#I'm a sad tumbleweed

[neon-garbage-angel]

god i miss yuri on ice so much it hurts

[clover-the-awesomest]

I.

Uhm.

I guess it makes sense. Like. You have a weird shark-headed king guy who dresses like he's still in the 90's with buff Donald Trump arms. And he's up against an anime kid who's literally named Death.

It's pretty obvious this random child was gonna win but you can't blame me for being a little peeved can you??

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Hey, y'all! This update is extremely late & I'm so sorry for the wait (that rhymed lol don't look at me). I've been so busy preparing for my new job in August & getting ready to start school that updating this story slipped my mind lol. BUT I am still writing it! I really wanna finish this story. So to make up for the slow updates, I decided to drop three new chapters instead of two. Please enjoy! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

SEVEN: HIT ‘EM UP!

You arrive in the tiny, dusty, damn-near abandoned town of Bull’s Creek by the next morning. 

You three didn’t stop for a night of rest, only taking breaks to feed the horses and let them rest their hooves before continuing on your journey. Most of what you do is on Reneigh’s back: brushing your teeth; eating your snacks; power naps. You now feel sweaty and tired, but not exhausted, only happy to finally be at your destination. 

Bull’s Creek is as depressing as it is quiet. Nothing moves but a tumbleweed that noisily rolls across the dusty road among the disturbingly quiet shops and boutiques that you’re sure once were brimming with life and vibrancy, but are now dingy and sad-looking. “Beauty, ain’t it?” Gojo sniggers as he and his horse totter beside you. 

“Where is everybody?” you question, feeling eerily uncomfortable with the silence. You half expect to be ambushed because of it. “Most of ‘em moved because of Benji’s crew members takin’ over,” Geto explains. “Sad. Most of the civilians had been here for years, but couldn’t take the terror anymore.” 

“Buuut,” Gojo interrupts with a grin, “lucky for the ones who stayed, we’re here! And we’ll make sure we send the baddies on their way.” You continue to look around for someone, anyone, in this ghost town. “So how are we supposed to find these guys?” you ask. “Just ask around?” 

“Exactly that, little miss,” Geto chuckles, suddenly coming to a stop in front of you. “And we’ve found just the spot.” You and Gojo stop your horses in front of a small saloon where you can just hear the sound of music and chatter. Gojo hops off of his horse first and goes to help you down, but you ignore him, choosing to get down yourself. 

You walk by, ignoring Gojo’s pout, and look up at the bar’s sign coated in dust: “Bull’s Bar,” you read, hearing Gojo giggle. “That’s so original,” he comments as he pats the holster carrying Hollow Purple.

He goes in without even waiting for you or Geto, but his partner doesn’t seem to mind. “The woman who wrote us asked us to meet her here in her letter,” he explains as he walks you inside. “So she should be…” 

His words die when he opens the wooden doors and lets them swing shut. The sound of them creaking is the only sound among the silence in the bar. The bar is small with tables covered in cowskin, bullheads mounted behind the bar, and every eye in the place on you, Geto, and Gojo, including the piano player in the corner. 

It’s beyond uncomfortable and you feel your face prickle with nervous sweat beneath your bandana. But Gojo and Geto are immune to discomfort as they confidently walk towards the bar. “Rough crowd,” Geto mutters under his breath. You nod in agreement, keeping a close hand on your hip. 

The bartender watches you come to the bar and sit, slowly wiping off a glass. He is tall and burly with unruly, spiked brown hair and a lollipop sticking out of his mouth. “So what’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here, mister?” Gojo kindly asks. 

The bartender doesn’t say anything at first; just continues to stare you all down. The music hasn’t resumed yet and that makes this moment even more tense. “Kusakabe,” he says, his voice smooth and rough. “What will y’all have?” 

Gojo’s smile widens, pleased. “Jack n’ Coke for me and my partner; Sherly Temple for the lady.” You shoot him a look that could kill. “All Jack n’ Cokes, please,” Geto sighs, passing Kusakabe a couple of coins. He takes them and nods, still giving you a suspicious look that has your skin crawling. 

“U-Uh…excuse me?” a small, feminine voice asks behind you. You turn, finding a young, petite girl with long, sky-blue hair cut into a bang standing there, looking nervous. “You’re Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, right?” The duo turns to face her now, making her face go beat red. “That, we are, ma’am,” Geto says, tipping his hat at her. “And you’re Miwa, I’m presumin’?” 

The girl damn near pops a blood vessel. “T-That’s correct, yes!” she stuttering replies. Another young girl with two blonde ponytails comes up beside her. “You ain’t ask ‘em to sign your book, Miwa?” she snorts. “That’s all you’ve been talkin’ about since we showed up here.” Miwa gapes at the girl, mortified. “Momo!” she shrieks. “That was private!” 

“Miwa!” a male voice calls suddenly from across the room. A young man comes hurrying up to the two girls, tall and handsome with a spiked, black ponytail and a scar on his right cheek. “Are you alright? Who are they?” He ticks his eyes between you three suspiciously. “Mechamaru, it’s okay,” Miwa soothes him, gently stroking his arm. “They’re here to help us.” 

“Friends of yours?” Gojo chuckles, not at all phased by this. Mecamaru glares at him. “I’m her boyfriend, actually,” he sharply corrects the gunslinger. Miwa nods at Momo who barely even smiles. “This is Momo. She’s a Bull’s Creek native, just like me. She told me not to write you guys!” 

Momo narrows her eyes at her friend. “Way to throw me under the bus,” she huffs. “It was only because I didn’t want more trouble comin’ into this town!” Geto nods understandably. “We ain’t here for trouble, little miss…well, not the kind that’ll get y’all killed. We just want the four we came here for.” 

“And who would that be?” Kusakabe asks suspiciously. “Who the fuck are y’all to come into my place of business askin’ around like y’all own the damn place?” You go to put your hand on your glock, but Gojo stops you, shaking his head at you. 

“We don’t mean no harm,” Geto gently says, “but we’ve got business in this town and with her.” He nods at Miwa. “She wrote a letter to us askin’ for help to save you from the four takin’ over this town.” 

The three younglings share a wary look with each other. “Don’t say their names,” Mechamaru warns. “They’ve got a tight hold on this town already. Last I heard about them is that they’re livin’ up in the mountains beyond the creek among the riches they snatched from the town.” 

“We’ll take you to them!” Momo excitedly announces. But Mechamaru shakes his head. “No,” he firmly says. “You two are stayin’ right here. I’ll take them.” While Momo tuts in disappointment, Miwa looks damn starstruck by her boo. 

Gojo gulps down his drink, finishing it off with a burp. “Fine with us, just as long as we get to where we need to. But before that…” He takes an ink pen from his pocket, smiling at Miwa. “Who wanted an autograph?” 

But before Miwa, who has now turned red, can hand over her book, Kusakabe stops her. “Hang on.” He leans over the bar toward the three of you, his eyes deadly and intimidating. “You get them and then you get the fuck out of my town. We don’t need no more trouble here.” 

With a silent nod, you three agree and Mechamaru guides you into the mountains.

*********

The creek is quiet when you make it up the hill. 

Too quiet. Though the soft sloshing of the water should be comforting, it’s damn disarming to you as you walk with the duo and Mechamaru along the creek yards away from Bull’s Creek (funny enough). The air is sweet, the sky is blue, and you know danger lurks. 

You finally come to a shabby-looking house up on a grassy hill yards down from you four. The roof is missing some tiles, one wall is caging in, and it looks abandoned. “They should be in there,” Mechamaru says, pointing at the house. “They stay there because there are trails in the woods to escape through if the law ever happened to sniff ‘em out. But they haven’t for months because so many people are too scared to speak up for fear of being killed.” 

The young man stares you all down as you silently examine the home. “You gonna get them out of here?” he asks, hope in his eyes. The duo doesn’t answer, so you do, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mechamaru,” you gently say. “We’ll take it from here.” ‘Yes, we’ll get them out of here for you.’ 

Mechamaru seems to be happy with your words. Meanwhile, Geto is stringing up the horses to a nearby post while Gojo spits his cigarette out of his mouth and crushes it under his heel. This is just ordinary work for them. “Go on back to your girl,” the white-haired outlaw says with a wink. “She’s a cutie.” 

Mechamaru narrows his eyes, but doesn’t say anything back. Instead, he backpedals and hurries back the way he came towards town. Once gone, you follow the duo up the hill to the small house, the grassblades tickling your ankles as you move.

Finally, you come to the wooden front door padlocked shut. “So how are we doin’ this?” you ask. “Do we just bust in there and–” 

You’re rudely cut off by Gojo’s foot smashing into the padlock, forcing it open. The door opens with a long creaking sound like in a horror film.

The way this house looks feels like a horror film too: stained, old furniture in the living area; dishes in the kitchen sink and rotten food on the counter down the long hallway leading to the back door; ripped curtains covering the stained windows, making the entire downstairs dark and dreary. The smell in the air is rotten and rancid like something died in here. You cover your mouth despite the bandana covering your lower face. 

