#I will probably draw the whole gang soon

[shieldinthestone]

Let them be father and son Brennan

[tariah23]

oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’

Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.

Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.

They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.

Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?

[bluebeary-jay]

Reason

(Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: things go wrong when you try to cross a small city. joel almost gets himself killed and you finally confront him about why he never seems to trust you with anything

Tags: angst and fluff, probably a little ooc, a bit of humor, love confession

Warnings: mentions of violence and wounds (but nothing very graphic), age gap, swearing

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: this is my first fic ever published so i'm kinda nervous but i couldn't stop thinking about this guy. english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. hope you enjoy <3

Joel was acting like nothing was wrong.

Which wasn't exactly anything new, really. Ever since you knew the man, he always had this rough exterior, that ‘do not fuck with me’ aura around him, and was never, ever, one for showing emotions.

Back in the QZ, when he and Tess sometimes let you hang along with them to get a job done or sneak into the restricted territory, you saw how he burst, pent-up and concealed emotions spilling out of him at long last when something went horribly wrong. He had never aimed his yells at you, though, even when it was clearly your fault that someone noticed you or you fucked up your part of the job.

Just like today. You weren't exactly to blame this time – something heavy fell over around the corner of the building you were sneaking by, and the thug looking for you three spotted you as you were ducking behind a car. Shit like that often happened when you had to work in the ruins of the old world.

Then you got separated from Ellie and Joel when the gang shot at you. All of you saw before that the street was blocked and you were practically surrounded. You barked at the pair to get out of here and that you’ll join them later, and ran in the direction of the ravaged stores, hoping to find a way around the blockade.

You remembered bullets firing at you and missing your head by centimeters. You remembered shooting and killing some of the guys chasing you, then screaming when you bumped into one of them and they grabbed you. The kicks to your stomach, the struggle, some nasty comments made by the thugs before you managed to stab one of them through the cheek. You remembered faces contorted in fury and a man lifting a gun to your head.

In that brief moment, you were glad it was you who was about to die. Better you than–

The man who was about to shoot you dropped his pistol after a loud bang pierced the air and he fell to the ground, dead. Others were soon to follow, too slow in drawing their own guns. It was Joel, of course, all bloodied and livid, blasting a head after head of the guys who were trying to hurt you. You were pinned face down to the floor and couldn’t do anything but watch as he fought them with only his knife and bare hands, as the corridor he was in was too narrow to make use of the gun without it catching on a wall or his clothes. You struggled and tried to break free, unable to bear the sight of the men’s blood mixing with his own from the growing number of cuts on his skin.

The thug holding you down apparently decided to finish you off, but didn’t have a chance before Joel tackled him to the ground, receiving another long gash below his ribs. For one terrifying moment you were sure he was stabbed in the chest and your whole world stopped. But the grunts and curses coming from the spot where Joel was knocked down on the ground quickly told you that he was fine.

You saved Joel just in time, driving a sharp shard of metal into his attacker's neck. After that the older man quickly looked you over, asking if you were hurt, and when you told him no, he grabbed your arm and led you to where Ellie was waiting.

All of you managed to get out and it didn’t seem like the gang was following you anymore. Excluding a couple of cuts and scrapes you all were fine and alive, which had to be a goddamn miracle.

That didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely furious.

Joel knew it and you suspected that’s why he was so insistent about walking in total silence, sending you and Ellie angry glares every time either of you opened your mouth. You were shooting daggers at his back as he walked in the front and even Ellie had to sense the tense atmosphere, for she was unusually quiet.

You knew Joel Miller was a protector at heart. That, among other things, was what made you care for him more than anyone else in your life, more than you’d care for a companion or even a friend. His caring, gentle nature hidden from the world under the rough exterior was what ultimately made you fall for him.

But no matter how attractive and admirable you found him, it drove you up the fucking wall that he never listened to you, never let you do anything even slightly risky or dangerous, like he always expected you to mess up. He didn’t even want you to sneak outside the QZ with him and Tess, and it was the other woman who finally convinced him.

You hated the thought that he might see you as a daughter, or worse - a burden. But the age gap between you two seemed bigger and bigger every time he did something like that, going after you because he didn’t trust you to get the job done.

And you hated it.

Only when the place you’ll spend the night in was picked and Joel took off his backpack with a wince of pain, you marched over to him and shoved his chest in frustration. Even though he was tired and hurt, he still towered over you and was much heavier, which made taking your anger out on him extremely difficult.

“The hell you're doing?” he asked incredulously, looking almost surprised at the fury painting your face.

“Don’t you ever think about doing something like that again, Joel!” you yelled at him, knowing you’re too far for any unwanted ears to hear you screaming. “I fucking told you to take Ellie and run! Why the hell did you come back?!”

“You’d prefer me to leave you behind and let those bastards do whatever sick things they wanted to do? A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

Okay, now you were seething. You clenched your jaw and pushed him again, feeling honestly so fed up with his bullshit.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?! You almost fucking died, not to mention you put Ellie in danger, too!”

“Hey, I was safe!” Ellie chimed in, straightening from the place she was sitting in on her sleeping bag. “And there wasn’t actually–”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her short harshly, making it clear it’s not the time for her usual sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about grumpy old men, turning their back to them.

You huffed and turned around, going deeper into the woods. Joel said your name but when you didn’t react he went after you with long strides, grabbing your arm and halting you.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“You know damn well what’s going on!” You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “I told you to go and you didn’t listen, like always, and probably had to hack your way through the whole group of these idiots just to almost get yourself killed because of me!”

“Did you really expect me to leave you behind?” he asked with his voice raised.

“Yes! At that moment it wasn’t about me, I was thinking about Ellie and you! She’s way more important than I am! You’re more important!”

“Don’t you dare say somethin–”

“Do you think I’d be able to take Ellie across the country without getting any of us killed?!” You threw your hand to the side, huffing with anger. “I don’t have your skills and experience. You’re the only one able to handle it on your own, so if any of us is to die, it will be me, no questions asked.”

“Like hell it’ll be you!” He was seething now, too, and he came up to you in two long, angry strides, stopping just before he could stomp on your shoes. Suddenly you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “I am not fucking letting you get yourself killed! Not now and not ever.”

“Can’t you just think logically for a second?!” you shouted in his face, tears of rage and helplessness gathering in your eyes. “I’m a goddamn burden to you both! Yes, it was me who alerted them of our presence and I understand that’s probably why you never trusted me…” Actually saying those words out loud was more painful than you anticipated and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It’s just, I can’t fight like you can, I’m not as valuable as Ellie, I…”

You had to press your lips together not to sob accidentally. Although you knew you had to make your point across, you still didn’t want Joel to see how weak you actually are.

“But I’m not fucking useless, understand?” you said sternly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I am gonna help you both go as far as possible, but if we’re ever in that kind of situation again, you’re leaving me behind and I’m buying you and Ellie as much time as I can.”

His expression hardened and he started to shake his head, but you beat him to it.

“I know you never wanted me to go on any missions with you, but just once let me be useful, alright? Even if all I can do is buy you a couple of precious minutes.”

“By letting yourself die.”

He said it with such finality and disbelief, all your anger got swept off and replaced by weariness. You sighed heavily and leaned against a tree.

“Yes, Joel. I know you’d rather not lose anyone else, but if I have a chance to help those I care about…” You realized you said too much and shook your head. “I don’t understand why it is such a big deal for you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His warm brown eyes were on you and for the first time ever you wished he'd look away. You turned your head and sighed again.

God, you were so very tired.

“I’m going to look for some firewood. You go check if the place is safe, alright?”

“No, listen–”

“Just this once, Joel,” you cut him off, not turning around. The tears that have gathered in your eyes before were threatening to spill down your cheeks and you weren’t going to show him how much this situation has pained you. “Just this once, drop it. Please.”

This time he didn’t stop you when you wandered further away from the camp and you truthfully didn’t know if it was better or worse.

*****

The rest of the evening went by mostly in silence. Ellie tried to lighten up the mood by reading some bad jokes from her book and though Joel was his usual grumpy self, it actually helped you a little. The girl seemed pretty proud of herself about making you crack a smile, but her efforts to bring Joel into the conversation came to naught. The smile disappeared from your face every time your eyes met and he looked away.

He almost didn’t say a word throughout your meal and preparing for bed, only muttering something under his breath when Ellie told you both goodnight. You were so tired that you managed to fall asleep almost immediately despite the worry and sadness gnawing at you when your thoughts drifted to the man laying on the opposite side of the fire.

When you opened your eyes again, the dawn was only just breaking. The air was cold and crisp, and you groaned, shivering and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, only to realize something else was draped over your form.

You rubbed your eyes and noticed the familiar green jacket covering your torso. Its owner was a couple of feet away, sitting with his back to you on a big log. The rifle lay next to him, propped up against the fallen tree. Your shoulders slumped at the sight of him and you remembered your argument from last night. You almost laid back down, but ignoring his act of kindness felt wrong, so with a quiet sigh you stood up, making your way to where he was sitting.

Joel glanced to the side when you approached and his gaze was instantly drawn to his jacket you wrapped around yourself.

“You were shivering,” he muttered, apparently knowing what you were about to ask. He said it as if giving you his jacket was the most sensible thing to do in a situation like that.

Was that an attempt to say he’s sorry for how he reacted earlier? You decided not to question his intentions too much and instead sat down next to him, nailing your eyes on the patch of recently disturbed ground.

“Thanks,” you replied under your breath, still not looking at the man. “But you didn’t have to. You’re probably cold now.”

“M’not.”

Liar. Stubborn as always.

None of you said anything else for a long time. You contemplated whether you should just go back to your sleeping bag and leave his jacket on the log, or stay and try to defuse the tension between you two. Somehow neither of these options appealed to you but it was so difficult to just sit here in silence and–

“I’ve been thinkin' about what you said,” Joel spoke up suddenly and very quietly, which interrupted your dwelling. “And I couldn’t stop remembering how damn sure you sounded when you said I don’t trust you.”

A wave of uneasiness washed over you and you wrapped his jacket tighter around yourself. “It’s okay that you don’t,” you said slowly, not really sure what he was getting at. “I mean, I’m not sure if even I would trust my–”

“That’s the thing,” he interrupted you with an irritated sigh and turned his head to look at you with his brows furrowed. “I do trust you. I just have no clue how…” Another sigh. “How I could’ve fucked up so badly that you’d think that.”

You blinked several times, not sure if you weren’t still dreaming after all. It kind of felt like a dream when he was sitting so close to you, his jacket around your shoulders and a rising sun painting his hair in a golden light.

“But you never let me do anything important or dangerous on my own,” you contradicted quietly, which caused Joel to drop his head loosely and close his eyes. “You’re always against taking me with you anywhere, and–”

“That’s because you’re important to me!” he cut you off, evidently louder than he intended, because he immediately glanced at you and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just hard for me to understand how… how did…”

Joel seemed at a loss for words and you longed to touch him, to take the burden of carrying the conversation from his shoulders and ease the weariness on his face, but you weren't really sure what he intended to say. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it almost sounded like…

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he said softly at last and you could pinpoint the exact moment you stopped breathing. Joel’s eyes were closed and he was propping his forehead on his hand, and he looked so… sad. “That’s why I never wanted you to take any risk, because if something happened to you and I weren’t there to protect you…”

He swallowed heavily, inhaled, then straightened up and looked over at you. The look he gave you was so tender and open, it was almost difficult to focus on his words.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered, and you remembered what slipped out of your mouth when you were arguing earlier. “A lot. Much more than I should, but I can’t… I can’t help it.” He turned to look forward, his eyes narrowing from the sunlight creeping from between the trees, and he looked so beautiful in that moment, you wished you had a camera on hand.

“Joel,” you breathed, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t want to make shit weird between… us.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “So don’t feel pressured into sayin’ anything. Just don’t expect me to idly stand by while you’re risking your life because–”

“Joel,” you repeated, louder this time, which finally made him shut up.

“What?”

You didn’t really know what you were going to say. You just wanted him to stop talking because he was only torturing himself with this ramble and you couldn’t bear it.

Very slowly, and very gently, you took Joel’s hand in your own and moved it over to your lap. Ignoring his eyes on you, you traced the length of his calloused fingers and brushed the center of the palm where a cut from a couple of days ago was still healing. Your heart was beating so damn loud in your ears, you wouldn’t hear if a parade of clickers just walked past you both, but with all your might you tried to keep your breathing steady and your face from going beet red.

He said you were important to him. That he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He didn’t see you as a burden as you feared, so maybe… maybe he didn’t view you as a kid, as well.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you laced your fingers together and brought them to your lips, leaving a small kiss on his bloodied knuckles. Joel tensed in a split second and you weren't sure if he was still breathing, but you didn’t look at him in fear that his expression may take away the remnants of your temporary courage.

“If I misread you, this is gonna be painfully awkward,” you mumbled in a feeble attempt to defuse the tension in the air, so thick it was almost choking you. “But I’m still grateful you told me all thi–”

His other hand – the same hand he was ready to kill and protect with, with which he was ready to tear his way through the mass of enemies just to save you – lifted itself to your face and cupped your cheek. Joel was looking at you with wonder, the fingers you cradled in your own twitching slightly as if he was holding back from tightening his hold. His eyes seemed like they were made out of liquid gold in the light of the morning sun and he looked at you with such adoration that you once again humored the thought that it was just all some cruel, vivid dream.

But no, it couldn’t have been. Not when Joel’s skin was so cold against your burning face and not when his eyes flickered to your lips…

It was you who leaned in first, but once your lips touched, Joel took the reins, untangling his fingers from yours to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer.

You expected him to be rough and confident, just like he was during a fight, to take what he wanted and devour you – at least that’s how you always imagined kissing him would be like. What you didn’t expect, however, was a trembling sigh that escaped him when you two parted for a moment to take a breath and a gentle touch of his fingertips along your jaw. His hold on your body was by turns firmer and more loose, like he was afraid he’d scare you off if he let himself use too much strength.

You, on the other hand, had no reservations in taking his face in your hands firmly and parting your lips, encouraging him to go on. It seemed to work at first, because Joel pulled you in even closer, letting you crawl onto his lap, but then he stopped abruptly and moved you gently away, still keeping his hands on both sides of your face.

“Darlin’, I need to know if you’re sure about this, because I won’t be able to…”

You pressed your lips to his again, this time much slower and more delicate, in an attempt to silence him. Joel finally relaxed when you cupped his face and planted a kiss on his brow, always so furrowed in concern and worry.

“Joel, I wanted you to kiss me for the whole time I knew you. I really, really care about your bullheaded skull.” You looked down at him with a playful smile, to which he chuckled. “Though you’re shit at sending signals. I was sure you hated me.”

“Well, you are hard to deal with sometimes,” he mused in a teasing tone and you jabbed him in the stomach before he managed to grab your wrist. “But I… I'm sorry that I made you feel this way. Like you didn’t matter to me.”

You furrowed your brows at the uncharacteristic vulnerability and sadness in his voice and your worry must’ve etched itself in your eyes because when Joel looked at you, he turned away and closed his eyes immediately.

“Listen, you know now you matter to me more than anyone else in this cursed world. I don’t want to ever be as worried sick about you like I was yesterday,” he whispered. You brushed some hair off his face and the creases on his forehead softened a little. “And I don’t ever want you to think you’re not important. You’re… fuck, you’re the goddamn reason I’m doing all this. You're my reason, you hear me?”

You just nodded with a wide smile that threatened to split your face in half.

“I understand,” you answered, just as quietly. “You’re also the reason I’m doing all of this for.”

This time it was unclear who initiated the kiss. Nevertheless, you ended up held tightly in his arms, marveling at his touch on your skin and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours, and there wasn’t any other place you wished to be in.

It lasted just a couple of seconds though, because you were interrupted by the sound of fake barfing and gurgles of disgust coming from the direction of your camp.

“Gross!” yelled Ellie loudly, but she had a shit-eating grin on her face when she squinted at Joel holding you in his lap. “Don’t suck faces when there are children present!”

“Shut up!” Joel yelled back, but without any bite in his tone. A soft smile played on his lips when he looked back at you. “She’ll be insufferable now,” he murmured and you snorted at how done he sounded. He mirrored your expression and held your hand to his face to kiss your fingers tenderly, which made Ellie gag even louder.

“If you start making out in front of me, I won’t hesitate to throw a fucking sandwich at you!”

“She won’t,” muttered Joel, not even turning to the teen before he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.

You smiled into the kiss, barely noticing stale pieces of bread flying over Joel’s shoulder.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Trust [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

wc: 7.8k

summary: something goes wrong with a heist and Kaz's anger lashes out at you, only later realizing it's not for the reasons you thought.

A/N: I feel like it took me literally YEARS to write this. Someone requested the central idea but I decided to expand a bit and since in anon he mentioned that they like hurt/comfort I hope I have achieved it. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

warnings: trauma (again)

taglist: @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

As soon as you stepped foot inside The Slat, you felt enormous relief to think that you could finally get some rest. The day before, the boss had told you that it was necessary to recover something and had drawn up a general outline of how things would be carried out, so to avoid mistakes, instead of sending just one group, the whole team would go. But at a certain point things had gone wrong and then the whole mission had gone awry. You were scared and everyone else was scared, but you knew that Kaz was probably the most upset about it. He hadn't spoken to anyone since you had to flee the mansion.

“Well, I declare that a resounding failure. Good night, my friends,” Jesper said, holding his side with a wince. Wylan was at his side to catch him in case the pain buckled his knees.

You sighed, defeated, and started walking towards the stairs to take a shower to remove all traces of dust, blood, and shame that you had impregnated on your skin, however, Kaz's cane stopped hitting you in the stomach, blocking your way and suffocating you at the same time.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. You asked yourself if he was referring to your plans, which he obviously couldn't know about, and why he was upset, but it didn't take anything more to get an answer, "What the fuck was that in the mansion?"

Oh, that is what he meant. 

To recap a bit, your goal that night was to recover a few bags of cash that a new gang at The Barrel had stolen but originally belonged to the Crow Club, i. e you guys. It was a payment for an exchange that Kaz had made days ago with art supplies or something, it was a business that none of you were very involved in.

The black-haired man knew the place where it was kept (he always seemed to know the whole city like the back of his hand) and so he had drawn up a pretty solid plan with which you could get away with it. Regularly his plans contemplated in the most opportune way each of your abilities: guns, stealth, the Grisha qualities, strength, chemicals, and the skills with your hands in which you surpassed the man. It was almost like something in you and your friends used to joke that your hands were a kind of magnet for everything shiny, although those same hands also worked perfectly to use a pick and give access to many places.

Things were going well that night, until you had to make a last-minute decision when you found out that an unknown person was in the place and you wanted to get them out of there so they wouldn't be in the crossfire. That was the 'certain point' I had mentioned before, where everything got screwed up. It was about a poor and defenseless servant girl who started screaming like crazy when she saw you and although you tried to calm her down that was enough to draw the attention of the guards, who came towards you to capture you. And since you were very busy struggling with two armed goons, you couldn't fulfill your part of the plan, which was to open the vault where the money that you were going to steal was. It had been a rather unfortunate chain of events.

"Kaz, you know I didn't mean to…"

"Are you deaf, then?" he interrupted you, ignoring your attempt at justification. He took a step towards you, limping a bit due to the lack of a cane, and then you could see the expression on his face.

You'd only seen Kaz this angry once and the poor man who caused it was already resting in peace, so you cringed in on yourself like a scared little bird.

"Or why didn't you do what we agreed?" you didn't know if he wanted a verbal answer, but even if he had, what could you say to that? It was more than obvious why you had done it "If there is a plan, it is because that plan must be executed as I have said, if not, then what would it be?"

"I shouldn’t…"

"No, you shouldn't," he interrupted again, speaking louder than usual to look imposing. And boy he was doing it. “That was the stupidest thing you've ever done, and all for a damn maid? What were you thinking?

"I wanted to help her"

"Oh really? And how did she thank you? Yelling at the guards to come to get you! Did you think about that before acting? Do you ever consider the consequences?” his voice didn't drop in volume, but rather rose gradually with each word that came out of his mouth.

You were in a panic, somehow strangely having the strength to meet his angry eyes, for you didn't think he would start saying such things to you in front of everyone else, who had been silent since the exchange had begun. You tried to think of anything to defend yourself, but even if you found the right argument you knew you couldn't outsource it due to nerves.

Even with your devoted silence, Kaz did not seem satisfied and he continued speaking.

“You had to follow simple orders: wait for the signal and open the vault. Everyone stayed in their positions. Was it very difficult for you to do that?”

"Kaz, I don't think…" Jesper started to say, trying to help him out of the situation, but he fell silent as he watched the black-haired boy turn his head to look at him. It was true, you guys hadn't seen Kaz in that state more than a few times and even the gunslinger, who loved you immensely, thought it wiser to keep silent if he didn't want the opponent's anger to lash out at him.

