accord.

I have grown since I left you. I have grown since I told you to leave my fucking apartment. Don’t lie about shit when you can’t help but suck cock while I’m gone. Don’t spin the truth like the records you trashed one afternoon, lying about it being a mistake.

You made vile comments about my past as a sexual assault victim. You made me hate myself more than I ever did. Fuck you and the horse you ride on. Or in your case cock.

Not only that, but you lied when you said you stopped seeing him.

Not only that, but you are a natural-born snake. A liar. A thief. I only just managed to steal back my heart you took from me when we first met.

I haven’t decided whether I want to forgive you. Maybe I’ll decide that forgiving you isn’t worth it. Maybe I shouldn’t forgive you anyway. Forgiveness is too good for you. You didn’t work to earn it. You didn’t bleed for it. Furthermore, you didn't sweat hard for it. You did nothing to get the right to be given it. I don’t want to hear more excuses, and for once in your life fix your god-damn plumbing issue with your shitty second toilet.

Come find me when you’re done fucking up the people around you. Come see me when you want to learn to grow the fuck-up and deal with the real world. As I have. As the rest of people down here. Until then, stay the fuck away from me.

Until you realise you are the cause of your own mistakes. I can’t take you back. I can’t risk my heart getting torn to pieces. My patience with you has officially ended, and my claws are about to come out. You have fucked with the wrong person. Don’t mistake this letter for a last kiss or last hurrah. I don’t have time to fucking deal with your mistakes. Fix them yourself, you petulant fucking child.

Go to therapy.

Make better life choices.

Actually, live a life instead of coasting along with whoever’s dick is inside of you right now. It won’t fix your so called ‘personality’. People will eventually get tired of your shit and leave you behind.

Fix your fucking front door lock. It’s loose and someone could easily break in to steal your shit. Fix it.

Instead of blaming your exes for leaving you. Question as to why they left you to begin with. Have some self-respect, woman, and look inward instead of outward.

Cut off your toxic parents. They don’t actually care about you, they just want to lord over you and insult your choices. Cut them out. Go no contact with them. Block their numbers, block them on social media. You don’t need them in the same way they need you. Cut off your toxic parents.

What we deserve and what we get are two different things.

Yours, in annoyed yet carefree, pleasant solitude, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

[grossnyucky]

Samsonite Headcanons

gonna put everything undercut, taking this from my comments on someone else's post so sorry if this is formatted weird i've never done anything like this </333

please feel free to tell me yalls headcanons too tbh

I like to think he's selective mute

his smile is his resting face which can make him hard to read initially

with that being said I think if he cares about you in our way traditionally, I think he takes the time to add nonverbal signals for his emotions

his ears twitch/move to show emotion, like a cat's (I think it would be easy for people to get confused what it means, which would end up with tales mixing which signals mean what for people who encounter him)

also giving him a small tail just cause, tails are fun

his favorite on brand is mtn dew :]

Samsonite likely inspired music in that universe, which would give more reasoning to drums/bass considering he likes a beat

that being said, I think he'd enjoy things like electro swing and would actively switch his dance style (enjoy the swing dancing mental image)

if y'all listen to music together that doesn't have much bass/beat I think it's slowly turn into pony by habit

he's a horse and I'm basing it off of the fact the song is Pony, do with that as you will

though all of his outfits have the overall and hat combo, I do think he also has the sagging pants and open shirt outfit on very rare occasions too (begging someone to draw this ngl)

I also want more people to draw his small fucked up form that appears during the exorcism, and whenever he tweaks out

on that note, he needs a host every once in a while. Taking liberties there I like to imagine it like Venom if he's weak enough/if a person is powerful enough

he calls you a doodoohead etc if you don't listen while he's in the backseat

this does probably mean being on a people's soul/on brand soda diet, so rip ur wallet probably

if you take his hat count your nanoseconds

Samsonite is playful/a tease, he likes to torment before taking people as a host or to his domain I feel like it's a given

if we go with the headcanon that he's a pig, he snorts for laughter

his domain reaches not only closets, drawers and bed undersides, but I also like to think this means any larger pieces of room furniture

he 100% uses this to jumpscare you or pulling you off the bed just cause

I think this would also allow him to travel via luggage

he can become pocket sized, let him have an iPod to listen to fr

he probably disappears for months at a time before coming back regularly, he's gotta feed

I think he'd adore scratches/pets

on that note watch out for biting or potentially ur soul being eaten (it's worth it though)

on the fence about how I see this, but I think touch is a one way street more often than not

but that could also be why he likes scratches and pets whenever he allows them

self-inflicted touch starved LMAO

if you think of him romantically, hear me out on doomed relationship cause technically he is one of the "great old ones"

denies each trip without taking you to the domain as stalling because he is attached but his survival needs mean more

using you as a host because in a way its a compromise, the best that both of your limits can offer anyway Anyway, I'm insane and if yall want something specific lmk :]

[mieczyhale]

if you don't live in the u.s you don't get to tell americans to do shit. and y'know what?? this goes for israelis too. if you don't live in israel shut your godamn mouth about what people who live there should or shouldn't be doing.

imagine if someone tried to tell you what you should be doing, when they don't live in your country and don't actually know as much as they think they do. i can't imagine you'd like that very much

oh and, since it's been forgotten or you're ignoring it when it suits you, people do not actually control what their government does. you act like we haven't tried, don't continue trying. like our effort isn't enough even when it ends in deaths. fuck you

and it's not a genocide. this one i know you're just showing your whole antisemitic ass about now because you have had plenty of time to educate yourself and refuse to (and no, you aren't antizionist. you're antisemitic. if a poc is calling you racist you're racist, if a jewish person is calling you antisemitic you're antisemitic. stop changing the rules just so you can feel justified in being a piece of shit)

the genocide expert (alice nderitu) was fired for sticking to the geneva convention definition of "genocide" (which concluded that israel was.. y'know.. not fucking doing that actually) and amnesty international admitted they came up with their own definition to include israel's actions.

once again:: your head is so far up propaganda's ass i'm amazed you haven't suffocated on all the shit, and believe it or not you really should take breaks from riding that high horse of yours

[ivoryghostyy]

「 image isn't mine. sourced from pinterest. 」

「 this was supposed to be a re-vamp of "love bite" but, well, i guess i got a bit too carried away. this one's pretty long, so have fun! 」

「 tw: possessive behaviour, swearing, non-consensual biting, mentions of blood, mentions/implications of violence — read with caution. 」

"don't touch that!"

crash!

"oops. :("

"oops? that's all you have to say- don't give me that look."

":("

"fuck you."

"ohhh, i like the sound of that-"

you groan in frustration, rubbing your throbbing temple. pieces of a broken flower pot lie carelessly on the tiled floor—a flower pot that was meant to house your newly grown Daffodils if someone could keep his hands to himself.

he frowns at your distress, snaking an arm over your shoulders to pull you in. his free hand rests snugly on the small of your back. right where it belongs.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. i'll get you a new one, okay?"

you shake your head, making your way through the array of potted plants within your shop. once your hand grasps the familiar wooden handle of your broom, you reply.

"no. it's alright. i can just order another one; it wasn't that expensive, anyway."

he hums, looking through his phone. at this point, you know he hadn't listened to a single word you said. he's been your closest friend for years. by now, he's probably-

"i got you a new set. they'll arrive in a few days. is that alright, honey?"

-already ordered another one. actually, he ordered more. you don't even need that many pots right now! you can feel another headache settling in.

"okay, whatever. what are you doing here, anyway?"

you sweep up the sad pieces of the flower pot, sending your Daffodils an apologetic look. 'i'm so sorry, my babies. i'll get you a new home soon, i promise.'

he watches the exchange, eyes squinting. you're no stranger to the look. you've seen it more times than you could count on two hands.

or, well, you assume that was the case. you're not really counting-

while you're cleaning his mess, the man in question leans idly on the counter.

'how strange,' he muses. he's seen the way you coddled your.. shrubs. for the last time, they're not shrubs!

maybe you were unknowingly born with the ability to talk to plants? or you simply have some form of connection with your babies, as you liked to call them.

or perhaps you've simply lost your mind ages ago, so you've convinced yourself that the shrubs- they aren't shrubs!!

-sorry, the not-shrubs could communicate.

wait, did you talk in his head?

you ignore his sudden confusion, opting to mourn over the loss of a perfectly good pot. fly high. you will be missed. after dumping the broken pot, you turn back to the insufferable man.

"you didn't really answer my question."

"what? am i not allowed to visit my favorite florist?"

"mind you, i am the only florist you know. besides, you're too busy to pay any unnecessary visits."

he laughs, muscles flexing as he pushes off the counter.

"alright, you got me. so you remember when i told you that i've found her?."

her? oh! he means his, uh, what did he call it? ah, right. his destined pair. pfft, that sounds cheesy as hell. why can't he be normal and say he fell in love?

"yeah? are you going to man up and tell her? you've been dancing around it for years; you haven't even introduced me yet!"

with a snort, he crosses his arms.