As you creep inside with the duo, your hand on your holster, your eyes shift from left to right, top to bottom. You look for a shadow; some slight movement from around a corner or behind something. The floorboards ominously creek under your boots, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “There’s no one here,” you whisper. 

While Gojo stays behind, Geto walks ahead of you towards the circle of furniture, his gun hanging from his hand. He places a hand on one of the leather armchairs and shakes his head. “No,” he protests. “There is. Feel the chair.” You carefully walk over and place a hand on the seat, your hear thumping wildly. “It’s warm,” you gasp. “Someone is–” 

“Y/N, look out!” Geto shouts from behind you, but it’s too late. Your words are cut off when you suddenly feel something snatching you by the ankle, causing you to fall onto your back. The noose tightens and begins to pull you throughout the house on your back despite your screams. You try to grab the knife in your pocket, but you can’t. You’re moving too fast. 

Finally, you stop and face two men with very bad intentions in their eyes. One of them is nothing short of a pretty boy: beautiful bone structure in his face with high cheekbones, dimples, blue eyes, and a Colgate smile. If it isn’t for the gun in your face, you’d think he was a model. This is ‘Angelface’.

“Well, well, look what we’ve got here, Zankoku: the prettiest little trespassor we’ve gotten.” He smirks at his partner. “What do you reckon we should do with her?” 

His partner, Zankoku, looks like he’s all types of crazy: unruly curls that fall in his face; a bumpy nose like he was punched too many times in his lifetime; a scar running from his left ear down to the corner of his mouth; wide, wild eyes that frighten you more than the gun pressing against your noggin.

“I’ve got one idea that would make her sorry,” he growls, his voice like jagged glass to you. “Do you know what we do to trespassin’ bitches like you?” Angelface shakes his head at Zankoku. “Now, now, that’s no way to talk to a lady!” he mockingly tuts. 

“Y/N!” Geto shouts from beyond. You manage to twist around to look behind you and find the duo running to save you. However, they are stopped by a woman who pops up from under the staircase, pointing a gun at Geto’s head and a man jumping out from behind a wall to pull Gojo back and put a knife at his throat. 

The only woman in this crew, Makima, is tall and slender with long red hair and cold eyes. “Don’t move,” she warns. “You move and either I put this bullet in you or Arata puts that knife in your partner’s throat.” Arata is mute as you’ve been told, his tongue cut out long ago. But what he lacks in words he makes up for with his knives that are as long as his hair that cascades down to his hips. 

“Or we fuck up this cutie’s face,” Angelface growls, pushing the gun into your cheek. “Never thought I’d meet the famous Fatale Femme in the flesh.” He uses the barrel to pull your bandana down, revealing your nose and mouth to him. “And see her gorgeous face,” he cackles. “You’re almost prettier than me.” You could spit at him. 

“You motherfuckers got a lot of nerve comin’ here,” Zankoku snarls. “First you leave like y’all are better than us and then you start workin’ for the fuck ass law?” 

Gojo smiles despite nearly grazing the knife at his neck. “Good to see you again too, Zankoku,” he titters. “I guess this is our welcome wagon?” Makima rolls her eyes, annoyed. “God, you always talked too much,” she huffs. “I should put some lead in that throat right now just to shut you up.” 

She cocks her gun, moving it away to point at Gojo while she slips another out of her holster and points it at Geto. The entire room has turned into a warzone. One wrong step and you’re dead. “Listen,” Geto says, raising his voice. “We don’t want no trouble.” 

“Oh, shut up!” Makima spits. “Why else would y’all be here? You’re obviously here to wrangle us up like cattle and bring us into the sheriff.” 

“Y’all tryna get in a good place with the law?” Angelface scoffs, grinning at the gunslingers. “Tryin’ to become good guys ‘cause prison scared y’all? So sad to see what happened with that train.” You can almost feel the rage radiating off of Geto and Gojo in waves. “We don’t want to put y’all in prison,” Geto says, his voice roiling with simmering anger. “We just want information on Benji. We need to find him.” 

The bandit crew share a brief look. “Why would we tell you?” Angelface scoffs, eyes narrowed. “We don’t know where he is anyway. We were in Cherrywood before he fucked outta town months ago. We haven’t seen him since.” As soon as he says it, his partners look at him like he just sealed their fate. And he did. 

“You dumbass!” Makima hisses. The gears in your head are turning and you share a look with Geto and Gojo. “Benji was in Cherrywood?” you ask, finally speaking. “When? Why?”

But the cold barrels of the guns pressing into your head and chin stop you. “Enough,” Makima growls. “We don’t have to tell you fuck shit. Now hold still so we don’t fuck up our home.” 

She points her guns at Geto while Arata pushes the knife further into Gojo’s throat. You stare at the guns in your face, shaking. “Sorry we couldn’t have any fun, darlin,” Angelface sighs. “You’ll make the most beautiful corpse though.” Staring into the barrels is like staring into death and suddenly, you see a flash of your mother’s face. 

You don’t think. You just do. Quickly, you wedge your hand under your ass and pull a knife out. In a flash, you stick the knife into Angelface’s side, making him scream in pain. Immediately, Makima shoots but Geto ducks and swings his leg to trip her. Gojo elbows Arata in the face and rolls away just as Arata cups his nose to stop the blood flow. Makima, who fell, quickly rises and pulls the trigger on both guns. 

Bullets immediately start flying from Zankoku and Makima aimed for Geto and Gojo who you’re sure are hiding. You have no time to see where though, too focused on your attacker. Angelface staggers back and drops the gun, holding his wounded side. “You fuckin’ bitch!” he bellows. “You’ll pay for that! Kill her, Zankoku!” 

Zankoku is momentarily distracted, too busy popping shells. You take that loophole to cut yourself free with the bloody knife and kick him in the back. He staggers, but not enough. He turns around, baring his dirty teeth at you. “You,” he growls and raises his gun. He suddenly falls onto his knees, revealing Gojo standing behind him with a gun that whacked him in the back of the head. 

A bullet zooms over his head and Gojo quickly covers you. “Over here!” he yells as he drags you into the kitchen as quickly as possible.

Geto quickly crawls in behind you and rips the table up to turn it over to serve as a shield from the bullets. Gojo pulls you behind the overturned table. You sit there, the three of you, as bullets whiz past you, breaking windows and putting holes in the walls. “She’s still shooting!” you announce among the flying bullets. “This bitch is crazy!” 

Geto busies himself firing back at Makima from behind the table while Gojo points at the back door. “You go out there,” he tells you. “We’ll take care of her in here.”

He slides his gun out of his holster and cocks it. “Just wait for us with the horses,” he whispers. “We’ll find you.” So you go, hurrying over to the backdoor as fast as you can on your hands and knees. 

You turn for a second to see Arata stabbing through the table right above Gojo’s head. You itch to help him and Geto both, but you know they’d tell you to get out and save yourself. So you keep going. When you finally make it, you shove the door open with your shoulder and roll out into the open, landing on your back in some grass. Quickly, you look up, squinting in the sun. 

The backyard is nothing but an empty pig pen and a stretch of forest. Down below the slope of the hill the house is on is the creek and beyond that, your horses. On wobbly legs, you get up and try to run, but two arms wrapping around you stop you. One tightens around your midsection while the other wraps around your neck, nearly choking you.

“Hel–!” Your scream is cut off by a choke as you struggle to breathe with the arms squeezing you tight than a vice. 

“Gotcha,” Zankoku chuckles. “Stupid bitch, thinkin’ you could run from me…but I’m not goin’ to prison. So I’ll let nature take ya.” He begins to walk with you as you struggle helplessly in his arms, not even able to reach your weapons. 

When you realize where he’s taking you, it’s too late: you’re suddenly being dangled over the side of the rushing water of the creek. Without a warning, Zankoku drops you in. 

Your body plunges into the icy depths of the water, shocking you to the core. You immediately swim to the surface and gulp down the air. The waves are rough and wild, splashing you repeatedly in the face as you struggle to reach for a rock, a tree branch, anything to stop you from going downstream.

Zankoku stands at the bank and pats his knee once. A horse comes running from out of the forest, stopping at his feet and allowing him to climb on. “Have fun with the fishes, bitch!” he cackles before galloping off on his horse upstream. 

“Wait!” you scream, so loud that your throat goes raw. You watch helplessly as Zankoku disappears, growing smaller the farther the water takes you. You try to pedal to stay afloat, but the current is too rough and the water too deep. You can’t feel the bottom. “Gojo!” you wail out. “Geto, help!” 

All that answers you is the water flooding your ears and mouth, salty and overbearing. All of your senses are taken over by it as the current swallows you up. Tears of desperation begin to slip down your cheeks, sobs leaving your mouth. You once again feel alone. Abandoned. Just like all those years ago. And you’re tired. So, so tired. 

Finally giving in to the creek and the ache in your muscles, you let the current take you and find yourself going beneath the ice-cold, salty depths of water. But you don’t sink. Just as quickly as you went under, you’re suddenly pulled back up by some invisible force yanking on your arm. You look up into the sun’s rays, wondering if it’s God. 