"Look at Jesper," he said close to your face. If he hadn't been so averse to touching you, you were sure he would have held your face to keep your gaze on him, because by this point your eyes were cloudy and you were trying to focus on anything other than the conversation “He's hurt. You are hurt. Imagine what would have happened if we hadn't been able to get out in time or if Inej hadn't come to your rescue, do you think those men would have tempted their hearts before killing all of us? Of course not! There's no room for charity here because until that servant was in real danger, she wasn't your problem. You behaved stupidly and those actions affected all of us” Kaz fell silent and you thought that was it. You were with your arms crossed, perhaps as an unconscious act of seeking protection, not daring to look at him.

But he took a few seconds to examine you and then said something else:

It is your fault that we are now in this state; without a single penny in our pockets.

The words your fault, and without a penny were the cause of a tug across your chest. It was useless to hold back the tears that had already treacherously begun to slide down your cheeks and that you wished you had the strength to wipe off with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing.

In all the time you had belonged to the crows he had never spoken to you like that. There had been disagreements, of course, and he'd even called you out for neglecting some tasks he'd given you, but those kinds of hurtful words were reserved for criminals from whom he extracted information or threatened. That's why you were so upset, because Kaz was terrifying when he put his mind to it and you'd just had the misfortune to experience it firsthand.

The rest of your friends were also perplexed by what had just happened, since most of them had found your outburst in the mansion quite justifiable, since it was an innocent life that you had tried to protect, a very present code always.

The other part that had managed to break you was knowing that the man's annoyance was actually due to the money you had caused him to lose rather than the fact that you or someone else had been in danger. Or at least that was what you had understood by the final sentence.

The silence was sepulchral, no one even dared to breathe harder than usual for fear that he would take them as the next victim, and only a small sob that escaped you broke the silence. You hoped that would soften Kaz’s expression a bit, but he didn't flinch.

A part of you thought, due to shock, to apologize to him, but you weren't even able to. You just stood in the middle of that room under his questioning gaze.

When your body finally wanted to react, you walked directly to the stairs to go up to your room, without even looking back, collapsing on the floor and crying as soon as you closed the door behind you. You didn't even think about taking a shower anymore and the burning pain in your ribs, which you hadn't mentioned to anyone about, intensified. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so that the crying wouldn’t reach the floor below and you felt that everything around you was spinning.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, which felt like hours, until someone opened the door and stuck their head inside. It was Nina, who had surely gone of her own free will but also partly at the request of others. She could hear your erratic heartbeat and your lungs struggling to hold some air, so it didn't take her more than a second to kneel next to you to wrap her arms around you and start running her hand up and down trying to comfort you. She offered to heal you and you agreed, but through it all you thought that even though the blows on your body burned like hell, what was definitely causing you the most pain was the wounds you just received to your heart.

After that night you could say that the tension in The Slat could be cut with a knife. You thought that the others were also going to blame you for the failure of the heist, with justifiable reasons, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out that this wasn’t the case, since they all told you so explicitly as soon as they had a chance. Matthias, who was most of the time the most mature among you, told you that sometimes things went wrong and that at least he was glad that you were okay; with Nina there, the physical problems could be solved and the money would be recovered somehow. But, to your surprise, it was Kaz they weren't very happy with.

You never meant to start a mutiny against the boss, God knows you didn't, but as much as you tried to change their minds, they were distant and reluctant to talk to Brekker. And Kaz, in turn, didn't exchange a single word with you.

Jesper and Nina were the ones who showed it the most, the first one kept looking down at your friend as if he could make him combust spontaneously with his eyes while the woman simply didn't say anything, as if he were invisible. The rest of the group hadn't cut off the communication suddenly, but it was evident that they weren't entirely happy with the black-haired man's behavior.

Although there were few occasions when the seven of you, or the majority, coincided in the same space, since you were always doing other things around The Barrel or the club.

You weren't the proud type, yet you refused to offer an apology for something that wasn't wrongdoing and finally stopped feeling guilty for applying this silent treatment to thinking that Kaz deserved it. Just a little. Also, if he didn't bother to talk to you, everything would be easier for you, because, although you still did some general tasks, most of the time you spent locked in your room, doing anything to entertain yourself.

If you looked at it from the outside, unaware that you guys were a bunch of criminals living in the same horrible building, that looked like a real teenage fight. But you couldn't blame yourself too much, because you were teenagers.

Sometimes, when he didn't notice, you watched him from afar. You analyzed his expression, his posture, his eyes, anything that would help you figure out if he really cared about your absence or the silence of others. You tried to believe that he was in a bad mood (more than usual) because he wanted you to not be angry anymore, but after a long time you always came to the same conclusion; he was inscrutable, shielded in that armor that you highly doubted could shatter, much less by you. Sometimes you wished you could know what Kaz was thinking so you could figure out if he had noble motives for acting the way he did or if he was just a heartless jerk. And, although your desire to read minds wasn’t fulfilled, you began to bet more on the latter the day a new job was presented. It was, now, a kind of revenge against the men of the opposing gang (who had stolen your business payment in the first place), however, when the meeting took place you noticed that he was skipping a detail. 

"And what will Y/N do?" Jesper had asked, going ahead of you, after listening carefully to the plan and realizing that you weren't contemplated anywhere. You expected Kaz to say you were going to stick with him, even if it was so he could keep an eye on you and avoid another outburst, but when he shook his head you were completely offended.

"She's not coming"

It was one thing to have received a scolding for the mistake made and quite another to be removed from the team just like that. And that Kaz had responded as if you weren't there made you feel completely humiliated and, consequently, angry.

"Great, so now it turns out that I'm grounded," you said sarcastically. It was the first time in weeks that you had spoken directly to Kaz and he just looked at you sideways for a few seconds, as if examining you, which made your blood boil even more "Are you really going to leave me out?" you continued, now with more seriousness than before. You wished he dared to face you with an answer, and you were surprised at how quickly this happened.

"It’s not personal. This time it’s better that you stay” was all the explanation he offered you. The way he said it made it clear to you that it wasn't up for discussion and you felt powerless, but before any of your friends could say anything in your defense, you decided to take it the best way.

If Kaz didn't want you around, you weren't going to make him. If you didn't receive even a measly part of the money from now on, you didn't care. If it was true that you had screwed up, you weren't sorry for anything and you weren't going to give in so easily, despite the love and respect you felt for him.

“Good luck then,” was all you said, offering the best fake smile you could have and purposely patting Kaz on the shoulder. He watched you walk away with eyes wide open in surprise, even though you didn't even notice it when you got lost in the hallway, and it was hard for him to keep his composure as he turned around again to clear up any doubts regarding how the crime would be carried out; although he tried to hide it, almost most of the group could tell.

What the hell did Kaz have against you lately? The others had made mistakes countless times and never suffered consequences as harsh as yours, because probably the hardest part had been dealing with the boss's anger and being forced to find a solution for what they had screwed up. You probably would have offered to get the money back yourself if he had let you end the problem, but you couldn't even do that because you knew it would only fan the fires of anger.

So when you left there everyone thought that things had already gone on too long and someone had to point it out to Kaz.

"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking at the crows and receiving a general nod.

We would have to wait until night to work, so once there was nothing more to say, each one dispersed in opposite directions.

“Inej,” Kaz said, not even looking back. He knew she was there, he always knew, as if there was a connection between the two of them "Everything okay?"

“Everyone is where they should be. The carriage is on its way and the streets are free”

"Good"

“But there is something else we need to talk about”

Kaz was afraid it was something to do with you, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the possibility. They were on a roof, he too close to the shore to be able to supervise that the robbery was carried out effectively, and she took a few steps until she reached his side. The two kept looking down for a few seconds, preparing internally for what was coming; talking about feelings was never one of their strengths.

"What would that be about?”

"About who" she corrected him "This discussion with Y/N has already escalated to exacerbated levels, you didn't have to forbid her to come"

"And what did you want me to do?" he muttered, more upset than he would have liked, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “She's… was impulsive and… she doesn't measure the danger she's putting herself in. She is like a child, without conscience or limits”

“We all know that, but you called her stupid. That's very different."

“I don't want her to end up killing herself,” he said, and Inej caught a hint of sincere concern tinging her friend's voice. Kaz hated seeing himself like this, but there was something about her that made him trust her with that part of him. “Y/N acts with her heart, that's the problem. And I worry that she doesn't know how to control it. I don't want anyone to hurt her and she just doesn't cooperate” he sounded desperate, helpless, and then Inej realized how many things were being ignored by the team about the boss's decisions, apparently cruel, but quite considered in the background. It was like… acting badly for the right reasons. Or something like that.

“Well, if you really do this to safeguard her welfare, you should tell her. Because I don't think you're giving him the right message with your actions” Inej told him. Then she decided that she wasn't going to pry into the matter anymore from that point on, wishing that the conversation had been enough to make the black-haired man see reason.

He thought about it for a second and wished he could ask her more, but then he noticed that, as always, she had already vanished into the night.

Kaz tried very hard to focus on the robbery and stop thinking about you or what it would be wise to say to you, but he was having some trouble. In the next hour, to everyone's surprise in general, things went perfectly; there was no guard, just a driver who didn't resist, and they were coming back with some juicy loot. Almost too easy to be true.

Kaz didn't give much thought to the nature of the success they'd just had and they all just set off, their group spirits much better now that things were looking up.

It would be foolish to deny that Kaz had been thinking about how quickly you would have managed to carry out the robbery and also had missed the joking duo that you formed with Jesper, who now had barely looked at the blue-eyed man.

On the way he got a bit withdrawn and was mentally torturing himself about what was the right thing to do when he got home. After thinking it through, he concluded that he should take Inej’s advice and talk to you to fix things. Brekker wasn't used to apologizing, but at least he could explain things to you the way he had with the girl, so that you would understand better and hopefully forgive him for the idiotic behavior he had been displaying for the past few weeks. Although he was still upset, it was worth putting that aside to try.

After going to the club to save the cash they went back to The Slat and when he stood in front of your door he never thought to feel more nervous in life, while he started to ask himself if that was a good idea. Maybe he should just let time wash away your bad face and carry on as before... but he was also aware that that wouldn't happen.

He hesitated for a long time about whether to knock on your door or not, but after a few minutes he finally did and was frustrated when no one answered, despite a strip of light coming through the door grate.

"Y/N, I know you’re there" he tried, but there was no response. Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair and exhaled in frustration. "Fine, don't talk to me if you want, but that's not going to stop me from coming to tell you what I came to say," he muttered determinedly. Even trying to communicate assertively, he couldn't help but sound rude. “I didn't mean to yell at you like that when we got back from the heist, I just didn't know what else to do. And today I asked you to stay here because it could be dangerous and I'm trying to take care of you because apparently you don't give a damn about your own life, not because I hate you or because I'm upset with you. It's just that…” he was having a hard time talking, so he had to take a deep breath to collect himself a little “I worry about you. And I want you to be okay. Safe"

Kaz was silent, waiting for you to say something, but again there was nothing. He felt so foolish and embarrassed that he even thought his eyes were going to glaze over with helplessness. He was trying his best to go there, but you didn't seem to care, and honestly, he didn't blame you.

His gaze lowered to the floor, the pressing sensation of rejection flooding his chest, and only then did he notice the glow emanating from a section of the floor. With difficulty he knelt to take the substance with his fingers and his glove was stained with a fine powder that gave off an iridescent glow, which until that moment he had not realized he was scattered over various sections of the corridor. And next to that dust, there was a bloodstain.

Kaz didn't even wait for a second to lunge at your bedroom door and yank it open, which he hadn't done before out of respect for your privacy, only to realize that everything in there was turned upside down. There were remains of a smashed nightstand, books scattered on the floor, the bed in disarray, and sporadic stains of blood that he prayed weren't yours. The window was wide open and the white curtain billowed violently in the night air.

Someone had broken into your room and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together to find out what they had broken into. Someone had kidnapped you.

His eyes traveled all over the place looking for something that would give him clues and he decided to start rummaging through the books hoping to find a note, the amount for your ransom, whatever. When he read ‘We're even, Brekker’ written on yellowed paper and signed with the seal of a snake, he felt that his balance was missing.

That's why the robbery of the carriage had been so easy, because they had wanted it that way. Their plan was always to enter The Slat. You were there, alone, and they kidnapped you because Kaz had allowed it. Because in his eagerness to protect you, he had delivered you directly to the enemy.

It was all his fault.

"Jesper!" he screamed, on first impulse. He didn't know if it was difficult for him to get up from the floor due to dizziness or because of the limp “Inej! Wylan! Whoever!" he continued, wanting to get the attention of anyone who could help him. He was in a panic and he was also furious. He would be capable of torturing the men who had kidnapped you in the most horrible ways ever seen, as soon as he found out who they were.

All the people present in the building followed the sound of the boss's wailing and when they observed the state of your room a collective sigh of surprise filled the silence.

"Where is Y/N?"

“I don't know,” Kaz hissed, sounding desperate. That didn't even matter to him anymore "They took her, they set us up"

“We have to find her,” Matthias muttered, and he wanted to hit him for saying something so obvious. But he had to calm down, for everyone's sake.

"There's blood and this in the hallway," said the black-haired man, showing everyone the dust that still glittered on his glove.

"It's a trail," Wylan exclaimed, his features lighting up like when he had an idea. He stepped forward to analyze the sample and then nodded. “I gave this to her, it's a bioluminescent powder we were experimenting with. In theory, when…" he walked around the room as if looking for something until he found a box of matches that you had lying around "it comes into contact with the fire, it emits a blue flame" he explained, going into the corridor and demonstrating the information practically.

There was hope, if they hadn't taken you too far your friends might track you down and rescue you. You had been scared enough to leave a clue because you knew they would look for you.

In that moment Kaz felt so guilty that he had ever even suggested that he doubted your abilities.

“You have to follow it. We have to find where they took her right now” he ordered and, of course, no one argued. Everyone went ahead to get the necessary things to look for you and Kaz leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly in an attempt to contain one of those panic attacks he sometimes felt, not imagining that this would only be the beginning of an awful night. 

And the worst wasn’t over yet.

The crows moved faster and more efficiently than ever before, and within minutes Wylan had figured out how to follow the trail. Sometimes there were long lines through the streets that were lit with a single match, but other times they had to look for them more carefully and that consumed time that Kaz considered vital. Although he wasn't saying anything the others could tell that he was quite upset by the situation, so they did their best. Also, you were part of the group, so they too were extremely worried.

By the time they reached Fifth Harbor, Kaz was already burning all the way down his leg, but that didn't matter to him. They were all out of breath, but that didn't matter. And the trail ended right at the pier, but that didn't matter because they saw in the distance a boat with two robust men, one of them holding a lamp and the other struggling with a girl tied by her hands and legs who was screaming in despair.

It was you and you were yelling Kaz's name.

They rushed to find a boat tied to the dock big enough for the six of them and when, luckily, they found it they jumped on it. Matthias and Jesper were in charge of rowing and the movement did not go unnoticed by the men who had you captured, nor by you.

A feeling of relief swept through you as you realized that the silhouettes approaching you were your friends and you felt that all was not lost. Kaz thought that they had arrived just in time and that calmed him down for a second, but he didn't count on the fact that the man would lift you off the ground and, with a sharp gesture that surprised everyone, he would throw you straight into the sea.

Your cry was drowned out by the roar of the water and the black-haired man's breath caught, while everything around him was spinning again. Until then he realized the position he was in: in the middle of the immensity of the sea, in danger of drowning. It was then that the memories of his brother's body came back to him like needles sticking in and he felt like he might vomit.

Kaz didn't know how to swim and even if he had known how to at some point in his life it was now impossible due to his limping leg. But he wasn't going to let you die. He can’t.

In the midst of the attack, he was dimly aware of what was happening. You were now within safe distance of the other boat which allowed Inej to throw a knife at one of the men and Jesper took it upon himself to put a bullet into the other. In hindsight, Kaz would have wished they had stayed alive so he could take it upon himself to give them a slow and painful death. There was no point in letting the men who had kidnapped you die so mercifully.

The water was dark and they couldn't see anything, but still Matthias was the one who ventured below the surface to find your body, hoping that when he did it wouldn't be too late.

Nina kept her hands up to monitor the beating of both your hearts and the rest stood without saying anything, looking expectantly out at the water that rolled in small waves. Only Kaz's erratic breathing broke the silence of the environment.

A few seconds passed, and when there was no sign of him or you, concern gripped the group. Now there wasn’t only the fear that you wouldn't get out of the water, but also that Matthias wouldn't and thus lose two members of the group. Nina winced when she heard one of the heartbeats slowed down considerably, though she didn't comment on it to the others.

When he finally surfaced everyone was relieved to see that he wasn't alone, even if your body was just an unconscious bundle that he was pulling with difficulty.

They still put you in the canoe and you had your limbs tied with rope, so Inej was in charge of cutting them with a knife, while the others crowded around you to try to see how you were.

“She's not breathing,” Matthias gasped. Nina knelt to try to expel the water from your lungs, but for some reason your body was resisting. If she didn't get the water out of your lungs, the lack of oxygen would permanently affect your brain.

"This isn't working," she snorted after several hand movements.

It was only then that Kaz dared to look at you. You were pale, wet, and a trickle of blood was coming from your forehead and you had some bruises. He never thought that he would feel the same pain that he seized when he traveled to the coast with the lifeless body of his brother.

Wake up, he wanted to tell you, but his voice wouldn't come out. You have to wake up.

Nina kept trying and until he finally saw you jump up to vomit up the salt water, he too felt like he could breathe again.

When you finally finished inhaling the air around you everyone bombarded you with questions to check your well-being and you just nodded to them all, a little dazed and scared. Nina took it upon herself to help with the cut and bruises, while the men took up the oars again to reach the dock.

Kaz was the last to get off the boat and he was also the last to enter The Slat, as if he needed to check that the rest of you had done it, since he didn't want to leave anyone behind again. Never.

“Let me accompany you,” he said. It was the first thing he had said to you after the incident and you were so exhausted that you didn't offer any resistance. When you walked up the stairs and into your room, you thought Kaz would leave without another word, but instead he stood in front of the door.

You looked at him with a neutral expression, trying to understand what he was trying to do.

"You were very intelligent" he began to say "When you left the trail"

"Thank you," you said quietly. Your throat was a bit sore from the water you had swallowed.

"How it happened?" he asked. The trip had made you recover a bit and you were calmer than before, so you didn't mind telling him things.

“They were supposed to be looking for your office, but they saw my light on and thought it would be a better idea to go after the helpless damsel. They got in through the window and… voila,” you said bitterly, gesturing with one hand at the mess around you. “They held me here and tied me to a chair, but the knots were so painful I got free in a few minutes. They interrogated me to ask about things of value or obtain some information, but I didn't say anything. My fighting could irritate them, but I think I really pissed them off when I smashed a vase over the head of one and plunged a knife into the other's leg. Maybe that's why they decided to throw me into the sea”

Kaz was a bit dismayed at how calmly you said things and he wondered if you really didn't care or were just pretending. Although he wanted to say the same things to you that he had said to your empty room a few hours ago, the truth was that remembering it made him feel ashamed. It had been a sincere apology, but he didn't think he could say it twice.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger," he said, stepping forward for more privacy. He watched your reaction to what he said and what he did, hoping that if you were still upset you would show it. But the near-death experience seemed to soften both of you.

"Why apologize? you didn't send those guys. It was just some… being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone."

“I know, but maybe if I hadn't asked you to stay here, they wouldn't have hurt you” he admitted and although you wanted to recriminate him for that, you decided to remain silent, feeling curious as to how far he could go with that talk "And if you don't… if you hadn't been smart right now you wouldn't be here”

"But I am" you answered with determination "And that's what hurts me, Kaz, that you doubt me" you expressed. You weren't going to forget so easily what had made you walk away in the first place and you thought it was the right time for him to know what you thought about it “I made a mistake, it's true and I take responsibility for that. But you didn't have to treat me like this."

"I know that too," he hastened to say, "I don't doubt you, I never have."

“It is not noticeable. Today you pushed me aside and you told us that trust is always the most important thing. And although I was stupid, I consider that this behavior is not worthy of making you stop trusting me just like that. You know I didn't do it to screw you over, I just wanted to save her."

“It's not about that woman, I don't care about her. You know that I too would have prevented her from getting hurt if the situation arose."

“Then what is it about? Is it only the mistake of the century if I make it?”

“This is about you, Y/N” Kaz said, pointing at you with his open palm and starting to sound desperate “I got so mad because you were the one who ended up in the hands of the enemy. I hate that you act like that because I care about you too much to allow myself to lose you”

You didn't expect that and he didn't expect to say it either. It was even more embarrassing than what he had refused to tell you in the first place.

