#and he also made me into the die-on-any-hill person i am today

[thatpunnyperson]

You’re dad sounds so cool! What a nerd (affectionate)

He is SUCH a nerd (affectionate). My grandparents showed me a picture of him at age 7 or something recently, where he was tinkering with a radio he'd built. Man is the epitome of "find what you love doing and then find a way to get paid for doing it" and now that he's more of a manager rather than in the lab himself, his stress-reducing hobbies include building radios and tinkering with electronics. He's gotten to work on some really cool projects over the years, but this recent one that will be launching in 2024 (hopefully) is a particular favorite of his.

Also, when I was a kid, he had literally modified his BMW convertible to have a bunch of antennas on it hooked up to radios inside the car, mounted to the dashboard. He literally had a 10 foot antenna sticking off the back of this nice-ass cherry red cloth-top BMW 325 convertible, and that was only ONE of the antennas he had on that car. He DRILLED A HOLE INTO THE TRUNK so he could run wiring between a radio by the driver's seat and a different, slightly smaller antenna. He also got that car new and put almost 300k miles on it before it catastrophically failed, so that tells you a bit about who he is as a person.

Anyway, my dad is a wild son of a gun and I'm gonna surprise him with moon landing themed stuff because the moon landing made him want to get into space stuff in the first place.

[colorfullyminded]

TLDR

Okay I cannot believe I'm about to go off like this, but this has been bothering me for awhile, and it's only making me more spiteful. I have been enjoying the influx of Billford art lately. Amazing, great wonderful. What I have Not been enjoying, is the absolute vitriol the Billdip fans have been getting since the influx of TBOB. I was a billdip shipper for awhile. Hell I was a billdip shipper when I was a Parapines shipper-- I liked shipping Dipper with boys. I was also like 14 or 15 at the time. Obviously, if you follow me now, you'll probably notice what my main ship for Dipper is. I grew out of Billdip, and moved on to Pinescone. I have been shipping Pinescone for 10 years. However, not once did I go around saying "Lol, glad I matured and became a better person and shipped something healthier", nor did I post in the billdip tag, condeming people for a fictional ship! And saying mine was better because it was less problematic.

"I'm really glad people stopped shipping Bill and Dipper together. Bill is a 1000 year old triangle demon, and Dipper is 13--" Stop. Repeat what you just said.

"Bill is 1000 year old triangle--"

Repeat that last word to me. "....triangle?" TRIANGLE! I'm sorry what?! This ship is already completely wild enough. You're getting mad at this fictional age gap-- AND BILL IS A FUCKING SHAPE! A FUCKING SHAPE! This ship was weird from the moment GO! And Billford isn't any better. IT'S STILL A SHIP WITH A FUCKING SHAPE! And you're going to sit on your high horse and look down on the Billdip community. On top of it-- they have an age gap too! Bill is still thousands of years old or whatever-- however long it's been, who knows? And Ford was in his 20s or so when he met Bill. That's still a huge, ridiculous age gap-- that Bill could easily use and manipulate; which he did....and then also caught feelings and became a sad ex, but that's beside the point~ Both of these ships are still insane. And again, the bigger thing I think people are just ignoring about these ships--is that Bill is a TRIANGLE! THREE LINES CONNECTED TOGETHER! And this is the hill you're going to die on? ...Cause apparently it's mine. First of all-- as many people pointed out-- Ford Pines did not exist until the second half of the final season. People couldn't ship Fordbill because there wasn't any Ford to introduce.