"well, sorry. i don't really find the need to introduce you."

eh? you take personal offense to that!

with a dramatic gasp, you clench the fabric of your top, right where your heart is.

"i've been your best friend for this long, dealing with your stupid ass for years, but you won't tell me who the love of your life is? i see how it is."

he smiles, "i.. don't think we'll still be friends after i tell you.."

what?

"don't tell me, is it my sworn enemy!? i can't believe you would settle for that-"

he denies it immediately, face scrunching in disgust.

"absolutely not. i would sooner choose to marry a horse."

you crack up at that, clutching your stomach as you laugh.

his eyes soften with a small grin. sometimes, he wonders what he'd done to deserve you.

you, with eyes that light up every time you see him. with that smile stretching your lips into a carefree curve; delighted and so full of life. you fill his heart with an immeasurable amount of love. if only you know what you do to him.

everything about you is so perfect. you're mesmerizing. you're his everything.

but he's not the only one.

just thinking of all the eyes who've dared to look at you..

his smile falls.

if only he could gauge their eyes out; or better yet, he could keep you all to himself. he'd mark you as his own, give you everything you could ever want or need. it isn't hard for him to do as he pleased.

but at what cost? you wouldn't be happy. you would hate him. but worst of all, he would hurt you.

and he couldn't hurt you. never.

and yet, as he watched a customer—another man—flirt with you, he couldn't help but rethink his choices. would it be better for him to take you, after all?

his eyes darken.

you're stuck.

after you had closed the shop, you were forced down.

he held your trembling wrists, firmly pressing them against the counter. 'his hands are cold,' you noted, breath hitching as he stared you down.

"look, i know i said 'fuck you' earlier, but i didn't mean for you to actually do so-"

"shut up."

you did.

he was mad, you could tell. frustrated, even.

why? did you do something wrong? were you being too mean earlier? did he find the secret stash of snacks you've been hiding from him-

you squeak when he hauls you up by the waist, fully lying you against the wide counter instead of the previous awkward position.

"w-wait, seriously, we can talk about this-"

you're cut off when he grips your chin, roughly forcing your eyes to meet his own.

"you know i don't like it when you avoid my eyes."

he's only an inch away from your face; his stare holds an intense wave of emotions. they swirl within his eyes, almost unreadable to you—but one stands out.

you lean your forehead against his, facing him head on. you don't avoid his eyes. you're not scared of looking directly at him, even in this situation. that might be another one of the reasons why he's fallen so hard.

"why're you hurting?"

his eyes crinkle as he grins. such a sweet human. no matter the circumstance, you never lose your heart. do you not find him threatening? he stares at the guilty little twinkle in your eyes. how can one be so cute.

you're not making this any easier for him, are you? he can barely control himself as is.

your eyes catch a glint, honing onto his sharp fangs.

what-

"ah, the cat's out of the bag."

his voice sends shivers down your spine, and unconsciously, you move back.

he doesn't allow it, however, as he guides you closer. his fingers draw up your leg, leaving a trail of heat despite the contrasting temperature of his hand.

he stops at your thigh, pulling it up to his hip.

he's so fucking close.

"i can feel you shaking, sweetheart. are you scared?"

you shake your head, but he's already caught the traces of fear that linger on your features.

"lying is a sin, love. weren't you the one who taught me that?"

the next moment is a blur.

he leans down, fangs poking the skin of your neck. dread settles into the pit of your stomach. the fear comes after; and then the panic sets in.

but it's already too late.

you whimper, biting your lip to distract you from the pure, unadulterated pain. your trembling hands find their way to the back of his shirt, tightly clutching the fabric.

you don't even realize that you're crying until he rubs your cheek, and you feel the tears sliding against your skin.

his fangs sink deeper, and the agonizing pain melts away, replaced with a growing heat in your abdomen. you stifle a moan, the metallic taste of your blood lingering on your bitten lip.

he keeps you against the counter, a hand tracing circles on your waist. suddenly, you're not scared anymore. your heart beats erratically, but you find nothing out of place. in fact, everything feels right.

a headache surfaces, and you groan into his shoulder as he pulls away. a drop of blood trails down your neck, but he licks it off. you shiver, feeling hyperaware of every movement.

he smiles at your dazed state. he rubs your head, pulling you closer when you bury yourself in his chest, nuzzling into his embrace.

his eyes trail down to the mark on your neck, and he grins with pride; kissing your temple.

you'll probably be mad when you're not dazed anymore..

no matter, he'll make it up to you later. right now, he can't wait to take you home.

[jadevine]

Horse knowledge, Tom Burke, and Game of Thrones when it was MOSTLY good.

Like many people, I've been devouring gif-sets from Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga with Tom Burke in them.

I am also constantly seeing "Tom Burke as Praetorian Jack" next to "Tom Burke as Athos" from The Three Musketeers, because Tom is also in that series. Such a hilarious contrast, lmao.

I'm betting his cast-mates just had a blast seeing him covered in dirt and gunning a War Rig through the Wasteland.

Apparently in The Three Musketeers, Tom could barely get off his horse, so the cameras had to keep cutting from "Tom is riding a horse" to "Tom is back on the ground! You saw how the other guys got off their horses, right??? That's... that's also how HE did it, yep!" and I have so many questions, lmao.

The Three Musketeers, and Tom Burke's adaptation of the novel called "The Musketeers," is a story set in the 1600s!

A lot of actors take a few weeks of riding lessons so they don't die when they get on a horse, because it's a great skill if you need to audition for a fantasy/period piece. If you end up in a LOT of fantasy/period pieces, you have a high likelihood of being an ACTUAL rider, like Viggo Mortensen.

In The Musketeers, Tom Burke is playing one of the titular musketeers, whose JOB is to ride horses and fight, so I'm guessing he got a BIT more instruction than "how to not die."

Dismounting a horse should NOT be hard, coming from a novice and very short horse rider! Right after your first hour of How To Not Die On A Horse, you switch one leg to the other side and jump off. And... yeah, that's it. That's all I can instruct people about "dismounting a horse" without having an actual horse to demonstrate. Details vary, but the basics are the same!

Normally if someone "can't get off the horse," it's because they're sick/injured or disabled, or because they're a young child who is really tiny and really fragile, so it's safer to get someone else to lift them off.

I hate using this particular scene for "how would people get helped on or off of a horse?" but in Game of Thrones, the short teenage girl is Daenerys (played by Emilia Clarke) and she's just married a huge and muscular warlord named Drogo (played by Jason Momoa).

Context: Daenerys probably knows HOW to ride, but she's currently scared out of her mind. She's having an arranged marriage--she knows nothing about Drogo besides "he's a foreign warlord, and my brother needs his army," she can't even tell her new husband "thank you for this beautiful horse" in his language, and her dress is gauzy and see-through silk that's wayyyyyy too expensive for riding.

At 3:50 minutes, Drogo just picks her up and sticks her on the horse, and that's pretty much how you'd lift someone off a horse if they can't dismount normally.

I'm Filipino and trying to less-fetishize Khal Drogo in this Medieval European Analog story, so going on how Drogo's later shown to be VERY well-spoken in his native language Dothraki, I guess he's thinking "Goddamn, my new wife is tiny. But I already gave her this horse in public--even if she's okay switching it out, everyone ELSE will ask questions if her 'wedding horse' is a foot shorter than it used to be. Is she gonna grow more? Can she mount up without stairs? FUCK THAT, STAIRS ARE FOR PUSSIES. I'M THE STAIRS. YOINK!"

But see, Tom Burke is an adult, there are no extenuating circumstances like "being married to a MASSIVE foreigner that you've met exactly once," and he's SIX FEET TALL! Tom should NOT need Jason Momoa to lift him on or off a horse!

An average horse who's big enough to carry most adults is about 15 hands high, or MY height (5 feet tall). "The Musketeers" show does have the pitfall of having FRENCHMEN in the 1600s riding practically-modern FRIESIAN horses from the Netherlands, probably because Friesians have nice hair, but height-wise, they're not known to be VERY tall.

Here's a shot of Athos/Tom leading his good Dutch boy, Roger!

Tom/Athos is at least a head above Roger! Friesians are thick-boned and often burly for their height, so Tom/Athos still looks just fine in the shots I've seen of him riding in "The Musketeers." And like... he literally looks okay while riding in the screenshots, since he's never clinging on for dear life or looking like he's about to fall off.

If he was just terrible at riding in general, they probably wouldn't have picked him for the show, or if they really liked his chemistry and acting but knew he would die on a horse, they'd get a riding double for him specifically.

How did Tom fuck up "getting off a horse" so badly that everyone went "nope, we're not filming that"??? And did he just never get better at it for TWO WHOLE YEARS, or was he a mysteriously slow learner when it came to exactly one aspect of horse riding???

