#all time fave I had to have it available

[the-nerdy-fangirl]

AO3: site will be down for 10 hours on the first :(

Me: dw i got this

[my-terrible-life]

I rewatched Gundam Wing the past few days and Boy! I realized I sure did Not comprehend it when I first watched it at 12 years old. It's also interesting to compare who my faves were as a kid and who ended being my faves now.

[killjoy-prince]

Merch and Manga haul from yesterday

[emometalhead]

.

[livelovecucumber]

BRUTALLY HONEST effects of hitting my UGW of 45 kg / 100 lbs

So as I’ve mentioned on my blog, I hit my ugw of 45kg in 2020 and since been in recovery (recently rel4psed) and wanted to list some effects of being underw3ight that I noticed.

1. Food allergies. I got sensitive to several foods and drinks while being underweight. Some of them I can consume again after years of recovery. These include: Extreme sensitivity to caffeine & coffee (feel like i’m sick, still can’t consume it and it used to be my fave). Sensitivity to raw vegetables. Lactose intolerance.

2. Heart problems. I have unexplained heart problems since being underweight. I will get suddenly get an abnormally high bpm (200+) while resting at completely random times. This is scary and extremely painful. It hurts in my entire body, feel like I can’t breathe and my jaw hurts. Can last for 5-45 min and will leave me unable to do anything in that time period. Will leave me tired for 2-3 days. Has been happening less in the last year of recovery. Not anxiety related.

3. Memory loss. I would completely forget my sentence in the middle of it. I would forget the entire day and every small detail. Been experiencing both long term and short term memory loss since being underweight. Still struggling with retaining information.

4. Speech problems. Probably related to memory loss. I spoke extremely slow and struggled with forming sentences, and I still do. I struggle with remembering words and will sometimes take a while to form a coherent sentence.

5. Less picky. Incredibly enough, I have become way less picky since being underweight as starving made me desire ANY food available. This has made me appreciate every small taste. Great for learning to eat less desirable “healthy” foods.

6. Loss of good judgement. When I was underweight I had little to no self reflection in my actions. I had my values and morals but the lines seemed to blur as my ability to think properly depleted and I started acting more unconsciously attention seeking and egocentric, without my knowledge. This was in all aspects of my life. I thought I was in complete control but regained common knowledge as soon as I recovered.

7. Constipation. When at my lowest weight, I was constantly constipated and bloated. Laxatives did not work.

8. People acted differently. People treated me completely differently and started treating me like a child and as if I was stupid. They also gave me more compliments and were nicer to me in general. I noticed other girls felt more awkward around me compared to when I was heavier.

9. Mood swings. No shocker but being underweight made my mood swing a lot. I would cry over nothing and act out incredibly when things didn’t turn out. I also acted more kind and timid towards others in general than I used to. I was more careful with hurting others and more sensitive and empathetic in general.

10. Hair growth. I didn’t really notice my hair growing faster on my body but my hair on my head got a lot longer.

Honorable mentions: Constant unexplained bruising, constant cold feeling, feeling sick almost every day, childish behaviour in general, didn’t feel mature and indulged in very childish hobbies & likes. Dumbed myself down on purpose a lot due to memory loss & speech issues.

[mingi-s-dimples]

splash of desire - wooyoung

pairing: enemy & teammate!wooyoung x fem!reader

rating: 18+ (filth)

genre: enemies to lovers, filthy smut (mdni ty)

summary: your captain makes you share a room with your death enemy, who also happens to be your teammate.

WC: 3.1k

warnings: non idol au, dystopian (strictland), brat dom!wooyoung x even brattier!reader, cocky!wooyoung, cursing, cussing out, threats (once or twice, death threat once and knife once), size kink, shower sex, overstim, orgasm control, ruined orgasm (twice f), oral (m), foreplay (f & m), blowjob, choking (both by dick and by hand), handjob, hair pulling, pet names ( ), making out, deepthroating, slight dacryphilia, one scene with pleading/begging, completely consensual, unprotected (booo use protection irl!!!), death enemies to lovers, completely unedited & might edit later, totally forgot to mention something.

Author's Note: Enemies to lovers... shower sex AND Wooyoung? give me 14 thank you. I wrote this in ONE DAY... like 4 hours or something? I think it took me longer to actually re edit/write the entire fic rather than initially writing it 😭. My utmost fave part was when Wooyoung said he wouldn't back off if he kissed her !?!??! I'm afraid I'm in love with how I wrote this fic keisjs (I always say this). Anyways, enjoy my fic ! 🫶🏻 (also I'm on the rollll I'm still on vacation LMAO I got really bored.. and horny so, once again, enjoyyy) - wrote this together w my bestie, she chose a plot - i only had the smut in mind upsi - tysm Lis for helping me ajisebs love youuu .

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

You were apart of ATEEZ, a well known group of outlaws, rebelled against the Strictland Government. They were some.. entities, which distrupted the initial normal world with all of their activities. Hongjoong, your captain, suddenly decided to part the whole team on small groups, of 2 people, because the latest mission almost failed tragically. He thought that it happened because we were too many in the same place. In the end, he chose Wooyoung to team up with you and.. neither of you were happy about it. In fact, you started bickering with both Hongjoong and Wooyoung, because for some reason Hj thought that you's be better off on a mission with Woo. Little did he know that you'd actually kill him even before the mission started if you had the chance.

You looked at Hj in disbelief.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM ON MISSION WITH WOOYOUNG?"

You let out a heavy sigh, giving a piercing stare to Wooyoung.

"WHY HIM, OUT OF ALL PEOPLE? Captain. Please... please... put me on another team.." you said pleading, almost begging Hongjoong, but to no avail.

"Nope, end of discussion. You are going to do as I said. You both have one hour to prepare and pack things. I already made a reservation for a hotel hot too far from here. We gotta stay united but not in the same place, it's too risky."

"Guess we'll need to tolerate each other, y/n. I won't try to kill you, I promise." Wooyoung said, giving you the death stare with a smirk.

Hongjoong left the room, giving you a stare. He tried so hard not to burst out laughing, knowing you were pissed at him for pairing you with Wooyoung.

And here you were, in your own, nice and little room... but private. In 2 hours you were gonna live with your death enemy, which happened to also be your teammate, in the same hotel room. Ironic, isn't it? How much you hated him, his face, his cocky and bratty attitude. Everything about him made you curse at him on a daily basis. But now, you were gonna be closer to him than ever. You didn't even know what to say about it... you were just.. in disbelief.

*2 hours later*

"Oookay guys. Here is your room, you only have one bed tho, we can't afford a bigger room for now. Please don't fight, don't try to kill each other and please, for fucks sake, don't bomb the place. Enjoy your time" Hongjoong said, letting out a small chuckle.

He knew sth you didn't know.

"Okay. Dissappear, please. I don't want to see you this early in the morning." you said to Wooyoung, staring him down. You took a cigarette out of your pocket and lit it, going om the balcony to ease your mood.

"We both know you love me, y/n, don't act like this" He said teasingly, approaching you slowly.

"Fuck you, don't piss me off. Go away! " you said, pushing him away.

"Fine. I'll be in the room if you need me" he whispered.

"Fuck off you bitch" you whisperer, not letting him hear you.

You took your phone out of the pocket and dialed Hongjoong.

"Joong please! I can't live with this brat! We've been in the same room for 3 minutes and we already started bickering! Please change the layout... " you pleaded.

But you didn't hear anything. Instead, he hung up in you, giving you the final answer.

"Oh cmon, you fucker" you said to yourself.

*several minutes later*

You decided to go back in the room after smoking quite a few cigarettes. After all, you were trying to distract yourself from the situation.

But it didn't last long.

"Huh? where the fuck did he go?"

"Well, better for me, I won't see his face for a while. Maybe he's planning to kill me? I wouldn't be surprised"

You later decided to go take a shower to ease your muscles after the mission you had 2 days ago, but to your surprise and horror.. you met Wooyoung's gaze in the hall, right besides the bathroom's door. He was halfway naked, t-shirt on the floor and only in his briefs. You were trying to look away but.. froze. You stared him from head to toe, stopping at his collarbones, then at his waist... his underwear. He was.. packing.

"For fucks sake, Wooyoung! What are you doing?" you finally said, after eye fucking him for a long minute.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Chill, I wanted to take a shower. Unless you wanna join me?" he said laughing, but seeing your flustered face made his gaze darken.

"Oh.. maybe you want to join me after all, judging from your stare, hm?" he said, approaching you.

"Fuck off! Don't you touch me, what the fuck!" you said and slapped him, looking horrified in his eyes at what you just did. You always bickered and fought with him but never in your right mind thought about hitting him.

"Ouu, feisty." he said and slammed your wrists to the wall, right above you.

"The fuck are you doing?!" you said trying to escape his grip but to no avail. He was strong.. and besides being strong you made him mad.

"Oh kitten, I've seen your gaze. You've been eye fucking me for a while, is that right?" he whispered right into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

*click*

He closed the door with his left hand. You had nowhere to go. But... did you want to leave?

"Wooyoung it's not funny, I hate everything about you."

He tilts his head at your words.

"Come again, darling? I didn't quite hear you."

"You're fucking annoying, don't get on my nerves" you said, squirming and trying to get away from his grip. But with every word and every sentence he was saying, your force dissipated and you were starting to give in... maybe you wanted him after all?

You had a window of freedom and took something out of your pocket.

"Ouuu, a knife? Are you trying to perhaps flirt with me?" he said smiling, tightening his grip on your wrists.

"Drop it. I can't guarantee your safety with that shit around me, y/n." he said and took it from your hands.

"Shut the fuck up"

"Make me, love"

You gulped. You never thought that your... death enemy would turn you on but.. here you are, arousal pooling in your panties and trying to keep your composure and not jump on him in that instant. He was staring you down, you could feel how his eyes were eating you right there. He closed the gap between your bodies, you could feel his briefs getting thighter against your thighs.

"Wooyoung.. ? The fuck are you doing?" You said flustered, looking at the bulge forming in front of you.

"Perhaps I want to fuck you or... leave you hanging? Either way... it's so much fun seeing you this flustered... you've never been like this. It makes me go insane" he said, leaning in, hovering his lips over your collarbones.

You didn't try to run away now. You almost fully gave in but... there was still something holding you back. Was he always like this? Was he.. always into you.. like this? All these thoughts were driving you insane as you felt your cunt wetting your jeans. Did you want to give in? Did you want to leave? Your body was telling you something.. while your mind was telling you otherwise. But... you wanted to give in. Truth is... you've always wanted to fuck him. To fuck the cockiness and brattiness out of him. To see him flustered, to find out why he's always been bratty with you and only you.

Though.. he continued before letting you say something.

"You know... the problem is.."

He said as he leaned in, staring at your lips with hunger and thirst.

"If I touch you... or kiss you... I don't think I'll be able to back off."

He said... waiting for the slightest response from you.

"Wooyoung -" you mustered your courage to say, touching his lip with your thumb after he loosened the grip on your hands.

He took that as a yes.

Wooyoung leaned in for a kiss, one of his hands holding your wrists above and the other one on your waist, all touchy.

"To be honest with you, y/n"

He stopped for a moment.

"I've always wanted to do this"

He said as he leaned in for a deeper, sloppier kiss. His hand going down to your ass, trying to feel you up in every way possible.