But when you turn to look, you realize that it’s Geto. He is hanging off the side of the bank, boots and pants muddy, grunting as he struggles to pull you out. He finally slips in and yanks you to his body, both of you floating in the water together. “Keep your eyes open, Y/N!” he yells among the rush. “Geto,” you try to say, but your voice is so weak that it gets carried away by the water. 

Geto swims to the side of the creek with one arm and quickly grabs an upturned tree root to pull you both up and out of the water. “I’ve gotcha,” he huffs, dragging you into the mud once he’s on the surface. He then pulls you into the grass and finally releases you. 

When he does, the shakes start. And the shivers. Your body convulses as if it’s back in the water and not in the warm sun on dry land. You can’t stop. It’s as if your body has kicked itself into fight or flight. Your fingers tremble and your heart pounds, causing your breath to become labored. “Y/N?” Geto questions. You don’t see him. All you see is the blue sky above you. 

“C-C-C…” You don’t know what you’re trying to say. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. Geto’s handsome face appears above you and his expression softens when he realizes what’s happening. “Y/N, you’re havin’ a panic attack,” he says. He slowly picks you up and places his hands on your forearms. 

“Breathe,” he demands, his voice and eyes firm. “I need you to breathe, Y/N, okay?” You shake your head, still trembling like a leaf. “I-I can’t,” you gasp. “C-Can’t…” It’s a struggle to form a coherent sentence. Your brain can’t keep up, sending warning signals to your body when there isn’t even any danger anymore. 

“Look at me, darlin’,” Geto coos. His big, calloused hands hold your cheeks, willing you to look at him. “Watch me, okay?”

You do, hypnotized by his warm, soulful eyes. “Do what I do, slowly,” he instructs. “In.” His chest expands.

“And out.” His chest falls. He does it again and you mirror to the best of your ability. It’s shaky and choppy at first, but soon, your breathing is less labored. 

Then your heartbeat slows and your body relaxes in his touch. All the while, he is gentle and patient. “That’s it,” he says, nodding. “It’s alright now. I’ve got you now.” And you believe it. You believe that you are safe. How the fuck did he do that? 

A whistle pierces the air from down below the hill. You look to see Gojo jogging uphill with the horses. His smile fades when he sees you and Geto, soaking wet and coated in mud. “What happened?” he demands. Quickly, you stand without Geto’s help and wipe at your snotty nose. “It’s not important,” you sniffle. “Did you get her?” 

Though Gojo still looks concerned, he doesn’t push it. “We got them,” he corrects you. “Angelface is knocked out cold ‘cause of blood loss thanks to your knife, but the other three are conscience so we should be able to talk ‘em.” You sigh, relived. 

You hop on your horses and ride back up to the house where, sure enough, the four bandits are bound tight in a rope tied to the pig pen, back to back. Angelface is slumped over, his side stained in blood. Meanwhile, his partners look downright scared, no longer having their weapons to help them. 

You and the duo stomp over to them, relishing the way they shiver at the sight of you. “Please don’t kill us,” Makima whimpers. Geto kneels before her, his expression like steel. “Then tell us what we want to know: Benji the Bandit. Where is he?” 

Gojo kneels beside his partner and pulls down his blindfold to reveal his piercing, blue eyes. It’s enough to make the bandits cowar. No weapons or force needed. It makes you wonder just what the duo did to them while you were in that creek. “The last time we saw him was in Cherrywood,” Zankoku admits. “He was conspirin’ with the outlaw Valentine to rob a train.” 

“Valentine?” you gasp. “He works for Benji?” You look at Geto and Gojo as realization hits you. Could it be that Benji was behind that train masscre? Could it be that he framed his two former employees? “After the train massacre, Benji cut us some money and said he was headin’ to Sage County to hide out,” Makima adds. “That’s all we know, we swear!” 

Gojo smiles, happy with this turnout. “Thank you for your participation,” he sweetly says as he stands up. He reties his blindfold before letting out a whistle that echos across the land. 

You hear the sound of horse hooves and thudding footsteps, each sound mingling into one loud heartbeat. You turn, findinding law enforcement and other townsmen following close behind running out of the brush of trees and nature towards you. Among them is Kusakabe sporting a golden star on his shirt as the sheriff of Bull’s Creek (who also so happens to be a bartender). 

“They’re all yours, fellas!” Gojo yells, moving away so Kusakabe and his posse can swarm the bandits like flies. Other townspeople follow shortly after and with them, they bring rewards for you and the gunslinging duo: money; food and spices for cooking; whiskey and ale; and more importantly, thanks. 

Despite your reputation and appearance, the people stare you in your face and pour their hearts out to you. They shower you with gratitude, give you warm smiles, and shake your hand. It is overwhelming, but at the same time, it makes you feel good. It gives you a better feeling than how you feel after smoking a gunslinger and taking off down the road: cold and vengeful. Now, to see the very people you’ve helped with your own eyes, it makes you rethink your career path. 

Nearly an hour later after collecting your rewards and goods to place in a sack for the road, Gojo comes up to you with a big, fluffy towel while Geto chats with some of the victims. “Gotcha somethin’,” he says, wrapping you up in the fluffy thing. 

You don’t look into his eyes, still feeling weird from earlier. Once you’re wrapped up tight, he gives you space and chomps down on a sugar cookie given to him by a sweet old lady earlier as her thanks. “So where to now?” you ask, glancing at him. He just smirks at you. 

Sage County it is, then. 

**********

The night is still and so is the steely, cold, unforgiving prison cell Valentine sleeps in that night. 

He’s been in the Black Water County prison for days now, eating their terrible food and facing terrible mistreatment at the hands of the guards. He is housed in a private cell, isolated from other prisoners. Being a wanted criminal outlaw means that you have many enemies, so the sheriff thought it was best to keep Valentine isolated to avoid Valenine being attacked….not because he cares, but because he wants Valentine alive for his trial. 

Valentine hasn’t tried to escape, waiting for the right time to do so. He has decided to lay low for now and play nice, keeping to himself and doing what the guards tell him to do. Meanwhile, in his head, he fantasizes about the moment he can put some bullets in those damn gunslingers and wrap his hands around your lying, backstabbing throat. 

Right now, as he lies asleep on his pad, he can almost see your face turning purple as he wrings your neck. He can almost feel the way your hands claw pathetically at his, your body slowly going limp like a rag doll as he– 

Clang. 

Valentine immediately opens his eyes and sits up in his cell, looking towards the strange sound of metal banging against something solid. He squints into the dark hallway outside of his barred cell door. “H-Hello?” he stutteringly whispers in the darkness. “Is someone there?” 

There isn’t an answer for a while, making him feel as if he imagined it. But then he hears footsteps and the young guard usually posted at his cell appears, staggering slightly as he does so. In his hand, he carries a tray of sloppy Joe and beer, possibly for himself, but Valentine makes a joke anyway.

“What’s that?” he scoffs. “You finally bringin’ me some decent dinner, boy? Do you even know what time of night it is?!” The young guard doesn’t answer. Instead, he teeters forward and falls onto his face like a tree that was just axed, falling at Valentine’s feet. 

“Shit!” Valentine gasps, jumping and backing up against the cold cell wall. The food and beer spill along the floor, just like the blood pooling from the back wound the guard is sporting. That’s when he sees it: the knife in the guard’s back. 

More footsteps follow and Valentine shakily looks up at the shadow figure entering the hallway, dressed in black clothes with a bandana covering his mouth. As he gets closer, Valentine cowares against the wall, shivering. “W-What did you–” 

“Shh!” the stranger shushes him. He bends down near the guard’s body and takes off his black glove. There, Valentine recognizes the black rose tattoo on his knuckles. The flower of death. Benji the Bandit’s signature symbol. “The boss sent me here to get you outta here,” he whispers. He begins to dig into the guard’s back pocket and retrieves a ring of keys which he uses to unlock Valentine’s cell. 

The door opens with a click and the stranger slides it open, narrowing his eyes at the outlaw. “If you don’t wanna spend the rest of your sorry-ass life in here, follow me and keep quiet.” It doesn’t take Valentine long to make up his mind. He would take anything over wearing an ugly black and white jumpsuit and eating God-awful slop. 

Quietly, he follows close behind the stranger down the hallway and around a corner between two other wards of cells. Commotion begins to arise from each ward, prisoners awakening and realizing that someone is escaping. The stranger bends down to move a tile from the floor out of its place, revealing a deep hole that must have taken days to dig. “Down here!” he hisses before ducking down into the manmade hole. 

The prisoners begin to knock against their cell doors and walls, yelling and hollering. Quickly, Valentine gets down onto his stomach and slides himself down into the tight, dark hole. He has never escaped in this manner before and he can’t see why any criminal does it.

It’s dank, dark, and dirt keeps getting in his mouth and nose. Not to mention how physically taxing it is. He grunts and struggles to get through certain spaces that are too tight, shimmying along in his elbows and stomach. 

But finally, he sees an opening and the stranger pull himself up out of the hole. Valentine follows close after, pushing himself through the opening by his hands. With a gasp, he rises from the hole, breathing in the open air and the night sky above. He’s never been so happy to be above ground before. 

But he isn’t at all happy to see who is waiting for him. Other than the stranger, Valentine’s eyes trail up the strong legs of a black Bronco before settling on the man sitting on its back.