[bradshawed]

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

summary — Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw certainly has something someone to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

warnings/tags — mild swearing, some suggestive content, female reader, use of she/her, Bradley missing his parents, switching between 2nd and 3rd person but you get both povs? Bradley being absolutely speechless and momma Seresin being an icon but that isn’t really warning.

note — wanted to write something for a while and I had this idea in my drafts and figured why not. I haven’t written for tg:m before so I hope I did them justice and you guys like it enough to read some more.

word count — 1.2k words

Texas hadn’t exactly been a planned trip but here they all were at the Seresin ranch in Austin, Texas.

You could say that it had been the Daggers’ fault for unintentionally parading in on one of Jake’s phone calls to his mum but they’d all claim that it was a combination of Jake bragging about his home town and Bradley retelling his sob story to Jake’s mother, who she insisted he call her by her first name, and then invited them all to the Seresin ranch for Thanksgiving.

They’d managed to get a couple days leave and decided to forgo the 15 hour drive down and take a flight there instead, choosing to get there in one piece with as few arguments as possible than the ones they would’ve had if they’d chosen to go with the road trip option.

When they’d arrived at the airport, Jake’s oldest sister and her husband picked them up in two cars and drove them down to the ranch. Bradley could easily see why Jake had been right to brag about his home, not that he would ever tell him, but it really did feel like home.

The Dagger squad talked for hours that night, finding themselves huddled together on the front porch, staring at the stars. It had been a beautiful night, filled with laughter and mischief, but also with something warm and comforting that made Bradley’s heart ache.

He’d been unusually quiet that night but the group knew better than to push it, Jake included with a threat from his mother, but it hadn’t been from what they’d expected. Jake’s mum had brought Bradley aside when they were all busy with the rest of the family and had a talk with him, one filled with a motherly love that accepted him into the family and promises that he could come by anytime or call her up whenever he’d like. The comforting hug after, as she reached up to wipe his tears, made him smile as he whispered up to the stars later that night, a thank you to his mum and dad.

The next day had been filled with the typical Seresin chaos that you’d expect with a single mother, three daughters, their partners and children, and the one and only, Jacob Thomas Seresin. Plus the Dagger Squad. Then someone mentioned line dancing and Jake’s elusive childhood best friend (Javy was extremely offended) and they’d subsequently made plans that night to visit the local bar that Jake promised they’d all love.

Never, and Bradley means never, let Hangman choose your outfit. That boy is picky as hell and a force to be reckoned with once he’s connected to his Southern routes. Shame that Bradley’s much more stubborn or you would’ve seen him decked out in a similar outfit to Jake’s right down to the bolo tie.

“Jacob Thomas Seresin!” Heads turned towards the woman walking towards them, an empty serving tray in one hand, the other resting on her hip as she looked up at the blonde raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to give me a heads up before you walked into my bar?” She leaned behind him to place the tray on the bar before resuming her stance, cracking a smile once Hangman did and wrapping him in a warm hug.

Introductions were made with Jake using your full name, which you hit him lightly on the arm for, Bradley practically speechless, almost drooling, since you first walked towards them.

He was cute, fucking gorgeous if you were being honest, and if he was the Bradley you’d heard so much about from Jake and his mother, then the idea that just sparked in your mind would be more than just a good idea. So, you took your Setson off your head and placed it on his with a wink.

Sadly, you still had a job to do, and with the blooming bar, you needed all hands on deck, so you walked off, not without a mischievous glint in your eye or an extra sway of your hips for the brunette in the floral Hawaiian shirt who had caught your eye. You turned around for a brief second to see Bradley transfixed and Jake shaking his head at you, as you gave your best friend a wink and sauntered off.

The Dagger squad, minus Bob and Javy, looked between Jake and the hat on Bradley’s head in confusion, the former shaking his head with a smile on his face. Jake wasn’t the least bit surprised, he knew you down to a T, just as you knew him. Bob and Javy on the other hand tried and failed to suppress their laughter, especially as Bob launched into an explanation at what it meant seeing as Jake was clearly too amused and entertained to do it himself.

Bradley, well… Bradley had short circuited to say the least. He could barely register the pats on his back or squad’s laughter under the weight of the cowboy hat on his head, your hat on his head. Fuck, he was whipped and he didn’t even know you. Not yet.

The crowd had begun to filter out the later it got, and by the time you got off your shift, the bar definitely wasn’t bursting at the seams anymore but still somehow just as lively. As you contemplated grabbing yourself a beer, you felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around to see the cute brunette wearing your hat. His palm was placed gently, face up towards you as he asked you for a dance, not forgetting to add a ‘sweetheart’ at the end.

Bradley can dance, he knows that, the whole squad knows that, anyone who knows him knows that. But the way your body feels next to his has him forgetting the steps he learned just moments ago. Or at least, that was until you leaned up at starting singing along to the lyrics in his ear, gently guiding him along, something that he’d expected to cause him to stumble even more but surprisingly got him to relax. Bradley Bradshaw was putty in your hands and you knew it. You however, didn’t know that you’d be melting in his, not until he began singing back to you, his lips just grazing your ear. That’s when it turned into a little more than dancing, with a little less talking.

With you body pressed against his, his arms pulling you impossibly closer as you adjust your Stetson on his head, you whisper a question in his ear. Bradley placed a kiss to your collarbone and another beneath your ear before pulling away and grabbing your hand, leading you to the exit.

The squad burst into cheers as you both approached the door, the pair of you hazarding a glance back at the group and a wink towards Jake who raised his glass in acknowledgment with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for each other, not that he’d ever admit that, but he knew. For now, he refused to acknowledge what would happen when you both left the bar, nose crinkling at the reminder of the rule.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 5: Diggin’ a Hole

• Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton × OFC Stella Daniels

• Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

• Warnings: brief mention of suicide, language, I think this chapter is pretty tame?

• Word count: 3,798ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. seriously couldn't have gotten this far.

Author's note: I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! 💛🤓

Stella pulled up to the barn by the bunkhouse. When she shut off the car, she and Jimmy sat in silence and stared out the windshield. The day had hit hard, in more ways than one.

Stella breathed out a whispered, “fuck,” and rubbed her face.

Jimmy nodded, numb, still staring out the windshield. He looked over to Stella. “You gonna be okay?”

She thought carefully. “Yeah, I think so. I gotta go clear my head. Probably gonna go for a ride.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna shower before closing everyone up for the night.” Jimmy opened the door and slid a leg out before Stella’s voice stopped him.

“Jimmy I’m sorry.”

His brows pulled together. “For what?”

Stella shrugged and gestured in the direction of Kayce’s. “For all of that.”

“What do ya mean?”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to experience that.”

Jimmy relaxed back into the passenger seat, one leg still against the SUV door. He twisted to face her better. “Stella, c’mon. You couldn’t have known something like that was gonna happen. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah,” Stella sighed. “I guess so.”

“You good?”

“I will be.” As Jimmy stepped out of the car, she remembered Rip was probably going to give him hell. “I’ll take care of Rip for you too. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and let the door fall shut.

Stella let her head rest against the seat and zoned out on the pasture in front of her. She felt for Monica. She had lost so much in such a short amount of time. Stella couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of heartbreak Monica felt right now. There should have been something someone could have done before it came to this. ‘Thinking about the what ifs and maybes isn’t helping, and won’t help.’

She must have sat there for longer than she thought when she focused back in and saw her brother walk by with his horse Blue Jeans. Hurrying into movement, she hopped out of the car. Ryan heard the flurry noise and he slowed his gait.

“Hey brub.” Stella greeted him.

He pulled his brows together. Something wasn’t right. She only called him that when she was feeling small. “Hey Stellee. What’s up?”

She gave BJ a soft pat on his rump to let him know she was there as she walked behind him. “Hey BJ,” she whispered. Placing herself in front of Ryan, she leaned into his chest, asking for a hug. To which Ryan automatically wrapped her up with his free arm.

“Woah woah, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Stella heard the panic in his voice.

A muffled reply came from her. “Yeah I’m okay. It was just a really long day.” She stroked BJ along his shoulder, finding solace in the simple act.

“You wanna talk about it?”

After a few minutes of thought, Stella straightened herself and pulled out of Ryan’s hold. “Let me go get Abigail and then we can go to the river.” She looked at BJ, “as long as he’s up for it.”

“Of course he is. Let me come help you.”

Ryan followed his little sister into the barn and watched her closely. She moved in calm, but silent motion. Her quietness bothered him. He handed her things as she reached for them. They worked like a fine oiled machine. A nice assembly line of tacking up her mare.

The aforementioned mare nuzzled at her owner occasionally, trying to elicit a response. Stella whispered to her, “hold on girl.” Ryan would almost say it looked like Stella was going to cry. Once the last piece of the puzzle was placed, Stella didn’t even wait for Ryan. She just knew he would follow.

The sibling duo made a quick pit stop to grab the other horse and prepared to set off toward the lower part of the river. “I’m gonna let her leg it out.” Stepping into her saddle, she let the bay roan take off.

The woman and her horse slowed to a walk when the river came into view. Stella heard Ryan and Blue Jeans coming up behind them. Ryan stopped BJ next to his sister and observed the thousand yard stare.