"I hate you, Wooyoung."

"No. babe. You hate the fact that you actually want me" he said, planting a kiss on your neck.

And that was it.. you were making out with your death enemy. Tongues interlocking, lewd sounds being heard in the whole room. His hands going down to your pants and your hands on his shoulders, he took you in his hands and put you on the washing machine in the bathroom. In the meantime, you could feel his hands all touchy around your waist. He was not that shitty, after all. He was waiting for you to fully give in before making any move that would make you uncomfortable. But as he said... you'd been eye fucking him for a while now.

You unzipped your pants and he took them off. His hands going back to your ass, now tugging at your panties. As soon as he touched your thigh, really close to your cunt, you flinched.

He stopped.

"Hm? why did you stop"

"You flinched. All good w me all over you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good girl" he said. smiling.

"Fuck you, Wooyoung"

"Oh yes, please." he said and went in for a wild sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip while he took of your panties and bra. You were already bare in fron of him while he still had his briefs on... which you took care of in a second. You first started touching his tip through the cloth, feeling how hard it has gotten these past few moments. He didn't lie, after all. He really wanted to fuck you... judging from all the pre cum leaking through. You tugged at them and took them off only halfway before his cock sprung up out of the enclosed briefs.

You gulped.

"Hm? did you say something, love?"

"Are you... perhaps.. surprised?" he said, chuckling at the view he had. Your hand was resting on his dick, which was halfway out of his underwear. He was right... you were fucking surprised at how big he was.

"N-no" you said flustered. He could see the look on your face. You wanted to fuck him right there.

He left you sitting on the washing machine.

"Where the fuck are you going? Don't piss me off, you started this" you said, staring at him.

"Wait a moment, I'm just gonna do something" and as he finished talking, he turned on the shower.

"Oh, my fucking god." You gasped.

"Wooyoung.." you said but couldn't finish your sentence as he took you in his grip and dropped you off in the shower, the water dripping off your collarbones.

"Didn't you want to take a shower, woman? The fuck you looking at" he said before one of his hands went straight to your neck, receiving a choked whimper from you.

"Ooh, you're a cocky one, hm?" he said as you stopped showing him how much you wanted him.

"You're one to talk, Wooyoung" you said and right after you finished your sentence he pushed you on the wall, your breasts against the wall and your back arched for the man behind you.

"Stay still, babe." he said as he slapped your ass, holding onto it for dear life. He was resting his dick on your folds, rubbing against them for a moment.

"Fucking god.. y/n. I hate how good you feel"

He said as he pushed only his tip in.

"It makes me want to destroy the fuck out of you"

He said as he pushed himself fully into your cunt, receiving a loud moan from you.

"Wooyoung ! " you shouted, trying to hold onto something. He had other plans. He took your hair into a fist and with his other hand he held onto you, bottoming out with every single one of his thrusts. It hurt but oh god... you never thought he'd fuck this good. You were holding on for dear life, the wall slippery from the water running on you and your knees weak.

"I'm not even - oh"

"Sweating yet, babe." You said, stopping in the middle because of one of his thrusts.

"Is that really all you - g-got?" you muffled.

"Hm? You want more, huh? What a needy cunt you have." he said, burying his face into the nape of your neck, still holding on your hair, pulling it back. "Isn't this good to you, darling? Hm?" he said as he slowed down his thrusts, but going deeper as ever.

"Oh - my god" you whimpered, arousal dripping from your folds, as he pulled out for a moment.

"The fuck are you doing" you said annoyed, cause he stopped you from catching your high.

"You said you didn't even sweat so I stopped. I thought you meant I'm not good enough to you"

"You're a damn nuisance, Wooyoung. I can see your dick throbbing. Did you really want to stop?" you said, smiling at the view.

"Not your damn business. Quite a mouth you have, it seems like you need someone to put you in your place" he said as he manhandled you. He turned you around and pushed you on your knees, his cock on your cheek, rubbing on it while his hand was holding your hair.

"Got something to say, y/n? Are you finally.. quiet?" he said, looking down at you.

"Never, you fucker"

"Ohh, bratty. I love it" He said as he pushed his dick in your mouth, feeling it right in the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. His dick was girthy... you could feel how it stretched your mouth so well. This brat also didn't let you adjust to his size. Having no room to breath, you were choking on his tip, but little did he care. He loved seeing you helpess, fucked dumb and being sucked by you.

When he pulled out for a short second you coughed, gasping for air.

"You're.. cute" he said chuckling, stroking your head while you had his dick on your lips.

"You bet" you said and you softly bit his tip, receiving a moan from him.

"Fuck you, y/n. This is how we are, hm? Fuck that hurt" he said, looking down at you, plotting something.

He kneeled and pushed you around. He wanted you to sit on all fours.

"Ass up, babe. On all fours. Turn around, on a side. Now." he said and even before having time to move, he manhandled you how he wanted. You were now sideways on your knees and hands.

"Suck."

And you obeyed. But little did you know he had completely other plans that you were bound to find out as soon as you felt the free hand, the one that wasn't holding your hair, on your spine right down to your ass. He used two of his fingers to spread out your wet, dripping folds. One of it rubbing on your clit, the other one slowly finding it's way in your cunt. He curled his finger inside you, making you arch your back and stop sucking him off. You gasped at the sensation.

"Damn, I never thought you'd be this hot sucking me off like the little whore you are. Wanna cum, hm? I can see it on your face. All flustered up and weak for me" he said, pushing two fingers inside you.

He was right, you were so close to finishing, barely standing on your knees. Your hands were slipping, trying to hold yourself up on his thighs.

"Stop" he said.

"W-what why" you said angrily, looking at him and gasping when he pulled out his fingers, your cunt clenching on nothing.

"You fucker, it's the 2nd time you've fucked with my orgasm. What's your problem, want me to kill you?" you shouted, weak in your knees as soon as he put his hand on your neck.

"Hmm.. maybe I love seeing you so desperate for me. For my dick, for my fingers. But... did you just say you'd.. kill me? Is that right, babe?" he said as he choked you, staring you up and down.

"We'll see about that. Get up and face me. Now." he said, waiting for you to obey.

He then lifted you up right on his dick, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hand was holding you from below and with one he was leaning against the wall, not letting your head hit the hard tile in the shower.

"Wooyoungh-h, I gotta-" you muffled.

"Use your words, pretty. I didn't quite understand"

"I gotta, mhhm, c-cum"

"Like, now" you said and let out a muffled moan, trying to look back at Wooyoung.

"Nu-uh babe, I didn't yet."

He stopped for only a second.

"Let's make a deal. Cum at the same time as me. Won't be that hard, right? I can see on your face that you're out of it. Now... cum." he said and started wildly thrusting into you, with so much speed and deepness, with the hand he was leaning against the wall on your clit, rubbing circles on it while closing the distance between you two.

It was like... what? the 3rd time you we're close to it and he was playing with you. But he wasn't a brat until the end and you both came, still thrusting into you so you could take up his load right up your cunt.

As both of you were coming down from your highs, he leaned down to put you down in the tiles and sat besides you.

"Y/n... I never thought this would happen but.. oh my god. You felt so good..." he said while giving you soft kisses on your forehead. He hovered the shower over you, washing you up. You've never seen that side of him. The nice, loving one.. but you loved it.

"Wooyoung.. when I tell you I GULPED when I saw you in the hallway. I was going insane !"

"Then.. up for a round 2?" he said laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, it's late and we need to wake up early as fuck!" you said, scoffing.

"Fine, fine. I'll pass on it tonight. But... what about tomorrow night? We could try the bed, too. It looks pretty sturdy." he said smirking.

"Wooyoung, for fucks sake! SHUT UP!" you said running out of the bathroom, your cheeks flushed from what he just said.

"Dammit, this fucker"

[thevioletcaptain]

Almost a decade ago, in November of 2014, I became so exhausted by seeing people throw around the absurd claim that Dean/Cas fans made up only 1% of SPN fandom that I decided to prove how wrong it was. The most readily available data which didn't rely on conducting a survey or poll -- and was therefore a more accurate representation of actual fandom activity rather than just whoever happened to respond to a survey -- came from fic numbers on Ao3.

I made a post about it at the time (the pertinent figures are included below, or you can see the original post here) and then completely forgot about the entire thing. Until now.

Why? Well, largely thanks to a sudden resurgence of the same old nonsense this week, mostly cropping up in the comment sections of a couple of polls that crossed my dash. The temptation to check if there had been any significant changes to the fandom's activity since I last looked ten years ago was too strong to ignore.

Friends. Things have proven to be shockingly consistent.

With the same caveat from last time -- that this is only showing trends in the subset of fandom who actively uses Ao3, and therefore obviously doesn't take into account the "general audience" subset of fandom who don't participate beyond watching the show and occasionally liking a social media post -- here are the numbers:

Old count | November 9th, 2014 | 4 episodes into S10

Total SPN fics posted - 86,352 Fics listed as gen - 22,718 (26.3%) Fics with Dean/Cas - 33,762 (39.0%) Fics with Sam/Dean - 12,286 (14.2%) Fics with Sam/Cas - 1,634 (1.8%) Fics with Sam/Dean/Cas - 787 (0.9%) 

The remaining 18.6% of SPN fics were non-gen fics featuring other character pairings, including reader inserts and original characters.

New count | May 28th, 2024 | 3.5 years after finale

Total SPN fics posted - 290,707 Fics listed as gen - 61,343 (21.1%) Fics with Dean/Cas - 116,925 (40.2%) Fics with Sam/Dean - 34,673 (11.9%) Fics with Sam/Cas - 5,548 (1.9%) Fics with Sam/Dean/Cas - 1,957 (0.6%)

The remaining 24.3% of SPN fics are non-gen fics featuring other character pairings, including reader inserts and original characters.

Notes on data:

All data was collected while logged in on Ao3 to ensure no incorrect counts were caused by hidden works.

There is some overlap within these numbers due to fics which are tagged with multiple pairings. This might be possible to account for if someone felt like doing more intensive data collection, but I've already spent about an hour and a half on this and that's already a lot more time than I'd like to be doing voluntary math. I enjoy statistics as a point of interest, but goddamn do I hate actually crunching the numbers.

It bears mentioning that Sam/Gabriel (5.1%), Sam/Jess (2.2%), & Dean/Reader (2.5%) all have higher counts than Sam/Cas (1.9%) & Sam/Dean/Cas (0.6%), however I didn't make note of those pairings in 2014, so I'm unsure if there has been any change.

I shouldn't have to say this, but literally all of us are just smashing our fave characters together like dolls, so as interesting as these numbers are this post is not intended to suggest that any ship is "better" than any other ship. This post is intended to do nothing more than show the available data which disproves a baseless claim about the size of Dean/Cas fandom within the larger SPN fandom.

TLDR; the percentage of active Supernatural fans on Ao3 who are interested in Dean/Cas as a pairing is significantly higher than 1%, and that has been a consistent pattern within the fandom for the past ten years.

[vqnrouged]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐆

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : falin, chilchuck (separately)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : a spell from a mysterious witch you encountered in the dungeon turned you into a frog, now what will your crush do when presented your circumstance?

