#Wouldn'ta

[unrelentingelsens]

I hate talking to my online friends about serious stuff because we'll be playing cod and asking about our families and then I'll get mercilessly bullied for my stupid fuckin southern accent

[hanmaitani]

Betrayal

PAIRING - Miya Osamu x Reader WC - 1.4K GENRE - Light Angst not really Crack Fic lbr CW - mentions of cheating

"I'm sorry."

It was a whisper, a pathetic sentiment at the moment.

"Osamu, please, I'm sorry."

There was nothing else you could say. You knew that. You couldn't even look at his face. You looked anywhere you could besides him. Your fingers pulled lightly at a loose thread on the sleeve of your sleep shirt, the loose shirt that belonged to the man you currently couldn't look in the eye.

"S'that all ya have t'say?" The betrayed tone bled through Osamu's voice as he leaned against the wall across from you.

You were suddenly extremely aware of how uncomfortable your couch was in this moment. You averted your eyes again, focusing on the coffee table in front of you now. It was a pretty glass top one that Osamu and you had picked out together your first month in your little apartment together.

You almost smiled as you remembered how happy you and Osamu had been to decorate your apartment together. You didn't because you remembered that you were about to be in one of the biggest fights you'd ever been in with each other.

And it was your fault.

"What else am I supposed to say 'Samu?" There was nothing you could say.

"I didn't mean to?" You did mean to.

"I didn't know what I was doing?" You knew exactly what you were doing and how much it would hurt him if he found out.

"I didn't do it?" You both knew that wasn't true. You had been caught red-handed. He had walked into the room in the middle of it.

You sighed and hung your head again. Your eyes trained on the decorative rug under your feet. You slowly traced the design with your toe as you waited for him to respond.

"How could ya do that t'me?" His voice was soft and if you didn't know better you'd say he was about to cry. But you knew better and you knew that if Osamu was arguing with you and was going to cry, he'd wait until you weren't there. Thinking that crying would only make you feel worse. You could say that this time, you might deserve to feel worse than you already were. But he was always thinking about you. Even now. "I thought ya loved me y/n."

Your head shot up then, eyes connecting with his. His eyes were filled with genuine hurt and you could feel your heartstrings slowly snapping. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles tensed and if the situation was different, you would have been simply admiring how absolutely attractive he was and how lucky you were to have him around. Instead- "I do love you!" You shouted, unintentionally being louder than you meant. You quieted yourself. He didn't deserve to be yelled at. "I love you so much Osamu."

He scoffed a little bit, turning his head to look away from you. "Ya love me so much." He drew out the 'so' and you flinched a little bit at the sarcasm in his voice. Tone biting into you. "That's why ya went and betrayed me like this!" His arm flung out and pointed towards the evidence of your betrayal as he yelled. You bit your lip, shame filling you. "If ya loved me ya wouldn'ta done it!"

"I'm sorry 'Samu!" You shouted back, losing your calm composure. "I don't know what I was thinking!" You sniffed a bit and gestured randomly as you continued. "You just weren't around! And it had been so long!" You threw your head back and groaned lightly, shifting your volume back down. "I don't know, I just couldn't wait anymore. I'm sorry 'Samu."

You lifted your eyes back to meet his as he looked at you incredulously. "Are ya kiddin' me!?" He was pissed now and you almost regretted your outburst. Almost. "Ya couldn't wait!? That's yer reason fer betrayin' my trust!" He laughed then, not a happy one that filled you with joy, not like the usual way he did. A bark of a laugh, one filled with irritation and sarcasm. "This is the last straw y/n! We're done!"

Your jaw dropped then. Amazed at the words that had just come out of the mouth of the man you swore you loved more than anything. "You're joking." He shook his head and crossed his arms again, looking away from you. You groaned in irritation. "You're being dramatic Osamu!" You were shouting without regret now. "It's not that big of a deal!"

"Dramatic!?" He looked back at you, jaw dropped. "Ya cheated on me!"

You rolled your eyes then, the last bits of your apologies draining. "I did not cheat on you!" You defended yourself to him.

"Ya betrayed me!" He shouted back, flinging his arms around to emphasize his point.

You ran your hands over your face in exasperation. "Now you're just actin' like 'Tsumu." You dug at him and watched as his jaw dropped at you. If he wasn't betrayed before, he surely was now.

"How dare-"

You cut him off. "It was just food, 'Samu! I'm sorry!" You went to stand from your position on the couch finally, taking a step towards him.

He stopped leaning against the wall in order to step away from you. That hurt. "Just food! I wake up 'spectin' to see my beautiful girl cuddled with me and 'stead find ya out here eatin' without me!"

"I tried to wait for you!" You raised your voice again. "You were the one not waking up! I thought I could get away with it before you woke up!"

"Ya thought ya could get away with it!?" You cringed as he mimicked back your choice of words, a bad choice. He pointed back to the evidence of your betrayal - an empty take out bag that you had door dashed to your apartment with the instructions to not knock and only text so that you wouldn't risk waking Osamu. "Didn't even think to get me somethin'!?"

"I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you please." You lowered your voice and he let you step closer. "I'll buy you whatever food you want from wherever you choose for the rest of the day." You could see his body visibly relax a little as he started to calm down.

You looked up at him and tapped on his collarbone lightly, trying to get him to look down at you and stop looking over your head to avoid you and your remorseful stare. "Forgive me baby?" He grumbled as you leaned up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat, your usual indicator that you wanted him to lean down for a real kiss.

"Three days." He bartered with you, finally looking down and catching your gaze.

You hummed in thought before shaking your head. "Two. Take it or leave it."

"Fine." He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer at last. "You drive me crazy." He mumbled the half-hearted insult and pressed a soft kiss against your lips before releasing you.

Now that you two were done arguing, you could take a moment to appreciate the way he looked as he stepped back. Shirtless (stolen by your form) with his sweats hanging low on his hips, hair still messy from sleep. You smiled as you caught his eyes linger on your bare thighs, right where his shirt ended. He only rolled his eyes and turned away when he realized that he'd been caught.

"So, are we okay now?" You sing-songed as he started to walk back to your bedroom.

"You're still y/n for the next two hours." He threw back over his shoulder. "You don't get to be called Angel yet."

It was your turn to have your jaw drop in shock. "You never deny me of cute nicknames! You can't do that!" You scrambled to follow after him, not being able to see the smirk creeping onto his lips at your reaction.

"Ya compared me t'Tsumu." He wasn't honestly mad about it anymore, but he would be lying if he said he didn't find it cute to watch you pout at not being called by your usual nickname. He'd ;et you off the hook later, and make up for it at length.

"I said I was sorry!"

a/n a rewrite of my first ever fic <33 i still love her

[moistvonlipwig]

for the record i think claiming walter white is a "sociopath"/has aspd or npd/otherwise lacks empathy is a fundamental misreading of his character. if walt truly lacked empathy and remorse he would not need to do a tenth of the self-justifying he does. he jumps through wild logical hoops to justify his actions to himself because he DOES feel bad about them. lalo and todd are imo the only brba/bcs characters who actually lack empathy and remorse which you can see from the fact that they DON'T feel the need to self-justify. because why would they? in their minds, they do what they have to do to achieve their goals. too bad some people die along the way, but oh well! it is what it is.

meanwhile walt is permanently teetering on a balance beam composed of lies he has told himself and he knows deep inside that if he falls off that balance beam and admits to himself that his actions were unjustifiable then the guilt will consume him. that's also why he's so obsessed with the idea of "contamination" as seen with the rot, the fly, etc. -- because part of him knows all his actions are contaminated and he doesn't WANT them to be, he WANTS to excise his guilt but he never can because he can never stop self-justifying long enough to accept his guilt for more than a few minutes. he knows he's the problem deep down but he just cannot accept it so he keeps digging his own grave ever deeper and deeper in a futile effort to get away from himself. a lot of his words and actions actually spring from his desire to justify his past actions and make himself feel okay about them. if he felt no guilt or empathy then he wouldn'ta done half the shit he did lol

[knockoff-conlon]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

race walks into brooklyn like he owns the place. for all he looks like a myriad of bruises, blood, and scratches, there's a remarkably happy feel about him. albert ignores it, focusing on picking at the bandages on his knuckles. when davey sees mack, he expects trouble. but race says hi to her and she smiles and replies. they exchange quick and quiet words before their group is moving again. "god, i hate brooklyn."

"shut up, al, you hate everything."

"brooklyn kids are fuckin' weird and they all make fun of me or try hittin' on me." race snorts.

"are you here a lot?" davey asks race, who nods and turns around to talk to him.

"i sell here. i know everyone that runs 'round brooklyn. even the queen herself, spot conlon." albert laughs like it's funny and shoves race to keep going forward. "shut up. i do know her, don' i?"

"oh yeah, you know her." spot's court is fuller than last time. some girls glare as they walk onto the docks, other smile and wave at albert and race. stray gets up and gives davey a little curtsy as he walks by.

"idiot, sit down," hotshot tells her. splint is standing behind stray's little crate. another girl immediately jumps up and smacks race across the face. "hey!" albert and hotshot yell together.

"s'okay, guys," race says. he's laughing. "this is lucky. i owe her money."

"yeah 'nd ya better pay up or damn what spot's gotta say, i'm killin' ya!" lucky takes a seat on a crate as the three boys push to the front of the docks. spot is sat on her crate, talking to a girl beside her and not paying attention.

race clears his throat. "spottie." it's surprising she can even hear him over all the noise, but her head whips around so fast it must hurt when he speaks.

"race." she's off her throne in a second, running for him. "race, oh my god." her hands run over him, touching every bruise she sees.

"i'm fine, spot." all of her newsies are looking away, for a reason davey can't really discern. he doesn't. she pushes race's shirt up, checking his ribs and chest. "spot, c'mon." he pulls her hands off of him. "relax."

"you- i didn't know," she whispers, reaching up to cradle his face. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

"stop it already, it's all okay." she nods, fidgeting with his hair. "go back to your throne. ya gotta hold court for me. c'mon." he shoves her slightly and she nods, taking her seat again. she doesn't acknowledge albert or davey, just stares at race, scanning him with her eyes over and over again.

"i- you guys got soaked, huh?" she says quietly.

"yeah." race nods. her newsies looks back at her again and are silent now.

"how bad is it? and where's jack?" she's fully dropped her cool demeanor and he can see the full terror in her eyes.

"bad. we don't know where he went." race swallows. "he ran off after the whole fight. and crutchie got hauled off t' the refuge."

"okay."

"aside from that, al and i got it the worst." her hand tightens on her cane. "we'll be okay. 'hattan is tough," he says quickly. it's convincing, at the very least.

"well, ya fuckin' stood your ground, didn't ya?" spot mutters. "got yourselves beaten and bruised but still held up." race grins at her. "it wouldn'ta happened if we'd joined."