“Stella, what happened? Where’d you even go earlier?”

“I went to Kayce’s and I took Jimmy thinking Kayce and I could teach him something that would help him here.”

Ryan held off asking again because he could feel that the flood gates were about to burst.

“Well everything was going great. Jimmy was learning something, and we were all having a great time.” Stella’s heart fluttered in her chest, making it hard to catch her breath. “Then we heard a gunshot—,” she cut herself off and took a stuttering breath in. “It was Monica’s sister-in-law.”

“Wait, she?”

Stella confirmed with a solemn nod.

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t see much because Monica took over, but I saw enough.” She leaned forward. “I wish I had words, but I don’t. I’m sorry for Monica, I’m sorry for Samantha’s kids.” Stella shook her head. “I just don’t know what I want to say.”

“And that’s okay. You don’t have to have something to say all the time.”

“I just wish there was something any of us could have done.”

“I know what you mean.”

In the silence that fell over Stella and her brother, she thought about the situation with John. There were so many things she was unsure of. Is she fired, is she staying, is she demoted? The anxiety crept up on her. It’s cold, bony hands gripping her shoulders and weaving their way to her neck.

Ryan watched Stella tense up again. He knew she was always safe here, but as of late it seemed that she was losing that comfort. “What else is going on?”

His voice broke her out of her thoughts of the situation. Stella had tried to avoid telling Ryan anything about it. She had a choice in front of her. She could lie and say it’s nothing, or she could spill the beans completely.

If she lied, Ryan would know. That was one thing she could never get away with by herself. Kayce always helped convince him, or anyone they were trying to pull the wool over on.

If she fessed up, he would most likely go on a tear to find John and argue with him. Stella didn’t want to put his livelihood and job in jeopardy alongside her. It was her stupid mistake and he shouldn’t have to take the fall with her.

“You gotta promise me you won’t go on a rampage after this.”

Ryan stiffened in his saddle. He focused his gaze directly on Stella. “I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. Go on.”

Stella took the plunge and let it all fall out. “So I overheard a conversation I shouldn’t have, and when I went to sneak away, which I now realize I should have just waited it out, Mr. Dutton saw me and now my job and time here is in the balance.” The silence that enveloped them had Stella twitching in her saddle. She could almost hear the impending explosion. “Ryan, please don’t. Don’t risk yourself trying to defend me.”

His glare locked her in place. He looked furious. Stella braced herself for the onslaught of her brother's wrath. “How dare you ask me that, Stella?”

“Ryan come on now, we both can’t afford to lose our jobs.”

“It’s not about that!”

“Then what is it about?!” She screamed back at him.

“John should know better! You’ve never had any problem with secrecy! He should know you better than that!”

“Well Ryan, I don’t know when he’s gonna decide, and I don’t have the power to make him change his mind or sway his decision.”

“Kayce would! Have you told him?”

“He’s got enough going on. I’m not dragging him into this. He would go to a whole different level of blood rage.”

“You can’t just lay down and submit. Even if he is your boss, say something damnit!” If there was one thing John hated in his employees, it was when they gave up.

Stella rolled her eyes. Ryan was right, but John’s words, you’re on thin ice little girl, ran through her head over and over. “Alright, fine,” she grumbled. “What would I even say?”

“The truth.”

“Wow, don’t you think I already did that?”

“If you would let me finish my thought,” Ryan raised his brows at her. “Tell him the truth, but we all know he can be a bully sometimes. So be a bully back.”

John just finished talking to Jamie in the house. He needed to find Rip. There were questions he needed answered about Stella. He hoped he could find the answers with his foreman. Thinking since it was late, he would try the foreman’s lodge first.

On his way down the hill in the dark, he heard hooves as they barreled away from the barn. John caught a quick glimpse of Stella and Ryan headed off to the river.

He rapped on the lodge's door which brought Rip front and center. “Sir? Is everything alright?” He stepped out onto the small porch.

“It might be, but I have a few questions.” John stopped and reflected. Rip remained wordless, waiting for John to continue. “Tell me about Stella.”

“What do you wanna know, sir?” Rip frowned. John knew Stella just as well as anyone else on the ranch.

John contemplated. “I know she’s been here a while. Hell, grown up here, really. She’s a hard worker. My son loves her. The men love her.”

Rip nodded. “Yes sir, I would agree. I’d trust her with my life. Without a doubt.”

“But can we trust her with sensitive information?”

“I believe we could. I’ve never heard anything come up otherwise. And I can’t swear to what she’s overheard in the past or not. If she’s even paid attention to it.”

“Oh, she’s paid attention to it.” John declared.

“She’s been here this long with her brother, and nothing has made her run. She’s protected all of us like a grizzly when she’s had to. Even the resident dipshit. What did she hear?”

“She heard Jamie and I talking about Kayce being identified and what to do with Lee so they couldn’t identify Kayce.”

“Oh, that kind of information.”

“Yeah. The burying kind.” John confirmed. “Does that change your mind?”

“No, sir. I could talk to her for you?”

“No. I feel like I should handle this.” John turned and left Rip standing there. He paused for a moment to mention something he’d forgotten, “oh she tried to fight Fred by the way.”

“Fuck.” Rip cursed to himself in a hushed tone. “I thought I heard some of the men talking about her landing a hit. I’ll take care of that, sir.” He would have to talk with Stella, hopefully before John got to her. Rip knew they could trust her not to say anything, but John was a hard man to convince. Even with Rip’s blessing.

John continued on his way past the round pen and into the barn. He went to go sit with Tank and remembered Stella and Ryan were gone. John opened the stallion’s stall. He placed himself at the back corner.

He sat there for about 10 minutes before he started hearing noise at the front end of the barn. He caught Stella faintly talking to her brother. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. The tone was glum from what he could tell. Her voice floated closer as she stood her mare outside the stall next to him. Ryan’s voice sounded a bit further to the left.

Tank moved to the open window and chuffed at her. Stella reached out to pet his nose from afar. “Hey buddy. You did a great job today. I hope those boys have been treating you right.” The stud brushed against her hand. She glanced at her brother over her shoulder. “Y’all been treating him right?”

Ryan laughed. “Yes, Stellee. Not many of us can touch him for long anyway.”

Stella went back to breaking down Abigail. She mumbled softly to her. “You did great today too, babe. I’m sorry I’ve been making myself scarce. I just don’t need another run in like yesterday. I don’t want us to get kicked outta here. I don’t know what I would do if that happened.” She brushed Abigail’s side softly.

Ryan interjected softly. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“How can you promise that?”

“I can’t, but I know our boss well enough. You stick to your guns, and everything will work itself out.” Ryan suggested.

“Fuck Ry, I should have known better.” Stella huffed. Abigail chuffed at her and gave her arm a hard shove with her nose, sensing her girl’s anxiety.

The siblings became aware of noise behind the large mare in front of her. Letting her shoulders drop, Stella prayed with every fiber of her being that it wasn’t John. She peeked over top of Abigail’s withers, which at 16.3 hands, was just high enough that she could just barely see over at five foot seven if she went up on her toes a bit. When she saw that it was Jimmy just coming in to close everyone up for the night, she sighed in relief. She fixed her glasses and readjusted the backwards ball cap she had on.

“Hey Jimmy.”

“Oh hey, Stella. Ryan.” When Ryan didn’t say anything, Jimmy went about closing up stall windows at the far end. “You doin’ okay, Stell?”

“Yeah I’m okay. I think. We just got back from a ride around. Had to clear my head.” She paused for a moment. “You comin’ in to shut everyone up for the night?”

“Yeah. The usual low man stuff. I had to clear my head too.”

Stella ignored the scoff from her brother. “Nah I don’t consider it low man. Being in here was some of the least stressful time I had. Out there?” Stella pointed out the barn door. “Well as you saw today… you gotta be worried about not only yourself, but everyone, and every move you make.” She continued to brush out Abigail.

Jimmy laughed. “You’ve got a point there. Can I help you out?”

Stella glanced at him over top of Abigail again and then at her brother. She debated for a minute, but decided he was harmless and it would also help her get out of here quicker.

She smiled at him. “Sure. Why not?”

They made quick work of getting the mare ready for the night. Making sure she was properly cooled off and locked up safe in her stall. With Ryan finishing his horse and lending a hand, it went even faster.

“I’m sorry the guys are hazing you so bad. It’ll get better here soon. I think you’re doing great for someone who had no previous experience.” Stella encouraged him. “And having me and maybe Kayce, if I can convince him, you’ll be great in no time.”

Ryan watched the exchange and felt the need to break up the love fest. “When did this become Stella’s School for Dipshits?”

Stella smacked Ryan’s arm, hard. “How about you shut the fuck up or else you’ll be enrolled in Stella’s School for Dumbasses Who Need to Eat Knuckles?”

“Okay okay, my bad. I’m sure you learned a lot from them both today, Jimmy. I wanna see it in action out there.” Jimmy assessed whether or not Ryan was serious. When the genuine look remained on the man’s face, he gave him a small smile.