He said that he didn't want to lose you and you thought about the meaning of that expression: did he not want to lose what you brought to the team or did he not want to lose your person?

"These weeks I thought you only hated me because I made you lose money"

"Oh, I do hate you a little for that," he said, taking a surprise "Not for the money itself, but for what that money implied" there was no point in keeping secrets, if Kaz had already started to sink then he preferred to do it completely and with dignity “The club is going through some difficulties, Y/N. I sold those things so I could keep it going. Because while our criminal jobs give us some kruge, you know that the main source of income for that group is the Crow Club. Also…” he felt his breath shake and had to take a moment to calm down “I've been thinking about something these past few months. A long time ago you said that you had always wanted to go to university, do you remember?” he asked you and you nodded your head “Jesper had the opportunity, but he is a lost cause, because he prefers this kind of life to having an office job or a quiet home and I respect that. But not you, you ended up here because you had no other options” Kaz was silent, hoping that if you had something to say you would say it now, but then he continued, “And I thought if I gave you some money you would have that opportunity. That way I could get you away from all these Dregs and you'd live the way you wanted. That's why that robbery was important”

You were totally stunned.

You never expected Kaz to have that opinion of you or even care about you to the degree that he had just confessed to you. He had listened to you, had seen beyond the apparent happiness of living in The Barrel to find your true dreams, so forgotten within yourself that you no longer thought you could reveal them to anyone else.

You mistakenly believed that the only thing that mattered to Kaz Brekker was dying suffocated by piles of money, but you had just realized that the true engine of life of the black-haired man was the love he had for that peculiar family that you made up.

“You… you know that's not necessary, right? You don’t have to do it"

"But I wanted"

The gap was less since Kaz had walked towards you and you decided, venturing a bit, to take another step towards him.

"Why didn't you tell us that the club has financial problems?" you asked softly, because you thought there could be no other way to talk to him in a situation like this.

"Because it wasn't important"

"Yes, it is, Kaz" you walked in his direction again. At that distance, if you raised your hand a little, he could reach to take hers "That's the point, you decide to swallow all the problems without talking to anyone and then we have no idea what ails you or why this or that is so important. Jesus, if you had told me that money was so vital, I would have put my life into opening that vault as quickly as possible” it was at that moment that you really regretted what you had done and thought that, if possible, you would have returned in time to listen to him and not just your instincts.

"It does not matter anymore. I can't spend my life telling you all the bad things that happen around here."

“You should do it, Kaz. We are a group and we can't just enjoy the rewards without knowing the sacrifice, stop burdening yourself with that alone” he warned seriously “You take care of all of us, but then who takes care of you?”

His reaction was the same as you had a moment ago: stupefaction. Kaz didn't know at what point in his life he had to become that, but he thought that perhaps Jordie's death was decisive for him to have to fulfill the role of the person he had just lost. To be for others what no one had been for him, so they would not suffer what he had suffered. It was quite an altruistic act if he thought better of it.

But after so many years it was exhausting and he wished he could just fall into someone else's arms to rest, figuratively speaking. And there you were right in front of him, probably the person he loved the most, with an expression that reflected a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

So Kaz thought that, maybe for once, it was okay for him to be vulnerable.

“I had an older brother” he murmured, after a long while and you were a bit confused by the sudden change of subject, but you nodded your head so he knew you were listening “He died during the plague epidemic. And miss him so much"

You knew little, if anything, of the personal life of the man in front of you, so you didn't know how to react to the disclosure of that fact. You imagined a little Kaz, scared and sad because his brother was gone. You didn't think for a second about the horrible things he had to go through and that he, with some luck, would dare to tell you later.

But even with this paltry piece of information you couldn't help but feel enormous compassion. He was human, like everyone else, and he was afraid that death would come to take another person important to him. Now you understood better.

"What was his name?" you asked in a whisper, as gently as possible. Kaz was silent for a moment, reflecting no sentiment, then swallowed.

"Jordie"

You weren't going to ask him any more questions after that, you just looked into his eyes and you knew that this was his way of telling you that he trusted you to keep that shred of his past.

"Well, I think Jordie would be happy to know that now there are six of us who love you as he did" was what you replied. You didn't know if it was the answer he expected, but at least it was the one that had come from your heart. When he looked at you, you swore that his eyes were teary, although later you convinced yourself that it had only been an effect of the light.

"I hope we're fine now" he murmured, regaining his composure, referring to the problems that had existed between you after that discussion.

"Calm down, everything is fine. I know you can't live without me."

"Actually, I've had enough of Jesper seeing me with those murder-eyes."

"Then you noticed," you joked. You were completely exhausted and at that moment you were even more conscious, as if you were going to pass out the next second “Everything is fine” you repeated “I just hope this doesn't happen again. I… will try to be less impulsive. And you have to tell me if something's wrong and we'll figure it out, okay?"

Kaz hummed back and you put on a tight-lipped smile. Then you looked around you to analyze the chaos that had been left by the fight with those men, feeling exhausted just thinking that you would have to pick up the pieces of wood, the books, or clean the stains, and he realized what you were thinking by the look on your face.

“I'll send someone to clean all this up tomorrow, I promise. For now, you just… lie down”

"For the first time, I'm not going to argue with you," you laughed bitterly. Then a yawn invaded you and you felt your eyelids tremendously heavy, which he perceived. Kaz didn't want to leave there, even if you were on the verge of exhaustion, however, he didn't know what excuse to use to stay “Good night, Kaz. You should rest too"

"Yeah, um... I'll do it"

“Good”

There was silence for a few seconds. 

"Have you really forgiven me?" he asked, looking to make sure you weren't upset anymore. You smiled and, amid your delirium from exhaustion, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. He paled and held his breath, but you didn't notice.

“As much as you have forgiven me for screwing up the mission. Now go and sleep"

Perhaps it was the shock of receiving something like this from you that caused Kaz to practically run out of your room, without even saying goodbye, staying in the hallway for a moment to process things. The speed of the contact hadn't given him time to panic, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pumping of his heart hammering like crazy under his chest and hot cheeks under the memory of your lips on them.

When he locked himself in his room he tried to calm down, when he was taking off his clothes to put on his pajamas he tried again, washing his hands and face, going through paperwork before going to sleep, lying down on the bed, closing the eyes... but nothing worked.

And eventually he fell asleep with the ghost of your kiss haunting him through dreams.

[anonymouscheeses]

so…

about this human verse you got…

how does Al fit into all of this? Is that where Vaggie got the spell or is the gang she’s a part of also a monster hunter org?

This is Alastor's human design! I wanted him to give off a old money rich vibe. I didn't look up a reference for old money attire 😭 i jjst looked at some randim char from a show i watched that kinda gave off Alastor vibes. This may change but tbh I kinda like it the way it is. Altho one day I may change my mind <3 lore drops under cut!!

(Sorry if he doesn't look like Alastor, these human designs are mostly based on my redesigns so they look even MORE different than usual ill get better hopefulllyyyy)

Husk(left) is Vaggie/Valerie's dad in this au cuz I said so unfortunately. Sorry i dont make the rules! Husk is Salvadoran like Valerie cuz ofc, like he's 100% black but I wanted him to be Valerie's dad soo I was like.... yeah win sum lose sum. But dw I have SO much black characters on the way. It's kind of terrifying!!

Alastor tries to be like a dad to Valerie but she resents him. Her mom died to a sickness, and Valerie has no room in her for another parent figure in her life except Husk.

Also, Al is gay aroace, so when he fell in love with Husk he was SO surprised likeee how??? He was his first love ever and Al just loves him dearly despite never loving anyone ever before. He's still a girls girl ofc but brutha is gay u can't tell me otherwise 😍

Charlie gave him the headband with the antlers that she cheaply made herself. Alastor loves them genuinely. (If Alastor cares abt Valerie or Charlie is purely up to viewer, but if you want to see him care for orr like be toxic to them send a request fr fr imma draw that shi 😍🙏). Alastor is the only one who knows that Charlie is a demon because he's the one that taught Valerie how to summon a demon(YOU'RE SPOT ON. HOW??).

(Also I forgor the stripes. Sorry I was so sleepy drawing this you can probably telll.😭)

Alastor is still a cannibal, his husband and step daughter just doesn't know it yet, and NO he will probably never tell them unless forced to or he feels like he can. This man is the friend the smiley bro 😭

I'll maybe soon draw what happened between Valerie, Lute, and Adam during the fight, since ALOT happened. But it may be a bit before I get to that

Alastor taught the kids young how to summon demons the WRONG way. Because obviously he didn't want literal immature kids to end the world completely. The trio spent years finding ways to summon just one demon. Adam did it to create chaos, Lute just followed, and Valerie just loved having fun with her friends.

Now that they aren't childhood best friends. And that whole fight happened. Valerie doesn't know what to do. Alastor suggests she gets a bodyguard from hell, any demon at all(Demons are devoted to you as long as you keep a part of your deal with them or you break the contract of summoning one). Aaaaand that's how Charlie came to be summoned! Valerie got her eye stabbed out, Alastor was being silly and taught his kid how to summon a demon, Valerie was like "aight ig", then summoned her future wife.

(WILL ALSO ONE DAY DRAW THE FIRST TIME CHARLIE AND VALERIE MET.... ONE DAY....)

Fun fact: Alastor has a radio station of his own that he plays 1920's music in. Although most people would rather NOT listen to old times music, somehow he makes it work that people always listen to his radio. Maybe a deal with a demon of some sorts...? Perhaps... :>

[softxsuki]

I feel like this is a weird request, and I just wanted to say before hand that I’m not in this situation anymore but sometimes I imagine something similar happened when it was in effect. Could you maybe write about the toman boys (as a group, as toman I mean) somehow finding out their friend is currently an active victim of sex trafficking? How they’d react to it and stuff? I think a lot of ppl dont realize a lot of times with kids it’s not being thrown in a cage or something, often they let you go to school and live a normal life too. If you feel the need to do research b4 writing BTW, I recommend watching some TIKTOKS by nicolegrows as she had a very similar experience to me

Toman with Reader Who is A Victim of Trafficking

DO NOT. I REPEAT. DO. NOT. READ THIS IF MENTIONS OF SEX TRAFFICKING WILL TRIGGER YOU!

Pairings: Toman x Gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of sex trafficking, needing counseling for trauma/PTSD

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 470

Summary: In which Toman finds out that you're actively a victim of sex trafficking

[A/N; Thanks for letting me know that this request was actually urgent. I just got a second today to write this. The best I could do was headcanons, because I physically couldn't write out a more detailed description of this scenario, but I hope it's helpful. You just said Toman, so I wrote how the gang as a whole would respond to finding out about this! I'm glad you made it through something as horrible as this. The world is a scary place.

cutting this here, incase anyone ignores my warnings. PROCEED WITH CAUTION PLS.

Okay well first of all, as soon as they find out that you’re in any kind of danger, Mikey commands everyone immediately to get into action to save you

You’re their friend; though not officially in the gang because they didn’t want to put you into any danger from the many enemies they have, you remained friendly with each other and hung out frequently

Baji was the one who noticed something strange, so he took matters into his own hands; he secretly followed you around and took note of any suspicious activity he saw from the people around you

But certain things made everything very clear and so he reported it all to Mikey right away, who them proceeded to act immediately

Their first step is taking you away from the people who are doing this to you–whether you’re aware of your situation or not; it doesn’t matter, they’re getting you out of there

It becomes a small operation, only the Captains and vice captains of the divisions along with Mikey and Draken are in charge of safely collecting you and ensuring that you never have to be in that environment again

They call the police to inform them, and show up to your “home” without their gang uniforms on–their job is to take you out of there, not draw attention to themselves and risk the perpetrators running off before the police even arrive. The police could deal with everything else when they got there

It took everything in Toman not to take their anger out on your “caretakers”; it was now Toman’s job to take care of you and give you a new home with them, not get in trouble and leave you alone

Obviously, you needed a lot of support from all your friends, and professional support as well, which they all helped you out with

Mitsuya was probably the one you ended up confiding in the most–being as he was an older brother to his younger sisters, you felt especially safe with him

But aside from him, the boys all made you feel very welcome and safe

If they weren’t protective of you before, they definitely were now

Mikey had ordered someone to always be on guard of you at all times, if he wasn’t available to do it (he usually was, but in the rare case that he couldn’t, another toman member would quietly be keeping an eye on you from afar)

You’d most likely be living with Mikey and his Grandfather, who treated you with so much kindness and understanding after Mikey explained everything to the older man

You were Toman’s family now and they’d do anything to make sure you continued your life the way you were meant to live it; helping you with anything you needed in the process to recover and overcome everything that had happened to you.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 5/11/2023

[azures-bazar]

Morgan, you fool

(yes I wanted to give this a try)

Please excuse my mistakes, English is not my first language (French feller here)

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2.1k

Short summary : Arthur Morgan is completely drunk at camp and everyone is pissed by his attitude, so you're actually called to take care of him.

A/note : Arthur's tent has flaps for more privacy !

Tags : fluff, cuteness, drunkenness, Arthur's puppy eyes, chapter 2, Arthur is SOFT, trust issues, hugs

"Y/N !"

Ms. Grimshaw’s voice sounded behind you, you couldn’t hide anywhere. Almost everyone was asleep, but not you. You loved spending time smoking near the cliff of Horseshoe Overlook’s hideout, gazing at the stars when the moon was not shining. You had been rescued by the Van Der Linde gang over a few years ago, and Ms. Grimshaw calling your name had always triggered your sudden desire to hide in a tree and never get down.

There was no way out of her call, only falling forward... and you certainly did not want to die. At least, not yet. You turned back, noticing that Ms. Grimshaw was waiting for you, hands on her hips, standing near Arthur. You noted how drunk he was, he was barely able to stand on his feet and was singing something in another language but English. He had been on a night out with John, you almost did not bother when you saw Marston coming back alone. Arthur had just arrived. And he was singing a song in Spanish with a broken voice, loudly enough to wake the whole state up.

"Could you take care of Arthur ?" Ms. Grimshaw asked you. "He’s drunk like a skunk and is too noisy."

"What ?" you shrugged. "Why me ?"

"Cause you’re the only one awake who's not on guard duty, Y/N ! "

You walked closer to Arthur who nearly fell on the ground as he noticed you were about to drag him to his tent. You had no time to question anything, Ms. Grimshaw had already vanished somewhere, leaving you alone with a drunk Arthur who could not stop singing la Calandria. Javier might have taught him that song.

"Ay Dios, no ay remedio, ay Dios, no ay Piedad !" Arthur shouted

"Shh…" you whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "It’s late !"

"Me robas el reposo !"

"Arthur, please."

"Y adiós tranquilidad !"

You chuckled, listening to his sudden high voice, his laugh as soon as he forgot about the lyrics, speaking in a rather strange mixture between Spanish and a very broken German. He clung onto your shoulder, singing continuously until breaking his voice even more. You had never seen him so joyful, so happy to be alive. He trusted you enough to be himself around you, enjoying telling you about his discoveries, showing you his most personal drawings of you while blushing, believing you would hate every single one of them. However, you would often compliment his style, you adored his drawings. But what you loved the most was the smile he rewarded you with whenever you would say how beautiful is art was.

While you dragged him to his tent, you suddenly realised how short you were, and how heavy Arthur was. He was showing some resistance, tripping on nothing, slurring a little before moving forward, still trying to keep you away from his tent. He did not want to stop singing, he wanted to dance with you. All night long, if he could. However, his legs would probably not hold him long enough, his overall state would lead him to fall on the ground and watch the sky for minutes before passing out.

"Aaahaaah !" he shouted. "FOUND YA, Y/N !"

The journey between the Scout Campfire and Arthur’s tent felt endless, since Arthur would, at times, fall on his knees, dragging you to the ground. You would squat down and put him back on his feet, up until reaching his cot on which you gently pushed him, closing flaps behind you while lightening a nearby candle. Arthur laughed to himself, trying to talk to you in a rather strange language that was known to nobody but himself. Noticing he would not undress and was rather kicking his legs with a frown, you sighed and obliged. You knelt before him and took his boots off.

"Let’s get these off, shall we ?" you smiled

Arthur titled his head, you could barely resist to this attitude. Arthur was always quiet around the rest of the gang, never displaying any signs of childishness. However, at this moment, the way he looked at you reminded you of a young man, or a puppy. You took his boots off, carefully unbuttoning his shirt, trying your best not to meet his gaze a second time. Otherwise, you would certainly end up blushing and kissing him everywhere you could. It was hard to resist, whatever Arthur was doing.

"You’re handsome, Arthur." you whispered while attempting do drag one his arms out of his shirt

"No, I ain’t handsome." Arthur responded with a rather raspy voice, still displaying evident signs of drunkenness. "I’m ugly. The ugliest man on earth."

"You ain’t ugly, Arthur. Next time you’ll say it, I’m gonna slap you across the face."

"I’m ug…-"

You quickly rose your hand before Arthur’s face, making him shiver and shut his mouth. You hated listening to him complain about his appearance. To your eyes, and to the eyes of a vast majority of the people who had the opportunity to meet him, Arthur was handsome. Handsome and charming. You would get lost in his blue/green eyes and melt each time he winked or sent you an unexpected smile. To your eyes, he was most certainly the most handsome man you had ever met. And listening to him insulting himself when looking at his reflection was always devastating to witness.

"I’m not ugly." he gasped as your hand moved back to his shirt

"Better."

He did not move a finger, allowing you to slightly undress him. You took his shirt off, removing his suspenders in the process, gently rubbing his skin with your hand. After being done, and mostly tired, you pushed him on his cot, making him rest his head on a makeshift pillow you had bought for him earlier. He cherished this pillow, as well as any gift you would be willing to give him.

Each flower you collected during your travels would be kept on his bedside table, even these small funny shaped rocks you would find by the river. He loved piling them next to him when he was alone and nobody was watching, grumbling and sighing when his construction would collapse, and be overwhelmingly excited when you would bring him another one. You could see how happy he was to see you, and how much he loved these weirdly shaped rocks you kept offering him. He adored seeing you coming to him with a large proud smile blooming on your face, impatient to show him your latest discovery.

In exchange of your various gifts, Arthur would also bring you flowers from his trips, as well as a few antique alcohols. He always enjoyed offering you his drawings, you had a full collection of them in your chest, cherishing every single one of them. You were the only gang member to know how sweet he was behind his brawny stature. Whenever he was with you, you would never get into any trouble ! Everyone would easily be scared by this man, built like a tank !

"Stay with me." Arthur said with a soft voice, certainly not wanting to let you go

You could no longer resist, your eyes met his. You felt like melting as Arthur gave you this puppy look which would win you over anytime he wanted something. You could easily do the same to him, just throwing him some subtle glances which would instantly drag him to you. Just a word and he was yours, entirely. But right at this moment, you were the one that was his. You could not resist to this gaze filled with desperation and love.

"I can’t, Arthur."you sighed, feeling tired. "I need to sleep too."

"Please." he begged. "Stay with me ?"

"Don’t you want to drink some water first ? You must be freakin’ thirsty !"

"I am… Could you get me some water ?"

His weak voice broke your heart. His throat was sore, you did not even think about giving him any water on your endless trip to his tent ! You quickly left his tent, he whined a little before sighing, placing his hand on his forehead. He could not get some water by himself. He knew he would not remember anything from this night, not even being this soft with you. He had always been a bodyguard around you, but you did not mind his rather childish attitude. In fact, witnessing his soft side was not as bad as you thought. He was handsome and adorable at once.

You came back with a glass of water. As you handed it to him, Arthur almost made the glass fall, his vision being mostly blurry. You sighed and smiled, him struggling to grab a glass of water was certainly a funny thing to watch. As soon as he caught the glass, he chugged it without even bothering about the fact that a third of it landed on his bare chest.

"Slow down, feller." you smiled

"Agh, sorry. " Arthur gasped. "I feel like I haven’t been drinkin’ water in ages !"

"Morgan… you fool."

After finishing, Arthur gave the glass back to you and sighed, feeling a little better. However, he could not even more his legs properly. He remained seated for a short while before turning his head back to you. Arthur slowly opened his arms for you to embrace him, you could not leave him anymore. Not like this. His pleading look and teary eyes were so pure that you could almost forget Arthur was a 36-year-old cowboy. Lenny had the same impression when he got drunk with Arthur at the saloon, a few weeks ago. Whenever he was drunk, Arthur was cheerful.

You smiled and took your boots off, causing Arthur to tap the side of his bed with the tip of his fingers. He wanted to rest on you, not next to you. In fact, there was not enough space for you two to fit his cot, and you were certainly not sleeping on him. You knew Arthur was probably going to get up early for his morning coffee, you did not want to make him uncomfortable. You gently moved next to him, Arthur wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head in the crook of your neck. His beard tickled you a little, you chuckled each time his breath would caress your skin.