"Well, even before Ford, I never shipped Billdip! I always disliked it." ...Okay, that's totally fine. Not everyone needs to like or agree on the same ship. Lord knows there's probably people who don't really care for Pinescone either. There's a lot of popular ships that I can't stand. But I'm don't go into a ship tag I don't like, screaming to a void for self validation. I don't go around mocking other people for ships that they had in 2014-- or even still today! It doesn't matter! I did that when I was a kid-- and then realized that was rude, and it was better to just ignore the ships I didn't like and enjoy the ones that made me happy. And grow a community of kind, like minded friends. And listen, I am all for safe spaces and being able to block things that make you uncomfortable. I am not saying people who find the BillDip ship uncomfortable to be idiots or babies or overly sensitive-- or anything like that. I think if something makes you uncomfortable, that is okay and I think it's perfectly fine to blacklist a tag that you don't want to see. I also think it's imperative that people tag things as accurately as they can so people looking at your work can know if one of your pieces has a thing that they don't like-- and therefore can avoid. What I don't appreciate is the fanhate for this ship that is sprouting up like weeds. You can not like something, you can be disgusted by it (I have my Gravity Falls ships I can not stand, nor do I feel comfortable with), but attacking real people for a FICTIONAL SHIP-- two characters who are drawings on a piece of paper and can not be affected mentally, physically or emotionally by fanwork; who still retain the same shape after everything we put them through-- to the point that you send death threats, or threaten to Doxx, or just harass relentlessly, I have always found that more childish and disgusting. You are causing real world pain to people. Me fucking up Dipper Pines is not going to do anything to him-- because he doesn't actually exist. He's a cartoon character. I could squash him and stretch him in Wonka's taffy machine--- I could throw him mock speed at a wall and watch him explode on impact-- but he still exists. He's not dead; I can pick him up and dust him off, and If I wanted-- I could decide that eh, 'Not a scratch on him'. And I'd be right. Because he is a cartoon character, and I am just a fangirl. I can not change anything about him-- I have no ability to make anything I headcanon canon. And even if I was the original artist-- it doesn't change the fact that Dipper would still be nothing more than a creation. A construct of shapes; he can not be hurt or traumatized in a way that leads to real life consequences-- because he is not real. I am not a cartoon character. My friends are not cartoon characters. Artist and Writers who stay in their lane...are not cartoon characters. If you hurt us...it will linger. It will leave a scar. If you can not tell the difference between Fiction and Reality, then I think maybe media might be too much to handle-- and I think you need to really reevaluate yourself.

And just to vent some other things that i keep seeing that are frustrating: You can't claim the twins are only 13-- and then on August 31st go "Happy 20-something Birthday Mabel and Dipper!" And then proceed to drop a picture of them as adults. Well which is it? Do they age or not? Because Gravity Falls showed them canonically aging. If you think the twins age-- then you can't suddenly turn around and go, 'no you can't ship them-- Dipper is a child!' but you drew him as an adult. So sorry, it looks like you can't draw the twins grown up anymore. You claimed they're 13, so better draw them 13 forever--. Aged up stories and works exist for a reason, especially for a fan who grew up on the series. The characters might have grown up alongside them. It's not unlikely for a person to ship Billdip when Dipper is much older.

And on that note, for people who are like 'well older billdip is fine-- it's just people shipping him during the show that deserve to die.' Okay... and like I said, this rant is coming from a recent influx of Billford shippers spitting on Billdip shippers. You know? The TOXIC Old Man Yaoi!

You're still shipping something that is problematic. You are still shipping something twisted and wrong. And I am not judging you. I am here for this divorced arc. I am thriving. But you can't just pick and choose what is and isn't okay. And let me first off explain; if there is something that personally triggers you about a toxic ship, and you want to avoid that-- again, perfectly understandable. Perfectly reasonable. You are the makers of your content space. And I am not judging anyone for that. I want people to be safe. I want people to have a good time in fandom spaces. I want people to not have to deal with the things that upset them or frighten them, or disgust them. But you can not say one is fine, and one is not. They're both bad! They're both toxic. In real life, these ships would both be charged with serious crimes! And yes, there are some crimes that are worse than others, and if you asked me what I thought was more problematic-- I'd say Billdip-- but both of these ships are extreme, and severe in their problematic content. You are still consuming problematic content. If it's a personal thing, that's fine; avoid it. But don't sit there throwing stones from your glass house.