His gaze moved back to Stella. “Thank you for standing up for me to Fred by the way. He’s batshit crazy and that wasn’t a great idea, but I appreciate it. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this though.”

“Of course, Jimmy. As for being cut out for this? None of us really are. It gets cut into us.” Ryan emphatically nodded.

“What do you mean?”

“Usually, by one way or another, we pick up on the little stuff we’re not good at. Trial and error. Learning the ropes isn’t easy. It certainly doesn’t happen overnight, either. Give it time, Jimmy. Lloyd has faith in you. So I do too.” She patted his shoulder. “Goodnight Jimmy. Thanks for the help.” She and Ryan began to wander off to the door.

“Sorry, Mr. Dutton, should I, um…,” Stella heard Jimmy utter those words and wanted to die right there. He had been in the barn the whole time. She gave a wide eyed look to her brother and picked up the pace. She could hear the men talking faintly behind her.

“You never knew your grandmother, did you?”

“No, she, uh…,” he paused and then continued, “she died when my mother was young.”

“I remember.”

That jog to the outside felt like it took forever. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding while she looked over her shoulder making sure her brother was behind her. Stella’s eyes were closed as she brought her head back forward. She opened them a second too late and ran face to chest into Rip.

She let out a little startled gasp. “Jesus, Rip!”

“Woah! You okay?” He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, but also made his eyes level with hers.

Stella nodded. “Yeah I’m fine. You just scared the shit out of me.”

Rip greeted Ryan with a nod, but continued questioning Stella. “What happened to having him back by the afternoon?”

“Something heavy came up at Kayce’s after he and I were working with him. Trying to teach him things to help him here.” Stella’s tone was soft, and she looked to the ground. She didn’t have the heart to go into the details again.

Rip saw the sensitivity and quickly changed the subject. “Ryan, you go on to the house. I have to talk to your sister for a minute.”

Ryan made eye contact with his sister, pleading with her to remain calm. Trying to convince her that everything was going to work out. He gave her a quick one armed hug before making his way to the bunkhouse.

Rip waited until he was sure Ryan was out of ear shot. “So what’s this I hear about you trying to fight Fred? Did you forget the rules?”

Stella clenched her jaw. “Oh come the fuck on. He’s a big headed bully bitch. He deserves every punch thrown at him, and you know it.”

John heard their slightly raised voices from inside the barn. He got up from his place in Tank’s stall and went to stand by the door.

Rip started, “I do, but—,” Stella interrupted.

“—and you also know as well as I do that he’s not branded. So it really shouldn’t matter.”

Rip sighed. “That’s not the point Stella.”

“Then what is it?!” She screamed at him. She was tired of people saying that to her today.

“Just because you’re miss Stella-belle, and we all love you dearly, doesn’t mean you get to break the rules and not get reprimanded for it.”

“Rip, I’m not gonna fight you. I also only technically hit him once. Enough to make my point.” Stella defended.

“Listen, I gotta bar you from the bunkhouse for a while. One hit or not.”

“What?!”

“You and Fred obviously don’t get along. He knows what buttons of yours to push. I don’t need your anger to get the better of you.”

Her head dropped back with a frustrated groan. “Okay, okay fine. I’m already walking on eggshells as it is.”

“Why?”

“When did you start asking so many questions?” Stella didn’t mind him showing concern, but she wasn’t really in the mood for another interrogation.

Rip made himself eye level with her, holding onto her shoulders. “When people started askin’ me fuckin’ questions about you.” He let go of her, but stayed eye level with her.

Stella smacked her lips. John must have spoken to Rip already. “Touché, you’ve got me there.”

“No, not “touché”. Why is he askin’ me if you can be trusted or not?”

“Let me start off with, hindsight is 20/20. Instead of doing the smart thing and announcing my presence by walking out into the barn hall, I decided to sneak out the window. Which I understand now, looks very suspicious. My first initial thought was to ignore it. I didn’t see anything, I didn’t hear anything. Just like with everything in this place.”

She started to pace. “But then, keeping up with my mindset of, I didn’t see or hear anything, I decided it was a great idea to then lie to John when I didn’t know he had seen me leave.”

Rip rubbed his eyes with his finger tips in disbelief. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Stella. Why did you see a giant pile of dog shit and think it was a good idea to step in it?!”

Stella sucked her lips inward and rubbed them together. She was in a huge pile of it, she knew that very well. She fixed her glasses and released her lips with a pop.

“In my defense, I didn’t step in it on purpose. Should I have just waited until everyone left the barn, and continued on with the ignore it mindset? Yeah. But I didn’t. And now that misstep is potentially gonna royally fuck me over.” She took a deep breath. John leaned closer to the door and made eye contact with Rip through the door. Stella’s tone got soft. Solemn.

“This place, all of the people here? Other than my own house, this is the only place that feels like home. The only ranch Ryan and I have been to that felt like that.” She slid her glasses back up her nose. “If you think I would do something like run my mouth to someone about some shit I don’t even know the context for? Risking the safety of said people and place? You guys don’t know me at all then.” She shook her head and looked to the ground.

Stella sighed. “Can I go to my house now?” Rip nodded.

As Stella walked away she heard him say to her, “we’ll get this figured out Stella. I promise.”

After Rip gave her that heavy promise, he saw the door to the barn open. John stood there and looked in the direction Stella had gone to her car. “Has she given up?” He asked his foreman.

“Not quite. She’s definitely beating herself up about it though.”

“Have her come around noon tomorrow. I think it’s safe to say she’s learned her lesson.” John started to walk away.

[an-egghead]

Now that Saint Nicolas Day is being celebrated on the QSMP, I'd like to tell some things about how I usually celebrate it! (By the way i hope this post cuts off I don't know how to do that, someone help)

Saint Nicolas Day is a holiday celebrated mostly in Europe (but I bet other places as well). Frankly, I don't know that much about how other countries celebrate, so I'll be talking mostly about the Netherlands, but I reckon some of it applies to other regions as well.

The holiday is called Sinterklaas in the Netherlands (short for Sint Nicolaas), and we celebrate it on either the 5th or the 6th. The evening of the 5th is called pakjesavond (presents eve) and it's usually when people come together and get gifts for eachother, christmas style.

Sinterklaas is very much alike to Santa Claus, in the sense that children have no idea that their family is buying the presents.

Sinterklaas is a holiday for kids above anything, and it's not uncommon for people to stop celebrating it when all the kids in their family know "het geheim van Sinterklaas" (the secret of Sinterklaas). Kids usually find out around 3rd or 4th grade, sometimes earlier, sometimes later, but everyone knows by the time they reach 7th grade because that's secondary school and also kids are bad at keeping secrets.

By the way, Sinterklaas, Santa Claus, they're basically the same person. We celebrate both a lot of the time.

So, somewhere in november, Sinterklaas and his Pieten (Piet is a common Dutch name, all the Pieten are named Piet. It's a whole thing. They work for/with Sinterklaas and there's some discussion about that but I think they're pals) leave on the boat from Spain with all the presents.

Around this same "het Sinterklaasjournaal" starts (the news but all about Sinterklaas). They make up little stories each year about what happens with Sinterklaas and the Pieten, and elementary schoolers watch this religiously (all you need to know is "Het Sinterklaas journaal, met Dieuwertje Blok"). These things change each season. Sometimes it's useful stuff, like making up special rocks the Pieten can use to open doors to bring presents, as a general explanation as to how they can get in and parents don't contradict each other.

In the past though, they would enter through the chimney, but not many people have chimney's anymore.

Other times it's shit like "We think Sinterklaas and the Pieten have fucking crashed and drowned". They've done this more than once.

Then after like a week or so they arrive in the land. Legit every city picks a day and has an "intocht". I have no idea how to translate this, but it's basically a parade with Sinterklaas and the Pieten. It's just random people though. I played Piet once and it was awesome. I put on Heelys and kids loved it.

During the Intocht kids get stand at the sides with their family and hold open bags. The Pieten put all sorts of sweets in there, but mostly pepernoten en kruidnoten (which are often also called pepernoten. I don't make the rules). You're all missing out by the way, kruidnoten are the absolute best.

After Sinterklaas has arrived in the country, kids get to put one of their shoes at the chimney or another designated place every night, usually with a piece of vegetable in it (commonly a carrot) and then they get a very tiny present in the morning.

The carrot is for Sinterklaas's horse, I'll get to the horse in a bit.

Then the 5th is pakjesavond, and the 6th it's Sinterklaas's birthday, so he and the Pieten go home again. Most people celebrate pakjesavond the 5th nowadays, but in the past it would be celebrated the morning of the 6th. People then said Sinterklaas dropped off all the presents in the night. All the kids used to get the day off from school as well the 6th, but that was a WHILE ago. Now, basically all the festivities are on the 5th, and elementary schools make a fun day out of it.

Then they all leave again and we put the christmas trees up within like 2 days.