"Comfy here, Mr. Morgan ?" you smiled

"Hmmm. Yeah. Comfy."

You caressed his back with the tip of your fingers, he chuckled and wriggled a little, begging you to stop. He would rise a little above you and unexpectedly kiss your lips before falling back on you, resting his head on your chest. You were shocked, but still loved it whenever he would kiss you so unexpectedly. Your hand rises above his head, caressing his dirty blonde hair. You have always enjoyed patting his hair, whenever you would be able to reach his head. You loved this silky touch, his short locks running between your fingers. And, despite denying it, he loved it too. Nobody had the right to touch his head but you.

The two of you waited for an hour until Arthur started yawning. His head nuzzled against your chest, listening to your heartbeat had made him slowly drift away into sleep. He loved your embrace, feeling great and, somehow, safe. You also loved it, you loved having him over you like this. He felt like a heavy blanket, you could not catch a cold with him laying above you ! You blew out the candle, he moaned as he felt you moving. You apologised by running our hands into his hair and kiss the top of his head.

"I love you." he mumbled

You shivered, not being sure about what you had just heard. Arthur, saying he loved you ? Nonsense ! He would barely dare kissing you around camp, he knew people would give him a side look, especially Hosea. The latter was very close to you like mostly a father-figure, and sometimes was worried about the way Arthur would approach you. He knew Arthur was somewhat rough and did not really approve anything between the two of you, he still enjoyed seeing you happy. It was all that mattered. Seeing his kids happy was a treasure, his treasure.

"What did you just say ?" you asked, still surprised

"I love you, Y/N."

Arthur’s voice was so weak, you immediately felt the need to kiss the top of his head ore more time. He had never told anything to you, Arthur was really awkward when needing to verbally express his feelings. He knew how to make you understand by his gesture, his embrace, these hidden kisses behind the trees or straight inside your tent, him catching your hand when the two of you were eating… hearing him whisper such a short sentence made you melt.

"I love you too." you whispered back, holding Arthur close to you, enough to break his bones in the process.

[makriiii]

Caught XVI (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 2.4k

Authors note: I got an itty bitty excited with this one 😏

Warnings: 18+, cursing, actually nothing too bad this time.

♡

Caught XVI

"Hey, uh-" Arthur hesitates before peeping over at you for reassurance. "I was hoping you'd talk a moment."

The man sweeping the porch in front of you barely paid you and Arthur any mind. Probably used to various visitors of many sorts.

"We're students of the history of the... region. And uh.."

"I ain't the one to speak to." The man interrupts callously. "Try master Beau. He's probably down there by the wood store, boys got all the time in the world."

Arthur nodded his head, then glanced over to you, leading your horses in the direction you assumed was where the worker had pointed too, and as soon as out of ear shot, you started snickering at Arthur.

"Students of the history of the region." Your giggle picking up as you repeated such a silly claim, made even worse by Arthurs live reaction as those repeated words came out your mouth.

"Shut it." He demands, heaving out a big sigh. "I couldn't think of much else."

"At Least he didn't care." You calm yourself before anyone else could hear. "Students." You once again repeat, shaking your head at how much neither you or Arthur looked like a student. "They would've sniffed our funny business out for sure."

Arthur. He tried to bite back a smile, but it was there. You both never did get real angry with each other anymore.

Dutch had sent Arthur out to poke around the Gray's place for any leads. You weren't asked to do so as well but Arthur thought you should've been.

"You are to speak to this Beau. I'll watch." He states, relieving you from your stress free position of the sidekick. "Since you think it's so easy to improvise."

"Oh, come now. What if I said worse?"

"You wouldn't, lest it was intentional." He eyes you, knowing how you get.

"You're so sure." You offer, scanning as you cross the large plantation. Workers spattered about as you passed the main manor.

"I trust you, on occasion." He admits bluntly.

"Don't trust me on this occasion." Attempting your best cop out, but one you could tell Arthur wasn't letting you out on.

His face said it all. "I'll trust you on this occasion."

You let out a light groan, on the lookout for the boy - man, young man? You had seen when you and Arthur had a rumble with the Anderson boys.

"There." You point, a man in higher class clothing, which seemed to resemble the one at sheriff Gray's. "Reckon that's him, no?"

"Seems to be." Both you and Arthur slid off your horses, leaving them mere feet away as you met with Beau.

He glanced up from his book before being a bit startled by both your presence.

"Beau Gray?" You question politely, gesturing your hand with a small wave. "I don't suppose you recognize us?"

The boy looked a bit lost, to say the least. "Excuse me, friends.." he mumbles.

"We friends?" Arthur asks, a bit more gruff than perhaps he meant, but you never knew with that man.

"Not yet, but here's hoping?" Beau gave an expectant brow. "We don't get a lot of travelers here, and suddenly we have a whole phalanx of mysterious but strangely helpful Yankees 'bout the place."

"Is there?" Arthur replies, in a sarcastic tone maybe not everyone would pick up on, but you certainly did. Elbowing him in the least suspicious way you could, as he had told you to talk, yet was still running his mouth.

"What you doin' here?" Beau questions rapidly. He seemed onto you both.

"We're just lookin' for work," you chime, trying to oust the reputation your gang was garnering already.

He lets out an amused half chuckle, "lookin' for somethin'." He agrees. "Don't worry, your secrets safe with me."

"What secret?" You and Arthur nearly question at the same time, a fools duo. Kicking yourself for jinxing it. The man simply spoke as he pleased.

"I got a secret of my own!" Beau gushed, putting his book of drawings down.

"Are you secretly normal?" Arthur blurts, true to his brash nature. Instead of your metaphorical foot, you kicked his actual foot. Getting fed up with this man's speech.

"Excuse me?" Beau sounded unaware of Arthurs insult.

"Never mind." Arthur dismisses, obeying your act of punishment.

"The thing is," he screens the corner for any potential ears. "I don't care if you kill the whole lot of us, and the Braithwaites!"

"Whoa, hang on, we ain't killin' anyone." You emphasized, both you and Arthur taken aback by the claim.

"I love her, you know." Beau announced with chest.

"Love who?" Arthur replies, amusement in his voice at the ordeal.

"Penelope! But it's impossible."

"Love tends to be complicated." Arthur admits, scratching the back of his head.

"She's a Braithwaite.. I'm Beau Gray, Son of Tavish Gray- nephew of Lee Gray, the Sheriff. Grandson of Ol' Murdoe Gray."

Beau was certainly a bit of a talker.

"We Gray's have been loyal to the state and murderous to the Braithwaites for so long now, no one can even quite explain why." He didn't like his roots, which by the explanation, you couldn't blame him for. "Beyond blind loyalty and stupidity!"

Arthur stared at you for a few moments while Beau paced, ranting about his troubled family and thereby love life. You hid away a smile from his reaction, he wanted no deal in it, you could tell.

"I'm supposed to be loyal to some... nonsense! While she- she's amazing! She's like a woman from the future. She's like tomorrow, if tomorrow turns out fine."

"Well. We're sorry for your predicament." Arthur interjected, placing his hand lightly on the small of your back, his desire to leave communicated.

"Would you guys help?" Beau began, and before you could say anything, Arthur dealt with it whilst helping you along.

"We don't wanna get involved- gang feuds, seems unseemly."

"I'll pay." Beau pronounced sharply, unwilling to relent his chance. "I've got money, we Gray's, we've always got money, no brains, mind, but money."

Arthur halts, quickly, at that. You couldn't believe this man. The way he conducted business was different from your style of conduction.

"Well, in that case." Arthur accepts simply.

Beau moved swiftly, excitedly, like a young child ecstatic they got their way.

"I know she loves to sit out in the gazebo, on the edge of the Braithwaite property. Take her this letter and this bracelet, please."

Arthur took the items he was given, then you both were off.

---

Your horses trotted side by side calmly down the path to the Braithwaites residence. The red dirt underneath your horses hooves clouding up with each step.

"Looks like it's fixin' to rain." You observe aloud, Arthur gazing up ahead to see for himself, the sun peeking half way through the now cloudy sky.

"I reckon so." He agreed, adjusting himself in his saddle. Arthur seemed to have something on his mind, his eyes searching everything but never meeting yours. "You think this is silly?"

"What, being their courier or their situation?"

He thinks on it, lighting a cigarette as he did. "All of it, I suppose."

"Well," you consider. "We're gettin' paid, so I guess it's not too disagreeable - considering you changed your mind real snappy once he offered." You snicker at the recall of Arthur promptly turning 180 to accept.

"I like my money." He shrugs, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"That's certainly clear." The smell of earthy humidity became more apparent as the clouds completely engulfed the sun. He was waiting for you to continue your thoughts, so you obliged. "They're young but I don't think it's all that silly. Like you said, loves complicated. They just have to figure a way 'round their families."

The gray sky groaned its sorrows, proving your obvious prediction. Arthur nodded along, quietly, letting the small droplets run down his face as he looked up.

He was awfully deep in thought. Or tired, perhaps? Last night was a bit rough, due to the liquor and the dinner. He simply wasn't too talkative after the ordeal with Beau, maybe now feeling the consequences.

The rain quickly turned into a downpour that was certain to leave you both soaked if you didn't find something to hide away under, though there wasn't much more than trees.

"Goddamn," Arthur lifted up his arm to shield his face from the spraying. "That tree there, quick."

He'd chosen a fairly large, aged tree that offered a decent cover from the water. A few drips here and there, but other than that, it kept you both dry.

Deciding to get off your horses to wait it out, you sat next to each other, watching the rain come down from beyond the tree.

He still was being rather hushed. He sat close to you, though, the way his eyes avoided you, made you think he'd suddenly found you scary, or something enough to put him off.

"You ever been in love like that, Morgan?" You asked to break the silence, leaning over a bit just so he could hear over the downpour.

Now his eyes met you, a soft fleeting gaze. He hadn't expected the question. "Once. Somethin' similar, didn't turn out though."

You hummed your understanding, deciding then perhaps it was a more sensitive subject, so you didn't question further. The dots connected in your head as you realized that was probably the lady in the frame he kept.

The silence returned once more - well, as quiet as it could be with the harsh pouring and you let it be.

You and Arthur's shoulders brushed against each others, nearly completely in contact. As comfortable as you were with him, your heart still quickened with his touch. Something that seemingly only started due to this stiff quietude.

"Have you, y/n?" His typical rough voice now softened as he finally said something more. "Been in love?"

(I'll leave this open for interpretation. Whether this y/n has had a previous lover or not is up to you ;)

"Perhaps. It wasn't anything important, as you can see."

The tension grew heavier like the humidity had from the rain, sitting there together so still.

"Maybe if I had, I wouldn't be living my life outside the law." You remark, thinking how differently being settled down would have changed your present moment.

You'dve never met this man in such a way, or done the things together that you have. The conversations and situations had undeniably made your life worth living again and you found yourself wanting more. More than you even knew yourself.

"You ever wish you had?"

Glancing at his solemn blue eyes, you figured your answer.

"No," you shake your head, "wouldn't have come across your sorry ass."

He finally granted you a stronger reaction, a small chuckle, smiling while keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.

The rain let up as the clouds parted. The sun's rays reflected against the persistent droplets, like shiny little gems slipping from a jeweler's hand.

"Guess I don't entirely regret missing that shot." He admits truthfully, his sarcastic honesty made you hopeful, hopeful for what though, you denied.

Your nervous stomach started messing with your ability to speak, the silence once again obvious.

"Would you ever try it again?" You asked the question suddenly, not for yourself, you assured.

His eyes didn't leave you this time, causing you to nervously flick your eyes back and forth to him and off again.

"It's something I'd consider."

Your shoulders met now, and the sun on his face made the shadow from his hat recede.

Every scar, every bit of his sun-kissed cheeks were easy to see for once. Every detail you found yourself longing for.

His eyes searched your face as did yours his, and all you could hope was that there wasn't anything on it. You felt self conscious around him now and you weren't particularly enjoying it.

You didn't like the things he was starting to make you feel, nor the way you craved his presence everyday. Something you'd never thought you'd ever need so much.

Your faces were close. Too close. The air seemed hard to breathe in and it wasn't just the heavy humidity now either.

Unwilling, your imagination ran off with you when your eyes repeatedly and accidentally fell upon his lightly chapped lips.

Your whole face felt much too warm, inversely a chill running down your spine as your heart helped none, beating out of your chest.

It all became too much for you.

Clapping your hands together, you got up and offered your hand. "Reckon it's a good time to continue on, no?"

"Reckon so." Arthur held your hand for the moment that you held it out to help him up, him viewing you over once more before patting his horse and getting himself up.

---

The tall blades of grass below you dampened your pant legs from the fresh rain as you and Arthur snuck about the place.

You were doing your utmost to miss the guards as you followed behind Arthur.

Considering that it was still day, it was certainly much easier to be spotted. The grass, although tall, wasn't enough to cover the top of you and Arthur.

You watched your backs as Arthur led you forward, heading toward the back of the house. At another glance, the frightening sight of a forearm and a barrel of a shotgun came into view just behind the tall cover of the growing greenery.

"Shit-" You gasped in a hushed whisper. You grabbed onto Arthurs sides, shoving him hard enough forward to make him lose his balance.

You landed on top of him with an umph, him sandwiched to the ground.

"What the hell?" He hisses out under you, much like a deflating balloon.

You stayed low, basically entirely spread out on top of him, your hand slapped over his mouth.

"You wanna get caught?" You whisper into his ear, so very close.

He grabbed your hand off and stayed mute, waiting till you checked again. This would've been the proper time to be so quiet.

"Okay." You nodded, getting up and off of him, much to his relief.

He continued leading the way before stopping, causing you to look at what he spotted. "There's that gazebo. I think I see her in there."

"Hopefully she takes kindly to two random trespassers."

"Hopefully." He agrees, allowing you to continue. "Think it's clear from here? We just need to get around this part of the water."

A small part of the land had been crafted into an inlet by the lake, effectively causing a rather tedious detour.

"If we're quick we should be alright." You offered yourself first, a quick pacing was set to be able to make it undetected.

Arthur wasn't far behind, catching up to you as you made it to the gazebo.

Penelope had now noticed you both, a look on her face that was more curious than concerned.

She was certainly fetching. An ivory white dress, complemented with a powder blue bow adorned her. Her soft features match perfectly. You could understand why Beau had such a deal with her.

"Are you Mrs. Penelope Braithwaite?" Came Arthur as your spurs jingled up the stairs.

"Why, yes I am." She affirmed, waving her fan about.

(I'll skip the rest of the convo here.)

Once out of the danger zone, you and Arthur rode off and away from the Braithwaites with much relief. Having done what you were paid for, you felt a bit accomplished for having completed it and a lot more than hungry.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Arthur chirps from beside you, evident what he was thinking.

"Proper dinner?" You guess, excited at the prospect. Your stomach had been bothering you all day, most of which could not be fixed by food.

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: The Maritime Finale

This is definitely the last one of these, as it's rounding up a bunch of sea creatures I've missed. I assume by this point everyone who sees this knows what it's about, but just in case: https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. (I'll get the rest of the entries on there soon.)

The entry people are working from is here:

The one for next week does not exist. (Also I apologize if I seem rushed, this is a busy week for me.)

Art below the cut!

@pomrania (link to post here) has us off on a weird start with their interpretation of the Fatrihrukh. I don't have any particular nostalgia for rage-face comics (I was online during that era, just not in circles where they were common), but honestly this made me smile. Also I like imagining some fisherman on a dock, still sitting in a normal pose and holding his fishing rod, just full-throat screaming at the sky, apparently apropos of nothing in particular. This is a fun one, is what I'm saying.

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has an uncanny ability to make me think, "sure, that looks like an animal that could be real" even when they're drawing something like Fish With Tentacles, which I am 99% sure is not a thing. Though if fish did have tentacles, they would look like that. This is of course also the Fatrihrukh; apparently people like that one.

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has done the whole set. A lot of these turned out really well -- I think the Ormlalaehr is stealing the show here, but the Bursgaenga is pretty darn cute. The linked post has details on each of them, which I recommend checking out. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@wendievergreen (link to post here) continues to impress with their delightful art style. Love the little space-invader Magtlegyegs, and the Lungyoggeas are just... wild. Extremely cool looking. (Also, thank you for providing alt text.)

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) joins the broad consensus that if you're only drawing one of these, it's the Fatrihrukh. I love the (medieval-art-appropriate) choice to give it human-like parts since the entry doesn't say otherwise. The colors are also really pretty; I like the effect on the background.

Okay. Aberdeen Bestiary. No illustrations for this one -- this whole section is just blocks of text.

Ahrmegyaeb

The wording is ambiguous as to whether whales and dolphins also do this -- but the creature in question is the seal. I have no idea how this works; either baby seals are way smaller than I think or I have completely the wrong idea about how seal mouths look.

Bursgaenga

This one is of course the scarus or escarius, which does not exist. Bestiary.ca notes that Scarus is a genus of parrotfish in modern taxonomy, and that the Rackham translation of Pliny the Elder has decided they are wrasse. No idea how well that reflects medieval understanding.

Chraekhret

Another one that doesn't exist, the echenais. Apparently Pliny has heard of some magical applications in love-charms, litigation, and obstetrics. The fish that anchors ships is a good addition to a fantasy setting, I think.

Dhrakyetor

Naturally the fish that looks like a serpent is the eel. More spontaneous generation, too, which is always nice. I swear I've heard that "giant eels in the Ganges" line somewhere before, but can't place it.

Eavbechtgi

Here we have the lamprey. I kind of wonder if this "head vs. tail" thing has something to do with its unusual head shape?

Fatrihrukh

Honestly I probably should have redacted the "many-footed" thing, because the name given is polippus, which... yeah, that actually tracks. I thought maybe this was the result of someone not bothering to actually count the limbs on an octopus, but it's apparently an obsolete umbrella term for octopus, squid, cuttlefish... all manner of tentacled cephalopod.

Griggkhraz

This is the torpedo, which is some fun etymology. The modern usage of torpedo is inherited from non-self-propelled naval mines, which were named after this torpedo, an electric ray. (Presumably they named mines after it because it hides itself & zaps you if you accidentally step on it.) The rays were named for their effect on people whom they zap: torpidus, 'numb'. This is of course cognate with English torpid. Which is a strange word to be cognate with the thing you shoot at boats.

Also:

...if a torpedo from the Indian sea is touched by a spear or rod, even from a considerable distance, the muscles of the fisherman's arms, even if they are very strong, grow numb...

Would that work if it were a metal rod?

Hretchngin

This is the crab. I did not know all of that about crabs, especially the basil thing.

Khaboghrad

Meet the sea urchin. That's why it specifies "the maritime kind" -- the other kind of urchin is a hedgehog. I don't know why the author calls it "worthless and contemptible", especially since they go on to say it can do this really cool thing. Just seems unnecessarily mean.

Lungyoggea

This one is just shellfish. All of them, apparently. The words given are conca and concle -- Latin concha covers shellfish in general.

Magtlegyeg

Naturally the pearl-bearing shellfish is the oyster, but I love the imagery of oysters going ashore to be fertilized by dew from heaven. The idea of going out at night to watch the oysters migrate onto land and catch the dew is another thing I'm taking note of for a fantasy setting.

Nolthrigyo

Someone probably clocked this one: it's the murex snail, source of the famous "tyrian purple" dye.

Ormlalaehr

Really pushing the definition of "fish" here is... the tortoise. Technically also the turtle, I guess, since the author specifies that this includes land and sea varieties. This is, I think, one that makes total sense once you know what it is, so we're moving on to our last one, which is also really pushing the "what is a fish" envelope...

Riggmungku

This is the frog, also obvious once you see it. The fact that it's being called a fish really throws you off, though, I think.

And that's the whole lot. This has been fun, but I'm also glad to have it completed. (Well, completed with the exception of any responses to this one I've missed or that came in late.) Thanks to everyone who's been looking in on this project -- thanks doubly to everyone who contributed -- and thanks triply to the handful of people who drew something practically every week.

[chaifootsteps]

I just looked at all the new photos

Val with 2 guns-yep that script leak of him comparing them to dicks is probably true (also why is there a poster of himself with guns wtf??)

Vox in front of those TV screens-Jesus dude, my fucking eyes hurt looking at the clash of blue, white, and red

Charlie with drawings-Inside Every Demon is a Rainbow?? She gonna sing that or make a reference to it?

Angel and Husk singing-I don't know what it is, but Angel looks particularly off here.