𝐚/𝐧 : this idea came to me and i couldn’t just ignore it. princess and the frog is my fave disney movie of all time and this fits so well with dunmeshi. if people request it, i might just make a pt. 2! <3

↳ 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍

that damned witch, you thought. after already having a troubling day in the dungeon, this encounter was the icing on the cake. now you were a little, slimey frog with no way to properly defend yourself from monsters. you were just lucky that marcille had saw what had happened and picked you up, but not without much reluctance on even touching you.

despite her disgust, she had tried her best to find a spell that could change you back to normal, but to no avail. there weren’t even any hints left behind by the witch once on how to change you back, that just made your mood even worse. now you were stuck being a frog until the spell wore off and you were in a bad mood, just great.

but, luckily, there was another person in your party that knew magic just as well as marcille.

as marcille placed you down on the cobblestone floors, you were presented with falin’s body sitting right in front of you. she looked so beautiful even after having fought for her life just mere minutes ago, if you were human right now you’re sure you would be stumbling over your words just to say hello to her.

but as you lost in your thoughts, the blonde haired girl inched her body closer to get a better look at you. normally falin’s eyes would remain nearly completely closed because of her near-sightedness, but because you were so close to her face there was no need to. her amber eyes fixed themselves on you, observing your new form. “oh, [name]. you got yourself mixed up with a witch, huh?”

then her lips turned down into a frown and her eyes closed again as she spoke. “poor thing. i wish there was a spell i knew that could reverse this…”

without falin having a clue on how to help you, you were beginning to lose hope. were you going to be stuck as a frog for the rest of this adventure in the dungeon? you would rather not have to be killed and revived just to gain your regular body back, but that may just be the only option.

apparently, the girl could tell you were upset too. falin didn’t want to let you down, and she surely didn’t want you to go through the pain of having to be killed then revived. there weren’t any more logical ways she could think of that would turn you back, but there was unordinary one that might just work. “hey, i know! how about a kiss?”

the idea made your eyes widened. was falin really that comfortable with giving a frog a kiss? especially if that frog was in fact you? then she spoke again, “i can tell you’re apprehensive, but think about it. in fairy tales, the princess gives the frog prince a kiss to turn him back into a human! maybe it could work for you too. would you like to try it?”

with no other ideas, this was your last chance to become normal again, so you gave her a nod. “okay then, here it goes.” she said, then brought her face closer to your body.

and with that, falin placed a gentle kiss on top of your head. it felt like you were floating on cloud nine with how fast your thoughts were spinning around in your mind, and your heart was beating just as fast. if you were human at that moment, you’re sure you would be blushing.

then a bright flash appeared in your vision, nearly blinding you. you could feel your body changing it’s form again, it was such an odd sensation. but finally, you were back to your normal self. backing away from falin, you felt yourself with your hands, making sure what you were seeing was real. and thank goodness it was. “oh, it worked!” falin said happily, clasping her hands together.

without much thought, you threw your arms around the girls neck, bringing her into a tight hug. “thank you so much, falin! what would i do without you!” you exclaimed, happy to finally be back in your own body. falin giggled along with you as she reciprocated the embrace.

after a moment, you pulled back. “wait, falin, aren’t the kisses in fairy tales supposed to be a true love’s kiss?” you asked curiously.

she blushed a little at your question, then smiled shyly. “i suppose they are.”

and you couldn’t help but smile back at her. “good.”

↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊

“the hell?!”, he yelled as marcille shoved you into his hands.

the elf backed away from him as soon as you were safely sat on his palms, then used a rag to quickly wipe her hands off. “[name] got turned into a frog by that evil witch lady we saw earlier! i tried to turn them back by using magic, but the spell i tried didn’t end up working.” she said as she kept cleaning her hands, having to carry a frog around was definitely not on her to-do list for the day.

then suddenly marcille glanced up from her hands to speak to chilchuck, a giddy grin on her face. “you should try kissing them, like in the story books! a true love’s kiss should break the spell on them.”

the idea alone made him recoil away farther from her, you still in his hands. yes, he wanted to kiss you. of course he did, but he would rather do it under better circumstances. “are you kidding me?! no way!”

marcille held a serious expression as she looked at him, it almost freaked him out. “chilchuck, you’re the only hope we have to turn [name] back to normal. we have no other ideas and the whole group knows that the two of you like each other as more than friends.”

chilchuck nearly had a stroke at what the elf girl had just said, his widened with bewilderment at this new discovery. was he really that oblivious?“how’d you know?”, he couldn’t help but ask.

izutsumi, having heard the whole conversation from her perch, piped up with a brash remark. “how can you not tell? you make it painfully obvious. it makes me wanna barf.”, then she made a mock retching noise to mess with the half-foot even more.

with a glare, chilchuck glanced over at the young girl. “i wasn’t asking you, izutsumi.”

then he looked back at you in his hands, still hesitant. this is genuinely going to be one of the grossest things i’ve ever done, he thought. and that would be comparing this situation to everything he’s encountered in the dungeon, but he would rather take the chance to turn you back to normal right now than have you stuck like this until you could be revived. “screw it.” and with that quick mutter, he went for it.

the kiss was slimey and rather unpleasant, most definitely not the type of first kiss he wanted to share with you. it was just a simple forehead kiss but he felt like his heart was racing a mile a minute from the act of affection. never in a million years would he ever think that he would have the guts to fall in love with one of his party members, after all it was he that insisted that interpersonal relationships within the party would cause issues. but with you, it just felt different.

and within the moment of that thought, a bright light emitted from his hands. next thing he knew, your body was back to it’s regular size. as you groggily opened your eyes and let out a groan, chilchuck deduced that you must have completely blacked out after the spell had been cast on you. he couldn’t help but let out a short chuckle out at this, so you wouldn’t remember the kiss, huh? “ha! it actually worked.”

through your blurry vision, you could see the green neck-warmer chilchuck always wore which brought you much confusion. why were you in his arms? and what exactly had happened? the last thing you remembered was passing out after a spell had hit you. so the only word you could get out was, “…what?”

the half-foot smiled knowingly at you, he couldn’t wait to see the expression on your face once marcille spilled the beans on what exactly had happened once you took a rest. “nothing.”

@𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 - please do not translate or copy my works.

[aceyalonso]

sera's tracks - 1k celebration

AHHHHHH 1K!!!! thank you so much, i honestly can't believe that I've reached a milestone like this because this blog started out as a joke (I wanted to see how long it would take my friends to find my blog), but here we are 🥹 I am so grateful for every single one of you 💗

similar to my 500 followers event (i swear i'll actually do this one!!), I'll give a list of songs and you guys can request.

These songs are some of my personal faves so there will be a good mix of genres for requests! there's a total of 10 songs + lyrics that you can use as a guide for what the fic/story will be (2 are songs I already have planned, the rest are up for grabs)

a/n: to my wonderful moots who i absolutely love and feel like i’ve known my entire life, @nepobbylver @iamred-iamyellow @cleopatrick-123 @emchante, i just want to say i love you guys!!!! mwah mwah mwah (I love my other moots too I swear, I just haven't had the opportunity to interact with them 😖)

how can i request?  send an ask, pairing a driver with the available songs!

↳ example: “hi! can i request [driver] + [song]? also can it be [choose from smut, angst, fluff, or a combination of any of the 2]?”

can i be added to the taglist? of course, just fill out the form below :)

↳ click me!

guide!

smut - [s] fluff - [f] angst -[a]

fics i have planned!

piano man - billy joel [f] - charles leclerc x fem!reader

butterflies - denise julia [f, s] - lando norris x fem!reader

open for requests!

guilty as sin? - taylor swift [read here] taken - oscar piastri x fem!reader - [a, s]

i keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how i long for our trysts

these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head

without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?

be with you - the ridleys taken - fernando alonso x fem!reader - [a, f, s]

someday i’ll make a home with you, it may be big, it may be small

but if the dreams don’t happen right away, that’s okay, i just wanna be with you every single day, for the rest of our lives

I'm gonna work on my temper, while you learn to speak your mind some more, i'll be more of a shelter and less of a storm

best friends brother - victorious cast, victoria justice taken - daniel ricciardo x fem!reader - [s]

i don’t know what i’m thinking, but is it wrong if i see him this weekend?

i kinda think that i might be his type, 'cause when you're not around, he's not acting too shy

i really hope i can get him alone, i just don’t want her to know

bags - clairo taken - ollie bearman x fem!reader - [f]

can you see me usin’ everythin’ to hold back?

i’m not the type to run, i know that we’re havin’ fun, but what’s the rush? kiss and then my cheeks are so flushed

can you see me? i’m waitin’ for the right time, i can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine

mad - ne-yo taken - franco colapinto x fem!reader - [a, s, f]

so both of us are mad for nothing, fighting for nothing

but baby, can we make up now? cause i can’t sleep through the pain

we can fuss, we can fight, long as everything’s all right between us before we go to sleep, baby we’re gonna be happy

superman - taylor swift taken - max verstappen x fem!reader - [a, f]

he’s got his mother’s eyes, his father’s ambition. i wonder if he know how much that i miss him

i watch superman fly away, you got a busy day today, go save the world, i’ll be around

something in his deep brown eyes has me saying “he’s not all bad like his reputation”

if ever you’re in my arms again - peabo bryson taken - charles leclerc x fem!reader - [a, f]

now, i’m seeing clearly how i still need you near me, i still love you so

the best of romances, deserve second chances, i'll get to you some, 'cause i promise now, if ever you're in my arms again, this time i'll you much better

it all came so easy, the lovin' you gave me, the feelings we shared, and I can still remember how your touch was so tender

guy.exe - superfruit taken - lance stroll x fem!reader - [s]

where all the boys at with financial security? a doctor, a model, a man of possibilities

oh, he’d pick me up at eight, and not a minute late, ‘cause i don’t like to wait, no

i need a man who don’t get jealous ‘less i want him to, a gentleman to take care of me in the bedroom

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions | jjk - series masterlist

title credit: bad decisions - bts

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb

synopsis

it's simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook's ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you've a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you've both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.

genre / tropes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they're just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds) - see read more for warnings & authors note

wordcount: 450k babbbbyyyy (on-going)

soundtrack: official | reader suggestions

start date: 2022.08.06

minors dni // originally posted to wattpad

warnings: reader has a fear of emotional intimacy and uses physical intimacy as a substitute, jungkook has a deep-rooted fear of rejection. lots of drinking, lots of cursing, lots of bad decisions (every chapter includes at least (1)), jk and the oc have different styles of communication (woo miscommunication!!), a lot of past relationship trauma on both sides, jungkook is the sweetest angel baby ever, jin is kinda evil, jimin is a shit shag (and you have to experience it not once but twice!)

smut warnings: oc is a lil bratty, both switchy but jaykay definitely leads <3, fingering, oral (m & f), ass play, a looooot of titty sucking, cock warming, vaginal sex, sex toys (m & f), every position ever created, jaykay has a huge cawk <3, filming, lots of showering together, thigh riding, 69, squirting, panty sniffing (and sucking !), mutual masturbation, motel sex, endless orgasms, like, idek what else to add but there's more!! they just fuck a lot!! not my fault!! blame the birds!!

note from holly: i heard bad decisions once, ONCE, and knew i had to write about whiney jaykay and how fucking him would be a bad decision, but then it spiralled and now im 370k words deep into a fic about origami birds, glitter, and the way jungkook thinks he'll die every time he gets horny. of everything I've ever written it's hands down my favourite set of characters. jungkook is good in a way that he isn't in literally any of my other fics. i think it's my most well-received fic over on wp and it's just v v special to me. i hope u enjoy it!