SO, about Sinterklaas's horse. It used to be (and in many local places, still is) a white horse named Amerigo, but on the Sinterklaasjournaal they said that horse was retiring. Fine. I guess. Now it's "O Zo Snel" (O So Fast). Yes it's a dumb name, but there's a Sinterklaas-song that says "op zijn paardje, o zo snel" (on his horse, o so fast), so that's where they got it from. THE SONG DID NOT INTEND FOR IT TO BE A NAME I AM FUMING

Anyway, I think that's it. I'm very glad the qsmp is talking about it, really pleasantly surprised. Also if you made it this far I'm honestly impressed. This took me like an hour to type out not even kidding.

[mothsgotghosts]

Soapghost Tangled Au

LOOK. I'm certain I'm not the first person to think about this but I Don't Care. This blog is basically just me saying shit about cod to the void anyway and talking like a bunch of people will see it lmao. THIS IS GONNA BE LONG AS FUCK BTW.

Also this shit is gonna feature some good old fashioned nikprice and alerudy and my several headcanons, a few of which I will share for context: First of all, almost everyone is trans in my mind, I won't lie to you. But mostly that's not relevant to the plot besides Soap and Nik are both trans men. Also Ghost is transfem and that's not super relevant but I will be using mostly she/her for her (I hc her using she/her and he/him pronouns) so be prepared. OKAY GOOD This is just gonna be me rambling my ideas in a bulleted list hopefully in the order of the plot.

The story sticks fairly close to the actual movie plot, once upon a time there was a magic flower yadda yadda. Anyway Old Man Shepherd wants to be eternally young yeah

Meanwhile the kings (Price and Nik) are like "let's have another kid", I say another bc Gaz is here also he's adopted <3, and seahorse dad Nik is real, okay great (DO NOT TURN THIS INTO OMEGAVERSE SHIT. HE'S TRANS. A TRANS PARENT.)

Anyway uh oh Nik gets sick (haha rhyme) and Price is like "go get that flower so my husband doesn't DIE thanks), Shepherd is pissed, steals their baby with magic hair

That baby with magic hair is Soap! Who is raised by Shepherd, everyone's favorite (least favorite) manipulative piece of shit!

Some background info on Soap's childhood, it wasn't great being locked in a tower and also. Soap is trans in this (as I've said), he's just gnc, but the long hair. Eehh. Not something he super loves but Shepherd won't let him cut it, obviously. The mohawk was a compromise (yes I know the hair lore but I want him to have a mohawk so shh)

Anyway Soap's 20-something birthday rolls around and he tries to ask Shepherd to go see the glowing lights, Shepherd says no, they argue, Soap asks for paint instead, Shepherd leaves to go get it

Meanwhile Ghost and Graves are robbing the fucking castle and steal the lost prince's crown, Ghost leaves Graves to get caught by the royal guard and then gets chased by a horse named Riley for a while before ditching him and climbing into an abandoned tower, and gets hit with a frying pan

Again, the story continues fairly the same. John makes a deal with this stranger in a skull mask to take him to see the floating lights, the lanterns apparently, and he'll give her her satchel back, Ghost begrudgingly agrees.

Ghost then takes Soap to get some food to convince him to go home and call off the deal, and she takes him to Los Vaqueros Saloon, run by two outlaw husbands and frequented by loads of criminals and bounty hunters

In case it wasn't obvious, Alejandro and Rudy own the saloon. Its patrons are made up of various different operators + Valeria (who IS an operator now but still).

Poor Soap is terrified bc Shepherd told him all people, esp ones like these, are bad news and then a bunch of guys lunge on Ghost to get her bounty and send someone out to go find some guards. Soap stops them, I've Got A Dream happens. Alejandro wants to be a pianist, good for him :)

Meanwhile Shepherd returns, sees Soap is gone, and rolls up right as Soap is saying how glad he is he left and gets pissed

Then the royal guard show up and Rudy and Alejandro help them escape and then call Ghost's dream stupid.

"Go follow your dream, hermano." "I will." "He was talking to him, your dream is stupid."

They get cornered by Graves, the royal guard, and Riley, escape and then get trapped in a cave and nearly drown. Ghost cuts her hand trying to pry away some rocks but it's too dark underwater for her to see. They both think they're gonna die so Ghost tells Soap her real name.

"my real name is Simon Riley. Somebody might as well know." "I have magic hair that glows when I sing." "....what?" "OH MY GOD- I HAVE MAGIC HAIR THAT GLOWS WHEN I SING!!!"

John's good old magic hair saves the day, they escape, they find a clearing to camp out in for the night and Soap uses his hair to heal the cut on Simon's hand, Simon freaks out a little bit it's fine, she's fine

John then asks why Simon changed her name to Ghost, Simon says it's a boring story but John listens anyway. She talks about her father and her brother taunting her with ghosts and skeletons, and when they died it stuck with her. She decided to become a ghost.

Simon asks about John's hair, he tells her that his "father" keeps him in that tower to protect him from people who want to steal his hair, shows her the tiny little brown strand that never grew back and says people want to use him for his hair's healing abilities, it's how he got the big scar on his chin.

Simon leaves to get firewood, and Shepherd emerges from the fucking shadows like a creature and tells Soap to come home with him, to which Soap says no because he Likes Simon, and she's gonna take him to see the lanterns, and she's nice!! Shepherd gets mad, tosses him the satchel and says to give it to Simon and see what she does, that he'll be sorry when she runs away with it, and then leaves

Simon comes back and Soap lies and says everything is fine. Shepherd runs into Graves who wants to kill Simon and makes a deal with him

Then morning rolls around and Simon is awoken by RILEY THE FUCKING HORSE, Soap convinces Riley to be nice and let Simon go for one day because "it's my birthday :)" and she's supposed to take him to see the lanterns

They make their way into town and Simon immediately is like "okay yeah your hair is too long" because people keep stepping on it and gets some kids to braid it. John looks very handsome, Simon is very queer, they run off and have a good time enjoying the town square and all the festivities

At some point Soap notices a mural of the royal family, with a certain golden haired baby that looks very familiar, but quickly brushes it off to dance with the townsfolk and Simon

Then it's time to see the lights! Yay! Simon gets a boat for him and John, tosses Riley a bag of apples that he Definitely Paid For, Okay...Or Mostly Paid For.

I See the Light happens, John gives Simon the satchel and Simon pushes it aside in favor of taking off her mask, just for John.

"but I'm not scared anymore, ye know?" "I think I'm starting to."

AND THEN HE TAKES THE MASK OFF AND. sometimes, I am a genius. Anyway, they get back to shore and Simon sees Graves and is like "I promise I'll be right back" and goes off to just give him the satchel, he doesn't want it anymore he just wants to be done with all this criminal shit, mainly for Johnny.

Graves instead is like "what if I took that magic hair guy instead" and knocks his ass out and ties her to a boat then goes to snatch Soap. Shepherd shows up AGAIN and knocks Graves out like "oh look son I saved you!" And Soap sees the boat with Simon on it, thinks she left him, and goes back with Shepherd

Simon wakes up TIED TO A BOAT WITH THE FUCKING CROWN HE STOLE AND GETS ARRESTED

Graves also gets arrested and Simon freaks out on him when passing him being led to his cell, Graves says that some weird guy showed up and took Soap back home and Simon is locked in her cell

Meanwhile back at the tower, Soap is laying in his bed all sad bc his gf left him, when he realizes the sun crest on the little flag Simon got him at the festival matches suns he's been subconsciously painting for YEARS, that when he tried on that crown Simon stole it fit, that that baby on that mural WAS HIM, that BRO HE IS THE LOST PRINCE.

Then he yells at Shepherd for stealing him away and Shepherd is like "okay fuck you" and plans to lock him up forever

Meanwhile, Simon gets broken out of prison by two cowboys and their gaggle of thieves and bounty hunters and a horse named Riley. Riley takes him to the tower where he climbs up and gets stabbed by Shepherd after seeing Soap LITERALLY CHAINED TO A WALL.

John begs Shepherd to let him heal her, that he'll go with him quietly and never complain if he does and Shepherd agrees and chains Simon up too so he can't follow them. Soap goes to heal her and Simon slices off a bunch of his hair. Shepherd rapidly ages and falls out of the window and dies, L moment. Simon dies too tho, sad.

For real though, "You were my new dream" "And you were mine" fucks me up every time. Anyway, Simon dies, Soap's magic tears of love or something brings her back to life.

"Did I ever mention...I like brunettes" "PFF- YER AN ARSEHOLE!" "Sorry Johnny, there can only be one blonde person in this relationship!"

Anyway happily ever after and all that, Soap gets to reunite w his long lost fathers and brother.

Look idk how they recognize him okay. Father's intuition? Blue eyes? The big fat scar on his chin that wasn't ACTUALLY from someone stealing Soap (he was a stupid baby)? Idk could be any or all of those.