"Vaggie"-I think her head looks too big/ she looks pretty off. I also had a headcanon she went to Hell because she murdered a r*pist or something. But she's a fallen angel now??? Can't wait to see this bullshit 💀 (also not sure if it's been pointed out but-*female angels named after women's genitals="Vaggie/Vagatha" 😐

Cherri-Why did they post her in her default pose? (Also I'm so sorry to Kendraws, fuck Viv for stealing her design from you)

Charlie/Rosie/Alastor-Where the fuck are your shadows??? This looks so fucking off and stilted?? (Same goes for that shot of Charlie in front of the bar)

Charlie/Alastor-God this should awaken something in me but it doesn't. This shot looks so bad dude. His face/mouth looks so off.

Carmella Carmine and two demons-This shot probably looks the fucking worst. Jesus, just look at how weird this looks.

Angel Dust on the bed-Wtf is this blank expression?? What did they do to you, Angel?? Also him sitting and flipping someone off-thats a weird shot too. I can't explain it but he just looks fucking weird.

Vaggie/Charlie pointing at her-their heads looks so fucking weird dude. Especially Vaggie's. Looks too weird.

Charlie/Lucifer-others are saying this too, but he looks (and sounds) like Charlie's older brother and not her father. Also... too much red. Why is he coated in fucking red???

The only shots I like?

Sir Pen, Vaggie hanging off the boat, Alastor w/horns/talking at his radio station, Niffty, the shot of the whole gang, Angel next to Niffty (his facial expression looks good here).

Dude... what the fuck is this. 4+ years of this?? I hope fans come to their senses and realize that these Same Face Syndrome Characters, overabundance of reds/pinks/whites, nauseating colors and camera work, animation errors, and garbage writing (based off script leaks) were not worth it, and all the money they spend on Amazon or merch, is not fucking worth it.

Guaranteed Viv spent most of the money on her precious Broadway actors to skimp on the animation (probably paid out of her own pocket too) THE THING SHE CLAIMS TO CARE AND LOVE THE MOST ABOUT.

Ashley, Michael, and everyone else, you guys dodged a massive bullet. I can't wait for this soulless train wreck to get mocked mercilessly online and Viv throws the biggest fit of her life, ruining her career.

https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/hazbin-hotel-first-look-images-225924646.html?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAHIjNqT0Jl_o-7-J3SHfddhr6J3nY3tqTd0ZdFImOs5jWYkh8qBlletTxbblu_dCrlewlryngDHkWqH33Cjhfx2Y7jGg_o2zb7cLstBTafmLx9rQxYQjcZC7FzDiwcFdZTA5VtQXeiCuOFtqohyXx6_0LcwqBQMDFwpPW5qC8scX

That moment can't come soon enough.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Love In Trouble [Part Two]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician, RPF

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character, Austin Butler x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Original Female Character, Austin Butler,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3582

Summary: Lori Presley lives the high life. She has a lovely home, a elegant wardrobe and her parties are the most sought after ticket in town. Not to mention her husband is the King of Memphis. But what if she no longer wants to be the Queen?

Tags/Warnings: This is a mafia au with detective austin butler entering the chat, Memphis Mafia, Detective Austin Butler, Adultery, Infidelity, Love, Angst, Unhappy Marriage, Murder, Court Room Drama in the loosest possible way, AU, Set in the 70s

Notes: I have this idea for a while but I’ve been deep in my marauders series so I’ve put it off. Is any of it written? NAH but it’ll be coming

LINK TO ALL PARTS // LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST

It was astounding how someone so young could have their life ripped away so suddenly and yet no one seemed to know how. In fact if Austin hadn't been so frustrated by the whole thing he probably would have found it sad. After collecting what evidence they could from the apartment they had done a sweep of the building, knocking on doors and asking its residents if they had seen anything that may help their investigation. All they had got in return was the same sentiments; Tony was a nice but quiet guy who kept to himself and never caused any trouble. And each and every one of them had given the same answer verbatim that on the night Tony was killed, which the coroner had established to be the thirtieth, they had not seen or heard anything. 

Now this may have been true because the coroner had said that whilst he couldn't be sure the definite time but he guessed sometime in the early morning which could explain why no one saw anything but from the amount of curtain twitching that went on around this town he wasn’t sure how anyone could possibly have missed a gunshot. But if people had heard it and were choosing to ignore a crime of this magnitude it only supported the theory running around the precinct.

He had thought John had been exaggerating when it came to the ‘Memphis Mafia’. Of course he knew that most cities had their mob problems but Memphis wasn’t exactly repping the levels of New York or Chicago. Which was probably why he wasn’t aware of the undercurrent that ran through downtown Memphis hidden behind the façade of music clubs and suave bars. Whilst John had told him about the reputation of Kings Bar and others under the same management his other colleagues had elaborated informing him with a certain amount of glee that this case was unsolvable especially if this had anything to do with the boss, Elvis Presley.

It had been a name Austin had vaguely recalled; a rising star some fifteen years previous who had burned out shortly after joining the draft. Unfortunately his fellow detectives had relished in getting him up to speed. Apparently after leaving the army the singer had found himself at a loss, his allure now dwindled in favour of the music of the swinging sixties. So unable to gain any traction in the mainstream he’d turned his sights on Memphis, buying up a run-down bar and turning into an arena for the music scene of the city. His own name was enough to draw people in and it had quite the reputation on the strip for being a good night out. Yet as business had boomed his notoriety had gained a different sort of traction and his good reputation had become debatable. It didn’t help that he had an egregious partner running half the show, a toad of a man called the Colonel whose own criminal past was just as questionable, or that he chose to staff his establishment with a gang of his cronies. Soon enough they’d gained a name and rap sheets to match with offences like racketeering, intimidation and bribery topping the list. There was also the rumour going around the office that their newest venture was using their many clubs to fence narcotics but the drug squad had yet to have any traction with that notion.

Not that it mattered. As Elvis Presley had gained notoriety he had also gained powerful friends. He knew people local government, the celebrities of Memphis and most importantly members of their fine establishment.

‘You might as well give up now,’ Robert Johnson, a fellow homicide detective had said as he’d appeared at the side of his desk where Austin had been pouring over his files. He didn’t particularly like Robert, even though he was the only one in the department remotely close to his age, because he had this air of smugness about him Austin didn’t gel with. And as he continued to speak Austin could see it glinting there behind his brown eyes.

‘What?’ Austin asked irritably.

‘This case,’ he said, sitting on the piles of photos on the desk.

‘And why is that?’ Austin challenged.

‘Because it’s unsolvable. Ain’t no one gonna speak out now they know it’s one of the Kings guys,’ he snorted. Austin had to clench his jaw, the vein in his neck throbbing in irritation.

‘A man has been murdered,’ he reasoned.

‘Yeah and if it has anything to do with his work friends bet your life no one saw or knew nothing. They run a tight ship you know. They’ve flown under the radar for worse,’ Robert said.

‘Well maybe it’s time they did get caught for something,’ Austin said, pulling his files from under the man’s backside with a grunt. Robert rolled his eyes, ‘and who’s going to prosecute them? The chief of police who gave Presley an honorary badge last year? Or the mayor who held a ceremony in his honour due to contributions to the city namely a fat stack of cash.’

‘They’re not the only people who run Memphis,’ Austin countered.

‘No, Presley and Parker do a pretty good job of that too,’ Robert said.

That was why he was sitting outside the bar yet again. He’d already been there once hoping that the patrons or workers would have some information on what had happened to Tony last Thursday given he had been working that night. But just like it had been with his neighbours it was a fruitless endeavour. His workmates had told him nothing was out of the ordinary that night and Tony had left on time after his shift. They hadn’t even felt under pressure when he’d enquired about him not showing up for work, suspicion weighing heavily in his tone, instead they simply cited that they’d assumed he had left town something that wasn’t out of the ordinary in their line of work, their service jobs apparently resembling that of a revolving door. So he didn’t know what he was hoping for now and as he climbed out of his Ford Mustang shutting the squeaky door he sighed. Kings was an old brick building on an intersecting corner of Beale Street. The outside of it was pretty plain, the blacked-out windows revealing nothing to the passersby but inside was a different story.

Every inch of the place was swathed in dark colours with leathers, silk and dark woods being the favoured choices for decoration. He supposed he could see the appeal should one want to frequent the infamous Beale street. It didn’t look too impressive now but at night, when the sunlight didn’t stream in through the windows and the lights were kept low he could imagine it had an aura to it only enhanced by the low chatter of patrons and the swirling of cigar smoke in the air. Of course at noon that aura wasn’t present and it kind of felt disjointed with the fluorescents, the daylight odd and jarring but it still had a presence to it. A notoriety.

Maybe that just stemmed from the way people took note of him the second he walked through the door, curious glances following him as he walked towards the bar looking around to see if he recognised anyone. There were a couple of older men in a booth in the back and a young guy standing at the far end of the bar. From what he could tell the guy seemed to be the bartender, hinted at by the dish cloth strewn over his shoulder, but he didn’t initiate anything. Even when Austin offered a small smile he didn’t respond, his eyes merely narrowing with suspicion. Unfortunately he wasn’t spared from the scrutiny as a man came out from a back door at that very moment taking him in roughly. He was quite tall, not much older than Austin if he had to guess, though he looked more weathered, his ruddy skin and receding red hair not lending itself the youthful air Austin still had in his thirties. 

Still scrutiny or not Austin put his best foot forward, offering the man an easy-going smile as he said, ‘hello.’

‘Can I help you?’ the man replied gruffly. Austin supposed he should’ve been thankful he wanted to get the chase but that meant he wouldn’t be able to angle the conversation as he wanted.

‘Uh yeah actually,’ Austin said straightening up, ‘I uh I stopped by the other day I had a couple more questions. I was just wondering if anyone else would be free to talk to me.’

‘Questions about?’ the man asked impatiently.

‘Tony Bowen,’ Austin said, ‘your employee.’

‘Oh him,’ the man said, his eyes flitting around the bar. They landed on a woman who was sitting at the other end of the bar but before Austin could follow his gaze he snapped his attention back and said, ‘you’re the detective right.’

‘Yeah, Detective Butler,’ he said, moving his jacket out of the way of the badge on his hip so that it flashed for a second, glinting under the harsh lights as he asked, ‘and you are?’ 

‘Red West,’ the man replied, ‘look, we already told you what we know.’

‘I know I was just wondering if anyone else could share anything. I thought having a couple of days to think might help jog a few memories,’ Austin said simply.

‘Memories like what?’ Red asked.

‘Well Tony worked here nearly eighteen months all told and no one seems to know much about him,’ Austin started, easing into his suspicions gently.

‘He kept to himself,’ Red replied and Austin had to fight to keep his face neutral even though he was wondering if that was the official company slogan at this point.

‘Really?’ he pressed gently, ‘because it kinda seems like a tight knit group here. Hard to imagine him not being friends with someone.’

‘Are you friends with everyone you work with?’ he countered. Austin offered him a tight smile but said nothing, hoping his silence would be enough to bleed something out of this stone of a man, ‘look he was some kid from the sticks of Florida who came here lookin’ for a job. We gave him one.’

‘And what was his job?’ Austin asked. When he’d first asked he’d been told Tony was a busboy or waiter, but before that he’d been questioning regular patrons who’d stated they’d hardly ever seen the boy working out front. He was always coming and going, ‘part of the entourage’ one had told him though he wasn’t sure what that call for.

‘Worked the bar,’ Red replied.

‘And what does that entail?’ Austin asked.

‘Whatever he was needed to do,’ Red replied, his soft jaw clenching in indignation as Austin eyed him dubiously, a scrutiny he was no doubt unaccustomed to these days even if he did relent to elaborate, ‘haulin’ crates and bussin’ tables.’

‘And he always worked inside the bar?’ Austin asked, already knowing that couldn’t be true.

‘That’s his job idn’t it,’ the man replied tersely, ‘look he came. He went. He didn’t cause any trouble. What else do you want me to say?’

‘He obviously caused someone some trouble,’ Austin countered.

‘Yeah well it ain’t nuthin’ to do with us at Kings so take your lil questions elsewhere,’ Red replied. Austin watched as he came towards him, flipping the bar flap over until it crashed unceremoniously in front of the detective before he pushed past him and out into the high sun.

Austin could feel eyes on him now though it was mostly patrons, the bartender having disappeared into the back at some point in their conversation. He half wondered if he had gone to get someone to remove him, back up should Austin cause any trouble. Yet as he sighed and turned to leave he heard a small voice say, ‘excuse me.’

When he turned it was the woman he’d not managed to get a proper look at. She was sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, her legs crossed elegantly over one another as though she was waiting rather than sitting there to be served. She was pretty, extremely so, soft pale skin complimenting rich chocolate coloured hair and dazzling blue eyes. In fact she looked like the epitome of a club patron even at this early hour, a short black dress ghosting along her thighs offset by the outlandishly large fur she was wearing. Given that it was knocking on eighty degrees he almost felt the urge to laugh but then it occurred to him that in here it was quite chilly something he hadn’t noticed it before.

‘Can I help you?’ Austin asked, realising he’d been staring far too long and she was now watching him unsurely.

‘Sorry to pry but I couldn’t help overhear,’ she said apologetically, ‘I just wondered who you were talking about?’

‘Uh, Tony Bowen,’ Austin replied, figuring it couldn’t hurt to cast his net any further seeing as his current capture was barren.

‘What about him?’ she asked quietly.

‘He was murdered Thursday night,’ Austin replied, watching a flicker of sadness come across her face though like everyone else in this place he recovered well offering little more than a, ‘oh that’s just awful.’

‘Did you know him?’ Austin asked.

‘What?’ the woman shifted nervously and then shrugged, ‘oh no, I don’t think so but it’s just such a tragedy isn’t it.’

‘Yeah one I’m not getting far with admittedly,’ Austin said, earning a sad smile.

‘Well I hope you manage to find something,’ she said, slipping from her stool and standing up, smoothing out her fur coat as she grabbed her petite purse from the countertop.

‘Thanks uh,’ Austin said realising he hadn't even gotten her name yet but she didn’t return it, already hurriedly swinging her bag onto her shoulder and moving around the bar as she murmured, ‘would you excuse me.’

Austin watched as she disappeared into the back room. He was inclined to wait for her but when the bartender returned, a scowl on his face he got the impression he’d long outstayed his welcome and headed back out to his car.

But when he got there he didn’t feel like going back to the precinct. Everyone knew where he’d been granted because most of them had told him not to bother, even John who despite being partnered with him on this case seemed to be happy to let the trail run cold in light of the overlap with the dubbed ‘Memphis Mafia’. Austin knew he was probably being foolhardy. That he was stirring a pot he probably shouldn’t get involved with but he wasn’t just going to stand by and bury his head in the sand just because it was risky. Just because of who Tony had been involved with did that not mean he deserved justice? Did his grandma, a woman who had sobbed down the phone to him for half an hour upon receiving the grim news, not deserve to know what happened to her grandson? Did the ‘mafia’ just get a pass because it was too much of an effort to try and get involved? No.

So, with that in mind he decided to do another sweep of Tony’s apartment. Sure, eye witnesses were getting him nowhere but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still other evidence to find. After all, even in an absence of evidence Tony’s home had shared a story. Maybe there was more to it to be found.

The apartment was just as barren as he’d left it though admittedly the smell had improved somewhat. The blood stain had long since dried but he wasn’t sure if it was that or the absence of a body that made it seem smaller somehow. In fact with just him in here now without the foot traffic from the sheriff's office it felt bigger now, lonelier. Just like his apartment did when he sloped in after a gruelling shift, the sound of the TV still not enough to shut out the thoughts whirring around in his brain.

He wondered if Tony had felt lonely in here. The lack of any art or personality on the wall made it feel like it was possible. Then again the absence of people in his life, or at least the absence of those willing to admit to knowing him, made it feel that way too. How could his grandmother be the only one who seemed to know or at least speak to him. How could no one pin down what role he had played in a company for nigh on a year and a half. It begged belief.

Austin moved around the room rifling through drawers but finding nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing in his medicine cabinet of note, merely a few band aids and a bottle of aspirin which he’d expect to find in any young person’s apartment. His mail, which John had so painstakingly gone through, didn’t hint at any trouble such as aggrieved parties or owed debts. In fact the only thing that took Austin’s interest was the handful of condoms in his nightstand though Tony was young and working at a club so that didn’t exactly scream concrete lead if anything it probably hinted at more than one lead entering Tony’s life for a very short-term basis.

Eventually he turned his attention to the bookcase. There wasn’t much on it but it was where most of Tony’s personal possessions lived. There was a stack of records next to a player which Austin thumbed through finding the boy to be a fan of Sinatra and Dean Martin. There was a shelf full of books, mostly sci-fi novels though they looked in good condition, the spines not even cracked which gave him the impression they were a gift he’d no intention of starting to go through or he was too busy to get around to it, which posed the question of what he was doing instead of reading. Trinkets cluttered the rest of the gaps. Old baseball trophies, a clock, a plant. Nothing out of the ordinary just like the photo frame that was nestled on a top shelf. It wasn’t very big but it was visible from where Austin had perched himself on the arm of the chair so he stood and picked it up looking at the photo encapsulated inside the silver frame. It was of an older woman and a young boy and it looked as though whoever had taken the picture had caught the pair off guard as the woman was sitting in a lawn chair with the boy standing between her legs, nestled into her as if they’d been hugging before he’d had to turn his torso towards the camera. He looked as though he’d been crying, his eyes red and puffy, but his smile was present. Behind him the woman was beaming a smile, her hand on the boy's hip as if to reassure him she was still there.

Tony and his grandmother, Austin reckoned as he smiled. It was nice to put a face to the name, nicer still to think of her like this instead of the sobbing wreck she had been when they’d interacted. And above all it was nice to know this young guy actually had someone in his life who cared for him. 

With a sigh Austin moved to put it back but as he did he felt something flutter past his fingers on the back of the frame. As he placed it on the shelf he noted a piece of paper had fallen to the ground in front of him onto the beige carpet. He bent down and picked it up, turning it to face him.

It was another photo, well a photo strip, and each individual picture showed Tony and a woman. Except this one was not a photo of grandmotherly affection. Each picture showed the pair nestled up in a photobooth, laughing and joking until they were entangled in one another, lips locked for the camera to snap away at. Austin felt excitement run through him at the thought of a lead. Who was she and more importantly where did she fit in with Tony’s life.

The woman with him was young with shoulder length brown hair and a sleek figure clad in a chic satin dress. In one frame she had her eyes closed and her cherry red lips pressed to Tony’s cheek. No one had mentioned a girlfriend before. Of course Tony had been in town eighteen months and this girl could’ve been anything; merely one date or an old girlfriend back in Gainesville. That might explain why it was tucked behind a photo frame, hidden from view but still accessible may the longing to spark a memory come.

Still without a name or hint at who she was, it didn't really help Austin. Though as he stared at the picture he couldn’t help but feel like he did know her. Then again how many women did he see day to day. If he could just place where he’d seen her maybe that’d help. Then all of a sudden it clicked and he slipped the photo into his back pocket, the picture of the woman on Tony’s lap and a sitting elegantly on barstool merging into one.

‘Didn’t know him my ass,’ Austin whispered.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @ccab

@i-r-i-n-a-a @lettersfromvenus @artlesson8892 @presleyenterprise

AUSTIN TAGS

@purejasmine @caitlin1996

[verdemoun]

The gang would go batshit over decorations in modern times, i think. Plants. Charles probably has a lot of indoor plants. Somehow he keeps them alive. The house is 70% kitchen 25% plants and the 5% is other stuff (aka Not Relevant).

I'm not sure what they're called in English, but those little gel fuckers you can stick to a window? Yeah that. I'm looking at them as I'm typing this shit. The first person to get them in shape of bloody handprints (again, what I'm looking at, I'm absolutely projecting) is sentenced to death aka a rant from Bessie.

PAINTING OH GOD. Let's be honest, those interested in building/house renovation are divided into two groups. Technical stuff, aka Charles for example, and decorating. They tried to paint on furniture at least once. And it's pretty!! Hey, carving into wood isn't the only option anymore, furniture can be colorful! Those girls on social media that paint furniture and it's funky but also rly pretty??? Yeah that's happening. *glances at mr morgan*

Same for wall decorating. You mentioned Lenny's uhhh right okay i forgot what it was called in the middle of typing. I am. drunk actually. sorry lol. But that wall where he's gonna figure out who appears next? Yeah that was the start. Then came notes for his studies. Someone saw that and had a wait you can do that??? moment. Posters appear soon enough. Abigail wishes she could have double sided tape in Beecher's Hope. Jack's old drawings would be up on the wall, much to his embarrassment. Luckily for him, nothing survived.

I'm so normal abt this au okay

Took a week to reply because this is just a yes and post absolutely 100% nailed it you get it. A+ gold star sticker like lost my mind multiple times over this. Welcome to the timewarp brainrot you get a name badge and t-shirt official uniform of people who just get it. We're all so normal here.