"who gives a fuck?" albert bites out suddenly. "i ain't walkin' cross the bridge just for your guys' shit. c'mon, ya joinin' or are we wastin' our time?" davey winces, expecting spot's ire to be brought upon him.

"what's next for the strike, davey?" she asks.

"i dunno," davey says. "we- we just need to know you'll be there. said it yourself, we wouldn't be where we are if you'd joined us." she looks at race, appraising him.

"we'll be there. for sure." davey has never felt more like he's missing something. he looks around at race and albert.

"just, c'mon," albert says. "race has gotta talk to spot a little more." davey and albert start to leave for manhattan. spot jumps off her throne again and grabs race's shirt.

"i'm checkin' ya out, race. now," she orders. he smiles at her, lets her do whatever she wants to so she knows he's okay. "i'm sorry, i shoulda protected you."

"no. s'okay, i know ya got your girls. ain't blamin' ya for nothin'." he rolls his shoulders out.

"tilt your chin up." he looks up. "who choked ya?"

"delanceys." spot steps onto her tiptoes and presses a light kiss over his adam's apple. "spot, calm down."

"i ain't ever lettin' someone hurt ya like that again. no one's gonna fuckin' touch ya, i swear." he smiles.

"just show up next time and everythin' will be okay."

[bite-sized-devil]

💕 Love letters 💕

Written as an add on to @crazyyanderefangirlfan idea posted here

Summary: yeah as if I'm writing that, check out the original post if you want info. And then hit like and reblog because it was such a good idea! Love you Yan 💕💕

Lucifer: Little dove, I see the effort you put into your studies and extracurricular activities. Your achievements should fill you with pride, as having you as part of my family fills me with pride. Forgive me, love. You mean the world to me.

Mammon: If I'd a known those notes were from you MC I wouldn'ta reacted so dumb like! I fish'd 'em outta the garbage, just so ya know. They're keep'n Goldie company. Say, you wouldn't wanna write another one would ya? I'll keep it like it's my most prized possession. Like how I'd keep you. I love you

Leviathan: My first stalker turns out to be you MC? That's like, straight out of one of my favourite animes where the hero keeps getting these notes left for him to find and it turns out to be his childhood friend who he's been in love with for years but he was scared she didn't feel the same- anyway I miss you MC, please come play games with me again. I won't stop sending you these little notes until you agree! I neeeeeeeeed my player two.

Satan: Dearest MC, I am filled with the utmost rage and regret at my inability to determine that those notes were from you. Please accept my most humble apology, I'm sorry my love. Going forward I would request that you sign them, not necessarily in your name but a simple signature so that I can determine their origin. For example: signed kitten. Yours eternally, Satan.

Asmo: Screaming! Crying! MC! You are such a naughty little thing, sending me love notes and not signing your name. How am I supposed to know which of my admirers they were from? Darling, next time you want to write me a note, just come to my door. Let's save the trees and skip the paper altogether. Love letters are so much more fun when they are written in kisses on the naked skin. 😘😘

Beel: Doesn't write you a note, comes to you in person later that night standing in your doorway. He's so big but looks so small in that moment, giving you puppy dog eyes as he clutches your smaller hands in his. "MC are you really over us? Because I'm not over you. I'm in love with you, I want you. Always. I kept every note you gave me. I knew they were from you, I know your hand writing and I know your scent. Please forgive my brothers, they're sorry, I know they are."

Belphegor: I'm always making mistakes with you MC, would you forgive me again? Please, I'll beg if I have to. Can I make it up to you? I'll do anything for you, kill for you, give you anything you want. Just, say you'll forgive me. I keep having nightmares about you leaving me, forgetting about me, hating me, and yet it's still not as hellish as hearing you say you're over me. I'm sorry MC, I took you for granted and swear to you I never will again.

What do you think Yan? Begging is a good colour on them. Kinda dig that 😅☺️😘

@delphi-dreamin @sassykattery @alexxavicry @your-next-daydream @rosanism @marvelous-maniac @i-hardly-know @kyungjoon-do @ria-demon29 @itsmeninerz @allielozoya @spookyscaryskeletonn @zarakem @tea-time-writes @ladyofcrowsx-deactivated2023040 @yuujispinkhair @attic-club-sandwich @whimsiecat @bontensbabygirl @beelzebubneedsabeelzehug @lostsomewhereinthegarden @simpsations @randomnerdthingz @weeb24555

[08melancholie]

Honeysuckle and Whiskey. — Micah Bell/OC

CHAPTER 7 — Fancy Outing.

words: 4,854 | AO3 LINK — MASTERLIST

(Chapter 1 "Colter and Gang Rivalry" or Masterlist for tags and summary.)

Melody avoided Micah like the plague; on jobs, they never spoke. They'd nod along to Dutch's plan and if they had to communicate, it was mostly physical—pointing and waving or nodding to each other. In camp, they barely even looked one-another's way.

Micah was known for his distaste in anyone who wasn't a pure American, that lived there. Everyone knew it, and so did Melody. It was one of many reasons she took no interest in him; he obviously despised her presence, knowing she's half-German.

Now, she stayed in her tent, slumped over her cot and sitting on it with her forearms on her knees, groaning. She was usually one of the first people up, getting her morning coffee and smoke before starting her chores early. It was unusual, and a lot of the member's eyes were fixated on her closed tent flaps.

She knew slumping and moping in her tent all morning wouldn't fix anything, so she tapped her own thighs and stood up, buttoning up her checkered red flannel and opening the flaps of her tent. Her eyes fell on Arthur's, and she gave him a knowing glare. Melody walked over to him immediately, leaning across the table he sat on while eating Pearson's stew.

"You've doomed me, cowboy." She hissed, hands on her hips as she scolded him.

"You said you'd accept anyone." He teased.

"I'll skin you and use you for Pearson's stew, boy. I can't believe you told Dutch to bring.. Micah.. with me, of all people!" She said, lowering her voice as she said his name, unaware of where he could be around camp.

He waved his hand slightly at her. "Calm down. I'm sure you'll both do just fine." He continued his antagonising, making Melody groan nervously.

She put her head down on her forearms, leaning down on the table with a sigh. "I will actually murder you, Morgan."

"Okay! I'll stop. Think of it as.." He stopped to think, unable to find anything positive to add to his stupid decision. "Well, damn." He shrugged, taking another spoonful of stew into his mouth.

She leaned back up, un-arching her back and fixing her hat slightly. "Does he know?" She asks, to which Arthur just shrugs. "Just dandy. I'm.. gonna get myself distracted with chores." She says, dipping her head to Arthur and walking to Pearson's station to wash any remaining dishes from this morning.

Busying herself with chores was definitely the way to go, she worked around camp quietly and nobody seemed to disturb her, either. It would be a losing battle to try and convince Dutch to bring anyone else with her—his word was final.

She did practically everything that day; from washing dishes, helping the women sew the bullet holes in some shirts to even helping Sean make a few molotovs with the leftover alcohol around camp.

"I heard 'ya goin' on a job with Micah Bell, eh?" He spoke, stuffing and dampening a rag into one of the bottles.

She groaned at the simple mention of that cowboys' name. "Don't even mention it. I want to simply back out of the job as a whole." She gave him the next bottle, running her fingers through her brown locks and pushing it away from her face.

Sean laughed, getting the next rag out. "He ain't all that bad, girl. I'm sure yous will do good." He smirked slightly, setting the last bottle down. "You could always take me as 'ya plus one, lass." He grabbed a hold on her hand, bringing the knuckles to his face with a kiss. Of course.

She couldn't help but laugh at his absurd suggestion. "We need someone who'll fit in with high-society fellers, Sean." She teased, letting her hand fall to her side. "Which is why I don't understand the choice of Micah!" She complained, leaning her hip on the table.

"I wouldn'ta know. But I think you'll do just fine, girl." He reassured her, taking the freshly made molotovs away. She waved him off with a thankful smile, looking at the horses as she neared the final chore she could busy herself with.

Obviously, started with her horse. "Hey.. how are you?" She asked, brushing it's nose gently. She reached into her satchel for a small peppermint, starting to brush it's mane with her other hand as the horse took the treat happily.

All the horses done but one; per usual, Baylock was last. She started at him for a moment, biting the inside of her cheeks as her hands rested on her hips. She was mighty hesitant today, especially with the thought of Micah in her head all day. She reluctantly brushed its nose gently, expecting another attempt to bite her fingers but raising an eyebrow in surprise as the horse nuzzled into it.

She felt herself smile a little, using her other hand to pet his neck as he whinnied happily at her. "Look at that... You're in a good mood, boy." She commented, looking at it's face in awe at his good behaviour.

"He usually tries biting people for that."

The voice rung in her ears nervously for a moment before she turned to be met with his figure leaned on a nearby tree, a white hat covering most of his face up past the nose as he played with the revolver in his hand, spinning it around over his finger in the trigger hole.

She exhaled slowly, turning her whole body to slightly face him. "I know, he's tried biting me every other time I'd done it." She said, continuing to pamper the horse with gentle pats and nuzzles.

He holstered the gun, still making no effort to look up at Melody which made her overly nervous, turning back and starting to brush out Baylock's mane.

They stood in a tense but oddly comfortable silence for a few minutes; Micah leaned on the tree with his knife and a piece of wood, carving it—Melody tending to his horse, much more careful under his watch.

She soon finished, putting the brush back and taking a few peppermints out for Baylock. He took them nicely at first, making a final attempt to bite her finger at the end. "Hey! Back to your old self, eh boy?" She took her hand away, chuckling slightly which got Micah's attention.

"He tried to bite you?" He asked lowly, finally tipping his hat up to look at her. God, why was this so horribly awkward?

She nodded, taking a few steps away from the horse, standing a few feet next to Micah as they spoke for a moment. "I'm.. I mean, there's no reason to avoid it;" She started, hands behind her back as she turned to fully face him, Micah looking at her from the side. "you do know about.. the job, tomorrow?" She asked.

He just nodded silently, tilting his head down to cover his face and carving his knife into the wooden stake.

"Mhm.. okay, and you do know.. your role, and mine?" She guessed so, earning another silent nod which made her exhale sharply. "Good. It's only two hours, I'm.. well aware we both aren't too fond of this." She said firmly.

He stopped the carving for a moment, giving her a side glance and nodding without a word again, holstering his knife and putting his wood stake away. He leaned his body on the tree to fully face her, staring at her through half-lidded eyes.

She bit the inside of her cheek, watching his own piercing gaze intently. "Yeah. Okay.. goodnight, then.. I guess." She dipped her head down at him, walking off without looking back once. His obviously judging gaze pissed her well off, making her storm off as nonchalantly as possible.

He watched her walk away, spitting on the ground before doing the same, hands on his gun belt as he walked down to his tent on the other side of camp.