He is a big man––at least six feet––and the size of a bear with long hair, a salt-n-pepper beard, an eyepatch, and a gold tooth that glints at him in the moonlight. He wears black everything: a black hat; black slacks; black boots; a black jacket adorned with fringe. He is the most terrifying man to exist in the Wild West. “Benji,” he gasps. 

Benji’s smile grows, laugh lines and wrinkles appearing by his eyes. “Nice to see you too, Valentine,” he says in his deep, gruff voice that could make any man tremble. “How was prison for you?”

He doesn’t answer. He rises from his knees and dusts himself off, looking towards the prison. They are right outside of its wired fence, deep in the woods that surround it. “Ya know, crawlin’ through dirt as an escape route ain’t really my style,” he grumbles. 

Benji keeps smiling, menacingly so. “You’re lucky I even sent someone to get your ass bein’ that you fucked up and got yourself caught.” He nods at his goon who has settled onto his own horse. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” Valentine protests. “That damn idiot duo came after me and threatened to toss me in prison!” He seethes, thinking about you. “And now the bitch that they’re with is against me. She turned out to be the Fatale Femme.”

He has no problem throwing you under the bus. You ruined his entire operation! He was so sure Geto and Gojo would take his offer and let him go free. He was going to leave the county, maybe go overseas, and make his life from there. 

It’s bad enough to let Benji once again rope him into another one of his schemes. He just knew that robbing that Cherrywood train would bring him bad luck, but he listened to his boss anyway. “All ya need to do is grab the money with my men and kill the witnesses. You’ll get your cut and I’ll get mine.” 

Down on his luck and in need of some quick cash, Valentine agreed, but also had questions: “What about Geto and Gojo? Why are they apart of this? You haven’t worked with them in years.” 

Benji just smiled, puffing on his cigar. “Because they need to be reminded that they can’t run from me,” he answered, sending chills down Valentine’s spine. “They’ll never know that I was behind this, but that won’t matter. They think they can suddenly become these saviors, but when the law find them on that train with a bunch of dead bodies, they’ll finally understand that they can’t run from their sins.” 

It was punishment for leaving Benji. He wanted the Gunslingers to suffer. Valentine just wanted the money, so he went with it and ran. Now, he not only wants revenge on the duo but on you too. 

Benji’s brows rise at the mention of you. “The Fatale Femme teamin’ up with my old gunslingers, eh?” He ponders this, stroking his beard. “Then that means they’re a threat to me, but not for long. That means we’ll have to take them all out of the equation.” 

He looks down at Valentine like he’s no more than a bug, those dark eyes like a shark’s. “Listen to me very carefully,” he whispers and Valentine roughly swallows his spit. “I only got ya out of here because I’ve got another job for ya.” 

Valentine nods, hanging onto every word: I got word that those two gunslingin’ maggots are headin’ out of the West toward North,” Benji explains. “They’ll be passin’ through Sage County. I need you to follow ‘em with my crew and meet me in Sage County. Attack ‘em on the road if you need to.” 

Valentine nods, placing all of these instructions in the back of his mind. “But why are you goin’ to Sage County?” he asks. 

Benji pulls a cigarette out of his pocket and holds it between his teeth. “I got a call from four of my old workers earlier after they got arrested in Bull’s Creek. I know Geto and Gojo, so I know that they ask around and obviously know where I’m headed.” He pulls out a match box and lights a match in one strike. 

He then lights his cig and takes a puff, holding it between his ringed, inked fingers. “If they show up, I wanna kill them myself–especially that nosey bitch they’ve got with ‘em,” he spits. “I can’t have no one lookin’ for me.” 

The severity and seriousness of his words are set by the silence that looms over them along with the ice in Benji’s eyes. Finally, he glares at Valentine. “What are ya waitin’ on, idiot?” he huffs. “Get goin’ and don’t disappoint me.” 

He snaps the reins on his horse and takes off into the woods, leaving his goon and Valentine alone.

[tomatoswup]

good night ☾ 2

summary: having the Vash plushie as a companion is a big help but sometimes you can't help but think about the past. Vash plushie to the rescue!

the plushie series: 1 , 2 , 3

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, fluff? vash plushie is such a sweetheart :'),

A/N: i can't help but bring my angst urges into things okay im sORRY LMAOOKDNSLKNF but fr i 100% believe the plushie is gonna try to cheer you up when you're sad like ugh u lil cute thing plz. Hope yall enjoy this lil thing! am waiting for june to come

To be honest, the cute little guy really helped you a lot mentally, stopping those depressing filled nights and nightmares that you’ve had after that event from engulfing your conscious.

Has it been 2 years already? Time flies doesn't it? You never really noticed how aware the plushie was until he asked you if you were alright one night.

Sometimes he’d cuddle against your cheek to, in his words, "help" you sleep, and other times he’d sleep under your blanket, but the poor thing had nightmares of its own too.

Often times you’d catch him whimper and curl into a small ball in his sleep, to which you couldnt help but put your hand out and softly rub the top of his head with your finger to soothe the poor plushie.

But the lil’ thing was a trooper! He’s up the next morning urging you to get some donuts for breakfast and man.

You've never seen the plushie so happy that he almost popped a stitch! He ran around in circles, jumping up and down around your feet so much when you came back to your camp with a box of them that you kinda got scared you were gonna step on him.

"The pink one!" He screeched out, elated as you picked out a pink sprinkled donut and handed it to him. The damn donut was the same size as himself!

"Hey! Be careful!" You shouted out, watching as the small figure tumbled down a small sand hill with the donut, causing you to sweatdrop.

Why'd he kinda look like a tumbleweed....

You heard him squeak out from below, before seeing him cutely hop up to your temporary camp, a big bite already visible on the donut as the nibs of his arms held it up above his head "I-Im okay!"

“Good! I don’t think I have any sewing supplies to fix you bud.” You grinned as he waddled over to where you sat at the fire.

"What'cha making?" He curiously asked as he peeked around your ankle. Poking at the cooking fire, you looked down at him, the blue beady eyes of his staring into the fire "Well, I'm cooking some chicken I had left-over from the other day." You smiled down at him as he jumped up and down "FOOD!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the excitement the plushie gave out, how did he even digest things? You haven't really seen him eat anything during his time traveling with you but maybe that was a question for another time.

"Ya know," You couldn't help but say "I think my friend would've liked you.." You softly smiled, turning to the fire as you turned the roasting chicken.

"Friend?" He tilted his head "What friend?" You stared on into the fire, the wind blowing the heat mildly into your face "You haven't met him, but it was a friend I deeply loved."

"You loved him?"

"..." You couldn't help but put your knee up to rest your head on "Yeah, I did. But they passed a few years ago." You heard the plushie take another bite of his donut before coming up and plopping down to sit beside you "Never got to tell him I did though.." You quietly chuckled as the plushie looked up at you, a dead stare had been painted on your face as if it were a past that hurt to touch.

The Vash plushie stayed quiet before taking another bite of his donut "Well, I think you're a very pleasant person to be with! I mean, you've taken care of me pretty well!" He squeaked out "You treat others with the respect they give back! You're a kind person!" His feet started moving up and down.

"I think he would've loved you too."

AWWWWWWWALSFfknsk

You couldn't help but let out tears at the comforting words the plushie provided you as he patted your leg, telling you it was okay and that you weren't a bad person for having continued with your life without him. To which he proceeded to trying to do cartwheels to cheer you up you didn't want to admit it kind worked. But at some point you asked him to stop because the poor thing had been on its 5th failed attempt, every time belly-flopping onto the ground.

"Okay okay, I'm okay now Vash!" Trying to get the lil' guy to stop, you took a whiff of the air before freezing "I-Is the chicken burning?"

"Yup!"

GODDAMN IT-

You owed this plushie another donut.

And the night passed, you having slept better than most other nights. But the two of you had to hit the road again, getting packed up and ready to go by the morning.

Back in his usual place in the pocket of your shirt, he put up an arm nib and pointed it forwards "LET'S GOOO!" Snorting at his burst of energy, you began your stride in the sand once again with the map in hand.

"We're not far from getting to the city, I'm estimating one more day before we arrive." You said, fixing the hat on your head from the glaring sun before squinting ahead at something that caught your eye "You see that too right?"

The plushie's eyebrows furrowed as he copied you, squinting and physically pushing himself forwards to see if he could see closer "A man?"

The sight of a man in black stuck out like a sore thumb in the tanned desert just a few feet away from the two of you. A grey motorcycle propped up next to him as the man tuned and did something to the metal's gears.

He looked a bit familiar, too familiar.

"I think I know hi-" You wondered out before the plushies' loud and high pitched scream interrupted you.

"HELLOOOOOO!!!!"

The man turned and there you were met with a pair of sunglasses and the mischievous grin of someone whos' gospels often had you wanting to beat him half to death.

"Well well! Fancy meeting you here!"

oh god....

[woogiez]

Who is your fav drrr rarepair?