Arthur might have a garden bed outside full of herbs for cooking but Charles is the king of indoor plants. Arthur is banned from touching them because he will overwater them and Charles will give him the quiet treatment. The plants are on the couch if people are coming over Charles will grumble about having to move his plants. The gang absolutely believe they miss 1899 camping so much they are trying to make their house look as much like outside as possible. These are not traditional houseplants there are vines and flowers and a homemade hydroponics set-up growing vegetables.

I love that shit it was Sean he was at least self-aware enough to know he'd get in trouble and put it on the window of his trailer/caravan only to be woken up by Bessie who was originally panicked he'd been hurt and then threatened to hurt him herself for putting bloody handprints on the window like she wasn't meant to panic. Still gives her a heart attack when she walks out. Lenny got annoyed he has no talent for drawing meanwhile Arthur successfully covered the whole kitchen window with mock stained glass that makes the house glow with the whole color spectrum when the sun catches it just right.

Mr Poor rancher John Martson is the worst at hoarding road-side furniture, has accidentally brought bed bugs into the house at least once. However Abigail queen of youtube adores fixing up and painting furniture with Arthur's help if she texts he knows it's a solid 50/50 their sons are in jail OR she needs to borrow the soda blaster again. By borrow she needs him to come over and do it she refuses to learn herself she just likes painting. Loves painting. Best in-laws ever fixing up furniture together. Arthur does the fine details like cabinets with birds and plants painted on the side so intricately.

Lenny's murder wall!! When they realize how much easier it is to pin things to walls than it is tents they all absolutely go nuts. Bessie struggles so much not wanting to interrupt them learning they can express themselves and feel stable enough in their new home to put their own personality into it but Sean goes through a phase of putting up take-away menus instead of posters and photos just because colorful. Abigail is so determined to let Jack be a kid she knows her poor boy grew up way too fast and is still trying to act like an adult despite being 19 she wants him to know he's always her baby. He certainly isn't much of a artist anymore but she will frame serviettes he scribbles poetry and song lyrics on to his mortification. First time she went to a hardware store she 'stole' almost every single paint color swatch and just pinned them up for a bit before realizing wait I can actually... buy paint. First thing she did was paint the kitchen blue. Lets her daughter draw on the walls. The centerpiece is a massive print of the blueprints to Beecher's Hope they found in an history archive, framed above the wall mounted gas heater in place of a fireplace.

[jackobbit]

What are some hobbies the gangs have???

Got this question a good amount so here we go!

E.V.I.L.:

KC: She very rarely has any spare time bc her presence is demanded everywhere by everyone for business stuff, but they like going camping! He also goes on. A lot of Tinder dates. Like. A lot. Idk if dating counts as a hobby but for him it probably is. It’s gonna stay that way too until she stops scaring dates off. Aside from that, he loves going for walks, going to restaurants and talking to friends!! (If only he had any.) Very much a person who likes to Go Places and Do Things

Eclipse: Spare time? What spare time?? With that man’s schedule?? I think the hell not! What little time Eclipse gets to himself he spends sleeping and mentally prepping for his next shift, but, if by some divine intervention he got to do more then that on any given evening, then his ass is watching soap operas and movies on his couch and watching cat videos on tiktok during the ad breaks.

BM: Their hobbies include: robbery, listening to music, committing tax fraud, visiting aquariums with their yearly pass, terrorizing fast food restaurants, making unholy food abominations that somehow include blood in them, shoplifting, terrorizing their local hot topic WHILE shoplifting, adding to their knife collection, whatever random hobby they picked up for a singular weekend that their ADHD ass then dropped as soon as the fixation ended….. oh and they draw sometimes!

SF: Can’t answer this one bc spoilers, it’s not like huge spoilers but it is gonna be a really cute and fun thing that I want yall to see for yourself!

G.O.O.D.:

Earth: She likes to play the violin! Will sometimes write new songs but she doesn’t perform them or anything. She loves clothes shopping and putting together outfits in her spare time, she’ll also happily dress up anyone who asks her to. She also likes doing her own hair and other folks hair, makeup too! She’s a girly girl! She also loves playing video games and board games with her co-workers! She’s…. Fiercely competitive….

Sun: She loves listening to audiobooks in his spare time, he also likes to play the piano! Though he doesn’t make any new music of his own unless she’s collaborating with Earth on a song. Like Earth, xe also LOVES to play board games and card games, the group has special versions of the games they use that include braille! Going for walks, knitting, and making crafts are also a thing she finds really fun, he just really loves doing more calm activities, with the exception of game nights!

Moon: This fucking nerd is modding video games in his spare time and putting in another 20 hours into Stardew Valley or Minecraft. You’d think with how many threats he makes that Moon would be into more violent video games like battle royals or team based shooters but he takes after his brother a lot in the whole ‘I prefer relaxing hobbies’ department. He also finds great joy in building things and coding, making neat little gadgets that don’t do anything particularly special but do something neat! Oh, and weapons, of course. If he’s not building a silly little device then he’s reenacting Myth Busters or some shit or trying to make a weapon that does something outrageous. “A rocket powered hammer does not exist but *could* it?” Also loves driving around the city rather than walking, clears his head.

Lunar: Lunar shares a lot of hobbies that the other members of the group also happen to have, he loves playing video games and making crafts! They also like watching dog videos! Funnily enough, he’s picked up scrapbooking, and I’ve already mentioned how he’s picked up learning braille. He also wants to learn how to play piano or the violin from Earth or Sun but he’s too nervous to ask.

[boodlesofdoodles]

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

So like I think maybe Charlie is actually really good at baking?? He’s probably memorized a few of Bonnie’s recipes and occasionally bakes himself something when he’s feeling upset. Kind of a coping mechanism to actually bake, and the familiar smells that fill a kitchen comfort him as much as the taste of his mom’s brownies do. There’s a sense of pride that fills him when he gets the recipe exact. He really only knows a few recipes, and he’s DEFINITELY super secret about it. Baking is something that makes him feel kind of embarrassed and he doesn’t let the gang know about it.

He might let Mac know eventually, maybe Mac is feeling down or he’s sick or something and Charlie is like “whenever I felt sick mom would bake me something. Fuck it I’m gonna make Mac something.” and brings over a small batch of cookies, careful to hide it from Dennis. Mac is absolutely dumbfounded that the cookies are so good and tries to come up with a scheme to start selling them almost immediately lmao. Charlie is not at all interested and after a lot of insisting, Mac finally gets the hint and just enjoys the cookies and his buddy’s ability to bake. Soon enough Mac is secretly encouraging Charlie to bake more often (and have him taste test everything he makes, obviously) and after a few times visiting realizes Charlie really only makes like 4 things. When Mac asks him about it he gets immediately defensive, rambling like crazy, “Why the hell would I need to bake more stuff? Are you saying my Mom’s stuff isn’t enough, dude? My mom makes really good stuff. You��re over here drooling every time I make you one of her recipes! Don’t go saying shit about her stuff, Mac. You love this shit, I don’t need to make other shit.”

“No, no! Charlie, Christ dude, fucking calm down, will you?” Mac trying his best to deescalate the hostility he accidentally brought on the pair of them. “I’m just saying maybe you should branch out some more. It could be fun to try some new stuff, is all!”

I don’t feel like writing out a whole conversation rn but basically it boils down to Charlie not really understanding the measurements, and it trips him up too much to keep trying new recipes; that’s the reason he sticks with what he knows. At first he did try looking up some different recipes but got extremely frustrated and felt so stupid trying to understand it. Nothing ever came out right so he just gave up on other stuff. When it comes to Bonnie’s recipes he doesn’t even need to measure anything he’s made them so much he just eyeballs it and it usually comes out relatively the same every time, which is good enough for him. The ‘Mac hanging out and just keeping Charlie company while he bakes something’ quickly comes to an end; now Mac is teaching Charlie the metric system and what different abbreviations in recipes online mean. He goes out and buys measuring cups for Charlie and shows him how to use them. He makes a cheat sheet with easy to follow drawings of the different measuring cups and which ones he needs to use for cup, ounce, tablespoon, etc. They try out new recipes together and Charlie starts to become more confident with it. Eventually he goes over to Mac and Dennis’ with a new recipe he looked up and tried all on his own, without Mac there to help him with reading all of it and Mac is SO incredibly proud of him. Gushing about how good of a job he did :,) anyways yeah that’s all I got I just adore the idea so much I needed to get it out of my system. As someone who’s autistic (like we’re pretty sure Charlie is) I personally love to bake because of how precise everything is as compared to cooking. I don’t have to think about how it’ll come out and I don’t have to experiment with anything. Just follow very clear instructions. I think Charlie would feel the same way and enjoy the 0 guesswork that goes into the process of baking from a recipe. Thank you if anyone read all this. PLEASE comment or message me or fucking anything about what y’all think about this concept

[madaboutmunson]

Black Denim Trousers & Motorcycle Boots (Sweet Home Chicago Series - Part 2)

Summary for overview of the whole fic can be found here

For @eddiemonth 

Week 2 prompts used: Times Like These - Foo FIghters, Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi, Determined, Adventurous, Soulmates, Monsters, Come As You Are - Nirvana

Warnings: None that I could think of, but let me know if you feel any should be added, and I'll do that straight away :) 

Romance/Fluff Word Count : 9.6K

Ao3 Link

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Eddie wakes with a start. An uncomfortable stiffness in his back and a numbness in his arms make themselves known quickly as a coffee mug appears in his view.

“Morning, sweetheart. I wasn’t gonna come in, but you didn’t answer, and I got a little worried,” she sits on the corner of his desk and starts picking up some of the pieces of paper that he can now see are littered all around him, “But when I saw you fast asleep on your desk, I thought I better wake you up. I know you don’t like to be late.” She smiles at him a little knowingly. He knows she can tell. He just hasn’t been brave enough to say it outright yet, and to her credit, she hasn't pushed. But he knows how obvious it is that he loves spending his days at the grocery store. He knows when they are both finally home, and she asks how his day was, he would try in vain to be calm and quiet about it, “Yeah, was good. Got a lot done.” But she’d wait a while to see if any further information would come her way before asking, “Was Steve there today?” that would just start the lengthy gushing about every little thing Steve did that day. It felt fine when he was in the midst of it, but as soon as he paused, he’d feel embarrassed, sometimes guilty. It was customary to be enthusiastic about friends, right? Especially new ones. 

Eddie knew that wasn’t why, and he got the sneaking suspicion his mama knew that too. He just wasn’t ready to have that conversation. He hasn’t been prepared to have that conversation since Wayne caught him with the huge A Streetcar Named Desire movie poster that Eddie had broken into the local cinema to retrieve for his own after learning that most movie posters just got plunged into storage, overhearing one of the ushers in the malt shop. He’d enacted the escapade alone for fear his fellow gang members wouldn't buy the fact that he wanted it for Vivienne Leigh, as he’d never mentioned her before. In hindsight, they probably would have just believed him if he’d told them he’d done it because he could because that's what he did back then. He didn’t need a rhyme or reason to rebel; he just did it to feel something he had control over.

And if Eddie hadn’t had Little Richard blasting out of his record player, if Eddie had remembered to just lock his door, or even if Eddie had just been listening the night before when Wayne had said he was going to be back earlier than usual, because a bunch of jobs got cancelled, then maybe, just maybe Wayne wouldn't have walked in on him running his fingers over the man on the poster. Eddie had tried to bolt, but Wayne had grabbed hold of him and sat him down, asked him to explain, and Eddie had lied. He’d told him he just wanted to be like him, that it was no different to the cowboys he used to draw or cut out of the paper and stick to his wall.

Wayne, god love him, hadn’t got mad, just blinked a few times and apologised for grabbing his arm. Asked if he was okay, “You never need to run from me, son. Not for anythin’.” And because he had no reason not to, he took Wayne at his word, but that moment plagued him for longer and much more profoundly than he cared to admit. As if to play into his lie, he decided to embody a version of Brando. The Wild One. 

He’d worked hard alongside Wayne until he’d saved up enough for an old beat-up motorcycle that he slaved away to fix up. He practically begged Wayne for a new pair of 501s and scoured the thrift shops for old biker jackets, but ended up finding one when scouring a barn for parts with Wayne one day. It was a little big, but Eddie didn’t mind. Got himself a used pair of black boots, one of his Grandpa’s old belts and a hat, and he looked the part. And whatever Eddie did, his little minions followed.

But that wasn’t enough for Eddie. He didn’t just want to look like Johnny. He wanted to become him.

It was easy to act cool when people were scared of you and your gang, and it was easy to kiss girls and make them cry when you were never into them in the first place. That's the thing about rebelling in a small town. Quickly, you run out of things to fight against, and soon, much to Wayne’s displeasure, Eddie had the town almost bending to his will, sometimes through charm but primarily by fear. Guys wanted to be him, and girls wanted to be with him, and that was great when it was impressing your friends, but it didn’t mean anything to him when he lay in bed at the end of the day. Somewhere along the way, this lonesome cowboy on his steel horse lost his north star. He wasn’t the hero taking on a stuffy old town that kept its youth down. He had become the villain. And as always with these sorts of things, he quite quickly became the scapegoat for anything that went wrong in that place.

As he sits up, a piece of paper joins him on the journey to being upright, and he peels it away from where it is stuck to the side of his face.

He tries to remember what he had been working on last night as his mama sips her coffee, and her vibrant eyes move over each page as she picks them up. Then it hits him, and he frantically tries gathering up the papers around him.

“Eddie! What's gotten into you?” She laughs and holds the paper away from him, “These are really good. Why are you hiding them?” 

“Well, uh, well…because they aren't finished. Yeah, they aren't finished,”. He lies quickly, and his mama’s piercing green eyes narrow at him and stare directly into his own.

She hands him back the sketch in her hand, “I just like seeing what you’re working on. It doesn't need to be perfect. I’ll leave you to it.” Eddie’s heart races in his chest as he nervously turns over the piece of paper his mom had been looking at and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it is a drawing of the hero for his book. A knight who had no name or story yet, but one thing was for sure. He was a hero, a real one. One that wouldn’t lose his way. Perfect in poise and noble in deed.

Eddie shuffles through the other pages. 

The knight changes from armour and brandishing a sword to being dressed in peasant clothes that hug his sculpted body and holding an apple.

A page or two later, and all the false premise is stripped away.

Soft eyes that, even when narrowed by the sunlight, still look kind. The long lashes splay out elegantly, which he’s taken a little artistic licence with because he still hasn’t gotten over them since the first day he met Steve. His fingers trace along the slight crease at the corner of one of the sketched eyes, and soon he’s moving from beauty mark to freckle and back and down until he meets that handsome jawline, moves through the stubble that frustratingly can’t be felt. Only urging his fingers to tentatively brush over the lips that only ever spill gentle words to him.

“Eddie!” His mom calls out, and he nearly falls out of his chair due to being alarmed out of his daydream. He quickly shuffles all the papers together and shoves them in his drawer. “You want some eggs, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Mama, that’d be great!” he calls back, breathlessly clutching his chest. 

Eddie shakes his head and drops his head into his hands. He felt awful. Steve and his mom hadn’t shown him anything but kindness since he got here, and here he was, having these thoughts about Steve. He imagines how horrified they would be if they found out. These thoughts were wrong. He knew that. He just couldn't seem to keep them under control.

Nothing he had read about this kind of attraction made it seem like an accepted ailment or condition. It was something you had to pray or force out of a person. If Eddie had been sick with anything else, he’d go to a doctor, but wasn’t it still illegal? He guessed it didn’t have to be unlawful for the public to take matters into their own hands. Not that he’d ever acted on any of it. Almost a few times, but nothing more than a lingering touch or something that felt like a kiss was on the horizon, but the sun never rose on those opportunities. Just an expanse of unknowns shrouded in shadow.

But as he sits there, he recalls how his dad spoke about Eddie being made out of pure love. So, no matter what layers he or the world draped him in at his core, that’s what he’d always be. A walking, talking personification of love. If that were true, how could anything he felt be so terrible? It would be fine if it was a girl, right? But the fact remained that the world said it was wrong, whether he understood why it thought that or not.

He knows that’s why his mama uses sweetheart above all other terms of affection for him. He remembers how she would say his smile could light up the darkest room and how his scowls only deprived the world of what it needed most in hard times. It was a dramatic statement, but he clung to it when he struggled with these things, like a scraggly worn scrap of a comfort blanket that reminds him that at his centre, he’s good.

He also knows that’s why Wayne didn't berate his bad behaviour when he confronted him about his slightly more-than-friendships with girls. Wayne explained that if something wasn’t for him, he should leave it alone. Eddie had made his point that he could get all the girls he wanted, but he didn’t have to continue to leave broken hearts in his wake any more. To begin with, he thought it was just that, a confrontation to address another tearful girl that Eddie had led on because she found him flirting with another girl the next day. But throughout the discussion, Wayne gently prised open his rebel armour at its weakest points with careful questions and sympathy.

The way he’d started that conversation stone-faced and defensive and ended up a tearful confessing mess against Wayne’s shoulder never failed to make him get choked up when he recalled it. There was no punishment, no lecture, just flannel-wrapped arms holding him tight. Rough, hard-working hands brushing over his hair and kisses on his head between words of reassurance and relief.

Eddie did tone his behaviour down from then on like the confession had freed him of a constant irritation that had been lingering just out of reach for years, but it was far too late. Hawkins had made up its mind, and that might have been his first forced step towards Chicago.

He could start over here. He could leave that old life behind and learn how to live all over again, even if that included learning to hide some aspects of himself. Maybe his dad was just wrong. Perhaps regardless of his parents, he was resigned to a life alone. Would that really be so bad? If he couldn’t love a girl non-platonically, he could aim for something else, couldn’t he? If he could be successful professionally and keep himself safe? That could be more than enough. He could morph attraction into just an appreciation of beauty. He could do this. He could change his stars.

With a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, he pushes down the self-loathing and love worries and starts his day over.

The rest of his morning is terrific. Being up early with his mama means he’s too early for the goons on the stairs. He strolls down by the river until the school kids dwindle and then heads to the grocery store. And just like every morning, rain or shine, the canopy is extended, and his personal table is already set up against the window. Steve’s handsome face greets him within moments, offering him espresso and a heart-stopping smile. He accepts both gladly, and though today seems busier than usual, Steve still takes his smoke breaks with Eddie. Flicks through his notes and drawings, but one element was missing today, and Steve’s adorably creased brow isn’t happy about it.

Steve grips either side of the table and wiggles it. Looks to face the same way as Eddie and looks around confused. Then, finally, he looks above him and back to Eddie, “Everthin’ alright for ya today, Ed?”

“Yeah, just perfect,” Eddie beams back at him. Because it is. Everything is perfect when Steve’s around because he eclipses everything else.

The curious look doesn't leave his face as he leans back in his chair to light a cigarette and leans one elbow on the backrest of it, “You feelin’ ok?”

“Oh yeah, the best,” he replies enthusiastically because that was true, too. When he had Steve’s attention, he felt he must be the most special person on the planet.

“ ‘Den, what's goin’ on here?” he waves the hand holding his smoke over the sketches strewn across the table. Eddie looks down at the table as if to check for anything incriminating, but there isn’t anything.

“You don’t like them?” Eddie asks tentatively.

“Oh, uh, I like ‘em plenty, just, uh,” Steve’s honey-brown eyes scan the table again before flicking back up to Eddie’s, “Well, where is he?”

“Well, he’s right…” Eddie shuffles through the sketches. He finds various fruits and their arrangements, coffee cups, an empty version of the chair opposite him, a few trees and a sunset, “Oh,” he says, looking back up at Steve. The realisation the character he’d been working on, the knight, was nowhere to be seen in word or picture.

“You homesick?” Steve asks compassionately

“No, I don’t think so,” Eddie answers genuinely because whilst he does miss Wayne, he does not miss Hawkins.

Steve hums, looks over the pictures again, “Say, uh, did you try one-a da cannoli we send home for your ma, sometimes?” The change in subject is odd to Eddie, but he’s glad of it.

“God, yeah!” Eddie replies quickly, eyes widening at Steve, “I was trying to describe them to my uncle, but I had no idea how because I’d never eaten anything like ‘em. The best I could come up with was it's like a pie tube, with the creamiest sweet filling and candied peel that cuts right through and balances it just perfectly, but, uh, needless to say, he just laughed at me. But when he visits, I’ll make sure to buy him one. Where do you get those from anyway?” Eddie finally takes a breath after enthusing over the delicious pastries that Steve or his mom occasionally put in with his shopping.

Steve smiles hugely, “I know-a-guy,” he takes another drag on his cigarette, “Anyways, you don’t like dis knight no more? Is dat it?”