She dreaded going to bed that night, staring down the dress she had to wear tomorrow, which sat neatly on the table opposite the entrance of her tent, as if trying to simply burn it with her gaze to prevent herself having to go. She groaned quietly into her hand, undoing the buttons of her shirt whilst slipping her feet out of her boots, kneeling before her clothing chest to find her usual nightwear; a longer white blouse which reached just over her backside, covering what was needed. She didn't have anything comfortable enough underneath, so she'd settled with just sleeping pant-less.

She slipped the blouse on, buttoning it just enough to cover her bare chest and unzipping her trousers, slipping out of them and tossing them aside as she sat on the cot, taking one last dreadful look at the dress before blowing the lantern behind her head out and laying flat on her back.

The morning she was met with was awfully discouraging; in a few hours, she'd be attending a very fancy outing with the company of Micah Bell. She dreaded the morning sun as her eyes closed last night, and could barely get herself up and out of the damn tent.

Nonetheless, she forced herself up and changed into something comfortable for the time being; simple blue trousers and a breezy, light yellow blouse accompanied by a matching creamy-orange neckerchief. She did her hair into a loose braid, letting it hang over her shoulder as she put on brown boots this morning, walking out with her satchel on her shoulder, over her torso and resting neatly on her hip.

She walked to the campfire, greeted by two giddy outlaws like two days prior. "I don't even want to hear it." She immediately protested as John barely opened his mouth.

The man chuckled, watching her smugly as she sat down on the log next to him with a sharp exhale. She poured herself some coffee—first things first. "I just wanted to say it's nice to see you adding some color into your life." He looked at the—much more colourful than usual—tone of attire she'd picked, and Arthur nodded along in agreement.

"First things I saw, I really couldn't care as I'll be changing again in a few hours." She shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee in her mug slowly.

"You two even talked 'bout it yet? I know I ain't seen you talk once since it was announced." Arthur asked, resting his forearms on his knees as he leaned in slightly.

Melody pursed her lips for a moment. "Last night. Or well, evening." She said meekly, bringing her mug to her lips. "Which.. it was barely a conversation." This intrigued the two cowboys, and they both leaned in for more.

"Well? What'd he say to 'ya?"

She chuckled and smirked slightly, deciding to get some payback—even if nothing could make up having to work with Micah. "None of your business." She stuck her tongue out at them playfully, standing up with her coffee mug to walk off wherever. "I'm free from chores today, think I'll go see the girls."

The men groaned at her in disappointment, obviously intrigued as she walked away smugly. That's for conspiring against her.

Soon, after she'd spent most of the day helping the girls wherever she possibly could, the evening sun started setting, and so did her situation.

"So, who's the plus-one?" Karen spoke up, talking to Melody as the few of the girls were sewing some of the clothes.

All eyes befell the woman, and she couldn't help but look down which intrigued every single one of them even more. "God, you wouldn't believe it." She said, sighing into her lap.

"You have to tell us now! Javier? Arthur? Charles?" Tilly started listing down practically every man in camp, exceptions being Micah and Kieran. Melody just shook her head to every single name.

Mary-Beth and she shared a glance, which made the girl burst out laughing. "No way! Did Dutch actually pick him?" She asked between gasps for air.

"It's not that funny! Imagine being in my shoes!" Melody ducked her head down, hiding the embarrassed flush of her face as the girl laughed at her situation.

"Who is it?"

"You don't even want to know." Melody responded to Sadie's question.

"It's Micah Bell." Mary-Beth revealed, which sent the entire group laughing.

Melody glared at Mary-Beth for revealing the information for a moment. "It ain't that funny!" She lowered her head as much as she could, embarrassed and red as a beet.

"Christ, Melody. Are you sure you want to go?" Karen teased, all of the women setting their sewing equipment down to tease and talk to the cowgirl.

"'Course I don't!" She replied, lifting her head up to meet their eyes and teasing glances. "But Dutch won't let me back down or switch Micah out." She complained, looking around a bit before saying his name—as if their yelling wouldn't be enough for him to hear if he was around.

The women joked with her whilst also reassuring her that it'll be just fine; which she barely believed.

"I'll have to go get ready, if you'll excuse me." She stood up and set her own sewing needle down, dipping her head at the circle of women before walking off, hearing their little snickers behind her.

She stood in her tent for a moment, contemplating burning the dress as a whole right now.

"Just.. two hours." She reassured herself, unbuttoning her blouse.

The dress slipped on as easily as in the store, the corset being the only problem as she tried to get it perfectly tight to bring out her features—usually hidden by more loose shirts—while also managing to breathe like normal. She got it down after a few minutes, working with her hair next. She decided to go for a half up braid, letting a few loose strands stand out. She looked in the mirror one last time nervously before walking out.

To say she got quite a few glances would be an understatement; it was abnormal, yes, but surely it didn't make her stand out that much?

"My, my." The familiar voice of a man greeted her with his arm extended for her. "You look dashing, my dear." Josiah Trelawny exclaimed, bringing her gloved hand to his mouth and kissing the clothed knuckles gently. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd be wearing a dress." He added, walking her to the rest of the men.

"Didn't know you were also coming!" She said excitedly, having not seen the man in quite a while, maybe two months. He shot her a smile as they got to where the others were, leaned against a wagon and smoking.

Everyone had dressed quite nicely, and she had to admit; she definitely eyed both Javier and John for a moment too long.

Javier was the first to comment on her attire. "Looking very good, mi Linda." He said with a nod of his head, and she responded with one of her own. "Same for you two! We really do look the part." She mused, taking a moment to scan around for her alleged plus-one. She silently prayed he backed down after she couldn't catch a glimpse of him anywhere.

Dutch showed up soon, Micah trailing behind him; which absolutely ruined the chances of Melody ever praying to a God for something again. Dutch looked like he fit in with the group—as he usually dressed slightly fancier than he needed to as an outlaw. "My, you'd have me fooled for Saint Denis gentlemen any day." He commented, turning his gaze to Melody and eyeing her attire for a moment. "And gentlewomen." He added quickly, making her smirk slightly.

Her eyed landed on Micah as Dutch moved out of the way, dragging Trelawny away a moment to speak to him. He wore a creamy-white suit, matching pants and shirt with a gold trail down the collar. It definitely looked weird; seeing Micah all dressed up, but she couldn't exactly say he looked bad. His eyes did a swift scan of her, stuck between uninterested and slightly taken aback.

"I think it'll go pretty good." She said confidently, squeezing herself between Javier and John to avoid having to stand next to Micah more than she'll already be forced to.

"Confident, eh?" Javier responded, handing her his half-used cigarette which she gladly takes, inhaling the smoke into her lungs before it exits through her nose.

She shrugs slightly, with a smug smirk. "I guess so. I trust this was a good choice." She pointed between the three of them, not paying much attention to Micah's scoff which didn't go unnoticed by the two men either.

John was quite amused and giddy all day, excited to watch this all play out before his eyes. "I think Micah's a good choice, too."

Melody nudged him, not caring about Micah's glare between the two. "Don't start." She whispered, eyeing Micah's annoyed expression.

John shrugged and let it go, not wanting to rile the two up more as he still wanted the job to go smooth. Javier watched the banter in silence, but he definitely found it a good show.

Dutch returned with Trelawny, and urged everyone into the wagon. Melody—again—made sure she didn't have to sit next to Micah; or close at all. She sat herself between Javier and John in the back, Micah and Trelawny at the front. She conversed with the two men for a while, the ride being pretty long as they lived two towns over Saint Denis. It took a few hellish hours, but they arrived on time nonetheless.

John exited first, helping Melody out and chuckling as Javier also took his helping hand, the three laughing amongst each other when John acts out the motion of kissing Javier's hand. The jokes and banter ended as soon as her eyes landed on Micah, rolling her eyes and saying bye to the two outlaws as they mouthed 'good luck' to her.

The silence between them was tense and uncomfortable this time. "Okay.. C'mon." She waited for him to do anything; extend his hand for her, hold her by the waist or anything else a couple would do. He looked at her a little dumbfounded, which made her scoff in annoyance. "Goddamn, give me your hand or something." She said.

He gritted his teeth at her attitude, silently putting his hand up to her to hold onto as they began walking to the boat entrance together.

They approached the entrance from the dock and onto the boat. "Bell and.. Mühl." Micah said to a guard with a list—his pronunciation of her last name horrid—a stoic expression on his face which annoyed Melody further. She squeezed his arm a bit, looking at him with a smile and implying for him to do the same. He forced it onto his face, and they got checked in.

"All weapons in here." The guard ordered, Micah pulling his hand back to throw his revolvers into it. The guard eyed Melody as she didn't put anything in.

"What? You expect a woman to be carrying? That's silly." She laughed, expecting him to do the same but he just repeated himself. She groaned, parting the slit going up her thigh slightly and slipping the small dagger she hid in her garter out, tossing it with a sour smile. Micah's lips tugged into a slight smirk, enjoying the small moment a little too much.

She took his hand again, walking with him to the inside of the boat. "Christ, they're strict." She muttered, walking upstairs and through a door to where the party really was.

Micah nodded silently, walking her into the huge room with about four poker and two pool tables. She eyed the lavish decorations for a moment before Benjamin caught her gaze, his unique smile easily recognizable for her. She nudged Micah forward to him. "Don't mess it up." She whispered, which made him scoff discreetly. She really loved testing him.

"Benjamin! Hello, friend." She said, her voice a bit more high-pitched as she walked, holding her hand out to the man. He took it gladly, kissing her gloved knuckles quickly. "This is.. Mr. Bell, the man I spoke of. My man." She immediately thought of washing her mouth out with soap as the words left her mouth.

Benjamin sat her down, flicking his gaze over to the bartender and calling him over. "My, how good it is to see you again, Melody. I've quite missed you." He pampered her with his words, signaling for both of them to take a seat, which they did. Melody put her hands on the bar, followed by Micah who slid one over her hand, making her breath hitch in her throat for a moment. He's really playing the part now.

"What'll it be?" The bartender approached the three.

"A Scotch for me." Melody spoke, Micah nodding in agreement to the choice.

"Just a refill." Benjamin said, sliding his glass to the man.

Melody eyed Micah's hand for a moment before turning her gaze to Benjamin. "Thank you very much for the opportunity tonight, friend." She mused, acting subtly flirtatious, giggling into her free hand as she stared up at him through her lashes with her head angled down slightly.

Benjamin waved it off, the tips of his ears reddening. "It is quite alright, dear." He flicked his gaze to the bartender who slid everyone their drinks, and the three raised their glasses before drinking.

It took a bit of small talk for Benjamin to finally let them start playing, Melody and Micah standing up with their third round of drinks as they walked to one of the poker tables Benjamin instructed them to. "Lose the first, win roughly the rest. You remember what he said, I hope." Melody spoke against his ear. He grunted lowly, sitting down in the last available chair. Seeing as she had to observe and keep close, Melody stood behind Micah with her hands on his shoulders, gently digging her fingertips into the smooth, expensive fabric.