YOOOOOOOO thank you for asking! long list ahead

first of all I suppose nowadays everything is rare except for certain fan favourite one (absolutely no shade here just facts), and if it's not, I have no idea really since I didn't browse deep enough. Like, for example, if something like Tom/Shizuo had some short doujinshis back in a day or Shizuo/Vorona had more fans around but also were bashed big time, now it's just tumbleweed for both. So anyways:

Basically everything with Egor because he's my cutie patootie, but main ones would be:

Shizuo/Egor I find it sad that only Egor's nose interacted with a bench Shizuo hit him with and that's it, they have plenty of potential cool chemistry imo. Egor being posessed by Saika, which is obsessed with Shizuo, while his human part is salty bc of him got beaten this easily, this makes me think way too much thoughts. Or Egor being sent in Japan to look out for Vorona not to do anything stupid (among other mission) while Shizuo acting protective, and it'd just look good

Egor/Vorona [since we have no idea how old is Egor really I shuffle his age for my convenience in different pairings btw] If Shizuo and Vorona are all about leaving dire past behind and being a fluff/comfort so sweet that teeth might hurt from it, Egor/Vorona is the complete opposite, it's about being the worst possible selves, descending into darkness and cruelty, and I'm here for it badly. ORRR it can also be about leaving past behind and stuff, but this time with plenty of baggage being carried. Actually as same here as with Shizuo, I just wanna see two blonde bitches bang dirty

Egor/Akabayashi MY BELOWEDDDD ONESSS I have sooo many thoughts going on but let's just say it's two criminals with different mentalities and plenty of cultural differences who were BOTH approached by Saika, but one got possessed and the other kicked her the fuck out of his body. It can be such a cool dynamics, so many things going on, I love em

Slon/Izaya Basically I was just thinking about Izaya need to get manhandled while controlling whole situation (I was a big sucker for Shiki/Izaya too for same reason), and Slon kinda came up in my head and my skin got cleaned lmao. Not much to add here for now except for kinks list

Celty/Vorona If putting aside my whole headcanon roll about them having plot together with some biker gang and stuff, I can only say that I headcanon them bonding over bikes (once Celty realises she means no harm), Vorona admiring her power A LOT, and, like Shizuo, Celty falls for admiration easily. Also she lkes the way Vorona talks, her way of speaking were sort of similar back in the old days.

Simon/Denis married old men yaoi end of story, they're softest and purest meowmeows and give me feels

Tom/Shizuo/Vorona And, as I said before, I kinda count debt collectors trio as a rare one, all of combos and all all of them three together too. I suppose I can yap waaaay to much about each version, so let's just say that I crave for them making each other's lives happier <3

[imnotsimpingyouare]

ENAMORED

Modern Hatengu clones X Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny Youtube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will NOT be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

Basically fem!Y/N gets employed as a maid for this house of actual lunatics and one normal but depressed guy. I have no clue what I'm doing, no clue when this will end, NO CLUE IF THERE WILL BE NSFW? Idk. Goodbye.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

On this fine morning, the sun is rising, the birds are chirping, and all throughout the neighborhood, the peaceful blanket of sleep covers every resident.

Except for Aizetsu.

Yes, this lovely boy relishes in the cold, calm mornings... he can stroll about freely with his cup of coffee, take a warm shower, and get himself ready for the day. He can enjoy the peace and quiet (he's gained immunity to Urogi's snoring) that he only gets once in a blue moon. For around thirty minutes each morning, this is Aizetsu's life...

...until the clock strikes 7:00.

How sad is it that in one moment, this boy's contentedness can be ruined?

Here are the stats for 7:00 each morning:

4 alarms go off.

2 groans are heard.

1 fit of maniacal laughter is heard.

1 alarm clock violently hits the wall.

1 old man tosses in his covers and puts his earplugs in.

1 Aizetsu's happiness is ruined.

And just like that, the morning had begun.

Zohakuten darts out of his room like a madman, running to the pantry.

"WHERE. IS. THE CEREAL." He snarls like some kind of vicious beast, pointing a scrawny finger at Aizetsu.

"...I–"

"I BET YOU ATE IT ALL, DIDN'T YOU?" The boy once again accused.

"...I–"

Angry stomping was coming from the other direction. Turning his head, Aizetsu came face to face with his brother, whose hair resembled a tumbleweed, stomping barefooted towards them. "Shut the fuck up and GET READY FOR SCHOOL! YOU'RE GONNA LEARN SOME SHIT TODAY!"

Zohakuten ran off to his room, but not before grabbing the cereal bars out of the pantry. Yes, the whole box. A trail of crumbs were left behind him as he barreled towards his room. Did he take off the wrapper? No one knows. Did he even take the cereal bars out of the box? Don't ask me.

Sekido huffed, slipping his house shoes on and plopping down on the sofa. "Little tyke takes too damn long in the morning. What's he making himself presentable for, huh?"

"...I–"

Dark-toned hands dug into the arms of the sofa. "I swear, if that kid comes home one day with a little girlfriend, I'm gonna rip someone's head off."

Aizetsu only sighed in response. What's the point of trying to get a word in?

Suddenly laughing was heard in Urogi's room. Not a moment later there he was, already dressed for his day of "production" holding his camera in the air. Urogi slinked in Aizetsu's direction, giving the camera all the worst possible angles of his poor brother. "Say hi to the vlog, 'Zetsu!"

"Zetsu" could only sip his coffee, hoping that if he ignores his brother, he'll despawn or something. That was not the case.

"Hey 'Zetsu? Did you know that if your hand is bigger than your face, your IQ is lower than room temperature?"

Now... when Aizetsu wakes up in the morning, he's not... as clever as he usually is.

Actually, maybe he is after his coffee, but I don't think he has the energy yet to stop what's about to happen.

"No Urogi, I didn't know that." He deadpans, raising his hand up to his face... all the while Urogi's smile is transforming from cute and bubbly to that of Satan himself.

As soon as his hand is lined up with his nose..

WHAP

CRASH

Aizetsu's coffee is on the floor, as is the mug which once contained it. His nose hurts, he feels like an idiot, he wants to die. Urogi cackles and runs away like a 3 year old.

Somewhere on the other side of the house, Karaku is doing his "skincare routine" with 30 different products and his hair twisted up in hair curlers.

This is life in the Hantengu Household.

○○○○○

On the other side of town, you're already wide awake, as your job starts at the crack of dawn.

What do you do? You clean!

You work for Murata's Service Emporium, a company that hires people to do all kinds of things for clients, from mowing lawns to sweeping chimneys. Why is this important?

It's not. You hate your job.

Clean clean clean clean clean. You hate cleaning. It's a chore to clean your own tiny apartment because it's like you have PTSD from cleaning. The callouses on your hands are to show for that.

Day to night, that's all you do, and you don't even get to see the client's reaction to your amazing work.

You. Hate. Your. Job.

But you're still one of the best maids the company has hired. Why? You're a perfectionist. You're not going to leave spots of dirt and dust. You work hard to earn your tips.

Well, the ones you do get. No one tips maids anyway.

Soon to start another day at work, you put on your clothes and grab your keys. 2 cups of coffee is enough for you to feel okay this morning, but you could have used another one.

Maybe if you'd had another one, you wouldn't have tripped and fallen down the stairs. Maybe a few more after that, and you wouldn't have picked yourself up only to fall down the second flight of stairs.

God, how bad can this day get?

At least, that's what you were thinking, when a hand was extended to you. Looking up, there was a man with short black hair and rather prominent eyelashes standing infront of you. You took his hand. He pulled you up to his height.

"I saw you take both those sets of stairs. Are you... okay?" He spoke, not yet letting go of your hand, but it didn't bother you that much.

"Ummmmmm... I only had 2 cups of coffee this morning. 3 is the bare minimum for me."

Getting a closer look at him, you could see he had some tattoos around his forearms. In fact, they reminded you of criminal tattoos. Are you holding the hand of a criminal?

No, no way! This guy couldn't be some kind of evil, bloodthirsty, evil, donut-making..

He cleared his throat, interrupting your thoughts. "Well, I hope you have a good day, Ma'am. I'm leaving for work now, so I'll see you later?" He says, smiling at you and releasing your hand.

"..yeah. That sounds good."

He laughs before walking away, presumably to his car.

Are you stupid? What are you doing? You're gonna be late!

You rush to your car, hoping you're fast enough. It'll be your third offense, and you can't get fired from this job. How else will you pay the bills? How will you buy groceries? Clothes? You slam the gas and go over the limit until you see your arch nemesis ahead, blocking your path like a giant wall.

A red light.

God dammit.

○○○○○

"Y/N!" A deep voice yells from across the hall. You look over, just a few steps into the building, and see your boss, fuming.

He stops over to you, crossing his arms. "Why are you late again? The first client you're assigned to has a big task! What are you doing dilly-dallying?"

"I–"

He puts a hand up to hush you.

"Y/N.. this is not your first time doing this! How can you expect anyone to view you as reliable when this is how you do your job. Ugh." He scowls. "Listen, we don't have anyone to cover you. Just.. do the job, and go home. Got it?"

Your heart stopped. "...go home?"

His eyes burned into yours, threatening to swallow you hole. "As in no more Y/N. As in turn in your uniform. How else do you want me to say it?"

You were stunned. He only scoffed, prancing away from you like some kind of doe.