BAD DECISIONS

key: smut 💖 | holly's fave ✨ | reader fave* 🪩 | bird 🕊 | club 🍇 *as per my wp stats all chapters listed below are available on wp, and will eventually be linked here too.

BD #1 - Purple Starfuckers - 3.5k

🍇 | a disco ball walks into a bar...

BD #2 - Park Jimin - 3.2k

💖 | does it count if you don't finish?

BD #3 - Coffee - 2k

message request from justjk

BD #4 - The Gym - 4.1K

just wanted an excuse to write about gym rat jk tbh

BD #5 - The Bet - 6.6k

🍇🪩 | songs that remind you of the past, blissfully unaware you're laying the foundations of your future

BD #6 - Wishing - 6k

🍇| summer goes by in a technicolour haze

BD #7 - Sex With An Ex - 6k

✨| kim seokjin looks like an angel, loves like lucifer

BD #8 - Washi Tape - 8k

enter stage left: origami birds

BD #9 - White - 6k

✨🕊 | old, leering men at waterparks are gross. jungkook is not.

BD #10 - Blonde - 3.5k

in the wise words of maisie peters, there's nothing more frightening than a woman scorned and a box of bleach

BD #11 - Perry - 5.9k

🕊 | it's totally normal to shower with your friends

BD #12 - An Agreement -7.4k

💖🕊 | jungkook has to leave the room cause he gets way too hard (in a platonic way)

BD #13 - Work of Art - 11.8k

💖 🪩🕊 | you discover mirrors. jungkook discovers tits. learning is fun!

BD #14 - New Rules - 8k

💖 🪩🕊 | jungkook's got nice hands and he knows how to use them

TO BE UPLOADED

BD #15 - Paper Planes

BD #16 - Overindulging

BD #17 - Jeon Jungkook

BD #18 - Cake

BD #19 - Send To All

BD #20 - Park Jimin... Again

BD #21 - Doing The 'Right' Thing

BD #22 - Listening To Jimin

BD #23 - Cherry Picking

BD #24 - Resolutions

BD #25 - January

BD #26 - January, Still

BD #27 - Keeping Quiet

BD #28 - Avoidance

BD #29 - 'Daddy'

BD #30 - Evaluating The Meaning of 'Home'

BD #31 - The Photo Booth

BD #32 - Question...?

BD #33 - Boundaries (Or Lack Thereof)

BD #34 - Speed Dating

BD #35 - Saying 'Please'

BD #36 - Denial

BD #37 - Faking It

BD #38 - Delaying The Inevitable

BD #39 - Rooms

BD #40 - Spinning Bottles

BD #41 - Locked Doors

BD #42 - Hitting Where It Hurts

Wattpad | AO3

[snek-panini]

As promised, I've got more books to share and they are all fic binds. Have a look at this new one:

This is Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos, and it's one of the few post-s2 Good Omens fics that I've liked enough to bind. It's canon-compliant and full of pining, fluff, angst, and a memory loss plot and I knew before even finishing it that I wanted it on my physical shelves.

I kept it pretty simple on the outside, with Library Summit book cloth and white HTV for the title. Large parts of the fic have to do with libraries and library books, so I thought it would be fun to make it look like a library rebind, something that looks innocuous and blends in to the shelves but it's actually going to be your new fave once you open it up and start reading. I wanted very badly to have the titles hand-written in embossing inks but I couldn't get a clean enough line with the textured cloth, so this handwriting font saved the day.

More photos under the cut; I'm really proud of the typeset for this one!

Top view, with pre-made end bands and a ribbon bookmark. Going with the library rebind aesthetic, I didn't think it ought to have handmade end bands, so these were perfect. Honestly I'm not sure the ribbon bookmark fits the theme, but you can pry that from my cold dead hands. All my books have them and I love them too much to leave it out. The endpapers are cream-colored cardstock, and while they look plain they feel nice. I tried out a new-to-me corner style, the library corner, where you don't trim off the excess material at the turn-in. It's supposed to be more durable than other styles and is common in rebinds. Library Summit is stiffer than most of the other book cloth I've worked with, so it was a little challenging to get it to lay flat while drying, and it's a bit bulkier than I'm used to, but it's perfect for the theming. Unrelatedly, it also holds a hinge crease really well.

Title page. I could not be more pleased with this title page design. I showed it to my husband after I finished the text block but before I had the cover on it, and he didn't realize at first that it was one of mine. I have cracked the code of professional title pages. The graphics were, at the time I put this together, available for free on rawpixel. I'm in love with it. It is sexy as hell and it will never be equaled.

Couple more interiors. The chapter header font is called Book Ends and I found it on DaFont. You add in the little plants and stuff with symbols. I haven't done much with custom fonts until this batch of fics, and in some of the others I've got in the pipeline I went a little nuts with them, but I think this one's my favorite for how well it fits the story. I also started experimenting with formatting text messages in this fic, and I'm very pleased with how those came out as well. The Renegade Bindery discord has resources on this kind of formatting, so check them out if you haven't already. I'd never have gotten them so professional-looking otherwise.

And that's it for this bind! I started working on it back in April and I'm thrilled to finally be able to show off the finished product. Thanks @rhosmeinir (Hi! It's Amberfly from Ao3!) for giving me permission to bind it nearly six months ago.

[narwhalsarefalling]

rey i need ya gen fic bnha recs

congratulations, i have a whole ass collection. but here's some faves. A collection of both oneshot and multichap!

Gauntlet Thrown - pikahlua

Pro hero Katsuki Bakugou has deigned to apply for a teaching position at UA, and the lucky bastard who gets to conduct the job interview is none other than Shouta Aizawa.

Second Chances - amarisllis

Aizawa’s heartbeat is pounding against Katsuki’s ear, so loud and fast that it blocks out everything else. Katsuki’s arms flail, unsure what to do now that he’s being hugged by his teacher who’s never really cracked more than a tiny smile in their presence before. Wha— Oh. Oh, oh shit. Aizawa is crying. “Sensei—” “You were dead.” His voice breaks on the last word. Oh. Shit.

candid - OwlF45

The Commission passes a new requirement for hero licenses: pass a mental simulation. For Izuku, a holder of One For All, this idea ends in catastrophe. A series focused on the simulation, and everything that comes after.

Switchblade - Cacid

"I’m only two minutes late!” Izuku protested. Had he missed the start of an important test? None of the national, standardized tests were supposed to happen this month and even being two minutes late to one of those wouldn’t elicit this sort of reaction. They were discussing their career interest forms today, but that was it. Nothing time-critical was supposed to be happening. “Midoriya, you were reported missing a week ago. No one has seen you for eight days. The police have been combing the city for you.” "I’m sorry. What?” Midoriya Izuku went missing for a week and turned up in a back alleyway with skills he's never even heard of and no memory of how he came by them. He resigns himself to never learning the truth of what happened to him, but he shouldn't waste this chance should he? He could become a hero with reflexes like these. (Russian Translation available)

Razzmatazz - xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything. He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this. For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had. Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves. (Or: Izuku saves the number one hero, gets a hero license way earlier than anyone wanted, realizes that maybe hero society isn’t as great as he thought it was, and everything just kind of falls apart from there.)

third couch is the charm - laurenshappenstobemyhusband

Shouto trained for years to control his ice. Encasing everything in ice whenever he sneezed, got angry or startled, or just whenever he wasn't paying attention always got him into trouble, and he's glad he finally has complete control over his right side. Unfortunately, he can't say the same about his flames. OR: Todoroki sets three couches on fire, which apparently is too many, so now he has to take quirk control classes with Kaminari and they bond over mutual destruction

All's Well - Vexfulfolly

Trigger + Katsuki Bakugou = One hell of a precarious situation OR What it's like to be a walking bomb.

El Manisero - Lila17

"that fic where Sero runs a peanut cartel at UA"

see it all in bloom - aloneintherain

Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.” (Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

and i know these don't REALLY count because they're mine, but here's my OWN gen fics that I had a GREAT time writing

And in the forest, I can be free

His prosthetic leg was covered in stickers. Her hands were stained with marker ink in wonderful multicolor. She could color outside the lines. She could color inside the lines. She could color the skin pink or the hair black or whatever color she wished. She could ignore the lines entirely and just draw whatever she wanted. Chiasaki would have never allowed any of this. She doesn’t freeze or feel that horrible feeling in her chest at the thought of him anymore. Instead she only felt... Something else. It was a warmer feeling, one that settled in her gut. It took a few days of this new feeling to be recognized and named- anger. She wasn’t as afraid anymore, that had grown into anger. How could anything in this so-called “sick” place ever be bad? She admires her color-stained hands, the shoes that were allowed to remain dirty, the softness of fresh mud during a rainstorm under her hands. Sand between her fingers, dust wiped away from glass to reveal a view of the forest. Eri doesn’t care if she’s cursed. She doesn’t care if this entire world is covered in little germs that would make her sick. Eri loves it so much. - A look at Eri and her relationship with cleanliness

Within Rime and Reason

1. He reached up to touch the base of his scar. Somehow, without the red hair framing it, it looked almost like a birthmark. Less of a harsh, angry burn scar and more of a memory. He didn’t look like a man with a tragic past, he looked like a boy. If he wasn’t completely blind in that eye, he would almost believe it was one. “You look so manly,” Kirishima breathes. “No,” Todoroki says with a smile. “I look like my mother. I look womanly.” 2. And suddenly so many pieces of the puzzle drop into place. His eye is unseeing. White pupil. Milky iris. With the skin around it poreless and hairless. Easy to cover up with makeup. Oil-less and unmoisturized. Like a scar. Like a burn. “Todoroki,” Mina says softly. The brush she’s holding drops to her lap. “This isn’t a birthmark I’m covering up, is it?” - Todoroki gets a makeover. Emotional conversations happen.

have fun and enjoy!

[killjoy-prince]

My ANYC haul

I bought some spicy stuff which you can see under the cut

[lanymme]

it 1000% feels like, for the lack of time/aid/skill, the translators end up using machine TL for events, and that image you posted as an example feels like a prime candidate for that

fiammetta's file lines to this day are awkward and stunted because they're almost word for word machine TLs

Okay I was gonna wait a little while for this post but you hit the nail on the head.

My (apparently not-so) tinfoil hat theory about this game: nearly all of it is machine translated.

While reading Dorothy's Vision in preparation for Lone Trail, I came across a (probably infamous) stretch of critically story-relevant text that was not translated at all. A friend of mine directed me to the arknights story reader, where I looked into the EN translation and, yep, that's still Chinese. So I ran it through a Machine TL to get the jist of it. It was serviceable, a lot of the terms translated surprisingly well, but the moment to moment writing was obscured to me by the TL quality.

And in a moment of dread I realized it read EXACTLY like any old bit of Arknights story, and everything clicked. The problems I have always had with the sentence structure and word choice feeling strangely disjointed, lacking in logical flow--all of it showed up the same from this raw machine translation.

Y'all. We've been getting a poorly touched-up machine translation of the Chinese text this whole time. All the effort you have to put in to just figure out what's being said--it's not your fault, the story is not too smart for you, it's because you're being asked to read a machine translation, without the context that it will be rough and full of holes.. Everything that writing is--beyond merely conveying information or a sequence of events--we get none of that.