As said, Micah lost the first one. It was a simple win for the other man at the table, a few chips to start. Then, Micah started winning on the higher of biddings, ending up with a hefty amount just from about ten rounds. He managed to stay in and bankrupt most of the players, only two leaving with the little bit of money they had.

The true fun for the both of them was scamming and pickpocketing the bastards; Micah would take their belongings while Melody distracted the men with a hand on the shoulder, a slip-up of her dress's slit, showing off her thighs slightly or straight-up obnoxious flirting. They stuffed everything into Micah's pockets, sharing a few giggles and chuckles with each person they conned.

After about an hour and a half, the four people met up outside for a smoke and to talk. John and Javier were already there and smoking, leaning over the railing with a cigarette each. Micah and Melody walked out soon after they did—right on time, as planned—with Melody still automatically holding onto his arm, and Micah not making an attempt at moving it either.

"Take is looking good." She commented, making the two men turn and lean on the railing behind them, immediately eyeing their arms interwind with one another. Melody noticed and quickly let go, coughing and leaning next to John. "Give me one, I have no pockets." She murmured to John, eyeing his cigarette.

"Mm.. no. You never let me borrow." He teased, putting the cigarette to his lips and blowing the smoke into her face to mock her further. "Should have stuffed it in your garter."

"Boo, you're a horrible friend. Javi?" She stuck her tongue out at John and leaned over, Javier handing her one of his last ones from the box in his pocket. "See how nice he is to me?" She mused, letting Javier light her cigarette.

John scoffed, chuckling lowly. "You said take is looking good?" He repeated her words when they first arrived, watching her take a long drag of the cigarette.

She hummed in agreement, blowing the smoke away from them. "Yes. Micah played a while and Benjamin gave us quite the win." She nodded her head to Micah. "How much?"

Micah recounted the number in his head. "'Round three thousand, bit more."

"Oh, you were not joking! That's damn good, Dutch'll be proud." John replied, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

Melody exhaled a cloud of smoke through her nose. "You guys got anything yourselves?" She asks, flicking excess ash off her cigarette.

"We might." Javier butts in into the conversation. "We were eavesdropping a bit, and we might have a good score on a coach near Rhodes. They kept boasting about it, we'll definitely go back to check it out." Javier nods to John who flicks his cigarette off the boat and into the water, and they start walking off. Melody sucks in her left cheek, biting it; she's alone with Micah.

She looks over at him, hands in his pockets and staring at the ground. "Finish the rest." She walks over, handing him the cigarette which he gladly takes—having forgotten some himself. They stand around next to each other—with a hefty amount of space and in silence as Micah finishes the rest of their cigarette. The silences between them seem to get more and more normal as they happen now, because she was quite enjoying it.

"I'm done." He tosses the used cigarette butt into the water.

She looked over at him. "I'm not sure what now. We do have around twenty minutes left and we have to wait on John and Javier." She pursed her lips slightly at the ground.

He gave her that same stare through his usual, half-lidded eyes. "Another drink?" He coughed slightly aside, extending his arm for her. She takes it slowly, both of them still slightly awkward around one another, but it seems to be getting better, somehow.

"I guess three aren't enough for us?" She chuckled faintly, earning another low laugh out of him. Maybe she's wrong; three seems to be doing his personality wonders.

He walked her to the bar, holding his hand out with the other in his pocket. Melody sat down, angling her body to him this time. The bartender shot them a look, and Melody nodded, implying they want a refill of what they've been having.

She fidgeted with her gloved hand, pulling on the space in the glove on her index finger. She didn't know what to say to him; they seemed to hate each other, and the fact that it managed to actually falter during this outing was.. odd. Still—this doesn't mean anything.

"You.. had fun?" He asked suddenly, avoiding her gaze by looking out for the bartender.

She bit the inside of her cheek again before speaking. "Was alright." She responded simply. She wasn't a fan of small talk in general, and it felt even more tense and forced with him. She did enjoy robbing folk with him, but she wasn't ready to admit it to herself, let alone him; they didn't like each other, and a little conning wouldn't fix that.

He hummed lowly, taking his glass which the bartender slid over, along with Melody's. They drank silently for the rest of the time spent at the bar.

Melody traced the rim of the glass with her finger, watching the liquor sway in the glass slowly, mixing with the melting water from the ice cubes inside. A few silent minutes more, John and Javier spotted them and walked over.

"We were right." John said, standing next to Melody with his hand on the bar, hand behind her back.

"Is it any good? Worth it, guarded?" Melody asked, downing her drink and being so ready to finally leave.

Micah follows with his as well, sliding the empty glasses to the bartender with a few coins. He got up, walking next to Melody without her holding on anymore.

They shared another smoke out on the dock, waiting for Trelawny's arrival with the coach, talking about John and Javier's score with the coach. It took him a bit, but it ended up arriving just as they were finishing up, and they sat in the same arrangement as before.

The ride back was just as excruciatingly long and painful as the first time, albeit there were things to talk about since Trelawny seemed quite invested in what it was like.

It was nearing 2 AM when they arrived back into camp, bidding Trelawny farewell and all scattering to their tents for the night. Melody followed as well, finding herself loosening the corset's stings as soon as the flaps of her tent closed, finally exhaling. She was sure her organs turned to mush, but it was worth it. She changed as quick as possible and dropped to her cot, immediately letting her exhaustion overtake her body.

Kudos on AO3 appreciated!! im so sorry about not posting for a while, November is all about exams in Germany and they've been more important to me </3 I'll start posting more of this fic soon, no worries🤍

[urhoneycombwitch]

i keep listening to FOB's so much (for) stardust and it makes me think about rockstar!Eddie x singer!reader who come up into fame around the same time and have a great relationship until it all comes crashing down (Eddie picking fame over her kind of thing) and reader releases an album that kind of goes through the feelings she had over the year they were together and how the world made her feel, the ups and downs and it's emotional and angry and very silver springs Stevie Nicks and the Grammy's roll around and she's performing and someone at Eddie's table is like "Well damn, I wouldn't want to be the guy that wronged her" and Eddie's like 😬

oh to sing a Silver Springs-esque song dedicated to the one who has hurt you so <3333 and accepting your Grammy with a cheeky "here's to the next heartbreak!" speech and a big wink to camera. and Eddie's fidgeting with his tie that his stylist forced him into bc he's feeling so hot under the collar and the dirty looks that he's getting from the tables around really aren't helping. very aware that there's also a camera on him trying to catch any slip up so he's just sitttin' like 😐

and maybe he goes outside for a smoke later to get away from it all, but runs into you, leaned up against the cold cement wall, your custom-made Versace dress lookin' like you were poured into. he can't help but stare as you blow a cloud of smoke his way in mild greeting. and god it's grinding his gears more than it should that you're so casual about seeing him again bc it's kinda eating him alive!!! (which u know and take full advantage of!!)

he manages to congratulate you, lighting up a cig himself, and you're gracious and shrug lightly saying "thanks for the help. wouldn'ta had it in me to write those lyrics if you hadn't broken my heart." and then you're sliding past him back into the warmth of the afterparty and he's left with a chilly wind biting into his slacks and the smell of ur perfume hanging in the air :'))))))))

[bananafire11]

Summary: A small look into the night after the chupacabra episode with Carol taking care of a very out-of-it Daryl.

Warnings: Daryls loopy on pain meds, reference to past child abuse, Daryls scars and mention of injury

Pairings: Caryl, can be seen as either romantic or platonic.

Care

"You've done more for my little girl than her own daddy ever did his entire life."

"..didn't do nothin' Rick or Shane wouldn'ta done."

"I know. You're every bit as good at them. Every bit."

That's what she'd told him before she had left him to himself.

Carol had been horrified by the sight of Daryl all mucked up with blood and dirt, caked head to toe in mud and dry leaves. Blood covering his chin and temple, crusted under his fingernails and fresh bruises forming across his pale skin like black ink across paper.

Even once Hershal had stitched the worst of his injuries and cleaned the majority of the filth off Daryl he still looked like a masterpiece of black and blue. Carol had caught a glimpse of scars, old and new, that covered his back and chest as she'd entered his current room with his food. He had clenched the pale blanket to his chest but she still saw.

It pained her to see him like that because he had gone looking for Sophia. And had still brought her little girl's doll back even amidst the shitshow he must have endured. One step closer to finding her baby.

"Hey," Carol jumped, cocking her head to see Maggie peeking around the corner of the kitchen entrance. The young woman waved her hand. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Carol sighed, snapped out of her spiraling thoughts. "No, it's ok. Do you need something?" Carol stood up straighter where she'd slumped against the kitchen counter.

Maggie gave her a small smile. "I was goin' to tell you that Daddy sent me to ask if you could freshen Daryl's bandages? He would do it but he's busy with the generator outside. It's been a real pain lately." She fiddled with her tank top's strap.

Carol hummed, "of course. I'll get to it right away."

Maggie nodded, brown locks bobbing with the movement. Carol listened as she exited the house, the old screen door squeaking as she did so.

Carol acquired the medical kit from the kitchen pantry and quietly padded her way up stairs to where Daryl resided for the time being. She reached the old tawny door and knocked twice before entering. The lights were dimmed except for the soft warm glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Carol saw the plate she'd brought him for dinner last night except now it was completely cleaned, the exception being a few spare crumbs.

She hummed, glad that he had taken her advice and eaten. It seemed she were right to assume he'd been starving. Speaking of the man himself, he was passed out in the white sheets, drooling into the pillow. She smiled, he deserved the rest.

But she'd have to wake him in order to tend to his bandages. She'd rather do anything but that, but the wounds he had could easily become infected without proper treatment.

Carol stepped closer to the bed, settling herself on the edge, the mattress dipping slightly under her small body. She gently pressed her palm into his bare shoulder, jostling him just enough for him to wake and not to disturb the stitches on his side.

Daryl groaned into the pillow, shrugging her hand off his shoulder, mumbling something she couldn't quite decipher. She snorted at his stubbornness. Carol leaned forward just enough to be able to call his name, hopefully without startling him.

"Daryl, hey, wake up," she coaxed. Soon enough he scrunched up his nose and his eyes opened to peer over his shoulder at her. His stormy blue eyes were foggy and he made a face at her. "Hey, sleepyhead."

Daryl stared at her for a few moments more before blinking at her like she wasn't real. "Wha'..," his voice was thick with sleep. Carol watched as he furrowed his brows and shut his eyes and she wondered if he had a headache. She figured a bullet to the temple would do that to you.

The bandage wrapped around his head had turned a muted red where he'd been shot. She couldn't see the other bandages but they probably aren't looking too great either.

Carol prodded at his arm, rousing him again and she vaguely remembered Hershal giving Daryl some painkillers. That must be why he was so loopy and out of it. Daryl grumbled and swatted lazily at her hand, trying to brush her off. Carol huffed, he was stubborn as ever.