Oh God.

You just got fired.

What are you supposed to do?

Who's gonna take you?

How are you gonna find work in a town like this?

The thoughts zooming through your head stop only when you view the client's last name on your written schedule, posted on the wall infront of you.

Hantengu.

[frikatilhi]

Saw your tag "feels like bojere bitches are in the minority" and I wonder if BoJere era is ... over?

I've been having some sort of feelings since reading the transcript of the Urheilucast podcast yesterday. Jere said that last year was hard because he had to be Käärijä all the time and no one was interested in Jere /or something like that.

I always felt like Bojan was his safe place where he could be Jere. Be himself. But he didn't even acknowledge that or mention Bojan. I'm happy for Jere to have new boyfriends and to get spanked to his heart's content but...

I feel like a traitor for saying this: is this the BoJere divorce?

What can we BoJere girlies (gn) hope for on 3rd March now?

Oh dear, this feels a bit above my pay grade maybe but I guess I have brought this on myself?

First of all, that was not my tag but someone's reblog, but sure, bojere girlies are probably the minority nowadays, but also, isn't that pretty natural? And also probably not a big deal? And does it matter? The whole point of the support group is that there are few of us left, our crops are dying, we are in a desert watching some sad tumbleweeds rolling around and clinging to each other, endlessly rehashing past events... *cue single tear*

I didn't think anything of Jere not mentioning Bojan in the podcast? That was really not the topic? Both of them have said multiple times that Bojan really helped Jere out in Liverpool. Also Jere probably has many people he can be just Jere around, and he didn't mention any of them either, not his family or closest friends, so I'm not sure why he would have gone out of his way to mention Bojan here.

It is very natural that we are not getting much content nowadays, nor do I think we are entitled to it. They have stated that they keep in touch and are important to each other. It doesn't mean that they are going to showcase their every interaction for our entertainment? It doesn't mean "divorce", it means... nothing at all? Because we can't really make any assumptions about them? They might even have talked about not making a big deal out of themselves publicly anymore, who knows?

As for March, it might very well be that we don't get any content then. But that was what I said before Nordic Tour as well, so we'll see, maybe it'll be another insane three days that sustains us for months to come? Point is, it's up to them and not seeing anything publicly doesn't really mean that they are not friends.

I don't know if I make any sense, and I don't mean to dunk on you, but I don't think it's that deep? We're all just trying to have a little fun and maybe make some friends in the process.

[i-am-totally-not-a-lizard]

*looks at you like a kid in bed awaiting a bedtime story* what was reddit like…?

Ahh my old home... It was beautiful... Well actually not really it kinda sucked but it was home. After a long day of hard work I would kick back and relax by immediately getting into arguments with conservatives about whether or not I deserve to exist, spending all night moderating every new post made to r/familyguyporn (erm... You broke rule #274, how dare you, permabanned for life), and visiting 30 different subreddits only to see the same unfunny joke recycled and reposted for the thousandth time!

Haha but seriously though it wasn't all bad I actually really enjoyed my time there. If Reddit ever becomes not stupid again there's really great communities on there and it provides a much more structured and useful method of interacting with interests you like. There are some great communities that I honestly can't find comparable groups to on Tumblr that I wish I didn't have to continue using Reddit or a discord server to keep in touch with.

If you guys ever want to see what's up with Reddit I'd highly recommend r/196 (currently not allowing posts but maybe someday, also it's just fun to look through the old posts) and its little sister subreddits r/691 and r/19684 because they have a similar Tumblr (queer, lefty, shitposty) vibe, it's where most of the Reddit refugees on here came from initially. Also r/Tumblr and r/curatedTumblr (both private right now), because it's just reposts of Tumblr screenshots so the people there would probably be more accepting of you little tumbleweeds. r/wunkus (silly cats and stuff, I love that sub so much, criminally underrated). r/vexillologycirclejerk and r/mapporncirclejerk (private) are some of my favorite communities and I'm sad there's not a similar big community here. They're pretty left wing and focus on shitposting and jokes about flags and maps, they're very funny but some of the jokes get old quick. As well as literally any community you can think of! I swear, no matter how niche your interest is, there's probably a subreddit for it. And if there isn't, you can make it!

I'd avoid major shitposting subs, as that seems to be where the 'edgy teenage suburban white boy with unlimited internet access' archetype tends to congregate. I'd also avoid sorting by controversial in the comments when LGBT people get brought up on mainstream subs. Reddit takes itself a lot more seriously than Tumblr does and people will not be afraid to argue with you. A lot. Also you get punished with downvotes if people don't like what you say.

Anyways that was a lot. I hope Reddit stops being dumb because it's honestly hard to replace and it's such a great place to find things and people that you're interested in. Not to mention if you have a very specific question about basically anything, Reddit will literally save your life. I like Tumblr a lot, but Reddit will always be near and dear to my heart.

[vincord]

Hi Vin, i hope im not bothering you, but before the year ends I just want to tell you that i love you /p!!! You've been a big source of inspiration for me in so many ways for the past say 2 years i think! I dont even know if words can describe how much of an impact you and your art has made on me, even the ones that dont get many notes, but please know that they make me feel mostly warm & fuzzy. Mostly! Because your angst art hits me SO HARD in the feels... Especially the ones with Kazui and Haruka (Your oc!).... Seriously your art is wonderful, i keep revisiting them just to stare at the textures and the way you stylize the characters the colors the mood and- ehdvjwnwj so sorry for rambling!!!

I know this year has been hard on you so i want you to know that we'll all be here waiting, praying, and supporting you as much as we possibly can, and we believe in you!! And Happy New Years!!!! We love you ❤️

I open this message for several days every day, reading it in its entirety from beginning to end, and then I just sit in front of the screen for a long time and stare at it, not knowing what to say to it, and then I close it, only to open it and read it again the next day.

Every message like this makes me happy, and I'm genuinely happy to read it and know that people appreciate me and what I do, even if I not and just don't understand the reasons for it myself. I always want to write an extensive text to a message like this, to let people know that their words and time were not wasted and really reached me, that I received them and really appreciate what they are doing for me. But my head is always empty, there's not even a tumbleweed in it, just a black hole. But I want to tell you and the others that I come back from time to time to all these messages that people write to me in the askbox. Both the ones I answered and the ones that continue to be in the askbox for a year or two, because at that time I just wanted to leave them there to reread.

I wish I could stop being forever sad and whiny, but i guess I'm with this forever. Well, at least it gives me the opportunity to write and draw angst based on my own feelings. Not bad, huh.

I hope I'm not burdening you or anyone else. Thank you, anon, and happy new year to you too. May it be better and kinder for all of us.

[mappingthemoon]

recent things

I was tagged by @gowns five days ago while I was in a state of being mentally checked-out from everything while simultaneously scrambling to finish all the work on my desk before EOY. But now, I am on WINTER STAYCATION!!! & trying to maintain realistic expectations re: how much burnout I can self-heal within the next two weeks (the answer is none). Anyway!

Last song you listened to: “Feel” by The New Sound of Numbers, and just before that, developing a new appreciation for the whole of Garbage: Version 2.0 :D

Last movie you watched: Time Cut (Hannah MacPherson, 2024). I do watch a lot of bad movies on purpose, but this was like… ultimately a 90-minute commercial for [a certain Italian-American casual dining chain] masquerading as a time-travel story, so that was kind of annoying. I haven’t looked at N-tflix for like (*checks email*) 3 years and wasn’t aware of like, just how bad some of their ‘content’ has gotten. But they do have a few things I’ve been wanting to see, and since I’m an over-35 I don’t know how kids these days watch free movies anymore (*logs into slsk* *tumbleweeds*), so I signed up for one (1) month, ugh.

Last show watched: Last night I fell asleep to an episode of the Noel Fielding baking show. I don't really have the time or attention span to keep up with shows. We did catch up with Rick and Morty this year (having last watched szn 4 ca. 2020) but I might be kinda done with it now.

Currently reading: Sun Moon Earth: The History of Solar Eclipses from Omens of Doom to Einstein and Exoplanets / by Tyler Nordgren (2016). Just before that, I read Equus, which I had picked up at a thrift store a couple years ago after hearing that my birthdaughter (then aged 15/16) had recently seen a production of the play :v

Current obsession: Man, I don't know. This reminded me of a meme I made: Aries Waiting for Their Next Hyperfixation to Drop (the image is Spongebob Waiting) and when I looked it up I was sad-surprised to see that I'd posted it way back in January. Have I been obsession-less all year?? Hmm. I will say, though, that for the past few years, I've spent a lot of my free time excavating, organizing, and cataloging my personal archive, which feels like some weirdly necessary and appropriate thing to be doing in the early years of middle age: where did I come from, where am I going, and all that. This started as a memory exercise several years ago, when I realized I could no longer accurately remember provenance details for items from my past, such as zines, or name everyone in old high school photos, etc. I used to be the kind of person who could pick up a trinket from my shelf and tell you where and when and under what circumstances I got it and why I still keep it, but I just don't have that capacity anymore (the Lifetime Piling Up feeling), so I started making spreadsheets and documents -- books, zines, music, movies, concerts, tattoos -- and maybe it has spiralled into a bit of a self-obsession -- t-shirts i miss, cameras i once knew, ceramic bowls of beads and other tiny objects that live on my dresser -- buuut I dunno, man, I've gotten like 10 different zine ideas out of this process so far, and I feel that I'm doing some kind of psychological Work here -- actually, I feel very similarly to the type of Nesting Behavior I was doing in the last months before my birthdaughter was born 18 (!) years ago. It's like tying up your loose ends and getting everything in order before Death, in the Tarot sense of the word, meaning Transformation. I think that I have been craving a Transformation for quite some time, but I feel so directionless and I don't yet know how it will manifest. Anyway. Big Winter Solstice vibes, right?