Think about all the nuance we missed of your favorite characters. Your favorite moments. How much of their nuance and depth did we miss?

How many other characters and moments did you dismiss or skim because the writing couldn't convey their emotional core? How many of those could have been as important to you as your current fave?

The fact that Kal'tsit comes across as unintelligible--does she instead sound wise and poetic, in the original?

How much of the full text of Arknights do you think is available to us? 80%? 40%? Who can say.

But I can say one thing. What we have now is not acceptable.

Edit: hey, it’s been put forward by people with actual expertise in this field that MTL is highly unlikely here, and I realize I was a bit bold for this. If this is coming up in your feed pls seek out their explanations of things instead of reblogging the root! Thanks!

[calware]

would you ever share a list of your fave fics to reread ? Id love to hear your recommendations and faves

sure thing :) i'm only going to list works that have been going on for a while (or at least have gotten past the very beginning of the story) and that i've read all the way through. i'm also not going to list any of the super iconic fics i like because this list is already pretty long. these are all based on stuff that i personally find more interesting to read about, mostly focused on the human characters and not a lot of romance

i don't really know if these first two count but they're too good to not include:

Jade Route by spicyyeti

a post-epilogues comic centering around jade, this is my favorite homestuck fanwork. i especially love the artwork and the way it frames the story. it is reaaallllly hard to read it on a phone so make sure to read it on a computer or tablet

House of Dirk by imarriedacherub no rating - graphic depictions of violence - 13,570 words - 20 chapters (unfinished) A sitcom about completely normal and well-adjusted newlyweds Dirk and Caliborn attempting to make a good impression on their son, Dave, and his boyfriend, Karkat.

another comic, this one hosted on both ao3 and mspfa (though the ao3 version has more pages). i like how ridiculous it is. will probably never be finished, sadly

moving on to the actual fics:

Reallocated by breezefulskies mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 324,756 words - 65 chapters (unfinished) Hal finds himself stranded aboard a certain meteor, impact-bound for Houston, Texas circa 1995. And everything spirals out from there. Because sometimes, when a system seems to be just short of defunct, all that is required is to take a step back and reevaluate the materials at hand and redistribute your available resources. And so, with birth comes a countdown on a cycle that begins as it ends: In the red.

hal is mysteriously sent to earth via unknown means and finds himself raising a baby as best as he can, which, given that he's glasses, is not easy. this is my favorite homestuck fic, not just because it's about hal, but also because i love the focus on family dynamics and the plot as it unfolds. begging everyone to read this, i can't say what happens exactly without spoiling things, it's just really really good. at the moment, it updates once a month

Ersatz Abyss by katreal mature - no archive warnings apply - 120,092 words - 39 chapters (unfinished) You look into the mirror to find your own face looking back at you. You laugh. And then you cry. Last, you try and figure out how you got to this moment. The Auto-Responder had long since resigned himself to an artificial existence, his only dwindling hope for escape hinging on a promise that has yet to be fulfilled. Then one day he wakes up, Dirk nowhere to be found. What's the point in getting what you want, if you can't show off a little?

another great hal fic. i managed to get my roommate (who has not read homestuck) to read this and they really enjoyed it, so i'm sure you all won't have any problems liking this one either. there are a lot of fics out there of hal getting a body, but this one is very different in that it's not the happy ending that you might first think it is. this fic perfects the feeling of everything snowballing into a bigger and bigger problem until it all falls apart

Falling for the First Time by nobrandhero teen - no warnings apply - 63,818 words - 11/17 chapters The game is over, Alpha Earth resets to 2009, and Dirk's bro doesn't live up to expectations. The movie director who appears so chill and stoic in interviews is actually a talkative, needy dweeb like his teenage counterpart. It's not a bad thing, as far as Dirk's concerned.

for whatever reason, i'm a sucker for fics where the characters somehow end up on earth again post-game, and out of all the fics that follow that concept this one is my favorite. sadly, this one barely touches on jane and jake, but it's pretty interesting to read about what dirk and roxy are getting up to with their guardians (and the earth) restored to their previous conditions

The Haunted Harley House by hemoanarchists teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 78,462 words - 23 chapters (finished) There is an old house you built a long long time ago, alongside someone very close to you. Now as you don a new name, slipping back into society to care for a descendant, to whom tragedy has left you as her only family left, you take her to the house, the house that bears your family name. You really shouldn't have been surprised when he came to join you. It is his house too, after all.

carlah, a young girl who lives on earth c, has just been taken in by her uncle "jacob harley" after her mother's death. as time goes on, she slowly learns more about the true nature of her new guardians and the house they all live in. normally i'm not that interested in OCs but i love how intriguing carlah is as an outsider of the story. it's really easy to get invested in her as she uncovers a mystery we all know from the beginning and another that we have to learn along with her. shoutout to dysfunctional family dynamics

actually, while i'm at it, i'm going to recommend a bunch of other stuff he's written:

Atlantis Bound teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 33,263 words - 8 chapters (unfinished) Dirk tracks down an old friend

prequel to the haunted harley house but can also be read after (or separately). i really like the dynamic between dirk and vriska here, and i also love the way vriska's repeated reincarnation is utilized. vriska's journey through the newest iteration of her life while dirk watches over her is soooo captivating, especially when snippets of her previous lives are sprinkled in throughout. do you guys love cycles? personally i love cycles

Cherubian mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 54,011 words - 29 chapters (unfinished) The 5000 year time skip never happened, at the dawn of time the gods desperately try to guide the planet into a better future. But with tensions rising it feels like one bad day could bring everything crumbling down.

all of dante's earth-c god fics as a whole changed my brain chemistry and this acts as the beginning (and catalyst) of that overarching story. a lot happens in a very short amount of time

Transitional teen - no warnings apply - 1,860 words - oneshot a simple question what changed when you went godtier?

super simple but also an interesting exploration of the headcanon that players' bodies change when they go godtier. the twist is that each "change" is unique to each character and relates to their Self in some way

Monster under the bed teen - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,573 words - oneshot Skeletons in the Closet mature - chose not to use archive warnings - 2,910 words - oneshot Small Talk teen - no warnings apply - 8,944 words - 6 chapters (unfinished)

putting all three of these together because i believe(?) they're all part of the same narrative

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 22: To Pick a Lock

Summary: The gang discovers a one of your "talents" and puts it to good use.

*This amazing images comes from one of my faves, @papaue00

*Thank you to @readingcoco for beta reading for me! You are amazing!

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

“Explain to me how this happens.” 

You stand in front of Arthur, arms extended out as far from your body as possible as you shake out a mud-crusted shirt of his, cautiously squinting as bits of dirt fly through the air in front of your wrinkled-up nose. “Do you literally lay down and roll in mud to get your clothes this dirty?”

“Sometimes,” the man in question shrugs. “Other times we draw straws to see who stands in the middle while the other fellers throw dirt at him.” He snickers as he makes a whipping motion with his arm.

All you can do is give him an exasperated look as your arms drop down in defeat in front of you.

“See, when you say dumb things like that, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” 

Arthur playfully shakes his eyebrows at you as his arm shoots out, snaking around your waist to quickly pin you to his chest, causing you to giggle and squirm as he plants a few teasing kisses along the side of your neck. Standing a few feet away, Abigail can only shake her head at your flirtatious nonsense. 

It’s a brisk fall afternoon, and the sun hangs in the sky like a dollop of golden yellow paint dropped on a canvas of grays and purples. Arthur is helping you with laundry. He’s bored and hovering over you as a means of distracting himself, wanting nothing more than to take you back to your shared tent for something more stimulating. But Ms. Grimshaw is keeping a keen eye on you to make sure you get your chores done. 

With the year well into the fall now, daylight is limited as is the time available to get things done along with it. So rather than dragging you off, Arthur figures it would be best to help out in order to get your work done faster. And by “help”, he means carrying the baskets for you and keeping you company while you wash and hang alongside Abigail. You don’t mind, really. Arthur doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as he’d like and rarely does he ever have “nothing to do”. So you will accept his company in any manner you can get it.

The sound of thunderous hoofbeats echoes into the new camp, causing your small group to lift their collective heads towards the path. A few of the men had gone out earlier this morning and it appears the commotion is a sign of their imminent arrival. Excitable voices carry through the air, wound up and hollering about something. It doesn’t take long before you eventually hear a loud metallic banging sound, coupled with shouts of frustration.

“What in god's name is all the noise?” huffs Abigail, craning her neck in the direction of the racket to try and see through the maze of tents and wagons.

“Who knows.” You toss the newly folded shirt in your hands into the basket at Arthur’s feet with a sigh. “But we should probably look into it before someone ends up losing an eye or a finger,” you snort back with a lofty eye-roll. 

Arthur can only chuckle as he follows after you like a puppy as you head over to investigate. It warms his heart how you’ve taken to looking after everyone in the several months that you’ve been with the gang, becoming more and more like Grimshaw everyday—in a good way, of course. 

You, Abigail, and Arthur amble into the common area, and see Bill, Javier and Micah standing over a table, their attention acutely focused on something set upon its surface, as the rest of the gang jostle to make room for Dutch. 

As you get closer and peer around Bill’s massive trunk of a torso, you realize that the boys have come back to camp with an ornate travel chest. A pounding noise ricochets within your skull, grating against your nerves as Bill beats the lock with a rock in a hopeless attempt to get it open. 

“What’d you all find out there?” questions Arthur, striking a match across the tabletop and lighting the cigarette that precariously hangs from his plump lips. You and Arthur exchange a cynical glance before he curiously eyes the chest then looks to Javier for more details. 

“Found ourselves a fancy box!” quips Javier, his nimble fingers coming up to rub his chin as he watches Bill intently. “And where there’s a fancy box-”

“-There’s even fancier things inside,” finishes Micah with a smirk, his hands twitching by his gun belt as he too anxiously awaits the trunk’s unveiling. 

You try not to chortle as you watch Arthur roll his eyes with trademark skepticism, thumbs coming to rest in his gunbelt as he shifts his weight from hip to hip.

“So why ya beatin’ the damn thing?” Arthur’s head cocks to the side, amused as he watches Bill get more and more frustrated by the second, his face turning red and flustered with each striking blow. You defensively step back from Bill, holding your hands up in front of you to make sure you don't get caught in the swing of his burly arm.

“Tryin’ to get this damn thing open, Morgan!” grunts Bill. “We were in town and saw this rich-looking coach unattended. Seemed like their own fault, so we started digging around inside and found it. Didn’t have time to crack the thing open so we just grabbed it and took off before anyone noticed.”

“Stop banging away at it!” you scold, grabbing Bill’s beefy forearm before he can make another strike. “See that gold leafing along the surface? This is an expensive piece.” You loosen your grip to run your fingertips along the gilding, tracing the fine craftwork with a feather-light touch. “You can sell this trunk alone for $30 to the fence.” 

Bill halts immediately, a bit shocked when he feels your soft hand on him. But he’s also now stumped at how to proceed in opening the chest and looking to you for the answer. Poor Bill, always in a battle between brains and brawn, and unfortunately for him there is only ever going to be one winner. 