She needed him to sit up in order to reach all the dirty wraps. She rested her hand on his shoulder blade, ushering him gently to lean forward. Eventually she had gotten him to settle on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off.

Carol gathered the medical supplies and reached for the bandage around his temple first, gently peeling it off. She couldn't help but grimace at the way the skin had been torn, even cutting through his hairline. Applying some gauze onto a rag, she covered the fresh stitches before getting a new clean bandage to wrap his head.

She glanced worriedly at Daryl's face, trying her damndest not to cause him anymore pain then necessary. His eyes were still glossed over when she finished moving his hair out of the way and securing the wraps.

"How are you feeling?" She prompted, almost smiling at the way he blinked dumbly up at her. He licked his lips before humming in response.

"Like shit," he slurred. Carol couldn't help but but smirk at his thick southern drawl, even more pronounced than usual with the drugs faltering his speech.

"I figured as much," she gestured at the large bandage around his waist. "Can I?"

Daryl turned his head to look at where she was looking, like he couldn't register in his head fast enough to keep up with her. He probably couldn't. Both his hands came up to cover his torso best he could. Carol frowned, "What is it?"

The man's brows tightened into a scowl and his bottom lip jutted out. Carol couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Daryl Dixon was pouting.

Despite the hilarious and admittedly adorable image, Carol knew why he was covering himself. After all, she had seen all the scars littering his body the night before. His shoulders were hunched and he suddenly reminded her of a stray dog, distrusting and wounded.

She slid forward, just close enough so he could move away if he wished. Carol tilted her head towards him, forcing him to make eye contact with her. She held her hand out and touched his bicep, warm to the touch.

"Daryl, let me help you. Please."

His blue eyes widened at the sincerity in her voice. The man peered at the hand holding onto his arm, gentle but firm. Grounding.

Carol held his blue gaze even as he dropped his hands to his lap, fiddling with the hem of his pajama pants. She smiled softly at him, her heart swelling with the fact that he trusted her enough to let her see his scarred skin.

She slowly reached for the material around his waist. Delicately removing it and setting it aside to throw in the bin later. She stood and moved to his left side so she could see the stitching up close so as to not disturb anything and have them tear open. With small precise movements she repeated what she had done with his head. She admired the small freckles that were sprinkled across his skin and the warmth of his thigh against hers while she worked.

She couldn't help but grimace at the impale wound. She lightly circled her gauze-covered fingers around it, careful of the tenderness of the flesh there. She let her nails rub along the small scars that were scattered along the soft skin of his belly. She recognized knife slices and cigarette burns and her heart ached inside her ribs.

She wouldn't dare ask him about them.

Finally the job was done and he was wrapped in clean bandages. Carol humphed with triumph at her accomplishment. Daryl cocked his head at her, tongue just about lolling out of his mouth.

"All done," she announced. He hummed in response, clearly not up to speed with what was going on around him. Carol smiled fondly at him. She stood up and stretched her legs which had gone stiff with time. She leaned around his frame, gathering the off white blanket into her arms. "Let's get you tucked in now."

Daryl huffed at her, "M' ain't a baby." He glared at her through his dark lashes and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Of course not," she carefully ushered him to lay down on his right side, "but you need to rest after all you've done for my baby."

She fluffed up his pillow and pulled the blanket up to his chest. "Still treat'n me like a kid," he grumbled. "Tuck'n me 'n an' shit."

"Well, everyone deserves a little care every now and then. Even tough guys like you," she replied. She thought he was more than tough though. Clever, brave, sweet, even.

He only hummed in response, falling into unconsciousness as soon as he closed his eyes. She congratulated a job well done as he fell victim to sleep he very much needed. Carol leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, small stubble rough against her chapped lips.

He certainly deserved more than a little care.

[oceansprompts]

Daredevil: Cutting Edge Quote Starters 2

quotes taken from the Marvel novel, Daredevil: The Cutting Edge (1999) by Madeleine E. Robins // adjust pronouns and lines as needed.

I'm just a business woman, I don't need the trouble...

I don't want to cause trouble. Maybe you could ask your patrons to cooperate?

Why do the bad guys go to the same bar?

Anyone got anything they want to share with the class?

Are you just a discipline problem in the making, or do you have something useful to contribute?

Naughty, naughty.

Look, I'm not in here looking for you, so why don't you just stop being an idiot.

Keep those ears to the ground.

You never know when Imight take it into my head to come back again.

No breakage, this time. They're learning.

No one knows anything! Least of all me!

That, I'll never believe. You always have the latest word.

A little judicious flattery can work wonders.

He's got no gig, he's a flipping wild card.

You're all flipping wild cards. That's partof your charm.

You'd think you and your playmates would be all over yourselves trying to help.

I don't like lawyers!

He gets like you out of jail after guys like me have put them away.

Call any hour of the day or night.

Don't throw the card away, I'll know.

Bad move, bringing this into my neighborhood.

You don't get to hurt one of my people and walk away.

Wherever you are, whoever you are, this ends.

It's hard to tell over the phone.

Don't worry, I have a lot of practice finding chairs.

Your face, are you okay?

This? I walked into a door. Nothing to worry about.

Okay, hero, play brave, competent, [disabled] person.

What's going on here? Keep your mind on the problms at hand.

That would be none of his business, now, wouldn't it?

I suppose the supply of peetty criminals has to come from somewhere.

If I get distracted by this now, it won't help anyone.

The smell is killing us, I can imagine what it's doing to you.

Nah, just stands to reason. Besides, you told me so yesterday.

The paint fumes are eating my brain cells. D'you think I have case if I sue?

Geez, most big-money people think that, but they won't say it out loud ⸺

It's hardly likely she'd be an humanitarian.

That guy is a piece of work, you're going to love this!

Oh, I already do, but make me love him more.

He sounds like the kind of guy who pulled the wings off butterflies and tortured puppy dogs.

Basically, your overprivileged sociopath.

I wasn't always the polished gem you see now.

He has the business ethics of a piranha.

Judiciously applied, the business ethics of a piranha can be very useful.

Time to use my power for good.

Make it good, boyo.

Hey, we're working on it.

In other words, hurry up and forget it!

Yer just jealous 'cause the department didn't issue you any tights!

Look, you cannot say or think anything nastier about those S.O.B.s than I have myself but that's not constuctive.

If you like it hot, but I gotta say, man, you oughtta use a little caution.

Could'a been a flippin' army on your tail, man, and you'd'a never known it 'til it was too late.

I'm touched by your concern, but I promise you I'm well armed.

It wouldn'ta done you any good for me to get taken in for questioning.

Nah. Onee of those Irish names. Shee-vahn.

It's frightening to have a madman on the loose.

Well, the only thing to do wwith a bully and a coward is face him straight on!

Now it's time for bed, close your weary eyes and dream of me.

You get to do this every night?

You're a darling, but I'm too tired to argue about it.

In five minutes, I'll be laughing at myself for an hysterical fool, and brushing my teeth and falling into bed.

In this weather? He must be so hot!

This is where I'm going to die.

I have to remember every detail. If I live, I'll tell someone his eyes are blue. If I live.

You have great bone structure.

My job isn't to punish, but, where the hell is he?

Well, look. The neighborhood avenger. Come on, you wanna play?

Can't aim for flesh, connect with the knife, disarm him. Then you can take him out.

Isn't as much fun when you're picking on someone your own size, is it?

Spread the word, sweetheart.

I couldn't... fight him...

You stayed alive, you did the right thing.

Bullies... never give in to... bullies.

You didn't give in, you were very brave.

You did good, remember that.

Oh my, really bad night.

I don't deserve you.

You roll in here looking like someone shot your dog, so I figure I can be self-absorbed and ill-tempered some other morning.

Oh, my god. Oh, god, how badly was she hurt?

It's my fault, I knew it was a mistake, oh my god.

My god, it must have been like waving a red flag at him.

Listen, sweetheart, whatever you did, it's not your fault.

If anyone's to blame, it' me.

She's one of the most arrogant, self-serving, insincere women I've ever met.

Physically, she made me feel like running in circles and baaying at the moon.

Mentally, I wanted to pitch her out the window.

That was the effect she had on me, physically.

Maybe that blow to the head I took the other night?

I've got tickets for Turandot tonight at the Met. Will you be my guest?

Voice-mail. Curse or blessing?

I find I'm old-fashioned enough to prefer talking to a live humaan being.

Old-fashioned is the last word I would apply to you.

Well, maybe old-fashioned in the right ways.

I can't tell you how much I look forward to evening. Seven o'clock.

Hey, counselor. Time to get up. You have places to go and things to do, yes?

Lies. All lies.

I don't think they're ever leaving. I think they like it here.

It's air conditioned, the coffee's free, they get to point and laugh at the poor people trying to work.

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 31

Third POV

Eboni stands near her bed, only dressed in Jeff's white hoodie. The killer, on the other hand, remains shirtless and in a pair of black skinny jeans. He's sitting on the edge of her bed pissed out of his mind. Not only did his girl knee him, but her shitty friends are a bunch of cockblockers.

Jeff bounces his leg, trying his best to cool down for Eboni's sake. Wait- scratch that, the teen will be getting a huge punishment once he's given a chance. Currently, everyone is staring at one another, Jeff's eyes mostly train on how good Eboni looks in his hoodie. He'd make sure to have her wear it more often.

"So let me get this shit straight- ya' two just been fuckin' each other for fun? So like yall a thing now or?" Taylor questions, her lip quirk upward in disgust.

The two never spoke about dating. That isn't their thing. They don't need it to be their thing. Eboni knows how Jeff is and how he struggles to voice his emotions. Though she wouldn't mind them placing a label on what they have, but she respects Jeff enough to not bring the topic up in conversation anymore.

"No. We're just fuck buddies. Nothing more, nothing less." She shrugs, placing her hands on her hips.

Jeff looks up at her, tilting his head. He doesn't like the way his heart clenches at her words. Sure, that's what they are - that's what he wants them to remain. But hearing it out loud, from Eboni, pisses him off - but he chooses to stay quiet, watching how all of this will play out.

"Tch, be right back." He said, walking to Eboni's bathroom and begins washing his hands and splashing cold water on his face in jopes to calm his raging nerves.

"Mk...we'll get back ta' that topic lata'. You gotta loooota' shit to explain, though! Going MIA on us while news keeps breakin' on Red Rida' gangs bein' killed left and righ'!"

The teen shrugs, moving to her dresser, and grabs a rubberband to tie her afro into a puff. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Like hell ya' do!" Taylor argues, storming over and pushing her slightly. "Any idea the shit I keep gettin'!?"

The force of the push makes Eboni stubble a bit but isn't enough to knock her over. Eboni side eyes Taylor, going back to paying attention to her hair. "And? Your shit has nothing to do with me."

Taylor scoffs and pushes her again. "We agreed ta' not start shit with 'em! Ya' said ya' wouldn'ta! Fuckin' lie'a!"