[hectic-hector]

I am not naming any of her victims out of respect for their privacy and safety, but if they wish to come forward in the comments, they are free to do so. I've been informed that @angelbabyspice has gone through her feed to delete the posts she has made for the sole purpose of mocking and bullying people, which doesn't surprise me. I do not condone doxxing bullies or threatening to contact their employers (except in extreme circumstances where local law enforcement should also be involved, e.g. terroristic threats, stochastic terrorism, intentionally driving a person to become suicidal). I hope @angelbabyspice sees this message, because I want to tell her a few things: 1. "I don't want to see it" Nobody is forcing you to see it. You are free to scroll right past it, just as we are free to blaze a post if we so wish. We all see things we don't want to see, but we are smart enough to know that we have the ability to look away and move on with our lives. You are making the choice to not only look at art you don't like, but to obsess over it to the point that you spend hours of your time harassing those who create and share it. You are choosing to do this to yourself when you could have just kept scrolling and forgotten about it. This is on you. Don't blame other people for YOUR issues. 2. You had said in another post that people should at least lust after someone "fuckable" like Gojo. I looked him up, and he is as generic-looking an anime character as they come, in my personal opinion. But that's all it is: my opinion. I would never mock you or anyone else for being a fan. If I don't have something nice to say, I don't say anything at all, because I know how it feels to be mocked and ridiculed for my love of a fictional character, and unlike you, I DO NOT want to make other people feel the same way. 3. So, you're really tired of getting messages from people who claim you're "trolling", eh? You ARE trolling, in fact you're straight up bullying with the sole intent of trying to make people ashamed of their own completely harmless hobbies and interests for no reason at all. You. Are. Trying. To. Hurt. People. Where on earth did you get the idea that what you're doing is even remotely okay? Where did you get the idea that your victims are demented and YOU'RE the rational one? 4. WE'RE really tired of YOU making dozens of posts about us in order to mock us behind our backs. It doesn't need to be a direct message. What you are doing is cowardly and cruel. There is NOTHING to be gained by treating people the way that you do. You are literally complaining about the fact that we are standing up for ourselves against your smear campaigns, which we are all well within our rights to do. You have a lot of nerve trying to make yourself out to be the victim in all of this. YOU made the choice to be a bully; you can make the choice to stop, own up to what you've done, apologize, and move on in a healthier direction in life. Wouldn't you rather have friends and allies than enemies? 5. I have no idea who doxxed you, but I know it's not the person you suspect, because we are both very much AGAINST doxxing. I am sorry that happened to you, but honestly, what did you expect? You have done nothing on Tumblr but go out of your way to treat other people like garbage. You have proudly made it your mission to hurt and humiliate them, and you know this. Where on earth did you get the idea that this wouldn't backfire on you? 6. Actions have consequences. Respect must be earned. You are bullying innocent people whose hobbies have NO effect on you whatsoever. There are so many horrible things happening in the world today: war, famine, hate crimes, animal abuse, child abuse, etc. etc., but total strangers sharing their love for fictional characters is the hill you are choosing to die on? Really? Churchill once said that a person is only as big as the things that make him mad. Think about what this says of you.

[thebahwrites]

For the “an ask game ft niche questions i don’t see very often” I would like your thoughts on my all time favorite: Iceman!!!! I just love him so much

have I said today yet I love you? ❤️❤️❤️here are my objectively correct personal opinions on Iceman no one COME FOR ME

an ask game ft niche questions i don’t see v often (send me a character)

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky (more under the cut so I don't bother anyone)

a song that reminds me of them the REASON it took me so long to answer this one is precisely because I am so picky with songs and it took me FOREVER to get to this one but I finally got the right one: Be Yourself - Audioslave Even when you've paid enough Been pulled apart Or been held up Every single memory of The good or bad, faces of love Don't lose any sleep tonight I'm sure everything will end up alright You may win or lose But to be yourself is all that you can do I actually love this song so much and the entire Out Of Exile album reads Iceman to me in different ways but this one? It's this one.