Tagging: @pitchburgh, @hthrrloooo, @madmoths, @an-inconvenient-dandelion, @hesterparr, @rustbeltkitsch

[bee-dot-exe]

Hey @totallynotbat, happy gift exchange day, I know we haven't talked much, but thanks for letting me write for you, I don't know this is exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you like it! And thank you @technoblade-gift-exchange for putting this together, also haven't talked a whole lot, but I appreciate you, I had fun! I hope you all enjoy!

Emerald

1,933

It's kinda sad, but it's also kinda sweet, no major warnings otherwise

A thin quilt covered the earth. Sections of saffron like the edges around a bruise, and burgundy trying to compete with a glass of wine, and sepia as the chlorophyll bled out with the final remnants of summer. A patchwork blanket of color like a kaleidoscope around and beneath me.

The occasional sector of basil melting into olive grass playing a game of peek-a-boo in the areas of earth where the blanket felt shy. Stray sticks of paper that lollipops once clung to and wrappers that once surrounded a piece of chocolate taking turns with the leaves in leading a waltz as the breeze lead its orchestra.

Dia de los Muertos.

Flyers with information on the day of celebration or stories made in spirit of the holiday were taped by the corners onto the sides of buildings or tacked onto signs made of oak or cork still hung from yesterday.

Posters with each island residents' face made with white paint to look like skeletons rested on pastel backgrounds, and were hung by two pieces of wood held together by a spring on rows of thick spiderweb and string, both of their ideal intended use was for holding clothes to keep dry, connected between two trees.

I let my feet guide me through the nearly ankle deep river of color, a series of rather satisfying crunches emitting from my path, which gradually changed to slabs of pastel blocks, which lead me to an archway that looked to be made of quartz.

Lanterns with flames dyed scarlet and lemon and cerulean hung on silver chains and rested overhead.

More banners made of spiderweb, with sections of cloth or perhaps tissue paper hung in the colors of the rainbow and then some, and supported by two thin stalks of wood which were placed on either side of the archway.

I walked through. There was a decoration every time I shifted my eyes or turned my head.

Lanterns, pots with flowers planted in them, flyers with short stories, a giant rainbow papier mâché amalgamation of animals.

I heard footsteps fade from crunching leaves beneath them to tapping as they reached the smooth surface of the pastel path. The person they belonged to coming up behind me and then standing at my side.

"Oy."

"How's it going, Fit?"

"Not bad, not bad."

"Heard I missed out yesterday, sorry about that."

"No worries, but yeah, hell of a day. Come on, I'll show you around."

Bits of tissue paper streamers were strewn about on the ground, some still dancing as they fell from the trees around us, occasionally getting caught in the branches on their journey.

A stray candy wrapper sometimes blew by like a tumbleweed, a few getting stuck in a group of leaves that had gathered in places around where the event was held.

"So I'm sure you heard about the eggs that stopped by."

"I did. Real shame I missed them."

"It is, and I know it's not the same, but you can visit their offrenda's over here, say hello, tell them you miss them, whatever."

"Lead the way, mate."

First we visited Juanaflippa.

Her alter had rows of potted lilacs and pink alliums lined up at the sides, and a few more pots scattered around the center.

A dozen or so pink candles were settled on the steps, some inside of skulls as a holder, most by themselves.

There was a shield, a few different swords, a couple of green apples, and some empty pink signs.

In the center of the alter was a painting of her wearing her glasses sitting in a gold frame.

I took a piece of flint and steel and relit the candles that had become flickering sparks of orange and thin plumes of smoke.

"Hey Juanaflippa.

Hope you're doing well. I don't know if that was really you that came back to visit us, I think maybe this means probably not, but I don't know.

Your dad really misses you, we all do, but your dad's a bit of a mess right now, more so than usual. Things are a bit off for him, physically and emotionally, not gonna lie.

We all miss you so much. We miss your little glasses and your backflips.

I hope you're doing alright, wherever you are."

Next was Bobby.

His alter had rows of potted turquoise flowers along the sides, along with a few violet and red ones, and a handful of the aquamarine ones in pots scattered around the center.

A dozen or so royal blue candles sat on the steps, some in skulls as a holder, most by themselves.

There were a couple of tridents, a gun, and some empty blue signs.

In the center of the alter was a painting of him wearing his denim overalls sitting in a gold frame.

I took a piece of flint and steel and relit the candles that had become flickering sparks of orange and thin plumes of smoke.

"Hey there Bobby.

Sorry I missed you yesterday. I hope you're doing alright.

Your parents miss you so much. I can tell your apa is sad sometimes, but he doesn't really show it, he doesn't show that side of him with anyone though, you're probably not all that surprised. He seems happy when he's with Cellbit though, you're probably not super surprised about that either. Your mom also gets kinda sad, but she's doing okay otherwise I think. Did you know she had wings? You'd like them.

We miss you, buddy. Your little dungarees and you giving us those blue flowers.

I hope you're doing good out there."

Then Tilín.

Her alter had rows of potted lilacs and some other red flowers along the sides, and some of the red ones in pots around the center.

A dozen or so crimson candles were settled on the steps, some in skulls as a holder, most by themselves.

There were some feathers, a piece of cake, a block of dynamite, and some empty red signs.

In the center of the alter was a painting of them with that little red bow on top of her head sitting in a gold frame.

I took a piece of flint and steel and relit the candles that had become flickering sparks of orange and thin plumes of smoke.

"Hi Tilín.

Hope you're alright.

Your dad doesn't talk about you a lot, I'll be honest, but it's not because he doesn't care about or miss you, he just doesn't know how to show or talk about things sometimes.

But he misses you so much, we all do. Your little ribbon and giving us red flowers.

I hope you're okay out there."

And finally Trumpet.

His alter had rows of potted daffodils and some other red and yellow flowers, some of both kinds were also scattered in the center.

A dozen or so yellow candles were settled on the steps, some in skulls as a holder, most by themselves.

There were some books, a few spiderwebs, and some empty yellow signs.

In the center of the alters was a painting of him with his propeller hat sitting in a gold frame.

I took a piece of flint and steel and relit the candles that had become flickering sparks of orange and thin plumes of smoke.

"Hey Trump.

I'm really sorry I missed you yesterday. But you weren't alone. There were so many people here for you.

I heard that even your dad was here. I'm sorry not everyone was there for you before and if you felt alone, no one deserves that, no matter their age. You didn't deserve what happened to you.

We all miss you and your little rainbow propeller hat so much.

I hope you're alright wherever you are. I hope you're happy. I hope you never feel alone again."

"Oh, sorry Fit, to be honest, kinda forgot you were here for a minute there."

I said as I heard a throat clear behind me.

"No worries, no worries, didn't wanna interrupt anything, thank you for saying those things though, I think they needed it, I think you kinda needed it too."

"Yeah, that felt kinda nice, thanks for bringing me by."

"I uh, I actually have one more thing to show you, if you'll follow me."

"Yeah, I'm really glad I uh, oh---"

We walked up to a set of red wooden stairs. An alter. An offrenda.

And in the center was a painting in a gold frame of a person wearing a skull with tusks, had long pink hair, a fuzzy red cape with white at the neck, and a crown.

Technoblade.

"Oh my God, dude, really?"

Fit just slowly nodded.

We stood and stared for a minute.

"Hey Fit, could you do me a favor?"

I reached for the camera in its bag around my neck.

"Yeah I gotcha."

There were rows of different leaves and potted flowers in blue and red along the side, and a few red and pink flowers in the center.

There were about a dozen white candles, all of them were lit.

There was a diamond sword, an emerald, a totem, a skull, an ender pearl, a crown, and a potato around the painting.

"I gotta leave something, hold on, do you have an anvil by chance?"

"I gotcha covered."

Both of our voices shook slightly.

Fit put down the anvil and I made a name tag, Toothpick, which I put on a diamond pickaxe, and placed that on the step between the totem and sword.

"This was really nice."

"It was really thoughtful."

"They really didn't have to do this."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask you for one more thing?"

"Of course."

"Can I have a second alone with him?"

"Take all the time you want, buddy."

I heard the leaves crunch as Fit's footsteps retreated and sat down on the ground in front of the alter. I brushed my fingers along blades of grass and the petals of one of the pink flowers in a pot beside me. I finally let the tears stuck to my waterline fall.

"Hey mate.

Has it really been almost a year and a half? That feels impossible.