THE END!!!!!! Thank you to those who sat here and read ALL of this <3 big preesh! Okay idk how to end this so bye

[bloodgulchblog]

WHAT HAPPENS IN HALO: OUTCASTS, ZITA?

Hot damn, I haven't done one of these in a while.

Let me get this written down for you while it's still fresh...

(As usual: I cannot guarantee I present events that are happening in the same time in different places in the order the book does, but I do promise the gist of the thing)

Outcasts happens in November of 2559, which is after the destruction of Doisac and before the events of Halo Infinite begin.

Cortana's forces are occupying Sanghelios and attempting to police the population, which makes the Arbiter's position suck out loud: he can't directly confront Cortana without winding up in the same position as Atriox with Doisac. The Sangheili have been trying to figure out what to do without Cortana finding out about any of their plans.

There are also some humans on Sanghelios, among them Spartan Olympia Vale. Vale has become a personal friend to the Arbiter in addition to an important diplomatic contact. (She is pre-emptively sad about how bad it's gonna turn out once the Arbiter finds out the extent to which ONI has fucked him over over the years, but also: Thel actually knows more than she thinks he does and that's kind of fun.)

Anyway.

After a very tense traffic stop by some of Cortana's troops on his way back from a big important Kaidon meeting (this is the part that N'tho 'Sraom and Usze 'Taham are around for), Thel has a vistor: an Oath Warden named Crei 'Ayomuu. Oath Wardens are hired guns who enforce contracts, either by scaring the noncompliant party into following through on their end, or by bringing back their head. This is considered highly dishonorable work and nobody likes Oath Wardens. Thel is not a fan either.

'Ayomuu, however, is here because he has some important information about the contract he is pursuing: a human xenoarchaeologist (Keely Iyuska) who specializes in pre-Forerunner civilizations (or, you know, what trace scraps of those exist) agreed, in exchange for funding, to give 'Ayomuu's client first pick of whatever she finds on a planet the Sangheili call N'ba.

To make a long story short, N'ba is what we would remember as Netherop from Halo: Oblivion. It is a miserable desert world that did have evidence of weird alien technology, but nothing too earth-shattering.

...But the evidence also suggests something far, far more important might be on Netherop: A weapon. A powerful, ancient weapon that once was used to kill a Guardian.

It is, obviously, very important that this not fall into the wrong hands. Cortana is also actively hunting for this human, and Cortana's hands would absolutely be the wrong ones.

It's time to get over working with an Oath Warden and get on the case.

Meanwhile, Vale is also finding out about this elsewhere. She's hearing it straight from the horse's mouth, because Iyuska is an old university acquaintance and is reaching out to Vale for help because ONI may be in fucking shambles after Cortana destroyed Bravo-6, but there are enough pieces still working and she knows Vale still has contacts. And they prrrrooooobably should not let Iyuska's client (or anyone) get their hands on this thing she is pretty sure she's discovered.

Vale agrees, and they set off to the one planet you know makes it a Troy Denning Halo novel: Gao.

In Oblivion the UNSC found a pack of feral children (the descendents of space pirates) on Netherop and those children wound up founding a settlement somewhere in the jungle on Gao. Vale wants to find someone who has been to Netherop before to advise on this mission. She and Iyuska make their way in by pretending to be medical researchers investigating a new prion disease that is infecting people on Gao. (That part is happening on Gao, by the way.) The cover falls apart pretty quick because the locals are deeply suspicious and because Vale is.... a Spartan-IV out of armor, and that shit is kind of obvious.

Luckily things don't turn to violence, though, because they are broken up by Rosa Fuertes. This is the character we knew in Oblivion as local Netherop feral youth leader Roselle. (She changed her name to try to avoid ONI tracking her or something and... honey... you are gonna have to try a lot harder than that.) She was like 20 in Oblivion so now she's like 50, and is herself wasting away from the prion disease. She agrees to go with Vale and Iyuska to help with whatever they're doing, but on the condition that ONI continues to leave her family the fuck alone.

Meanwhile, the Arbiter has snuck off Sanghelios (leaving his most trusted guys to cover for him and pretend he's home for as long as possible to throw Cortana's surveillance off the scent) and gone to Netherop. He has some help from two kaidons for this endeavor: 'Talot and Varo'dai. 'Talot is an old ally of 'Vadam and pretty traditional. Varo'dai is a lot more interesting: She (yes she) originally came from Saepon'kal.

This is some Shit No One Remembers Halo lore, so here's the tl;dr: The first time we ever heard of a NOVA bomb (you know, a planet cracker) was the time in First Strike where Admiral Whitcomb left one as bait for the Covenant to find. The Covenant, not knowing what it was, took it back with them to a fleet rally point. In Ghosts of Onyx, a Huragok accidentally set the bomb off by poking at it to trying to figure it out. This blew up most of that particular Covenant fleet, and there was much rejoicing.

...The planet this happened over was the Sangheili colony world of Saepon'kal. The damage from that big of an explosion shattered the moon and soon enough rendered the surface of the planet uninhabitable.

Varo'dai is kaidon of a new colony world, because she was instrumental to saving tens of thousands of Sangheili. She's a very cool character concept, I kinda wish we saw more of her, but by god if you want an excuse to think about cool Sangheili women you've got her and her handpicked all-female rangers who turn out to be some of the most competent people in the book. (Again, don't get your hopes up too much, they're just kinda there as set dressing. Varo'dai gets to be cool occasionally, but her rangers are the most characterless side characters and please do not buy this book just for the lacroix water flavor of Sangheili women being cool. I just... feel compelled to point out that this is the closest we are probably ever gonna get to Sangheili lesbians.)

Honestly, she's mostly there so we have an excuse to see the Arbiter tell off 'Talot for not treating her with respect because Thel 'Vadam confirmed feminist king.

The Arbiter's party makes it down onto Netherop first and encounters.... another returning Oblivion character: Lieutenant Commander Petrov.

Petrov and a handful of her soldiers were marooned on Netherop at the end of Oblivion because Roselle sabotaged her in order to ensure that Roselle and her gang of feral youths would get to leave the planet instead.

Petrov has, over the last thirty years, made this situation completely fucking insane and on the one hand it's so stupid that my disbelief can't handle it, but on the other hand it's kind of amazing? Petrov's people have continued to fight the war with the Covenant, but on Netherop "the Covenant" is just a literal handful of Sangheili holed up in the tel (ruins of an ancient alien underground city) with the ancient alien superweapon and an apparently infinite supply of food.

That's not the insane part.

The insane part is that the humans had a shit ton of kids expressly for the purpose of "making more soldiers" to fight the Covenant with.

And we thought the Spartan program was fucked up...

Thel manages to prevent his allies and Petrov's weird little unit/family from trying to kill one another and does enough diplomacy with Petrov to be on rough speaking terms.

...Meanwhile Vale, Iyuska, Rosa, and a shit ton of ODSTs try to insert onto Netherop. Most of the ODSTs are killed when their dropships are exploded by a MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM, but the Owl with Vale and friends aboard is built for stealth so it manages to survive landing.

Vale doesn't expect the Arbiter to agree with her about what they're doing here, but he is an honorable man and figures if the UNSC finds the MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM first he will, as a man of honor, let them have claim to it. But also, he's gonna do his damnedest.

Thel and his gang of fellow Sangheili have an advantage because the marooned Sangheili aren't automatically hostile to them, so they go in the obvious way while Vale and friends and ODSTs find a way to dig into the underground city instead.

The marooned Sangheili believe that this is the sanctum of the gods and Nizat 'Kvarosee, their leader, is the most strong of faith so he is the best at weilding the super weapon and used it to destroy those ENEMY HUMAN SHIPS.

Thel's team and Vale's team make their way through the tel, fighting the marooned Sangheili (Thel manages to recruit the former Silent Shadow Ra'ashai to his side, 'Talot and his warriors die) and investigating how the hell this place works. Iyuska determines that the whole place seems to run on extremely advanced nanotechnology, which the marooned Sangheili have become very attuned to (shown by how the place adapts to their desires and needs, creating food they can eat and clothing them and of course giving them control over the MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM.)

Rosa gets separated from everyone (originally because the marooned Sangheili captured her) and has a weird moment with some mysterious voices that call themselve The Nothing and insist that she cannot tell anyone they exist, ever. As a prize for this, she wins having her prion disease magically cured somehow.

(Yeah, it's weird, I don't know either.)

Also, while all of this is going on, Atriox is in space overhead. The book thinks it's slick about Atriox secretly being the one who funded Iyuska's research, but it kind of plays that hand too strongly so you know it's Atriox and it's not a surprise. While the ground team is working on securing the weapon, Atriox is attacking everybody's ships. Nobody downstairs finds out for a long while due to comms blackout.

Thel and Vale's teams finally wrest control of the MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM from the marooned Sangheili and one of them ('Kvarosee's lackey Tam 'Lakosee, did I mention he was also in this one?) shows Thel how to use it just in time for them all to figure out holy shit, the Banished are attacking! The beam detects what you think of as your "enemies" and smites them, basically, so Thel worries about whether his mixed feelings about human involvement here might imperil the human ship.