what they smell like I think it's a common kinda-canon/fanon thing with the coconut scented stuff because it shows up in the movie??? Won't say I don't subscribe to it but I'll add further: I think once my mans gets over smelling axe bodyspray or some random tropical shit because it was the easiest, closest available thing, I'll just say he favors the sweet-scented stuff. Coconut, pineapple, cinnamo, cardamom, orange if we go further but mostly remaining on the sweeter side of the aisle.

an otp Yeah we all know I'm down that IceMav train but I WILL say Iceman/Slider is almost right up there for me. Almost, though. Because I just love Icemav way too much. They're meant to be, your honor. They're rivals, they're insane, they're at each other's throats 36 years down the line and love each other so much. I WILL write about it.

a notp Don't think I've read anything with Ice that physically made me recoil but as per usual: Ice with the younger folks just is a no for me because ~I don't see it~. I've recently been presented with a couple of those possibilities and it wasn't for me!

favorite platonic/familial relationships Ice/Slider (when not a ship) OBVIOUSLY, that's his brother, that's his best buddy aside from Maverick, that's his sweet cheese, that's HIS BOY. Also Ice and Goose!!!! Everyone forgets they went to school together!!! They were friends!!!! And yet again I'll die on the Iceman/Hangman hill that no one want to hear from me but I WILL die on it.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with oh boy. There's quite the handful of them but I think the most... like, how do I put it, it's just sort of a fanon consensus thing that Iceman is a full rule-abiding stickler/is somehow detached from things and I just. Disagree. I think Ice to ME reads as truly 'lawful neutral' - he follows codes and abides to things such as honor and respect but by HIS OWN STANDARDS. He also happens to have goals (i.e. rank climbing, etc) and knows what he needs to do to get there, so of course he's 'ice cold, no mistakes' when it comes to flying, because it makes him good. And he needles Maverick about being dangerous and leaving people behind but doesn't actually calls him out on his rule-following issues, he calls him out on behavior. I think people confuse those. So much so that in TGM Cyclone says Maverick wasn't even originally CONSIDERED for the list of whoever would teach the squad but Ice dragged him there because they needed someone who could: think outside the box & believe themselves able to pull off impossible features. No one, not even Ice, who flies within a strict ruleset could do it and that to me is the greatest strength between Iceman and Maverick. You've got Ice as a guy who allows himself to be limited by rules and regulations in a way because he has a goal and you got a guy who doesn't have the same goal so those same rules would limit him. And yes I rambled I THINK ABOUT THIS A LOT OKAY.

the position they sleep in On his stomach, a little curved, either hugging a pillow or someone. I will not elaborate. <3

a crossover au i’d love to see them in bro, SO MANY and I think I've cited them all already but I'll say it again: PACIFIC RIM. A PACIFIC RIM THING WITH THE '86 FOLKS, on my desk, RIGHT NOW. Though maybe some kind of western too because young Val as a cowboy has me-[GUNSHOT]

my favorite outfit they’ve ever worn Ngl, the beach getup is slutty enough. But also he looked so damn good in the dress whites so, take ya pick.

[dumplingsjinson]

sooooo, i know i said i wasn't going to post anything personal, at least in regards to my dating life, on here but lo and behold! i'm a liar, but the person who found out about this account might never go onto my blog again (if you're here for some reason then hi? idk why you'd come back here but okay. i hope you're okay. and if you're not, i hope you will be okay. and also, this is NOT about the long distant guy that maybe one or two of you are familiar with). so, here goes: we broke off whatever it was that was going on. i don't like them back that way, and i don't see myself liking them back that way in the foreseeable future.

so we broke it off on good terms.

we're not going to talk anymore, and it definitely will take time getting used to since we did text back and forth everyday for the past two months, up until today. it will take time to get used to not seeing their name on my phone constantly, or waking up to their messages, but it'll eventually go back to how it used to be, when we never spoke before.