A motherly sigh escapes your lips as you shake your head sweetly at Bill. “As usual, all this needs is a little ‘woman’s finesse’,” you purr sweetly. You reach over to Abigail and pluck a hairpin out from her bun, setting yourself down at the table with the box laid out in front of you. The crowd watches silently as your hands rest upon the chest, and you start to wiggle the pin around inside the lock. Within a minute, the lock pops open with a simple and gracefully little clicking sound. 

“There, now. All yours.” You turn the box towards the group of waiting men, with a satisfied smile on your face. They all look at you, stunned as to what just happened, but then quickly begin to dig into the mysterious case. And they are not disappointed. Inside they find cash, jewelry, bonds and other precious mementos belonging to the previous owner. You lean forward with your chin resting in your hand, watching as they excitedly pull items out to admire.

Bill plucks something out of the box and hands it to you. “Here you go, Y/N. There’s your cut.” 

Accepting the glittering item from his meaty bear-paw, you roll it in your hand, instantly realizing it’s a broach. He gives you an earnest smile, proud of himself for landing such a score. Bill is always such a beast of a man, not graceful in the slightest. But he does always try to be gentle around you, at least.

“Why, thank you, Sir,” you grin in return, admiring the beautiful jade-green stone that nests in a filigree of polished silver.

“Where did you learn how to do that, Y/N?” asks Abigail as she, too, begins to curiously finger through the jewelry inside.

“I have friends who taught me when I was in Rosewood.”

“How do you have friends that know how to pick locks?” asks Javier incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, before meeting us, that is.” He gives you his suave smile and a wink.

A demure little grin pops across your face, relishing the idea that you can still surprise these people, even after all these months. Your chin coquettishly dips to your shoulder. 

“Never you mind, Javier. A woman needs a little mystery.” 

“Wait a minute, you never said you knew how to pick a lock!” Arthur turns his attention from the stack of cash in front of him to face you now, fully realizing what you’ve just said.

“You never asked,” you reply plainly with a simple shrug. 

Micah lets out a patronizing little huff. “Maybe you should be doing a little more talking at night in your tent, cowpoke,” teases Micah. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t concern yourself with what’s happening in my tent at night,” Arthur shoots back with a glare. 

“Hold on,” Dutch interjects with annoyance, his hands raised in the air to silence everyone as he acutely directs his attention towards you. “Are you saying you can do this with any lock?” 

You shrug again. “I don’t know if I’d say any lock,” your voice somewhat uncertain under Dutch’s intense gaze, ”but probably.” 

“Why the hell am I just hearing this now?!” Dutch huffs, planting his hands onto his hips. But before you can answer him, you see an idea forming in that deceptive mind of his, coiling like fog creeping through the valley in the morning. “Ho, ho, have I got an idea, gentleman,” he smirks, tapping his ringed finger against his mustached lips. 

“There’s a bank over in Red Rock that I’ve been eyein’. But I’m told it's next to the law office— strategically placed there to ward off robberies. Any attempt on it would have to be quiet. No shooting, no explosions of any kind.” Dutch shakes his finger at you. “If we can get her in there, into that vault-”

“Now, hold on a minute, Dutch. Y/N ain’t ready for anything like that,” Arthur cuts in, his hand waving firmly against the very idea of it. You watch his handsome face immediately turning into a deep, disapproving scowl.

“Well, she’s gonna have to be ready sometime,” argues Dutch. “I ain’t about to let a resource like her go to waste.” He counters as he waves his hand in your direction. “Besides, you’ll be there, too Arthur, and we all know you ain’t gonna let anything happen to her”. 

Dutch is right about that. Arthur would sooner take a bullet himself than put you in harm’s way. But still, the very idea of you being in danger sets his stomach turning. It’s the thing that he’s dreaded the most ever since you met, let alone started your relationship. He can’t fathom intentionally endangering you, yet he doesn’t want to disobey Dutch, either. The conflict is apparent on Arthur’s chiseled face as his eyes skip to the treeline, trying to find a suitable excuse to get you out of it. But all Dutch needs to do is shoot Arthur that glare to put him back in his place. 

When satisfied that Arthur’s silence means that he has succumbed to his will yet again, Dutch turns back to you. “You continue to amaze me, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice floats with that smooth, silky tone he uses when he needs to seduce people into doing his bidding, even against their better judgment. Like a snake that lures its prey, the man can be almost hypnotic when he needs to be. But you’ve never felt directly threatened by Dutch…until now. 

A slight chill dances up your spine as you stare at him with your large doe-eyes, an animal trapped by a hunter. And all you can do is sit there mutely as they all begin to discuss how to best use your newly-discovered “talent”. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

The crisp autumn breeze caresses your face, lifting the rogue strands of hair from your cold cheeks as you find yourself standing on the edge of the street. Across the way is the large green building that will be your target. It is adorned with black window-shutters and trim and looms ominously over you. A large sign hangs above the entry doors:  Red Rock Savings and Loan. The letters leer at you in an almost mocking and intimidating way. You try in vain to swallow, your mouth dry as the desert. Fingers betray a slight shake as you fidget with your hair and nervously smooth out the skirt of your emerald green dress for the third time in the last five minutes. 

You are going to be on your own for the first part of Dutch’s plan. You take a deep breath, slowly letting it out through trembling lips in an attempt to quell the butterflies in your stomach, going over the scheme one last time in your head. Your palms are sweaty, even in the chill air, and you continually wipe them along your hips, before absentmindedly playing with your hair yet again.

And then it dawns on you:  you are not sure if you can do this. What if Arthur is right and you really aren’t ready? You’ve never done anything like this before in your life. You’ve listened to the wild escapades of your fellow gang members but have never actively participated yourself. The most you’ve ever done is act as a decoy, never actually getting your own hands dirty. This will be your first act at truly committing a crime. 

What if something goes wrong? Will you have the where-with-all to know what to do? Could you ever defend yourself if something needed to be done? Arthur and the others will be there to protect you, but what if you are a liability to them? What if they need you to help them? You know how to shoot a gun, as you’ve hunted with Arthur and Charles plenty of times. But to point a gun at a person, to look them in the eye as you pull the trigger, that is something else entirely. If the nightmares and restless nights that Arthur has, ones that he pretends don’t happen, are any indication, the weight of taking someone else’s life leaves a heavy burden on one’s soul. Are you ready for that?

But as you stand there in the street, you eventually force yourself to steel your nerves with a slow deep breath. Closing your eyes, focusing on how your heart beats in your chest, the monotonous thumping echoes in your ears. You are part of the notorious Van Der Linde gang, you tell yourself. You are Arthur Morgan’s woman. And it is about damn time that you act like it. 

Your life before joining the gang, before meeting Arthur, had always been at the mercy of others, being subservient to the demands of men and your class. You have always done what was right and proper, falling in line with other people’s expectations and look where it got you: family name in tatters, your father gone, assaulted by the men who killed him, and left destitute by the high society that had pretended to care. 

But you are past that now. No need to hide in the shadows, no need to take anyone’s bullshit anymore. If joining Dutch Van Der Linde’s gang has taught you anything, it’s that. Running with a gang allows you to be free to do as you please and you do not have to answer to anyone. 

You need to pull from the strength of your new family, as they are counting on you. Arthur is counting on you. No turning back now. And with a grin of determination on your lips, you lift your chin, shaking off the last bit of nervous energy, and get into character to boldly stride over to the bank. 

You pull open the heavy wooden door, gliding confidently through the opening. Remembering all of Hosea’s training, your sparkling eyes take-in the scene as you stand at the threshold: Large room, main exit behind you, hallway towards the back that must lead to the vault and safes. You can’t tell if there is a second exit or not. (Arthur says ‘Always gotta know how you can get in and get out.’) Three tellers to your right, a ring of desks with other bank personnel to your left. All in all, with customers, you have twelve people to account for. 

The bank lobby is fairly large to accommodate a town of this size. You look up to see the clock about to strike 4:00 in the afternoon, a time strategically picked so that there is money in the vault from a full day’s transactions, and close enough to the encroaching nightfall to cover the escape that will eventually come. 

You stride over to the first available teller who comfortably sits behind the counter, your heels confidently clicking on the floorboards as you move.The squat, bespectacled man looks up from his newspaper as you approach his counter. 

“How may I help you today, Miss?” He is a mousey little man, very bookish and unassuming in his worn tan suit. His hazel eyes are made to appear larger by the bottle lenses of his glasses as he blinks expectantly at you. 

“I would like to talk to someone about opening an account here,” you inform him in your most authoritative tone. “My husband and I recently arrived in this area and are in need of getting our affairs in order.”

He looks past you into the lobby. “And where is your husband? Will we be waiting for him to assist you?” he asks.  

A slow, deliberate inhale gets pulled through your nose in aggravation. You bite your tongue and give a forced smile. “Sir, I will have you know that I do not need my husband with me to handle our finances. I know quite well how to manage our money, as we have quite a bit of it thanks to me.”

The teller shrinks back a bit at your angry, snapping comments which are now causing a bit of a scene amongst the small crowd within the lobby. 

“My husband is occupied elsewhere, making arrangements to have our cattle moved to our new ranch and does not have time for such things,” you continue. “He handles the labor, I handle the business. But, if you do not want to help me, simply because I am a woman, then I can certainly take my business and my money elsewhere.” Your eyes burn into the teller, making his insides cringe.

“Excuse me.” You hear a nervous throat clearing as a man in a tailored black suit interrupts the conversation and steps up beside you at the counter. “I couldn’t help but overhear the commotion. By all means, we will be more than happy to assist you with your money, Madame.” He sweeps his arm out towards one of the desks on the other side of the room and encourages you to follow him to sit. “Mr. Ferris,” he hisses back at the teller. “Stop badgering the customers! If the lady wants to open an account to secure her money here, then by all means, let’s assist her.”

The poor teller’s eyes shoot open. “Oh, I’m so sorry, miss, I…I didn’t mean anything by it,” he stammers, adjusting his thick glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry if I offended you. It’s just-”

“It’s just that you don’t see many women with such influence, I assume. Well, Mr. Ferris, you’d be surprised at what a woman can do.” And with an indignant flourish of your skirt, you spin on your heels to follow the other banker as he pulls out a chair for you to sit at his desk. Once he is sure you are comfortably seated, the banker fixes his tie and smooths his hand over his hair before taking a seat across from you. 

“I apologize, Mrs…” he leans towards you, eyebrows raised expectantly for the proper introduction. 

“Callahan. Mrs. Callahan,” you reply with yet another forced smile. 

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Callahan,” the banker confirms the name to himself, trying to work out if he recognizes it from affluent society circles. “So,” he clears his throat, “you need to set up an account with our bank, is that what I am understanding?”

“Yes, that’s right.” And you proceed to spin your web of lies about how you and your cattleman husband have traveled across the state to find a new ranch for your burgeoning cattle business that has grown two-fold in the past year. With new property in the process of being purchased, your husband is securing the land and overseeing the move of the herd, while you are here in town to get your affairs in order:  banking setup, food and provisions acquired, things of that nature.

You smugly watch the banker’s face grow more and more interested at the prospect of such a prosperous new client, as he eagerly takes notes as you speak. You lay it on thick, too, casually bragging about your fictitious husband’s endeavors, with a nonchalant wave of your dainty hand, but not so much as to be too unbelievable, just as the socialites and high-born used to do back east. 