He shouldn't have worried about it. Thel zeroes in on the Banished and a Forerunner ship he knows is going to report to Cortana. 'Lakosee is horrified that he is attacking a SACRED FORERUNNER SHIP, and grabs for the controls in retaliation. End result: EVERYBODY'S big spaceships get blown up: human, Sangheili, and Banished.

Everyone is fucked, they have a matter of hours until Cortana's forces arrive and Banished insertion craft that weren't destroyed are already on the way down. The gang debate about what to do with 'Kvarosee and 'Lakosee, who are both in rough shape. When they refuse to re-integrate with the Sangheili because they believe that Thel and his entourage are clearly godless apostates, Thel and aforesaid entourage leave them to rot.

Iyuska disassembles the MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM, which is unfortunate timing because that really would've helped with all these Banished.

They have to go out and meet/probably fight the Banished, and also figure out what the fuck to do with this superweapon. Thel kinda hates it and Varo'dai's suggestion of the humans and Sangheili each taking one of the two important pieces (a sample of self-propagating nanomachines, and the focusing lens) might be a good idea, but he is a man of his word: the humans did reach the weapon's chamber first when they were fighting their way in, so he will let them have it. Vale, despite it all, is genuinely surprised but okay sure.

....But then Vale gets an idea.

What if they just... give the Banished the weapon? The weapon seems to have pretty much destroyed Netherop's own civilization by being used here, and it would be difficult to impossible to set it up usefully as an offensive weapon. Give Atriox what he wants, and maybe everyone will be able to get off the planet.

(Because it turns out: there are some UNSC slipspace-capable craft that also survived the MYSTERIOUS ALIEN SLIPSPACE DEATH BEAM so it's fine.)

They parley with Atriox, blah blah blah shock and betrayal it turns out that Atriox was secretly employing 'Ayomuu through Atriox's Sangheili lackey this whole time yadda yadda, Atriox ends up leaving with space dust and a focusing lens he probably can't use but he hasn't figured that out yet, at least everyone gets to go home. (???) The most important thing here is that Rosa and Petrov have A Moment to resolve the fact that Rosa caused Petrov to be marooned. Petrov forgives her.

(There's also a chapter of how fucking bad Sloan is doing, you remember Sloan? AI? Meridian? Fenris Dragon Age voice? Anyway, he joined the Created in the hopes of integrating with the Domain and surviving Rampancy, but something about that... doesn't really work with his architecture. He's looping badly, and kind of AI dying. But not yet, not quite yet...)

A lot more stuff happens and there's lots of details scattered through here (some are fun, some are dumb, you know, it's Halo). It 100% does not advance the main universe plot at all, and what the fuck are the Nothing????

But... it was nice to see our guy Thel 'Vadam.

[cowgremlin11]

For vikdecai ideas/prompts:

Mordecai 'visits' while Viktor is still healing from a wound, maybe it's vague on whether he actually did it or not as it's from Viktors perspective who might not have a clear head at the moment

Mordecai meets Viktor after the kneecapping incident, things are very very awkward and tense and neither of them are happg about it but for whatever reason they can't fight right now (maybe both are in a position where they can't currently give their location away by yelling at each other)

anon your BRAIN.

anyways i did the first one since i could have fun fucking w viktors head :) its pretty loose cus Someone Is Having A Sick

ficlet under the cut hehe

Viktor’s stuck at home after taking a bullet to the chest. He’s lucky to be alive is what he was told. Viktor stubbornly believes that he can do his job fine, but the horse doctor Mitzi called to the scene had given him strict orders to stay home and let himself recover. He isn’t happy about the situation, but he’ll rest if it means everyone gets off his case about it.

It’s honestly awful being all alone like this. Yes, he hates the way noise incessantly chatters on, but dead silence is far more grating right now. The emptiness of it all makes him feel like he’s going to lose his mind. It leads to his thoughts running wild as Viktor desperately tries to catch them before he falls into a depressive spiral.

As of late he’s been failing at the task of wrangling his own mind. He ends up thinking of all he’s lost. He thinks of the things that were taken from him. The honourable man he once was. The family he tore from his own hands. The happiness he once felt. Everything had been ripped to pieces over the years by himself and the people he once knew.

Mordecai was the one who took the most from him that day he left a bullet in Viktor’s knee. Mordecai’s the reason he’s stuck standing behind that damned counter. Mordecai’s the reason he’s been in this downward spiral for the past few months.

It’s not like he enjoys thinking about what Mordecai did to him, but sometimes his mind has other plans. Every time his mind lands on his old partner he starts out angry, but then his thoughts begin to trickle down into the fuzzy memories of their time together.

He likes remembering how it felt to hold the smaller one close to his chest. The intimacy of when they would press their foreheads together. The smell of a warm breakfast in the morning. The sound of rain drumming against the window.

He misses his old partner every day. He can’t help it. They had a real connection that he’s never had or will ever have again. They’re completely different ends of a spectrum the way left is to right, north to south, yin to yang; both opposite but reliant on the other. That's how they worked so well in the past, after all.

He’d give anything to see Mordecai right now. He’d rather spend the awful weeks of recovery ahead with Mordecai at his side. He just wants to hear that familiar-

Ra-ta-ta.

Viktor shakes his head. He must’ve just been hallucinating that knock. But again— Ra-ta-ta. More urgently— Ra-ta-ta.

“Viktor, it’s me. Open the door.”

The voice is all too familiar to him. Smooth with no discernible accent, but so distinctly the voice of the black and white triggerman who’s running from his past. Viktor’s heart tightens with a myriad of emotions.

Viktor tries to sit up, but Mordecai’s already walked into the flat. Had the door been unlocked? Viktor rubs his remaining eye and struggles to recall what he has and hasn't done. He looks up and focuses on the image of Mordecai Heller. He looks the same as he did all those months ago: beautiful.

Mordecai stands a few feet away and gives him a once over. “I heard about your injury,” he says.

Viktor just keeps staring in awe. He doesn’t know what to say at the moment. He’s just stuck sitting in his chair with a dumb look on his face. It’s more so the fact that Mordecai’s here at all that has him so stunned. He’s dressed in what Mordecai considers casual: a nice button up, a crisp tie, silk pants, and his business shoes. Can’t forget his classic pince-nez pinching his muzzle to stay in place.

He should punch those glasses right off his face, but he can’t bring himself to it.

“Vhat are you doing here?” Viktor asks with a rasp to his voice.

Mordecai doesn’t answer him. Instead, he feels Viktor’s cheek and forehead to check his temperature.

“Have you been taking care of yourself? Ugh, you haven’t changed one bit,” he says with an annoyed tone. “Stay there, I’m sure you haven’t been eating as well as you should be. I’ll make you something.”

Viktor’s ears flick back grumpily as he watches Mordecai go to the kitchen. He can sit and sulk all he wants, but he has to admit to himself that he’s missed the fussing. He’s missed their time together. He’s missed Mordecai.

But Mordecai doesn’t come back with anything. He doesn’t come back at all; the flat is quiet once more. Viktor is alone with the painful memory of a love he once had, and the strain of a bleeding lung.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Congrats on the milestone 🔥🎉🥹

Idk if anyone has asked this already but I saw it on the headcanon prompt list and could not resist.

💕: What seemingly meaningless action of theirs is most beloved by someone close to them? Do they know how much they love it?

For our beloved cowboy and if you would indulge me Frankie as well 👀💕

-@ohsomightypeaches

Thank you so much darling Peaches, I love this request 🥰 I tweaked it a bit, so instead of ‘meaningless actions’, it’s actions that they’re not aware of.

💕 For Darlin', it's the way Jack is so connected to his horses. He doesn't even notice it, it's so instinctive to him, it's second nature.

She loves the way he chatters to Whiskey first thing in the morning, as if catching up on the hours since he last saw him, and the way he stays connected with his horse during a ride, with a hand on his neck once in a while, or a pat on the rump, a whistle every now and then. Seeing Whiskey respond to his touches and sounds, ears pricking up and answering with a snicker - her heart swells with love for this cowboy to see the deep trust between him and his four-legged friends.

💕 For Shiv and the boys, it's the way our favourite pilot is the calm, clear-thinking backbone of the group without even knowing it, especially when something goes wrong. The boys know that a big reason they came back from Colombia in one piece was that Frankie kept them going when it would've been easier to fall apart.

And when things get a bit tight at the salon and Shiv's stressing about making rent a particular month, he goes about doing things that he can wordlessly. He calls Benny and makes sure he pays off his tab, and he suggests Santi pay for his next few regular fortnightly appointments in advance. He cooks dinner or orders takeaway, knowing that she'll skimp on food. And when sleep is hard to come by, he holds her, knowing that the weight of his embrace calms her and makes it just a bit easier to slip into slumber.

He'd never let them thank him for it, but man, do they love him for it ❤️

Fuck Yeah 2222 Sleepover