"Taylor, stop! Look at her ankle. She's hurt! S-Something bad clearly happened. L-Look around her room..." Iris said, trying to calm her friend down from her aggressive state.

"Well, gonna tell us wha' happened or keep more secrets, huh?!" Taylor moves to push Eboni again, but Jeff moves to grab her wrist, gripping it tightly.

Somethings bothering the killer since he first laid eyes on Taylor. Something about her puts him on edge, which isn't a normal occurrence. He isn't a fan of this girl being anywhere near Eboni. Jeff glares down at her. Her five foot seven height, almost matching, his six foot height.

Taylor doesn't back down. Instead, she grips his wrist. "Oh? Am I 'posed ta' be scared of this joka' wanna be bitch?"

His grip tightens, the killer seconds away from snapping her wrist. Taylor admits that this guy is far stronger than her - even stronger than Masky. The crazed look in his eyes has her regret her actions. Maybe that masked male was right. Jeff isn't one to mess with.

"Fuck...fuck if you weren't her 'friend' I would've killed you already. No one touches what's mine." He growls.

Eboni quickly wraps her arms around Jeff, hoping its enough to calm him down - but it isn't. A force knocks Jeff away from Taylor and Eboni - his body pinned to the wall. His eyes widen, confused as to how this happened when nothing touched him? He knows Eboni doesn't have the strength to keep him in place - but a woman among them does.

There stands Luna, her blue hair and eyes glowing brightly as her hands are covered in a light blue hue. It doesn't take long for Jeff to put the pieces together. He smiles, beginning to laugh loudly.

"Well, I'll be damned! You're the witch that has Toby wrapped around your finger, aren't you!? The most powerful bitch working under Zalgo! Maaaaan slenderman hates you!" He cackles.

Eboni looks between the two, glaring at Taylor. "Accuse me of being a liar when you three are the ones keeping the most secrets. Fucking  Hippocrate." She frowns, turning to Luna. "Drop Him. Now." The teen warns, not caring what she'll do if Luna doesn't listen.

Luna sighs, releasing Jeff aa falls onto the ground, still cracking up in a fit of laughter. Eboni moves to his side, waiting for him to calm down. In the meantime, she eyes Luna and Iris. "So....you two aren't human?"

Iris doesn't answer, lowering her head in shame. "Iris is. I'm not. I've been a part of Zalgo since I was born."

"You have to be lying about your age, too. You look...way older. You two also look nothing alike." Eboni bluntly states.

Luna looks at Iris before nodding her head. "We're half sisters. Different mothers, same father. I'm twenty-five. I've been training under Zalgo ever since I was seven in order to keep Iris away from him."

"Then how did you meet Toby?" She questions, both her and Jeff moving to sit back down on her bed.

"About a year or two ago, Slenderman sent him to kill me. Toby was the strongest at the time, but he was no match for me. One year later, Masky and Hoodie joined in - they still failed."

Jeff looks at Iris and Taylor, still laughing. "H-Holy shit! So these are bitches they've been fucking!? So who's with who?"

Iris blushes heavily, playing with her fingers shyly. "H-Hoodie..." which means Taylor is stuck with Masky.

"Enough 'bout us. It's yo turn ta' talk Eboni." Taylor frowns, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jeff's mood quickly shifts at the sound of Taylor's voice. He finds it so damn annoying. Her pussy has to be good to make Masky still deal with someone like that. "She doesn't have to answer to anyone but me." He corrects her.

"The fuck? Who fuckin' made you owner of ha'?" Taylor challenges. "Who's ta' say you ain't do that shit ta' ha' ankle!?"

"He didn't." Both Luna and Eboni said for different reasons.

"She still has ta' answer my questions! Like those deaths in my gang!" Taylor exclaims in frustration.

"You...and your annoying country accent. I see why Masky said what he said. Fuck you're a authoritive, bossy bitch who thinks she can tell anyone whatever the fuck she wants people do to. Well not me! And I won't let you do the same shit to what's mine." He warns. "You might've thrown yourself at anything that walks to get what you want, but that gross shit ain't gonna work on me." He warns, seeing right through the blonde teen.

"Why ya' son of a-!"

Eboni quickly raises her hand. "Oh my gosh, stop the bullshit bickering - it's giving me a headache. Look Taylor, friday night I was jumped by three chicks that work under slenderman. It was mostly his crazy fangirl's idea - but none of that matters. I kicked their asses." She grins.

"Mhm...mk, but that doesn't -"

"I've been killing those irritating bitches, pure slenderman request." Jeff shrugs, tempted to pull Eboni onto his lap - he decides to do that rather quickly.

"Fuckin' hell! Why!?"

"Hell, if I know. I'm just the killer." He smirks, enjoying the way Taylor's face scrunched up in frustration.

However, he doesn't favor that disgust and judgmental look in her eyes that are looking at his girl. So subconsciously, he wraps his arms tighter around her, glaring daggers at Taylor. The smiling killer can't bring himself to trust her in the slightest.

"Now that we cleared the -"

"Why him? Outta all the psychos ta' let dick ya' down - why him?" Taylor questions, remembering Masky's clear warning if she were to ever encounter him. Simply advice- run, do not fight no matter what. You wouldn't win.

Jeff almost lashes out again until Eboni begins laughing loudly, leaning back onto Jeff. She moves to wrap her arms around his shoulders, pressing light kisses to his neck - which he deeply enjoys.

"Why not?"

It's in this moment that the smiling killer desperately wants to rip his hoodie clothing her body and fuck her like a wild animal. He grins wickedly, tilting his head so Eboni has more access to adore his throat like she should.

"Why not pick a man that makes you feel sooo good?" The teen laughs, almost moaning at the thoughts of all the things he's done to her. "No one has ever made me feel so good, so wanted."

"That cause ya' haven't had a taste of anyone else." Taylor says harshly.

Eboni moves to straddle Jeff's lap, his hands firmly on her ass. The teen turns her head, glaring sharply at Taylor - her comment upsetting her. "I don't want to. All I want... all I need is Jeff. No one else...can compare.." she remarks, her lips lightly brushing against his.

The three can feel the sexual tension built in the room the more those two stare at each other. Taylor clears her throat, catching their attention. The blonde has one more question to ask.

"There's a holloween party. Some guy I know is throwin' this weekend. Iris ain't goin' since a certain killer ain't gonna let ha'. Maybe yours isn't ta' uptight." Taylor grins, making Jeff glare.

Eboni isn't a social butterfly. She hates crowded places and always prefers to be at home. But she has friends now - people to actually go places with. She looks at the killer, feeding him her pleading honey brown eyes. Once again, how can he say no to those eyes?

Yet he's struggling to say yes. Something about this doesn't sit well with him. His gut is screaming at him to tell her no, but she looks so eager to go - to give it a try, to maybe be a normal high school teenager for once. So with a drawn-out sigh, Jeff nods his head with earns a squeal and hug from her.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Eboni cheers happily.

Jeff grumbles, grabbing the back of her head - whispering in her ear, "you better fucking behave yourself. I mean that shit - do you understand me?"

"Yes... yes, Daddy, I do.." she whispers, squirming on his lap.

"Good girl." He hums, pulling back to lock his lips with hers.

The kiss is long, loud, tongue tied, and drawn out - all on purpose. Though Eboni's eyes are close enjoying this moment, Jeff's are wide open- staring daggers at the three girls, mostly Taylor. This is him claiming his territory, showing them - reminding them that they are nothing but gum under his boots.

This girl is his. Eboni belongs to him. And no one will get in between that, not even her friends. No force on this earth can keep him away from her. The smiling killer is here to stay. whether they support it or not. Matter of fact, their opinions don't matter - only Eboni's, when he ask for her input on something. The girl is right where she belongs, caged in between his arms, and sat right on his lap.

The three watch on, trying to hold his unnerving star- but Iris and Luna back down. Taylor, however, doesn't. She gladly takes on the challenge this smiling killer is placing. She knows Jeff isn't good for Eboni. They all do. He'll eventually destory her, making her lose sight of her very self. So Taylor will definitely become the force that attempts to keep the two apart.

Jeff groans, breaking the kiss - a line of spit stretching from their lips as he pulls away. He grins at the blissful look in Eboni's eyes. "Gotta go, princess."

"So soon?" She whines, moving her hips against his obvious bulge.

He grunts, gripping her hips tightly. The killer is so close to losing his composer and fucking her right in front of her friends. "Shit...the things you do to me." He whispers. "You got school tomorrow. I'll be back before that party. We'll have our fun before you go."

Eboni huffs, pouting but nods her head. Jeff lifts the girl off his lap as he stands. He leans down to give her another quick kiss. "Keep the hoodie. I got plenty."

"Yes daddy.."

He smiles, sparing another glare at her friends as he walks to her window - opening it. "I'll text you, princess." He winks before jumping out of the window, leaving a giddy Eboni and three stunned females - still processing that shameless display of PDA.

[pacifymebby]

born to die // chapter five

I couldn't hide the embarrassment from my face then, my smile shy and yet wide, a toothy grin taking me by surprise because his words had been so sweet and yet so dramatic. So over the top that I was certain he was teasing me.

I knew I needed to say something in return, needed to tease him back but I couldn't. My cheeks were burning and I felt too caught out to do anything but hide behind my paper cup, sipping my cuppa hesitantly, letting the steam warm my pink tinged nose.

"You divn't believe me do you?" He asked, he was smiling too and though there still remained that boyish charm there was something shy about him too, something humble. "I mean it Meadow," he said, my name on his lips taking me by surprise. My eyes wide, fawn like as I blinked back at him. It sounded nice in his voice and I knew then that I wanted to hear him say it over and over again.

"I don't know," I said softly, as I looked at him I was reminded of all the trouble we'd left behind in the city, reminded of the trouble I'd have to go back to soon. He didn't look like trouble though, he seemed sweet, he looked lovely. Even when he'd been washed out and messed up by the storm, even when he looked shattered.

"A promise you love," he started, his eyes glowing honest, imploring me to believe him, "a didn't know they'd be there, a wouldn'ta been there meself if I'd known... Am not that daft..."

"No," I bit my bottom lip, tapped my fingers against the side of my cup and looked up at him, "that would have been pretty stupid."

"Aye and am not stupid like, am actually pretty smart for a..."

"Gangster?" I raised my brows, smirking back at him quite pleased with myself for having finally been able to tease him the way he'd been me all night.

And my question had taken him by surprise, his brows raising in shock, his sentence stifled as for a second I held him speechless.

"A was gan say for a lad," he cracked a crooked caught out grin, turning his head to the side, looking across the room instead of at me, "an just between me an you like," he said a little quieter, his eyes serious when he locked with mine, "am not like me brothers," he said, "that shit ain't me."