Eddie shrugs, “I dunno. I guess, um, he’s just not inspiring me today?” he awkwardly smiles at Steve, whose mouth downturns a little, but he nods.

“Oh, did he do sumthin’ wrong…in da story?” Steve asks as he stubs out his smoke, not looking at Eddie.

“No, it's not like that. It’s kinda like, somedays I get up, and all I can think about is the story and everything the knight is, was and could be, and on those days, I can write about him or draw him for hours. But then, some days, he’s just not there. Or he is, but I just don't wanna write or draw about it, you know? It’s just inspiration. Sometimes, you arrange the oranges in a pyramid and decorate the table, right? With grapes and whatever those things are, and some days, you just put the crates out. A spark of creativity,” Eddie overexplains and feels a little embarrassed, revealing something that must sound utterly ridiculous to Steve, who works hard every day regardless of how he feels. He does it because he has to, for his family.

Steve tilts his head, looking Eddie over, probably trying to figure out why he said such strange things or got so animated about them. A small smile reappears, “Figs,” he says finally.

“Figs?” Eddie asks, one of his hands gripping tightly around the side of the chair seat, fearing he might float away straight up to cloud nine if Steve keeps looking at him like that.

“Yeah, next to the grapes,” he points over to one of the odd-shaped things and looks back at Eddie, “Figs,” He repeats, and picks one up and cleans it on his shirt.

The fruit looks a lot smaller in his hands. As he holds it between them, tearing it open easily, he offers half to Eddie, who shakes his head, “Oh, no thank you. I’m good.” It's a strange thing, purple on the outside and on the inside a halo of yellow around a red fleshy centre.

“I ain’t steered ya wrong so far,” Steve says simply, putting one-half of it midway between them on the table. He smiles at Eddie and turns his attention onto the street, raising the fruit to his mouth.

Until this moment, Eddie didn't really know why the story of Adam and Eve didn't sit right with him. Sure, he hadn’t read it in-depth, just vaguely remembered it. Sure, it was a story to explain creation because, at the time, they probably had no other reasons as to why humans were on this planet. But the thing that always bugged him was that they apparently used fig leaves to cover themselves up when their innocence was lost after Eve took a bite of an apple, so surely the nearest tree would have been an apple tree. But as Steve's full lips push against the skin of the fruit he’s flipped inside out, a droplet of juice spills out of the corner of his mouth and races towards his elegant jawline. Eddie realises that maybe something had been lost in translation, and perhaps Eve had bitten into a fig, just like this, because nothing so far in his existence has been this tempting or felt so forbidden, as he watches Steve bite into the fruit to consume it. Desperate for the knowledge of how it might feel to have his lips right where the fig is. He realises he’s staring at his mouth, but as he flicks his eyes up, Steve doesn't appear to have noticed, thankfully. To prevent himself from openly drooling, he picks up the fruit and copies how Steve ate his half, even looking out onto the street to avert his eyes. Though he’s absolutely sure he doesn’t look anywhere near as good as Steve looked doing it. Due to concentrating heavily on trying to compose himself, the sweetness and flavour take him completely by surprise. He makes an involuntary, pleased noise and eats the whole thing.

“Told ya,” A voice softly says in his ear, and he jolts with surprise, only to find Steve leaning across the table into his space. They laugh at Eddie’s over-the-top reaction, “You know it’s said figs are food of da gods. Maybe you’ll feel like writin’ again soon enough, huh?”

Eddie can only smile as his stomach somersaulting like a circus act prevents him from forming a coherent response. Because all his brain wants him to do right now has very little to do with writing or drawing.

His pulse is almost rumbling in his ears, at least that's what he thinks it is initially, until the noise becomes clearer, and the butterflies in Eddie’s stomach vanish and are replaced with a plummeting feeling when he recognises the noise. 

Motorcycles.

Eddie thinks his past has caught up with him. He knew someone would come looking for him eventually, for a fire he didn't even start. He frantically goes to gather his things, but Steve’s hand is on his shoulder, and Eddie can’t look. Was this what this was? Had he befriended Eddie to keep him in place for that motorcycle gang? 

“Hey, easy, buddy. Dese are just my friends. They ain’t bad,” Steve smiles reassuringly, “Dere hygiene and sense-a humor maybe.” Steve’s hand on his shoulder radiates a soothing warmth, almost like a sedative spreading through him from the point of contact, “No more espresso for yous today, huh?” Steve laughs light and melodic, and Eddie finally smiles back.

“Sorry,” Eddie says awkwardly.

“ ‘S ok, buddy. I get it. Remember, you’re safe here, yeah? I-we won’t let anything happen to ya. Promise,” Steve says with such an earnest expression that Eddie can only believe him. He turns his attention to the bikes pulling up, and stands to greet them.

The four guys are dressed in Eddie’s old day-to-day uniform. Leather motorcycle jackets, black boots, jeans. An odd bunch, he thinks. The first guy, who looks like the leader, has the most confident strut, pulls up first and is walking ahead of the rest, his hair in a jelly roll style. To Eddie's surprise, just to his left is an African-American guy with a dimple on his upper cheek as he laughs at one of the others stumbling with their kickstand. His hair was in a pompadour style, cut in that style rather than straightened and styled. Next is a tallish, thin guy with small features. His sandy blond hair is cut in a similar style to Steve’s but a little longer and unruly, and last of all, a Latino-looking guy with the longest braided hair Eddie thinks he’s ever seen on anyone.

The one at the front runs up to tackle Steve, and then all except the sandy blond pile in also, and all four of them end up falling into one of the displays, as Steve laughs along with them, grabbing the little one in a headlock.

“Shit, Steve, not my hair!” he yells.

“Aw, come on, Gaz, doesn’t matter how good your hair looks, you’re always gonna have dat little chipmunk face of yours,” Steve laughs but lets him go.

Eddie feels someone looking at him and turns to find the slender guy staring at him. As Eddie averts his eyes, he notices his name painted in beautiful cursive on his jacket. Jonny. There was a time when Eddie would have stared right back at him, but not this new Eddie. Not his second-chance version of himself. 

Steve eventually prises himself from the others and walks over to shake Jonny’s hand, “Good to see ya, Jon,” he says, but the only reply he gets is a silent nod before walking around the table to stand next to Eddie.

“Alright, ya bunch of assholes, calm down. Dis is Ed. He’s new round here,” Steve looks and smiles at him, and Eddie returns it and gives a weak wave to the others.

“Hi,” is all he can think to say before turning back to the street, “Nice wheels,” he says.

“Thanks, man,” says the one with the long braid, who picks up an apple from the stall and bites into it.

The little one steps forward and thrusts a hand out to Eddie, “I’m Gareth, that’s Jeff, Argyle and Jon, but most people know us by Hellfire. The Hellfire Motorcycle Club.” he says proudly, turning to show the painting on the back of his jacket of some kind of devil with a long forked tongue, surrounded by flames. Eddie nods at each of them in turn.

“So where you from then?” Jonny asks.

“Indiana,” Eddie answers with a smile.

“And you came to the windy city because….” Argyle asks, taking another bite out of his apple.

“I, uh,” Eddie glances at Steve, who gives him the slightest nod and smile, “I wanted to write,”

“What, you can’t write back home?” Jeff laughs, “What happened? They take away all the stationery in Indiana?”

Eddie laughs, “Uh, no. I mean, I want to be a writer, and I thought coming here would be more inspiring, you know?”

“How much does that pay then? Writin’?” Gareth says, curious as he picks up one of Eddie's drawings off the table, pulls an impressed face at it, and shrugs, passing it to Jeff.

“Oh, I dunno, honestly,”

“Doesn’t sound very secure,” Jeff frowns and passes the drawing to Argyle.

“What if you don't make it as a writer? You got a backup?” Argyle asks.

“I honestly haven't thought-”

“Got your own place?” Jeff asks quickly

“No, I live with my-”

“Hmmm, yeah, haven't thought about it, got it,” Johnny says, “You from a big family? You Italian?”

“No, and No, but-”

There is a collective groan from the motorcycle club.

“So whatcha sayin’ is you ain't gotta job or income or your own place, and you ain't even Italian?” Gareth laughs.

“Is that- Is that bad?” Eddie looks instinctively at Steve for reassurance due to the barrage of questions he is facing.

“But what are your views on fruit on pizza?” Argyle asks

“I don’t really eat a lot of-”

“You got a ride?” Eddie snaps his head to Gareth again and shakes his head.

“A girl?” Jeff asks as Eddie's head whips around to him, and he indicates negatively again.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, you shitbirds. That’s enough,” Steve shouts, and they fall to silence as he turns to Eddie, “ ‘Scuse us for a sec, Ed” he says apologetically, and the gang follow him inside.

Eddie decides to give them a wide berth and looks at something comforting. The motorcycles themselves. God, that was an absolute embarrassment. He could have been much cooler about it, especially with Steve there. Oh well. Eddie looks over briefly and can see them in the window in an intense discussion.

Gareth has a virtually brand new Honda Dream C71, two of them have different year versions of the BSA Bantam, and last of all, someone has his old bike, a 1950 Thunderbird. This one wasn’t customised to look like the one out of the movie like he’d done with his own, but there had been, what looked like, some abandoned attempts. He reaches out, runs his fingers along the gleaming paintwork, and quickly retracts them, remembering how touchy he’d been if anyone even looked at his bike for too long. Whoever this one belonged to took excellent care of it.

The bell ringing over the door gets him to his feet before anyone can startle him. Steve waves him over, “Ed, come ‘ere, da guys have somethin’ to say,” Eddie swallows nervously but tries to put on a slight air of confidence and smiles at them all.

Gareth tilts his head at Eddie, “So, we’s just wanted t’ say, we didn’t mean to make yous feel uncomfortable, OK? You’re just new, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. No issues here,” he puts up his hands and takes a breath, “I was just looking at your bikes. They’re real neat.” He offers the verbal olive branch of changing the subject.

“You like motorcycles?” Steve asks a little oddly. He sort of sounds a little disappointed.

Eddie lies quickly, “I mean, my friend back home used to let me ride on the back of his sometimes. So I think they’re neat, is all.” Eddie cringes at his overuse of the word neat, like some little kid.

“He did?” Steve almost sounds slightly annoyed, but Eddie can’t determine why. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“And this friend of yours,” Gareth says, tearing his eyes from Steve to land on Eddie, “You still talk to him?” 

Shit, what if they think he was involved in some rival gang or something, “No, we lost touch a little while before I decided I wanted to move here.” Eddie, desperate to ease the tension he seems to have created, smiles around the group, “Just different life paths, you know. It goes that way sometimes.” Steve returns his smile, and Eddie's heart almost packs its bags to move into Steve’s hands immediately.

“Also, sorry ‘bout that comment earlier regarding’ your job. Guys like us are happy with our feet on the ground, you know, and I forget sometimes the world needs people to shoot for the moon,” Gareth offers him a shrug of a smile, and he does seem genuine in his apology, but the way Steve nods at his friend, makes him think that maybe Steve had jumped to his defence in the store, and Eddie tries desperately not to grin wildly at that thought.

Steve's eyes cast up for a moment in thought and then move towards the ground before he checks his watch, “I’m sure I could borrow some wheels if you ever miss it,” Steve shrugs, lighting a cigarette, and all four heads of his friends snap to his words, “Ain’t dat right Jonny boy?”

“Yeah, course, Steve, she’s yours anyway,” Johnny quietly agrees.

“No, no. None a dat. It’d just be for today or whateva,” Steve smiles at Johnny and then Eddie, “Unless you got plans?”

“No, not at all. That’d be great. I’ll leave a note for Ma-my mom and be right back.” Eddie says excitedly and packs up his things.

“Hey Arg, can I ask you somethin’?” He hears Steve ask, and the five of them disappear into the store as he walks back to his apartment.

Thankfully, the coast looks clear, so he heads inside, leaves a cute note for his mama, and is about to leave again when he pauses and goes to the bathroom cabinet. Score! There was some cologne in here. As he picks it up, a piece of note paper falls out. He picks it up to put it back and notices it’s yellowing. His curiosity gets the better of him, so he opens it.

For my soulmate:

The most beautiful star in the world

Take me in your arms

Lead me in my dreams again

I'll sell my soul for it.

What is it worth? 

Only you know

Eddie quickly folds it back up, feeling a little embarrassed. It was probably something private of his mama’s.

He adds a few extra pins to his hat to keep it from flying clean off and grabs a warmer jacket.

As he leaves the building, a set of familiar voices make him sigh in exasperation.

“This ain’t Hellfire’s place, Jonny. So why don’t you just go back to riding Steve’s coattails, huh?” Billy snides.

“I don’t know how many times we gotta tell you three morons to leave people alone around here. And for your information, this building is the concern of Hellfire now. So what you wanna do is turn around and go and crawl back into the dumpster the three of you ghouls crawled out of,” Jon fires back, and inside, Eddie has to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Oh yeah, and what if we don’t care about Hellfire’s new rules from its new asshole of a leader?” Tommy seethes.

“Well, how can I put this? If you don’t, the matter is gonna get escalated, and then it’s gonna be out of our hands. So I suggest you just run along now, so no one has to get hurt,” Jon says calmly.

“Oh, I see how it is. You're recruiting this new guy, are ya?” Jason asks spitefully, but Jon just laughs in response.

“Well, you should know, he’s a fucking creep. Was sitting here drawing pictures of Nance and the two Harrington girls,” Billy offers, and Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh, was he?” Jon says, sounding almost intrigued.

“Sure was, bold as anything, ogling them,” Billy continues, and Eddie can almost see the sly grin on his face. He should just step out there before this gets worse.

“Thing is William. I actually have conversations with my girlfriend and actually have friends. So when Nancy told me about your performance here, she said Rob and Max told her he’d ended up at the store. I called Steve. And guess what, guys,” he says with sarcastic surprise, “He was just drawing the surroundings and saw them first. I’ve seen it, it’s terrific actually. Steve’s Ma has it hung up already, and most importantly, Nancy and the girls never had a problem with him. They, as per usual, just wanted to get away from you,” Eddie hears the venom in Jon’s voice and the rustle of his leather jacket, and he knows that shift in stance, so he steps outside to interrupt.

“Oh, hey, Jonny,” he smiles at Jon, which seems to defuse the situation. He turns to the others with a smile, nods, and walks down the stairs, “Gentlemen.”

As he and Jonny reach the bottom of the stairs, Billy calls out, “Nice to see you still resting on Steve’s hand-me-downs, Jon. First a jacket, then a bike, and then his girl. What next?” Billy and his goons laugh together.

And something about the judgement entirely rubs Eddie the wrong way, and he turns on his heel to face the three of them to say something. But then there is a hand on his shoulder, and Jonny calmly smiles, “Ooooh William, time to get some new material, maybe? You’ve been tellin’ the same joke for years now, and no one with more than one brain cell of their own has ever laughed at it. Come on, Ed. Let’s go,” he says, and they walk back to the store.

Once they are far enough away, Eddie dares ask, “You ok?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat those guys. They bark a lot, but only one has got any bite,” Jon stops before they get to the store, “Just try your best to ignore them, ok? Steve’s Ma don’t like ‘em anyway, and if you end up in a tussle with them, so will Steve, and then well…things will get escalated,” Jon looks at him seriously, “Steve’s a good guy. We don’t want him getting into any trouble, capiche?”

Eddie looks puzzled at him.

“Understand?” Jon tries again, and Eddie nods, “Also, what he said was true. Steve did give me his jacket and old motorcycle, but Nancy, that’s different. They were together but not, you know?” Jon says, and Eddie nods like he understands, but he doesn’t at all, not that it matters. “Anyway, you been enjoying your days at Heartbreak Hotel?” Jonny chuckles, and Eddie screws up his face in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Jon starts but reads the puzzled look on Eddie’s face quickly enough, “The constant stream of pretty girls that keep coming to the store for Steve but just end up leaving with groceries they probably didn’t need?” he laughs.

Eddie shakes his head, “I noticed it was busier today, but I was drawing, so I didn’t register who or anything.”

“Huh,” Jon half-smiles at him and looks him over, “Didn’t look up from your drawings all day?”

“Oh sure, when Steve was on his break,” Eddie says, understanding what he means now.

“But the rest of the time, not one single girl caught your eye?” Jon questions and Eddie begins to see how weird this might seem.

He fakes a laugh, “I just mean, I didn’t really engage with anyone else other than a glance. Number one, I didn’t really come here to date. It's not like I have much luck in that department, anyway. Chances are, if I make the whole writer thing, I stand a better chance, right? If I got tied down now, I’d have to get a job that paid me actual money for bills and dates instead of living off savings. My writing wouldn’t get a look in. And number two, drawing and looking at people only leads to trouble, or at least that’s what I’ve learned the last few weeks,” he pauses, “I’d really like to get the chance to apologise and explain to Nancy, Rob and Max sometime. Just so they know I’m not a creep.”

Jon puts his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him into his side, “You know Ed, I get the feeling you’re gonna get that chance,” Eddie is a bit weirded out by the physicality, but he doesn’t mind it. Jon lights up something that smells familiar to Eddie, but it’s not a cigarette, “If it’s any consolation, what I said was true. The girls didn’t move because of you. Nancy is pretty observant, so if she had felt threatened by you looking at them, she would have moved them all on someplace else.” He adds as they walk to the outside of the store.

The bell above the door rings as they step in front of it, and Steve skips a step or two on his way out and looks between him and Jonny, “You sure made friends fast,” Steve says with a huff of a laugh.

“He’s just a likeable guy, Steve,” Johnny says, giving Eddie a pat on the back.

“He is, ain’t he?” Steve says kindly,  half-smiles and then quickly looks at the bike, “Ready, Ed?”

“Yeah, yeah. Absolutely,” Eddie claps his hands together and is glad for this moment of waiting for Steve to get situated on the bike first because Steve looks gorgeous. That is just the facts. He’s beautiful and kind, and that is more than enough. But he’s looking exceedingly handsome right now. He’s traded his regular footwear for some engineer-type boots, and his hair is combed back into a place a little more, but the jacket is really causing Eddie a problem. It was style-wise just an ordinary leather biker jacket. Except this one was a mid-brown colour that seemed to make the colour of his eyes even more entrancing somehow. Like they were no longer merely functional parts of a human being but impossible, magical orbs that might turn him completely to stone if he looked directly into them. The leather is well-worn but not damaged, just lots of lines of use. The stitching is elegant, and he’s flicked his collar up against the cold.  As he sits on the bike, he fusses with it.

“Guess I’m not as small as I used to be,” he huffs out a small self-deprecating laugh, and Eddie doesn't miss that divine blush that just hits his cheeks. There is no way Steve should feel any less than the most stunning thing on the planet. Not on his watch.

“I couldn’t even tell. Looks like a perfect fit to me. It’s real nice,” Eddie says as he swings his leg over the bike to sit behind Steve, and this already feels like a mistake. Being this close. If the visuals were not enough to send him off into orbit, the smell of leather and Steve’s cologne was a heady love potion on their own.

Steve looks over his shoulder, “Thanks. Uh, you haven't even asked where we are goin’.” 

“You haven’t steered me wrong this far,” Eddie says, trying not to grin back wildly, placing his hands on his own legs. He sits back to create a suitable distance between them, but there are some things he can’t prevent, like the way his knees have to sit on either side of Steve’s hips. It makes him violently jealous of maybe all the past girls who had sat in this seat before him but were able to wrap their arms around him. Rest their heads against his back, maybe even hear his heart beat fiercely for them as they ride off into a perfect sunset.

The journey itself is pleasant. Eddie sees parts of the city he hasn't seen before whizz past him, and due to the steady speed Steve is going, he can fully enjoy the wind occasionally rushing against him as he lets go and doesn't fight the bike with his body in the turns. He thinks about all the times he’d ride at night just to feel the wind rushing through his longer hair under the moon's light.

They stop near a park and dismount. Eddie looks around the vast park in wonderment. Sure, Hawkins had the woods, the lake and the quarry, but this place was so curated.

Steve walks a little ahead of him, does a full turn with his arms outstretched, and shouts, “Welcome to Lincoln Park, Eddie,” he flashes a huge smile as he waits for him to catch up. Eddie can’t even imagine being this proud of Hawkins if their roles had been reversed.

“So, um, what are we doin’ here?” Eddie asks as they stroll along together.

“We’re going to look at what I’ve been told is da most inspirin’ thing in d’ world,” Steve smirks mischievously, and Eddie can’t help but glance over as his heart flutters in his chest at the thought that Steve is such a good person, he’s trying to cure Eddie’s lack of inspiration, “Stars.”

The word jolts Eddie out of his daydream as Steve slows to stop outside a large building, “But it’s nearly two in the afternoon. We can’t see the stars.” Eddie responds, confused.