There isn't a moment where you aren't on my mind. You're on a lot of people's minds. You'd probably be flattered though, make some kind of probably sarcastic comment, prick.

Wish you came by yesterday, maybe you did, who knows. Wish I was there to see if you did or not. Wish you could hear me telling you this right now, maybe you can, it's probably not impossible.

Chayanne, that egg kid of mine you maybe have heard me talk about, your nephew. You're his hero. And he's so much like you. I wish you could meet him.

I honestly don't know which of you is better at pvp, you both can put up a fight until the last second, you're both stubborn as all get out, and you both could win.

And Tallulah, Wilbur's egg, she's been staying with me since he had to go do his music and things, she knows about and admires you too.

You'd go kinda soft on her, guaranteed, she'd win you over. She'd give you poppies and play you music and make you laugh.

We all miss you, so goddamn much, take care wherever you are, okay Tech?"

After the tears on my face had dried and it felt like it had been quiet for long enough, I put my hand on the bottom step next to the pick one last time as a send off, then went through the archway to find Fit.

[rainbowskittle]

@speaknowbuckley 💜🎶Thank youuu!✨

Rules: Put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs + tag 10 people.

Tag: @coldbrewqueer @aribeexx @awholelottabi @walking-anomaly @re-bec-ca-ann @imadreamysoul @haceleyes @fyideanisbi @fuckinnproblems @livin-everyday @making-the-most-0f-it @girlswithguns22magnum @diaries-of-a-gay-girl @vainillabean

It’s sad I won’t get to all the music being good music is just out there forever. Love that about music too though. So happy this was shuffle since if I had to pick??? Haha nope I wouldn’t be able to.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Apart from metal, are there any other music genres you like to listen to, even just occasionally?

dgksldg no tbh I'm like one of those ~ everything but country ~ kinda people. BUT ACTUALLY I LIKE SOME DARK COUNTRY STUFF TOO I GUESS. Is it still country if it's like cowboy goth or graveyard Americana? idk. Really above any genre I just always want music that's kinda dark and gloomy or weird and erotic.

I consider myself a goth as much as I consider myself a metalhead, though! (Don't make me start a lecture about how goth subctulre is about music above aesthetic but...) So goth music is the other heavy hitter. I think I listen to them in equal parts! And when I say GOTH I mean like, trad goth but also the industrial umbrella. I think synthwave/darksynth belongs in here, too, because it's kinda spooky LOL and I MEAN METALHEADS LOVE PERTURBATOR dsahgk but I think you'll find that live shows definitely have goth scene overlap. On my quest to find like beautifully layered writing in goth/industrial music I also wound up getting into some psytrance like Infected Mushroom and others like them, so that's a fav area too.

And I listen to a lot of classical/neoclassical and film scores. And I listen to a lot of neofolk ! (Neofolk also has a huge metalhead overlap because of the black metal influence like Gaahl being a forming member of Wardruna, etc.)

I also really like jazz but I'm not very articulate about it! I like listening to a lot if it's gloomy enough but I sometimes just throw Spotify mixes on and I don't know a lot of the artists very well. I got really into Esperanza Spalding last year after seeing a live jazz group that did a cover of her!

I've had a last.fm account since 2005 LMAO and it's funny because my yearly top artists always kinda reflect what type of fics I've been writing. But this is my top artists of the last year. Opeth is the only one that's metal! It's spooky folk & sad piano stuff that I listen to when I write. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

this is my all time though since 2005 THAT'S ALMSOT 20 YEARS HAHA 🥰🥰🥰🥰

anyway I'm listening to my Tumbleweed playlist right now, which is for Keith Voltron; lyrics don't matter but it's all music I can daydream an AMV to where he's grieving by himself in the desert and this extremely gloomy song is on at the moment 🥰🥰

[magnetictapedatastorage]

nsfw

i regret that attempted bush fade so much. it's going to take MONTHS to grow back. i'm thankful its no longer prickly at least, but it was over a week until that stopped driving me up a wall every time i shifted in any way. swear to god i've never been so aware of the entire area in my LIFE.

as is, it just looks sad. no longer a happy tumbleweed...

[futurewife]

i keep wanting to reach out and say hi and check in but i completely forgot that our last dm conversation (however long ago it was, it was pre the new blog i think) ended on a weird place to pick back up again bc i was venting. so this is me saying hi i hope you're well in a way that avoids looking at that again SHGAAGHHA also i think your hypothetical(? i believe you haven't f/o'd a character like this yet) british puppyboy should have a playdate with *my* british puppyboy <3 - all the best, clownie

Hiiiii @circusgoth-dotcom <33

I hope things are going okay for you too. 💌 I wouldn't worry about when and what to message i actually am very lonely and appreciate any kind of interaction though I need to work on conversation skills lol I often say I'm re-inventing letter writing (may take a while to get back to you). I apologise too cause sometimes i feel at fault for drifting off and my convos kinda get *tumbleweed*

OHHHH HAHAHAHAH Yes I suppose it's more of a celebrity crush thing at the moment than a fictional other thing cause none of the characters thus far are actually british- just the actor, freddie stroma. I think this attraction to a made up imaginary romanticised sweet 'british boyfriend' concept is quite common for people outside of the country and is mostly fueled by celebrities, tv/movies and period dramas right? Clearly I'm not immune 😔 hahaha

I guess I could be doing worse in my offline life and idk I try not to bring it to here too much cause it's kinda sad and pathetic (kind of a shut-in with no bitches etc /lh) HAHA and this is my happy love and romance filled space!! where I get my unmet needs met and have fun with my understanding pals. but I am very glad to have a new actor/characters I can explore and get to know right now :) this is stating the obvious I love adrian/vigilante so so so much and even though this does not count as two british puppyboys I think he would speculatively find some common ground with wade if they ever met, so that would definitely be an interesting playdate :D

[gamma-gal-24]

for the ask game ive got 2 options for johnny and emma

🐎 - Cowboy AU or

🩸 - Vampire AU

pick ur posion👀

OUGH WHAT A CHOICE THIS IS!! How to choose, how to choose!��

You know what, I'm goung with the cowboys simply because I feel like Johnny would enjoy western movies!😂

So without further ado, here's Johnny Bravo and Emma Encore in a Cowboy AU!✨

🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴🐴

Okay, picture this- It's almost high-noon, the desert sun is high in the sky and tumbleweeds cartwheel across the dusty town streets. All seems to be calm and peaceful when the sheriff rides in towards the saloon.

Parling her black stallion at the trough, she hops off the saddle, spurs jingling at her heels. Sheriff Encore strides in with a bandanna over her face and makes her way across the saloon over to the bar.

She takes a seat leans against the counter, uncovering her face to shoot the barkeep a bright smile. His big, blonde pompadour makes him hard to miss. He's so big and dramatic compared to everyone else in town; it makes her laugh.

"Afternoon, Bravo! Pour me whatever you recommend, I can't decide today." Emma says with a grin and a laugh. Johnny turns abruptly, glass in one hand and a rah in the other. "HUH-YUH-!" He exclaims, almost dropping everything he holds. "Miss Emma, you say that every time you come in! How come you never know what you want? Is that a woman thing?"

The sheriff just laughs, the upbeat music playing from the piano doing nothing to drown her out. She takes off her hat and sets it on the counter. She comes in every day at thw same time and has Johnny make her two of whatever he likes, one for her, and the other she leaves for him with a wink. It's the same every day.

"You should know better than to ask questions by now, Mister Bravo." She chuckles, watching him pour something into thw glass he had just "cleaned." Johnny was never very tidy. The neatest thing about him was his hair, which he refused to put a hat over. He spills half the drink on the counter every time.

Johnny shoots her one if his smoking, boyish smirks and a wave of his brows. That barkeep is just such a flirt. "Now why would I wprry about knowin' better when I could just get to knkw you instead?"

*end scene😚*

Anyhoo, in case none of that made a lick of sense, in a Cowboy AU Emma would be a sherrif and Johnny the barkeep(who low-key doesn't know what he's doing.)

The dusty little town of Aron is a peaceful one- there aren't hardly any bandits or fights, no, the lady sheriff keeps them all away... Until one day she can't.

A pack of wanted bandits ride in long after sunset and gang up on Emma five to one... And I'm sad to say it doesn't turn out well for her.😓

Johnny and the bar oatrons can hear the commotion outside, but it's only after Emma stumbles in badly wounded that anyone understands what's happened! Of course Johnny is mortified, he's never seen his sheriff hurt before!

He practically plows through half the tables in the saloon to get to her before she falls.

He and his Momma sneak her out to back to see the doctor, but Johnny is far from satisfied. Nobidy lays a hand on *his* sheriff and gets away with it, or his name isn't Johnny Bravo!

And so, with a flip of his hair and a flex or three, he stomps out into the night to deal with those thugs himself!

Now, does.he get his butt kicked? Most assuredly. But does he manage to win anyways and sent those varmints running for the hills? Absolutely!

Come sunrise everybody's having a ball, celebrating in Johnny's honor!

And once Emma, (all banged up but still a kickin') pulls him aside, she gives him two things...

A badge.... And a kiss.

And so the Sheriff and her new deputy ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. The end.🤠💕💓💕