And though I wanted to shake my head and tell him I'd heard the same from men just like him a hundred times before, there was something about Sam that was impossible to dismiss. Something about that honest flicker in his eyes. The same comfort which had lured me into trusting him so many times already. It was that which told me I could trust him then, told me to believe him when he told me he wanted to go straight.

"Yeah?" I asked feeling a little sorry for him because I knew better than most that that was impossible once you were 'part of the family'. And Sam was in deeper than me because it was his father who ran things on his side of town. He was bonded with that family by blood. And blood is so much harder to wash out.

"Aye," he nodded, "gannin straight and gettin out of this shithole just as soon as I can," he said with a simmering sullen smile which only brightened when he saw his friend finally returned from upstairs.

"Cheers for this Dru mate," he grinned standing up quickly, reaching to take the towels and two sets of clean clothes from his friend.

"Am sorry a divnt have anythin for y'lassie to wear..." he started showing me that his only offerings were from his own wardrobe,  pyjama trousers and sweaters which would be far too big for me. Still, they were clean and they were dry and in them I'd be so much warmer than I was sitting in my ruined blue velvet gown.

"Thank you," I said taking his offering from Sam gratefully, holding the dry towels and clothes in my lap, looking up at his friend with a grateful smile, "really," I said wondering if he knew who I was, if he knew who he was sheltering, "thank you so much."

If he did he didn't say a word to me, just nodded and offered me a warm smile, turned to Sam and reminded him that we could go round the back to change instead of using the toilet which was, according to Dru, the most abominable toilet in the north.

"Are yous wantin stay the neet like?" He asked as he looked between our washed out expressions and settled on Sam who wiced, glanced at me over the table.

"If am not back they'll..." I started panicking at the though of what Van would do if they didn't find me. Just how much worse things could be.

"If you're not gan be safe Meadow..." Dru trailed off, his voice low despite the fact that we were the only three in that little cafe. So he did know who I was. Did know the weight on my shoulders. 

"I'll only have to go back tomorrow anyway..." I chewed my cheek, feeling all kinds of apprehensive because in truth, if this little cafe really was a safety haven where there didn't pick sides and I could stay hidden, then I didn't want to leave. Not now or in the morning. I didn't want to go home and find my uncle Johnny waiting for me. I didn't want to go back to the Angel where Van would be waiting to accuse me of some great betrayal.

"Stay Meadow," said Sam, "just for the neet, I'll get you a taxi in the morning, things will have cooled down by then..."

And it only really took one glance at the storm through the window to convince me.

And I could tell they were both relieved when I nodded my head, nervous smile on my lips as I looked to Dru and said thank you again.

"Nee bother lass," he said but I knew that it was. Even if they didn't pick sides here, sheltering a girl like me was dangerous business. Sheltering a lad like Sam was even worse.

When Dru returned to his place behind the counter I sat quietly watching Sam pick at his chips. He must have been hungry because he ate quickly, didn't even seem to stop for breath and yet that didn't stop him leaving some for me. Every now and then he'd push the little poly box across the table to me and nod for me to try one.

"Try some darlin, you'll feel better with some food in you..." he said taking a chip and breaking it in half, blowing the heat out of it before offering me one of the halves with a smirk. "An it won't even burn your tongue cause ac checked it like," he grinned, that teasing light returned to his eyes so that I couldn't refuse him. Couldn't do anything except smile, try my best not to giggle like a little girl, and take the chip from between his fingers, popping it into my mouth.

And he was right about that too. I did feel better. The second the salt hit my tongue I felt a little revived. Nothing quite like the comfort of fresh chips to settle a sour mood.

"There y'go," beamed Sam, "look better already."

"Dunna be daft..." I smiled shyly hugging my knees to my chest to hide as I rested my head atop them.

"I don't know eh," he grinned, "you lassies are always the same, never want your own food but the second y'can pinch it off a lad..."

"Give over," I grinned then unable to hold back my laugh, "y'practically forced these on me!"

"Aye but you're not complaining are you?"

"No," I said softly, eyes locking with his from beneath my lashes. My voice lowering as the mood shifted again. Softened. Something warm and intense resonating between us which I couldn't ignore.

"Do you really mean that 'bout gannin straight?" I asked, not sure why I was asking. Not sure why it mattered to me.

I think now that I was probably just young and naive, desperate to believe that it was possible. To go straight when you'd been crooked your whole life. I was probably trying to find a little hope in that lad I'd heard so much about but didn't know. Because perhaps if he could get out then maybe I could too.

Of course in the end it never works out the way you hope.

"Aye," he said nodding, "I mean it, am not like me brothers lass, never was an never will be..." But I didn't need convincing of that.

His brothers wouldn't have saved my life as he had done. His brothers would have been the ones drawing blood for bloods sake. I shuddered at the thought of that, of becoming a message, nothing but blood on someones hands and 'guilt' on Van's conscience. And of course I couldn't be sure he'd feel guilty. Couldn't be sure it wouldn't be him with the blood on his hands once he found me. 

"What were they fightin over?" I asked but Sam just shrugged and shook his head. 

"Gear, territory, a club... who fuckin knows eh, my lot hate your lot an thats the way its always been, divnt really need a reason beyond that to start doin each other in like..." 

And I knew he was right. That there didn't need to be a reason beyond what he'd said. 

My lot hated his lot and if you ever asked why you'd get a different answer every time, that many reasons they had for loathing the other side. Mostly though it was about money. 

"No one likes competition I guess," I shrugged watching as he snapped another chip in half, blew on it and handed it to me. I took it with a small smile, holding back a laugh because I didn't want to be rude. Still he saw it in my eyes and when he questioned me I couldn't lie. 

"You don't have to blow me food for me, am a big girl, I can look after meself..." 

"Well apparently not like." He grinned nodding to my swollen ankle which was bruised and sore looking. "Trust me lass this," he nodded to the half a chip he was still holding, "is the gentlemanly thing to do this is lass, canna have anymore injuries on my watch like..." 

"Right.." I smirked biting down on my smile as I took the second half of the chip from him and popped it in my mouth. Growing shy when I realised that he was watching me, covering my smile with my hand to hide my open mouth when I laughed. 

"What?" he grinned chuckling a little uncertainly. 

"Stop starring at me!" I giggled, my cheeks flushing red as he gasped and started laughing too. 

"What's with all these accusations love? Where else am a meant to look when am talkin to you?" he laughed his argument doing nothing to sooth the blush on my cheeks as I tried to hide behind my cup of tea again. 

"I don't... I don't know..."

We trailed off then, drifted into silence as he carried on taking a chip for himself and then breaking one in half for me. Determined apparently to keep up his supposedly gentlemanly act. And I let him.

If Johnny or Van had seen me then they wouldn't have recognised me. Wouldn't have understood why the lass who always argued back, always insisted she was alright on her own, was letting a lad like Sam treat her like she was just a small thing who couldn't look after herself. Couldn't even be trusted to blow on her own chips.

And if I'd have stopped to think about it perhaps I'd have been just as confused. But I didn't stop to think about it, I just slipped as comfortably as falling asleep, into that sweet, teenage dynamic Sam had lured me into. I was happy there, sitting opposite him, taking half chips from him and popping them obediently into my mouth. Letting his keep up that teasing. Both of us pretending in that warm quiet, that we were just innocent bairns. That no one was out looking for us. That the world wasn't a desperately dangerous place for both of us just then. That there weren't shadows slowly catching up to us.

No. In that late night cafe we were nothing but two teenagers sharing chips, sheltering from the rain. Teasing one another because there was something else going on with us, something unspoken.

"Y'nar there is another reason I come to see you sing..." said Sam, his voice low, a little husky as his eyes flickered over my features once again.

"Yeah?" I asked shy to hear his reply, growing all the more shy by the second because I thought I already knew what he was going to say.

"Aye," he said swallowing a lump in his throat, "I think you're the most beautiful lassie I've ever seen Meadow..." he said it so seriously that for a moment I was left stunned. Just this stupid shy smile on my lips as I looked over my shoulder so that he wouldn't see me blushing. Wouldn't see how truly speechless I was. How his words had thrilled me like they would have done a little girl.

When I didn't say anything, when all that escaped me was a selfconcious little half laugh he echoed it, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

"Sounded reet cheesy that like," he admitted apologetic smirk lingering on his lips. I thought he was going to take it back, when I looked at him from under my lashes, she smile glowing with a blush, I was begging him not to.

"Divn't really know what else to say though like darlin cause it is true like... A think you're lovely..." he trailed off.

Somewhere between laughing at himself and doubling down he'd taken my hand again, turned my palm over, drawing little circles slowly on my skin.

His slow movement was hypnotic and I found myself unable to take my eyes off our linked hands, off his index finger curving delicate but certainly round and round my palm.

"Yeah?" I asked, the tension between us so thick I could barely breath, my voice shakey as I glanced up at him, my eyes flickering over his, too shy to hold his gaze. "A think you're lovely an all."

I knew I shouldn't have been saying it. Knew that if I hadn't betrayed Van and the family already that evening, that admitting my attraction to a Fender was the final nail in my coffin. I could have tried to tell myself it didn't matter, that they were only words we were speaking. That you can say whatever you like as long as your actions are pure.

But when Sam stood up, leant down across the table to cup my cheek in his hand, when his fingers skimmed over my jaw and raised my gaze up to meet his. When his lips met mine in a fleeting brushed kiss. Well that was pure.

And when as he tried to pull away and I reached to bring him back down to my lips once more, I felt the closeness between us set my heart racing, I knew I was doomed. Knew we both were on a long and winding road straight to hell. Because there was no way we could get away with falling in love.

And this didn't feel like anything else.

[spnexploration]

Brotherly Figures part 4

Summary: (Early seasons) Sam and Dean save a 15 year old, newly orphaned teenager from vampires. Much to their chagrin, she ends up tagging along on hunts, giving them both a fresh chance at acting like a brotherly figure.

Series masterlist

Part 3 <- -> Part 5

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Ava (teen!OC), Bobby Singer

Episode summary: Ava gets used to living with Bobby

Episode warnings: None

A/N: I promised an anon ask that I'd get the next part of Brotherly Figures out, so here it finally is!

GIF by frodo-sam

“Did you just get out of Bobby Singer’s car?” a girl asked me incredulously.

“Umm, yes,” I said cautiously.

“How does he even have a licence? Absolute drunkard,” another girl gossiped.

A third girl came over to me, “Just ignore them. They'd find something to complain about if it killed them.” I gratefully followed her into the gym where the self-defence class was about to be held. “I'm Olivia,” she said.

“Ava.”

“Nice to meet you. You new here?”

“Uh, yeah. My brothers are friends with Bobby, I'm staying with him for a bit.”

Before we could talk any further, the Sheriff, Jody Mills, called everyone in to a circle. Bobby had taken me the day before to meet her as she ran the class.

The rest of the class went ok, me avoiding the bitchy girls and hanging with Olivia. She told me their names were Faye and Suzie.