“Oh yeah, dats right. Well, I guess seein’ as we’re here anyways, I could show you some other weird stuff?” Steve says with a shrug.

“Weird stuff?” Eddie scrunches his nose in bewilderment, but the smile doesn’t leave him.

“Come on, Ed. Live a little. It’s a super scary museum,” Steve jokes, wiggling his fingers at Eddie. 

“I’m not scared,” Eddie says, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh yeah?” Steve smirks.

“Yeah!” Eddie says defiantly and walks past Steve into the massive building alone.

Apparently, it's the Chicago Academy of Sciences, and the science Eddie had stumbled into was zoology. Around him are many wooden glass-fronted cases of various sizes, all showcasing animal life. Some exhibits were tiny things containing bugs, others were great dioramas of an era or a setting, and then there was the set of large bones that towered over the place belonging to a mammoth.

Eddie doesn't think he’s ever seen anything like it in his life. He can only stand there and gawk at everything because he doesn't know where to go first.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Steve says as his arm envelops Eddie’s shoulders, walking him around the virtually empty place.

“Neat is one word for it sure,” Eddie tries to say as calmly as he can, but he hears how soft it emerges from his mouth, not like he could help it when he's pulled into Steve’s side like this.

Steve’s free hand waves out in front of them across the room as the other grips his shoulder, “‘Dis place, Ed, I thought it might help ya out, ya know? If you wanna create a monster, all da references are right here, ain't dey?”

Eddie knows that all that is holding him back from fully embracing Steve and his kindness right there and then is prison, death and losing maybe the best friend he’s ever had. Why did he care so much about Eddie’s dreams? Didn’t he have one of his own?

“Wanna play a game, Ed?” Steve asks, turning his head to him, and Eddie can only reflect the radiant smile being beamed at him. A lowly mortal in the presence of the embodiment of the sun itself.

Steve checks his watch quickly, “Ok, we got ten minutes to run around here, find an animal, pick a part of it, and draw it roughly, or write it down.” he fishes in his leather jacket pocket and pulls out some paper scraps and a pencil each, “Den, we switch animals, got it?” 

“Um, why are we only drawing bits of the animals?” Eddie laughs as he takes the items from Steve.

“Creatin’ monsters, o’course!” Steve shouts as someone shushes him, and he gives Eddie’s shoulder a final squeeze before running off towards a deer. 

Eddie’s legs feel like they won't budge, or maybe he’s afraid of walking in case they buckle beneath him. He’s sure if he doesn’t soon, he’ll become an exhibit himself.

Lovesick Homosapian 1959 - Donated by S. Harrington.

He walks to the nearest exhibit and starts making a rough sketch of the body of a stag beetle. It's a very minimal sketch because, try as he might to keep focussed on the task at hand, he can’t help but keep looking over at Steve, who is adorably crouched, resting the paper on his thigh to draw. His tongue pressed between his lips, and his brow furrowed in concentration. Steve must sense his stare and turns toward him, “Done already?” he grins and indicates they trade places.

By the end of the ten minutes, they crowd next to one another to pour over the results. They both have some fascinating creatures on their pages, made with elements of beetle, deer, squirrel and flamingo elements.

Eddie went for the body of the beetle, the multiple legs of the deer, the two heads of a flamingo, the arms of a squirrel and the tail.

Steve’s was…well…it was kinda cute, even though it was still weird-looking. The legs of a flamingo, the body of a squirrel, the head of the deer and the wings of the beetle. It’s also quite impressive for someone Eddie has never seen draw. He hadn't even mentioned it. Then Eddie realises he never really asked either.

“Wow, I really like your one,” Eddie enthuses over Steve’s drawing.

“Ya do?” Steve says excitedly, and his face looks almost like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear it, but the expression fades as quickly as it appears. Steve shakes his head and looks down with a laugh, “Ah, ya got me. Good one.”

“I’m not kidding. I do like yours better.” Eddie says, pulling the drawing towards himself from under Steve’s fingers. “Though it doesn’t seem very monstrous. Seems kinda sweet, honestly.” Eddie teases and turns to his friend, whose sweet brown eyes are waiting to cut off his breath, and tries to refashion it into a sigh, which somehow Eddie manages to swallow down, and turns back to Steve’s drawing, rolls it up like a scroll and puts it in his inside breast pocket, “Seems only fair, you already have one of mine.” 

Steve doesn't say anything, just keeps that gentle smile on his face as he lightly tugs Eddie’s elbow to follow him, but sadly doesn't keep hold of it.

Steve stops outside a huge, tilted back, painted, partial globe. Protruding from it is a rectangular box with seats in it. At a complete loss, Eddie turns to Steve, who looks at Eddie from the corner of his eye, looking pleased, but says nothing.

An elderly man approaches them, and his face lights up, “Steve?!”

“Da very same,” Steve answers happily.

“I haven't seen you in a while. Everything ok?” He says, coming forward to kiss Steve on each cheek, and his eyes fall on Eddie, “Nice to meet you, welcome to the-”

“No. Don't tell him,” Steve quickly interjects, “It's a surprise. He’s not from here.”

“Oh, ok, no problem.” The man opens the door to the rectangular type box, steps inside and seats himself, and waves them in.

Steve nods towards it and goes in next. Eddie follows him inside. As he sits down next to Steve, he barely has time to enjoy the sensation of brushing arms with him when the whole thing starts whirring and the box they are sitting in starts moving into the orb, and as they do, the globe begins to close over them, until they are plunged into complete darkness.

And that's when Eddie starts to see them, the stars.

The machine whirs, and the sky turns, allowing them to see more constellations. And Eddie is entirely in awe even lets out an audible gasp a few times, causing Steve and the greying gent to snicker. But Eddie couldn’t care less. Here he was basking in a marvel, the ability to see the stars any time of day, irrespective of weather, and this was all happening due to the incredible man shuffled up next to him. A feeling of disappointed acceptance begins to gnaw at him and threatens his unabashed joy. He’d found this amazing person who goes to such lengths to help him with something that most people would find trivial, yet he could never have him as his own.

He’s glad it's dark in here, so Steve can't see the frown that sets onto Eddie’s forehead as he thinks about how furious society makes him, that it asks him to be kind and loving but be tough and never show emotion. Asks him to show love freely, but only in the confines of heterosexuality. Tells him to take his time to appreciate the world around him but forces him to hurry along and keep his head down.

Steve shuffles next to him, breaking him out of his momentary lousy mood, and reminds him that whilst he can’t have everything he wants, he can capture moments like this and keep them for his own forever, and no one could take those away from him.

The machine whirs again, and light fills the space as they exit the contraption, “The Atwood Sphere,” The greying gent says as they leave, looking amused at them before waving them goodbye.

Eddie clears his throat, “That was amazing! Did you come here a lot as a kid?”

“Yeah, and no. My pa used to bring us here after he’d come home after da war. The navy used dat for training navigation, ya know.” Steve replies.

Eddie feels the question on his tongue but is frightened to ask, so he rephrases it, “What an incredible thing to share with your Pa. Bet he knew a lot about the stars and things like that?”

“Oh sure, yeah. Wish I could remember more of da stories he told us dat lived in the night sky.” Steve says a little quieter, “Did your pa do the same?”

Eddie chuckles to lighten the mood a little, “Couldn’t shut up my dad up. He had a story for everything. Especially if it had anything to do with my mama.”

“A romantic, was he?” Steve chuckles, and it's like music to Eddie’s ears.

“That is an understatement. Pa’s crazy about her.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh yeah, think I found a piece of his poetry to her earlier,” Eddie smiles and glances at Steve for his reaction. To see if he frowns or ridicules at the softness of a man towards his wife, but Steve only smiles and nods.

“What was it about?” Steve happily asks.

“Something about a star and a soul,” Eddie tries to remember, and Steve hums as they walk. They enjoy the quiet for a few steps outside the building before he continues, “You ever heard the story about soulmates?”

Steve turns to him and raises an eyebrow, “No.”

“Well, in the legend. Humans originally had four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. They had started to become quite powerful and threatened to rule over the gods, and Zeus didn't much like that at all. The gods were gonna wipe out the humans completely, but they needed the humans to offer tributes, so they had to come up with something else,” Eddie clasps his hands in front of him, “So they decided to split humans in half as a punishment, to remind them of their place, and at the same time would double the tributes offered.”

“But wouldn’t dat make twice as many humans to rise up against them?” Steve asks curiously, and the fact that he’s actually been listening makes Eddie put a little more performance into the story. Jogs a few steps ahead of Steve and animatedly tells the rest while walking backwards.

“Well, it should have, except for one thing. The humans were miserable, and without their other half, they didn't care if they lived or not. Also making their tributes dwindle,” he stops dead in his steps with a finger in the air, and Steve does too with surprise-widened eyes. Seemingly fascinated in the tale, “But Apollo hated seeing them this way, so he sewed them up, leaving them one physical reminder of their true original form. The humans never quite rose up like that again because even though they were healed, they still longed for their other half, not just their body, but the other half of the soul too.” Eddie finishes with a flourish of his hand and a bow. Immediately after which, he regrets it. This was the part of him he’d been trying to keep under wraps. Showing off was his old self, not this one. But he hears the one thing most performers can’t resist. Applause.

Steve is smiling and clapping his hands, and Eddie feels the heat rise to his cheeks as he turns around and falls into step next to Steve, “So yeah, that's the legend about soulmates.”

“I hadn’t heard dat before. Thanks,” Steve says as they approach the gleaming Thunderbird. He turns and looks curiously at Eddie, “Say, you wanna take us home?”

“I, um, I don’t even-” Eddie starts to lie.

“I don’t think dats true at all. I think you can ride, and I think you had a bike like dis one,” Steve says with smug confidence.

“How did-” Eddie tries to ask, a little flabbergasted.

“Well, because I used to talk to your ma a lot when she worked on things at da store and apartment for us,” Steve laughs but doesn't seem mad that Eddie lied, “You ain’t gotta be anyone else but you ‘round me, Ed. We’re good. Everyone’s gotta past.” 

Eddie realises that perhaps he isn’t just accepting the version of Eddie from before, but also he was inviting Eddie to accept him too. Clearly, he wasn’t just randomly friends with a motorcycle gang, and he didn’t just magically have a bike lying around to give to Jonny. And with what Jonny had said, there was more than just a bunch of kids watching out for Steve.

“Sure,” Eddie smiles, “Sorry,” he adds an apology, and Steve nods, tossing him the keys, which Eddie fumbles to catch as they almost drop to the floor.

Eddie sits at the front of the bike and barely has a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of the handlebars under his grip because Steve is already clambering on behind him, and he has to brace his legs and lean his own weight against Steves to keep the balance. Not that he minds in any way. It's clear Steve is not accustomed to being the passenger as he struggles to get seated, using Eddie as a supportive climbing frame. 

“All set?” Eddie asks as he looks over his shoulder to see a glimpse of Steve, who gives him a thumbs up. But as he turns his glance back to the road ahead, he sees how Steve's thicker thighs are at his sides, and he’s elected to put his hands on his knees and a glimmer of mischief enters Eddie’s mind as he starts up the bike.

He pulls away much too quickly on purpose and feels Steve's large hands grip his waist, “Uh, sorry about that. I’m a bit rusty,” he shouts back as he slows down. Steve’s hands release him but come back to smooth over his jacket where he’d latched on and shuffles forward slightly. 

The city looks different as the sun sets on it, bathing it in both the last remnants of its glow and the coolness of approaching dusk. It feels almost like the city is waking up for its second shift as more lights from homes and signs begin to illuminate as they travel. It should be calming, but that is impossible due to the rate at which his heart is racing.

Eddie can barely breathe when he feels Steve’s legs squeeze around him as he moves, and the mix of his body heat and Steve’s almost makes him feel like he might overheat. But rather than panic, he tries to relax into it, as occasionally Steve leans forward gently to point out the turning he needs to take. It makes Eddie wish it wasn’t just a primarily straight road going home because every time they come to a turning, Steve would extend one arm out to indicate, and his other would rest against Eddie somewhere. His hip, his waist or shoulder, and each one comes with surging electricity of magic that pours through the threads of the fabric of his clothes, seeps into his skin and makes his heart and soul spin like characters on a carousel along to the music of Steve’s occasional laugh when Eddie takes a corner too tightly or pulls away from a light quickly.

Sooner than he’d like, they are nearing home, and Steve points towards Eddie’s apartment, “You sure?” Eddie shouts.

“Yeah!” Steve affirms, and Eddie pulls up outside the apartment building.

They stand near the bike for a while, and it feels familiar. And he knows it's not. It could never be, but it looks a lot like all those times he’d dropped girls off at their houses after taking them on a date. Except he’s not in his usual role. Regret swirls as he thinks about all or any of those girls that might have felt like he does right now, as he looks at Steve smiling back at him from the bike.

Almost like he can read his mind, Steve tilts his head curiously. “Can I ask you somethin’ Ed?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Eddie blurts out as he is dragged out of his thoughts.

“Dat story you told me earlier. ‘Bout da soulmates. You didn’t say what happens when dey find each other.” Steve asks, looking at Eddie but toying with one of the zippers on his jacket, “Or don't dey?”

“Oh well, my pa said that there is no escape,” Eddie laughs gently, “They are drawn together over time, and when they finally do meet. They just know. Like their souls do all the understanding for them, so they don't have to work it out. They’ll feel whole and happy. Like the happiest they ever felt, kinda thing.”

“I like dat,” Steve smiles hugely, “See ya tomorrow, Ed,” he says with a two-finger wave and starts up the bike to ride back home.

Eddie watches him ride the short distance away, and suddenly, the chill in the air makes itself known. He huddles his jacket around himself and climbs the stairs to the doors of the building before turning back to watch as his waiting friends swarm Steve outside the store. His laughter on the breeze makes Eddie smile again, and he finally turns to go inside.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some extra bits of info if you are interested:

Notes: The Building they visited was the Chicago Academy of Sciences in Lincoln Park https://naturemuseum.org/explore/history/

The Atwood Sphere was based in this building until 1997 when it was moved to the Adler Planetarium.

[lilysmiles11223345]

ITS BEEN A WHILE BUT I DID IT \o/

I was able to finally get myself to finish these drawings >:D this post will be about my characters in @bobmirum ‘s mafia au!! :D

Your au is lovely and it’s given me many cool story ideas >v< so many I could not fit them into here properly -w- im hoping to be able to write a fic with those ideas and maybe post it soon! :D💗

TW: Some of the info will be very dark, there will be lots of serious topics! this au is based on something already pretty serious irl(mafias)- so Ofc I had to add my own spins <3

~read more for the info/drawings!~

~fiore(Anthea)~

“A kind and gentle florist, one that just so happens to be peppino’s childhood friend. She seems to see the good in most and that includes peppino— as she is completely clueless to him being the right-hand man to a mafia

To be fair, peppino does try and keep her in the dark about it too- she isn’t allowed to visit any of his restaurants for this reason. But it does seem that the idea of peppino being in such a situation is a topic she’s most oblivious on. As if she couldn’t really see him as evil in any shape or form— and if she knew, perhaps that wouldn’t change at all.

There are times she can defend herself, though there are rumours that a traumatic event happened in the past that had caused her to have forgotten parts of her past— including the traumatic event. peppino was there for the event, and wants to keep her safe and protect her from danger like that from now on. Though, Knowing it’d be risky if she got too involved with him he doesn’t visit her often, but when he does he still can’t help but get a bit soft…

Though when someone on pizzaheads side discovers their closeness.. will Anthea still be shielded from all of this?”

Fun fact! I came up with this whole backstory before I even knew about this au <3 it was for normal evil peppino at first! I just changed It ever so slightly for the mafia au! Though I understand the love for evil X evil I also really like evil X oblivious sweetheart so much >v<

I also decided her being a florist would be best in this au >:3 like to imagine that peppino listens to her ramble on about flower meanings— and eventually he started secretly asking her for flowers to give secret messages and stuff >:D she probably does get the meanings of the messages he’s putting together with flowers but because he just says they are for one of his restaurants she just brushes it off, thinking it’s slightly odd.

~mutey/masky(mute)~

“A loyal guard dog. Masky is apart of pizzaheads little gang- and to an extent Darling’s part of it too, though cares more about Noise than anything else involved. They and noise had known each other since childhood- and have had history together. Noise was there for most of masky’s trauma— so they are greatful and plan to stay with noise through anything.

when noise started gambling— they didn’t really like that, but felt powerless to stop him..

Instead they opted to help noise in other ways, making sure to protect him and doing little things for him. Now and then they would slightly try and protest on the addiction, but when that failed they wouldn’t do more but continue to stay by his side through it.

Now, they ended up working at pizzahead’s casino with noise— though they never wanted to be involved in the first place they wouldn’t want to get out of this mess without noise— so they silently repress their own feelings and do any job they are told to.

..though if it ever came to them finally standing up for themself, and disobey darling.. would they still be alive to keep noise happy?”

Mute is probably the biggest simp in this au AND that’s saying something 😭👍

Like normal mute also can’t talk- so they’d have to find some other way to communicate such as cherades, a whiteboard or a voice box ^w^

Noise despite not really realising how important they are to him— understands mute very easily still too..

Since noise seems more focused on making money in this au - it takes a while but eventually he comes to realize how important mute truly is to him.. but, the problem is it may be too late before that happens 😔👍

~whippy/sugar(Chelsey)~

“Whippy works for pizzaheads little gang, but more for Darling herself. She used to be a highly trained assassin but with some “small talk”, Darling was able to “convince” her to work for her. For the most part she is only needed as a bodyguard for Darling, though there are times she is given jobs to kill someone.

With such a cold expression, you’d expect a heart completely void of love. Though this is what she’d like you to believe— not only does she take care of two orphaned twins as her own siblings (after her real ones died in an “accident”), she had caught feelings for a specific cop(vigi).. and even fully knowing that her love was unrequited - she couldn’t stop herself from getting a bit soft around him.

It’s possible that this crush weakens her slightly, and may even make her hesitant to do one of her jobs in the future..

Though if it ever came to him being her target, and the safety of the twins relied on it— how could she ever deal with the possibility?”

Yeah if you thought mute gets hit hard in this au- Chelsey’s angst may be a contender for my favorite in this au~ she is completely taken over the edge and never will be able to be truly happy 😔

Cause yeah, it’s possible mute and noise could get together maybe- but Chelsey and vigi? In this au?? Impossible. Poor Chelsey 😔👍

~darling(mrs.Neapolitan)~

“a sweet face huh? Her charm and mesmerizing features are enough to fool most into a false sense of security- though Darling has never been the most sane of people.

She’s definitely good at keeping up a sweet and caring persona to most, though in reality she enjoys most people’s suffering, and is pretty manipulative to others. This goes to all she knows, except for one..

Pizzahead.

It’s unknown at how long they’ve known each other, but a while ago she had joined in on helping with pizzahead’s gang, working for the casino in secret and keeping her “mostly” innocent makeup brand separate.

She’s madly in love with pizzahead and is very loyal towards him, she watches others that work for him (and her) to make sure they keep in line, and isn’t afraid of dispelling punishments to those she sees are lacking slightly..

When she figures about the quarrel between peppino&gustavo’s gang and pizzahead’s gang, she immediately takes matters into her own hands to find a way to take peppino and Gustavo down..

And when she discovers peppino’s weakness, his childhood friend.. let’s just say things get a bit interesting..~”

I made her so pretty but so evil,, I hope you guys still like her 🥺

I did really like having the chance to do a human design for her~ I hope her design still translated her ice cream themes!! <3

Fun facts:

-You will find that all the characters names in this au (or well- nicknames) are names someone important calls them . “Fiore” is what peppino calls Anthea, “mutey” is what noise calls mute, “sugar” is what vigi calls Chelsey, and “darling”.. is actually just what everyone calls her but yeah ;v;’ it originated from pizzahead. :D

The only two with seperate nicknames that others call them is Chelsey and mute , others call mute “masky” and Chelsey “Whippy”. :)

-I have ideas for the missing two ocs too (strawbetty and Evi) BUT Evi’s doesn’t have enough structure yet and strawbetty’s will come later— it’s definitely boring compared to everyone else’s story’s LOL <3 strawbetty’s nickname would be berrie tho!

-mute was just starting to warm up to noisette and even crush on her too when noise and her broke up- they had to quickly get back on noise’s side after.

I hope you like them!! As I said I’m trying my best to write a fic with what happens to them all~ I may post it when it’s done! ^w^

also I put alot of effort into this but it’s possible I may have messed up somewhere and I’m so sorry if I did! ;v; I hope you all like it anyway ^^

May even skip ahead to do the good parts, who knows >v<

That’s all for now, thank youuuu!! QwQ

P.s I will draw the canon mafia au characters as soon as my brain lets me!! >:D