It is amusing to you how easily you are able to slip back into the social lifestyle that you were so readily willing to leave behind. It’s always a matter of presentation and flourish, a constant upkeep of appearances. It’s that ‘cat and mouse’ game that you never cared for. You never thought you were that good at it, but it seems to be rather advantageous for you now. It is amazing to watch how eager and greedy people are, wanting to get a part of something that they themselves do not possess. Basically, you feed Mr. Bagby the life of one of the families you had known. You change the topic from “real estate” to “cattle” but it’s the same setup, the same panache. And just as enticing to the banker.

“Well, that sounds just fine. All well and good!” he replies excitedly. “We can certainly take care of you, Mrs. Callahan. My name is Mr. Bagby. Raymond Bagby. And if there is anything you or your husband need, well you just be sure and let me know.” His eyes light up at the idea of such a wealthy new prospect coming into town that he can latch his greedy fingers onto.

“Thank you, Mr. Bagby.” You give him a smug, self-satisfied little grin. “I do appreciate th-“

Suddenly, the doors to the bank are flung open and a handful of men with bandannas around their faces storm in. The small crowd of people gasp at the sight, with one of the older women stifling a scream. You jump in your chair at the loud commotion, your hand shooting to your chest. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery,” one of the men announces, his low gravelly voice commanding over the crowd of cowering townsfolk. He is broad and tall, with a leather trench coat that hangs off his frame perfectly. He brandishes a large pistol in each black gloved hand while a shotgun hangs conveniently across his wide back. “I highly suggest you keep quiet and cooperate and this will be over shortly.” He carries himself with a bravado and swagger, one that instantly lets everyone know that he is not to be questioned. His stony gaze passes over the collective group, alert to any minute movement.

Your eyes shift to the employees and patrons as they cower in fear. The look of horror skips across their faces as the realization that they could die right here and now settles into their scattered minds. 

“Everyone, down on their knees. Now!” another burly man shouts, his shotgun prominently displayed across his body. A few shrieks of panic echo through the room, but everyone quickly complies. 

“Everything will be alright, miss,” Mr. Bagby whispers to you, patting your hand in a feeble attempt to comfort you. “Just do as they say and you’ll be fine.”

You nod your head in understanding, averting your fearful eyes to the ground as you crouch down to the floor with the others.

The man who is apparently the ringleader of this event walks into the back where the vault is, his movement seems to glide in a way that belies a man of his stature, his calmness about such a thing almost unsettling. He points his gun at the row of tellers he passes before disappearing down the short hallway towards the safe. Meanwhile, the rest of his group stands at attention in his absence. One man wearing a dark gray hat and jacket stands guard at the door with his revolver at the ready, watching for any incomers. Two others survey the room, making sure no one tries anything stupid.

Until finally, the other large man with the shotgun lets his eyes land on you, sitting hunched up uneasily on the floor. 

“Well well, ain’t you pretty!” He strides over and leans down to get a better look at you. “Maybe you should keep my friend in the back company, hmm? He’s been awfully lonely lately,” he chuckles with a sickeningly sweet voice.

“I’d rather die!” you spit out stubbornly, pitching a heated glare at the man.

“Oh, that can be arranged, ma’am. I guarantee.” He reaches down and roughly grabs your arm, abruptly yanking you to your feet. You try to push against his burly chest, but the man is simply no match for you as he towers over your height. 

“Leave her be, you animal!” shouts Mr. Bagby. 

The robber seems more amused than anything at the empty threat, saying nothing but simply turns and points his shotgun at Mr. Bagby, the barrel inches from his face. A gasp of alarm escapes your lips, your heart leaping into your throat, as you are terrified that this is the moment when shots will start to be fired.  

“Please, don’t!” you shout in a panic, eyes blazing with a newfound fear in them as they dart back and forth between the two men.

All color drains from the banker’s thin face as his beady eyes slowly move from the end of the barrel up to you, and then back to the robber before he settles down into submission. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” chuckles the robber in smug satisfaction. He then proceeds to drag you across the room behind him as you desperately try to pry his thick fingers from your bicep. 

“I got a little something for you, my friend!” he announces as you make your way towards the vault room. The man kicks the door open with his heavy muddy boot and heaves you through the doorway before slamming the door closed behind you. 

You stumble into the room, recovering from the violent shove, and straighten up to come face to face with the other robber who watches you with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. A smile begins to form on your lips. 

“Is Bill always that handsy with women?” you ask.

Arthur pulls down his bandanna, exposing his face as he chuckles. “No. Actually, I think he’s afraid of ‘em, to be honest”.  

You’d be lying if you said that Arthur’s raw masculinity doesn’t excite you right now. The adrenaline that is pumping through your body is exhilarating, causing your whole body to tingle with electricity. And seeing Arthur calm and collected as if this were just another chore back at camp is an amazing thing to witness. 

It is hard not to stare at his thick muscled arms as he works over the surface of the grand safe. His face carries such intensity, making the green and amber flecks that ring his blue irises even more pronounced as if he were possessed by something otherworldly. Were it not for the group of innocent bystanders in the other room, the desire to reach out and touch him would consume you. 

But no time for that now. A quick shake to your head to refocus and you quickly walk to the back wall where the row of heavy safes are. Arthur works on the dial combination of the larger vault, while you pull a few pins out of your wristlet and begin picking the locks of the smaller, personal safes. Your heart beats loudly in your ears as your fingers work over the cool metal, knowing that the law could be upon you at any moment. 

Not a word is spoken between you and Arthur as you focus on your work, the only sounds in the room besides your nervous breathing are the gentle tinkling of the metal locks being forced open and the soft creaking of their door hinges. You manage to get four of the coffers open quickly with little issue. They are filled with cash and coins, jewelry, bonds and deeds, all of which get dumped into a large leather saddle bag. 

Arthur keeps track of the time as you work, periodically checking his pocket watch. He is always mindful not to get too greedy on these jobs. Best to stick to the timeline and get what you can, rather than push your luck and risk getting caught. The plan is to be in and out in fifteen minutes before the bank is due to close. ‘Live to fight another day’, as they say. And keeping a mental note in his head, Arthur determines that you’ve been here long enough. 

Deciding that the two of you have collected more than enough, Arthur adjusts the contents of the overstuffed saddle bag before he ties it shut. Smirking at you, Arthur pulls his bandanna back up over his face. 

“Ya done good, girl,” he praises as he hoists the saddle bags over his broad shoulders. “You ready to finish this?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Your voice is a quaking whisper, filled with nervous energy as the realization suddenly hits you that you still have to make it out of the bank, yet. Robbing the bank is one thing. Getting away with it is something else, entirely.

“Alright, then. Remember, just act natural, we’ll do the rest,” he nods to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm as you give Arthur a tentative smile in return. The look of nervous fear on your face is not much of an act, but of true feelings, to be honest. Your eyes rim with the slightest bit of moisture as your lashes begin to flutter with anxiety. Arthur quickly notices how your chest begins to rapidly float up and down and your fingers fidget against your palms.

“Hey,” he pulls his mask down again, stepping up closer to you until you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. His eyes are like the ocean, endless and all encompassing as he stands over you. “Remember our deal? You look out for me and I’ll look out for you. Got it?” His voice is low and calm, centering you before you get too lost in your thoughts of doubt or hesitation, for it is hesitation that will derail any best-laid plan.

The cool feeling of Arthur’s leather gloves against your tender skin as his heavy hand cups your face settles your nerves. And the worry begins to ebb away, knowing that you will be as safe as you can be with him. Arthur won’t ever let anything happen to you. And it is within this commanding, yet calming aura that the outlaw carries within himself that you can find a sense of peace. 

A quick, sharp breath gets pushed past your pink lips as your head gives a short nod in confirmation. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.” He winks as he pulls the bandanna up again. 

This is it, the grand finale. If you and Arthur can get the gang out of the bank in one piece, you’re gold.

Arthur abruptly opens the door again and roughly shoves you through it back towards the lobby for the last bit of the show. 

“Sit down!” he yells, tossing you to the floor in a heap into the middle of the room. “Goddamn useless woman!” You say nothing in return, hiding your face in what appears to be fear.

Arthur then turns his attention back to the room of nervous onlookers and fellow thieves. “Thank you kindly, people, for your cooperation. Sit still and quiet and no one will get hurt,” he announces with an all too casual tone. As his dusty boots carry him across the room, he strikes one of the cowering men in the face with the butt of his gun to make his point. 

“If anyone even thinks about leaving to go get the law, we’ve got a shooter on that rooftop over there.” Arthur points his gloved finger through the window. “He’ll drop you dead the minute you open that door.”

And just as quickly as it had begun, the group of bank robbers swiftly ducks out of the building without so much as a creaking floorboard in their wake. 

The group of you sit there on the floor of the bank, stunned and quiet, each looking at the door in case the thieves should decide to come back. After about five minutes, you are the one to break the stifling and tenuous silence.

“Are you all going to just sit there and let them rob us?!” you demand, scanning the faces of the patrons. You are quite the actress. If only Hosea could see you right now, how proud he would be. 

No one moves out of sheer fear, staring at you with the eyes of terrified lambs as if you are crazy-talking. ‘Good Lord, these people are ripe for the picking’ you think to yourself.

“Who’s ‘us’? You don’t have any money here, yet. Remember?” one of the women in attendance hisses at you. “Keep your mouth shut, or else you’ll get people shot!”

But you disregard her warning. “Go get the sheriff!” you screech at the man laying next to you, who just stares back at you with a dumbfounded expression plastered across his face. “Go!” you reiterate, waving your hand towards the door. With no one else stepping forward, you seize the opportunity to take control of the situation, hoping to draw the lawmen towards the bank and not out looking for the gang, buying them more time.

The poor man startles at the sound of your shrill voice and sprints to his feet as if he’s not sure if he is more afraid of the robbers or you. He trips over himself as he quickly makes his way across the room. He cautiously ducks his head as he opens the door, mindful of the shooter you were all warned about. Everyone else waits with paralyzing apprehension. When no shots are fired, the man proceeds to stumble out the door. 

Now that the tension is broken, the people are abuzz with activity. Loud, nervous chatter fills the lobby as one of the women rushes to the man Arthur had struck in the face earlier. Within a few moments, the local sheriff and a handful of lawmen come barreling in through the bank doors. 

“Alright everyone, calm down. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” the sheriff declares, trying to assess the situation. “Carl, take a few men and post them on either end of the town. If those sons-a-bitches are still here, they won’t get too far.” 

The sheriff proceeds to get statements from everyone in attendance and eventually makes his way to you. 

“This one, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby points at you as his agitated body ambles to stand next to you. “This lady was tossed in with that heathen.” 

“Is that so?” The sheriff eyes you up and down. 

“This is Mrs. Callahan, Sheriff,” Mr. Bagby nervously prattles on. “This here is Sheriff Langston, our top lawman, Ma’am.” You extend your arm to shake hands at the introduction. The sheriff is an average height, medium build, but nothing too impressive. He is clean-cut and neat, obviously taking his position of authority very seriously. 

“Are you alright, ma’am? Did they hurt you in any way?”

“No, no I’m fine,” you huff in an exasperated tone. “They just shoved me around, is all.”

“Any idea who they are? Where they may be headed? Did they say anything to you?” the lawman presses.