They threw some comments at me when Bobby came to pick me up. My face flushed with embarrassment.

---

Bobby seemed to have taken Sam’s instructions about my schooling regrettably seriously. He gave me a bit of leeway, but he was pretty firm about having to finish my homework.

“Were you this much of a hard taskmaster with the boys?” I complained at him.

“God no. Their Dad couldn't care less what their grades were so long as they could shoot and fight. But Sam was diligent anyway, I wouldn'ta had to be remindin’ him.”

“And Dean?”

“Well, Dean just wanted to be a kid,” he said pensively. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that answer.

I hadn’t noticed when he'd written it up, but part of Sam's curriculum was learning how to kill various monsters too. Unlike my normal school work where Bobby just left me with my laptop, those lessons he taught. Often we were interrupted by his phones ringing, different hunters asking for advice or him having to pretend to be their boss in the FBI.

Sometimes he'd get me researching in his lore books alongside him. I flushed with pride when he praised me for finding the right answer or something that would help someone's case.

The best times were when he took me out to learn how to shoot the various guns. I wasn’t great, but I was getting a tiny bit better. Often he'd reminisce about the many things he'd shot, or the times he'd had with the Winchester boys.

---

It was the same pattern of comments about Bobby from the bitchy girls at the next two self-defence classes too. I thought about asking Bobby to drop me off further away, but I figured they'd just say something else next time instead. I tried to not to let it get to me.

I was picking up my things at the end of my fourth class when I heard one of the other girls in the class, Belinda, turn around to her friends, “Check out the hotties in the carpark!”

I ignored her, finishing packing my things. I walked out to the carpark chatting to Olivia, looking for Bobby's car. Finally, I noticed what all of the other girls were drooling over.

I ran to Sam, having spotted him and Dean leaning against the Impala. He gathered me in a hug. Then I turned to Dean and he hugged me too. “Heya, kiddo,” he said affectionately.

Bitchy Faye was looking dumbfounded while Suzie glared daggers at me. That was almost as good as the Winchesters being back.

---

“Alright, you ready to show us what you've learnt?” Dean asked with a grin.

“I was born ready,” I said cockily.

He chuckled, “Easy, tiger. Alright, guns first?”

I agreed and followed him outside, Bobby and Sam trailing behind us. Sam set up some cans on the fence for me to fire at.

“Let's see what you've got,” Dean said.

My first shot missed, probably as bad as I'd been in the beginning. I was irritated at myself, I was meant to be showing them I was being better!

“Just relax,” Dean said quietly. “Centre yourself first.”

I took his advice, appreciating that he hadn't chosen to tease me. I took a deep breath and had another go. I missed again, but it was close, skittering right past the can.

The men didn't say anything, giving me time to centre myself again. Focus.

I HIT IT!!

Dean whistled and Sam exclaimed, “Good job, Ava!” I couldn’t hide the massive grin on my face.

Dean got me to try out a few other gun types, to varying degrees of success, but he seemed pretty happy with my progress. I flushed with happiness.

We packed up the guns and cans and started walking to the shed. Sam walked next to me. “Bobby sent me your assessments and the marks from your distance ed teacher,” he said.

I groaned.

He laughed. “No, you're doing a good job, Ava. We might need to talk through some of your chemistry a bit more while I'm here, but your essay on equity for Pacific Island Nations under climate change was great.”

“You seriously find time to read my essays while you're killing monsters?”

“Dean likes to drive. I spend a lot of time in the passenger seat.”

We'd made it to the shed, Dean holding the door open. “How do you stop a ghost?” he asked me.

“Salt or iron will stop them temporarily but you need to salt and burn their bones or whatever object they're tied to.”

“Good, let's see how you're going taking down Sammy.”

Sam and I sparred off. I showed the moves I’d learnt from Sheriff Jody’s classes and what Dean had taught me last time. I still couldn't overpower Sam, but I was a lot better at getting out and buying myself valuable seconds.

Dean offered me his hand to stand up, after Sam had flattened me to the ground. “You've done good work, kiddo,” he said. “Wanna come on a ghost case with us?”

I squealed, “Really?!” I jumped to him, wrapping my arms around him. ��Thank you thank you thank you!!”

He laughed and returned the hug. “You are going to have to do what you're told,” he warned.

.

“I know, I know.” I released Dean and went over to hug Sam. “When do we leave?” I asked excitedly.

“Tomorrow morning,” Dean replied. “I've never seen someone so excited about a salt and burn.”

.

.

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

[fuckin-pistol-whipped]

sum y'all need 2 get told by ya ma that ya wouldn'ta been raped if ya been easier 2 love & it shows

[offthrack]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 ; 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⦉ 𝑆𝐸𝑃𝑇. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ⦊  ⸻ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅͟𝐑͟𝐔𝐈𝐓

after quickly disrobing from the 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐆-𝒆sque photoshoot they'd just finished and getting into more comfortable attire, 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄 takes the spacious beige cloud couch and adjusts her posture nervously. her debut interview as ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, without the looming influence of 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐞'𝐬 input—both adrenaline and nerves rattle against her ribcage when she remembers every interview she declined to save face. since returning to the A', she's been striving to disprove the narrative that her stint in miami was in a vain attempt at love.

welcome, spice! glad you could make time to be here with us, i know you're busy promoting your upcoming album. congratulations on going independent as well! how has that changed your work ethic and perspective on the rap game? i'm sure things are different when a label's backing you.

❝ 𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑒𝑒𝑒 .ᐟ always happy to be here. and thank you! it's definitely a long time coming. ❞ [ squared french tips slowly comb through her long amber tresses, quietly sighing as she thought over her next response for a moment. her smile is more nervous than genuine, but the dancing diamonds in her mouth more than made up for it. ] ❝ yes, i'm newly independent. . . but shit ain't really 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆, you know? i was doing 19, 𝟐𝟎 hour days in miami where i'm at the club, then in the studio, then sourcing clothes, glam, hairstylists all on my 𝑜𝑤𝑛 for a photoshoot that would only see IG. . . definitely no stranger to building a brand from the ground up, but now i don't got a hater in my ear tellin' me everything i'm doing is wrong. 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕, i been doing stuff so right, that i got a new, even hotter endorser. so it's all good. ❞

good to know you're feeling good. the race to the debut album dropping is usually one of the most stressful periods for an artist, but you seem to be handling it well. kudos to you! so you didn't feel supported by your label? by rick ross or your ex-boyfriend and producer 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐞. . . did you prolong your stay in miami to save your relationship?

❝ first off, the plan was 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 to come back to atlanta. i got offered a deal at 19. . . by miami 𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑦 at that! i wouldn'ta forgave myself if i ain't go. but my heart stayed here, in 𝐌͟𝐚͟𝐠͟𝐢͟𝐜͟ ͟𝐂͟𝐢͟𝐭͟𝐲͟ . i think the common misconception is i moved over 600 miles away for some 𝑑*𝑐𝑘. i went to miami on a mission, wasn't no time for breaks when i had just gotten the opportunity of a lifetime. bartending was the only thing payin' my bills, for real. the music was a passion project. ❞ [ there's a bit of consideration to give a less-than-authentic answer, but upon remembering the 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐭 wasted on jewelry, cars, and ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 she didn't really feel like hiding her animosity. ] ❝ and you know, 𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒌 was real as hell through it all. he was the one who connected me with 𝐆𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐢 and a bunch of other cool ass people that made my time in the city worthwhile. when shit hit the fan, though. . . yeah. you know, business. i stayed in miami to invest in my 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑟. would'a been packed it back to atlanta had i known i was throwing money into a 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞. ❞

and we're assuming this black hole to be...

❝ it could be 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. ain't that the beauty of it? and it was. . . a 𝐥𝐨𝐭 of things that i felt like were taking way more than they was giving. we're spending bank on features that don't break top 20 and 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔 that i'm still countin' pennies off of. i was goin' to bed late, wakin' up way too early. shit was blending together and in the midst of all of that, i was being lied to about . . . 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. ❞ [ blinking faster she swallows the lump threatening to form in her throat. she doesn't want to be choked up about this—despite being long over her ex-boyfriend, looking back on the deception she felt more dumb than anything. a quiet huff of ice cold air is released before she continues. ] ❝ my manager. . . producer. . . ex-boyfriend or what-have-you, he ain't see the vision. i'm still not quite sure 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 he saw. a naive girl who wanted this shit more than anything. i was hungry, and he knew that. but that's why this album is so important to me. i done been through a buncha bullshit to get where i am, and i'm comin' out on the other side. it's sum to celebrate. ❞

so i'm guessing no tears were shed on the flight back to atlanta. it's great to see you stepping into this new era. what can we expect from the album, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚, right?

❝ yeah, yeah. sugar honey iced tea is obviously an homage to atlanta and honestly the south as a whole. actually, let me start over and say i definitely sobbed on the way to the airport. let me be clear, miami brought me on 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒉𝒐𝒑 where i gave the world a lil taste of 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄. gave me the tools i needed to show off the whole rack and flex my skills, 'cus i wasn't nearly as confident when i went out there. i loved the city, it'll always have a spot in my heart, but i'm a 𝐺𝑒𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑎 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙, tried and true. that's home. plus, it was a couple bitches i needed to link up with to make sure the album is everything and more. the features on it are 𝑓𝑖𝑖𝑖𝑖𝑖𝑟𝑒. but what can you expect? real, raw emotion. i'm layin' all that shit to rest, from the beefs i had wit' bitches that wasn't making it out the club to heartbreak to falling in love 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 and my 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 all over again. i can't wait for y'all to hear it. ❞

[redemptioninchaos]

Small things for Sergio and Sumi

"...I snapped at 'er the moment she started askin' me questions. I ain't had no reason ta trust nobody 'round the time I met 'er, and she had no reason ta put up wit my bullshit. But she jest...kept talkin' ta me like normal. It was like she jest knew I ain't really mean what I said, like she knew that, uh...that I was too afraid ta show how I really felt 'bout 'er. I'm jest glad she felt the same way.

"When I left durin' my first birthday wit 'er, she looked so worried 'bout me. It's been so long since anyone gave a fuck 'bout me like that. I knew she loved me before then, but...if there was any doubt in my mind before, it went away right then."

"And then this time around, she spooned me so that I couldn't even leave the mornin' a' my birthday, or what she thought was my birthday. I mean, she spoon me every night, but she made sure I wouldn't leave. I, uh, I kinda liked not bein' able ta leave right then. I mean, I wouldn'ta left anyway, but...sometimes I like when she makes decisions for me, as corny as that sound."

[whimsical-westbrook]

are you happy with what happened to you?

if you could go back, would you undo it?

@coolsans151

Uh, I'd have to say this is the happiest I've ever been in my life, so yeah!

I don't think I'd undo it for anything... Though okay maybe I'd have seen if I could maybe pick another pokemon? Idunno, Buizel's very good tho. Wouldn'ta minded like. Serperior, tho. Big ol' snek. Sneks is good.