“How would I know?! I wasn’t exactly paying that close attention,” you snap in annoyance at the barrage of questions. “They were filthy, I can tell you that much. The big one had red mud caked all over his boots.”

“Red mud?” Langston ponders, turning to look at one of the deputies.

“Yes, red mud. Why?” Your eyebrows furrow in exaggerated agitation. 

The sheriff’s face twists up, lips pursed in thought for a moment as if piecing something together in his mind. “We have caves outside the western side of town. They’re covered in red clay. Would make a perfect hideout for a group of outlaws.”

“Not far from the rail line, too,” agrees the deputy. “That could be their way out, Frank.”

The sheriff nods in agreement. “Head on over there, see what you come up with.” The sheriff turns back to you with a self-satisfied smile. “Thank you, ma’am. You may have just led us right to those bastards.” (More like led them in the exact opposite direction of those bastards. And your heart settles a bit knowing that the law has taken your bait.)

“Good! Serves them right, attacking innocent people like that,” you snap with disdain dripping from your words like rainwater. A silent prayer of thanks rolls in your mind that not only does the sheriff not suspect you as an accomplice, but you have led them away from your friends, and more importantly Arthur.

Sheriff Langston looks you over, contemplating what to do with you next. “It’s getting dark soon. It won’t be safe for you to be walking around unchaperoned, especially since you’re a witness to a crime. These thieves may be looking for you.” His lips get pulled in slightly as he tentatively bites down in thought. “I don’t know what your plans are, ma’am, but you should stay here in town where I can keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s necessary,” you brush him off with a nonchalant wave, standing as if to take your leave. 

“‘Fraid I’m going to have to insist, ma’am.” The lawman moves to block you from the door, his hands held up and halting you where you stand. “We’ll escort you to the hotel for safe keeping. The owner there is a friend of mine. In fact, I’ll keep an eye on you myself, at least until your husband arrives, that is. It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve been through.” 

You can’t help but notice how his dark eyes cast over your form with a slight hint of a smile on his lips as he speaks. It’s slight, almost imperceptible, but you've seen that look in a man’s eyes before and a boulder drops on your stomach, making you slightly nauseous.

Shit. This was not part of the plan. And you have to be careful with how you handle this, as you are all on your own to do it. You expected to be questioned by the law, making sure that they have no information or lead to the gang, and then released. You are supposed to meet Arthur by the garden wall alongside the mill by nightfall. If you don’t show up, he’ll worry. And then God knows what he’ll do. 

“Alright, then. If you think that’s what’s best, Sheriff,” you reply with your best fake smile, hoping that the sheriff will take your uneasiness as a reaction to the robbery and not your reluctance to stay. You can’t seem too eager to leave. If the sheriff gets even an inkling that you were in on the job, he’d hang you for sure. A cold sweat begins to mist across your chest under the silk layers of your dress as your fingertips start to tingle and go numb. 

And so you concede to go along with whatever he suggests, playing the “innocent victim” as best as you can.

—----------------------------------

By the time everything is said and done at the bank, night has begun to drape its shadowy blanket upon the town. The moon casts its milky all-knowing eye over you and Sheriff Langston as you head down the steps of the bank together. Using a lantern to guide you, the sheriff's hand catches your elbow and leads you down the street and over to the hotel. You go along amicably, as to not rouse suspicion, and all the while, the sheriff babbles on and on with small talk in a feeble attempt at light flirtation. 

Arriving at the modest hotel, the lawman checks you in, the hotel owner assigning you a room with a nod. You graciously accept the key and quickly bid the sheriff goodnight. 

“Oh no, I’m going to have to stay with you while you’re here,” Langston asserts smoothly, leaving no room for argument.

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” you sputter, eyes shooting open to your hairline in shock at his brazenness. 

“What if someone tries to break in on you? No, I’ll feel much better if I have eyes on you at all times.”

“I’m sure you would,” you mumble. Desperately trying to mask your frustration, you turn and head up the stairs with the man in tow behind you. You only make it up to the third step before you feel his hand on your lower back. Your skin shudders at the touch of the sheriff’s fingertips, and you try not to bristle too much because of it. If Arthur were to see this, he’d surely plant his fist into the man’s face. And in the depths of your ever-tightening chest, you are not sure if that would be a bad thing or not. 

The hotel room is simple, but pleasant. But you have no designs on staying long. Your eyes skip about to take inventory of your surroundings, trying to devise a plan on getting the hell out of here before the sheriff gets too comfortable. You stand in the middle of the room, hands continuously turning over each other with a white-knuckled grip. 

Sheriff Langston must sense your apprehension, though. He studies you out of the corners of his eyes as he sets about the room to light the oil lamps, their amber glow quickly illuminating the space. “Can I get you anything while we’re here, miss?” he asks you in an attempt to put you at ease while in his presence. 

“Missus,” you pointedly remind him. “Mrs. Callahan.” You shoot him a stern look, giving him that unspoken warning that you are not ignorant and know exactly what it is that he’s hoping for. 

Langston smiles with faux innocence. “Right. Mrs. Callahan.”

“I’d love some hot coffee, please. If you don’t mind, Sheriff.”

“Sure. I’ll have the kitchen send some up.” He opens the door and steps out into the hall but your hopes plummet when instead of going down to get it himself, Sheriff Langston yells down the stairs to have coffee brought up for you. Damn. You were hoping to get him out of the room, giving you time to go out the window or something. The icy reality settles over you that this man will not be letting you out of his sight. 

After about ten minutes, one of the hotel maids arrives at the door with a tray with a steaming pot and two cups prettily displayed upon an embroidered linen. The sheriff takes the tray from the woman with a nod of thanks and places it down on the table in the middle of the room to allow you to fix yourself a cup. 

“There we are. This should do the trick,” he grins at you.

You offer a small smile in appreciation and float towards the table, careful to place yourself on the opposite side of him. Sheriff Langston circles around, striding over to the window located on the wall behind you. The fact that his dark gaze cascades over your backside as he passes is not lost on you, either. The sheriff casually pulls back the curtain with his two fingers, looking out into the street for any activity. 

“Do you like cream or sugar in your coffee, Sheriff?” you ask sweetly. 

“Just a bit of sugar, ma’am. I like sweet things.” The words purr from his lips with a slow and unsettling drawl.

“Of course, you do,” you reply with just the hint of sarcasm. Turning your back as you set out the two cups, your fingers pull a small vial of nightshade out of your cleavage. You thank the heavens that you thought to bring it and discreetly pour its contents into his cup. Adding the steaming dark liquid from the coffee pot overtop, you plunk a sugar cube in and sir until the contents are finely mixed. A gratified grin dusts your lips as you tap the silver spoon along the cup's porcelain edge. 

You turn around and stride across the floor, skirts swishing around your feet and hand the sheriff his cup with a demure little smile before sipping from your own. “How long do we have to wait here?”

“Until sunup,” Langston quips. “By then, I’ll check in with the boys and see if they tracked down that gang.” His eyes rake over you again as he sips from his cup, that same cold and uneasy feeling washing over you as your mind jolts to the knife Javier gave you that is tucked into your high-lace shoe. 

“Don’t you worry, ma’am, I’ll catch ‘em. I don’t abide by that sort of thing in my town. They think they can walk in here and rob me right under my nose and get away with it?” he scoffs.

“They robbed the bank, not you,” you remind him.

“Same difference.” Sheriff Langston offers a dismissive wave at your seemingly irrelevant point. “Either way, they ain’t getting away with it, mark my words. I'll shoot first and ask questions later if it comes to it.” He cocks his head just slightly, reaching up to remove his hat and tossing it on the bed behind you. “Not in my town.”

You nod in understanding and wander over to the balcony doors for some fresh air and to put some much-needed distance between the two of you. You step out onto the landing that overlooks the street below, trying to get away from the sheriff's incessant staring. You are desperately hoping the nightshade kicks in before this sheriff gets bolder with his obvious interest in you. The sheriff is not a large man, such as Arthur or Bill, but he is still larger than you and your mind begins to search for ways to defend yourself if necessary. With your hands resting on the railing, you look out over the side and anxiously sigh. 

While lost in your thoughts, your gaze falls to the shadows of the mercantile building across the street. Smoldering in the dark there, you notice the red pin-point glow of a cigarette end. Squinting to get a better look, you see a figure cloaked in the darkness, and softly smile as you instantly recognize the silhouette of the broad shoulders that you know so well. The silvery moonlight highlights the edges of that familiar worn gambler’s hat and your anxiety instantly melts. A wave of relief washes over you and you suddenly feel more emboldened, knowing that your beloved is mere feet from you should you need him. You are not alone. You never were.

Knowing the sheriff is behind you, you carefully lift your hands slightly off the rail and flatly cross them in front of you, a signal to Arthur not to come for you as it’s not safe for him. But he’s seen you and knows that you’re okay, at least for now. So he’ll wait, watching vigilantly over you until he can get you out of town safely.

—-------------------------------

A few hours go by, and you quietly collect yourself to head out of the room. The sheriff sits slumped over in a chair, the white coffee cup laying precariously on the floor next to him, deposited there by the hand that dangles limply above it. He’ll be knocked-out for a bit, with a nasty headache when he wakes, but you’ll be long gone by then.

The sun is nowhere close to being up yet. The whole hotel is dark with the inhabitants slumbering quietly in their rooms, the occasional snoring to be heard behind closed doors. Creeping down the stairs, you move slowly and carefully as your feet pad soundlessly upon the wooden steps. You glide imperceptibly past the front desk where the clerk is sleeping with his feet propped up on the wood, passed out in a deep slumber. Just a few more feet and you are able to slink out the front door with no one the wiser.

You cautiously step out into the street, looking both directions for any signs of life. Everything is dark and empty, not even a stray dog out at this time of night. The faint sounds of the night owls in the trees is the only thing to indicate that time has not stopped altogether. With a sigh of relief, you begin to head down the road towards the edge of town. Since no one is awake and out yet, you should be able to walk right out without even being noticed. The only witnesses to your escape are the shimmering stars above as they hang in the ink-black sky.

And it doesn’t take too long before you hear the melodic beat of a horse’s hooves behind you and that familiar voice that you are waiting to hear. 

“You lost, pretty lady?” 

The gravelly voice floats in the air like a tether to anchor yourself to. You close your eyes and release a slow exhale of gratitude, knowing that you are indeed safe now. Your flower-petal lips turn up into a soft and comforted smile at the very thought of your protective cowboy being a mere breath’s distance from you.

“Nope.” A contented sigh escapes your chest. “I know exactly where I need to be.” 

You slowly turn around and look up at the handsome rider as he leans out on the saddlehorn. Even in the dark, you can see Arthur’s beautiful eyes as the moonlight shines down and casts his body in a silvery backlight, the edge catching upon his face. 

“I could use a ride, though.” Your whole face radiantly lights up at your statement as the two of you stand quiet for a moment, taking each other in. 

A sense of deep pride fills you as one thought rings prominently in your mind above all others:  ‘I did it.’

**ok I know this isn’t my best work. Writer’s block is a cruel bitch. But, this is meant to be a turning point in my reader’s/oc’s development. Things will get harder from here, as we will get into the game story now, with the events of Blackwater coming up.

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*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know. There are a few that would not let me link, so I apologize if this doesn’t ping some people.