i admittedly do feel a little empty as of right now, which is a me issue entirely. maybe i'm dealing with the sadness of losing a connection i've made with someone? maybe i don't deserve to feel this sadness. i don't know. there was definitely a bit of a connection there, though ephemeral, even if it wasn't a romantic one. i think (i know) i'll be okay, and i really, really hope they'll be okay, too (because rejection doesn't feel good. it's never an easy pill to swallow, knowing you're not the one for that someone. it doesn't feel good to reject someone, either).

i think it'll be good for the both of us in the long run.

i'm still processing this whole thing, but i think it'll be okay soon. :) and i hope they find someone who will like them back, just as much, and if not, more, because they're someone who truly deserves that.

goodbyes aren't easy, and they hurt even when it comes to short-term bonds that were formed. that's all i can say.

(also that whole unmatch thing rant in which i've deleted by now is because i got my feelings hurt for like a day, and then i got over it really quick lmfao. i was talking to some other guy i matched with, and we vibed for a few days, and then he unmatched while we were setting up the date and that hurt translated into frustration and anger and a bruised ego, but i'm okay now, and to whoever said it was a bad break up or something - it wasn't lmao, i was just being a little wuss and had to vent. but i will die on the hill on how you're an asshole if you unmatch without any explanation, especially when you're in the middle of setting up a date. you're just bad at communication and it really, really shows. please work on that if that's what you do to other people, because it's never fun being on the receiving end of being basically ghosted.)

anyway, i'll try to post another prompt list tonight. these babies are pre-written, so my mood right now's not gonna affect them aha.

i will probably post more of my love life (read: online hoe life) again to the one person who bothers reading this shit, simply because nothing's stopping me, and i ALSO am NEVER going to be so dumb to accidentally give too many hints and reveal my tumblr like that to someone ever again lmfaooo. my mask stays ON, bitches!!

(and on an entirely different note that's not so fucking depressing and also very non-serious, i'm going on a date this sunday, and we're going to have oysters lmfao - i might end up calling him oyster dude - but i also don't have much expectations lmfao. they did ask me if we're still on for sunday just earlier today, and i said yes, but i'm prepped for getting unmatched outta no where because some of you men are Cowards. aNYWAY.)

this was a rollercoaster and a very undelightful mess, i'm tired, i have to wake up at 5:30 am tomorrow for work, two of my brackets came fucking loose so i have to go to the ortho on monday to get that fixed, and i lowkey wanna die because of that, goodBYEEE.

[beeseverywhen]

There's a guy from the flats next door and he's always like really friendly acts like he really knows me when I bump in to him and ppl are always like oh who's that and I have to be like I don't really know? He lives near me? He's nice?

Honestly I feel kinda bad cause I'm always nice but I'm definitely not reciprocating the same level of friendliness and it's not that I don't like him! It's just that like. I don't consider him to be a neighbour neighbour. I'm reserving the effort for like ppl I have to share a building with. I think he would really like to live in our building (fuck knows why. his neighbours are a lot less intense than mine and they seem to cause a lot less problems) maybe I just don't see it but he puts in a lot of effort towards getting to know us and i haven't seen him do the same for the ppl who live in his building (but then when would I see that I guess)

Anyway today I got home and he like shouted across the car park like 'OH hello! How are YOU?' And the ppl I was with were kinda edging for a introduction but like...I don't know this mans name! He knows mine! But I don't have any memory of his (I'm sure he's given it. He's nice like that. Either way it's been years of him acting like we're friends. He asks after me when he sees my relatives (they are also his neighbours and he's equally friendly to them, though they seem to be doing a better job of reciprocating than me tbh) It's far too late to ask by now. The only ppl I've seen him be this friendly with are anyone who lives in my building, or my relatives (and that's to be expected they are friends with everyone in the surrounding Postcodes)

So yeah I feel like I'm letting this guy down a bit. Usually I'd be the first to return someone's friendliness and strengthen our friendship. Maybe this is a potential close friendship that I'm missing out on??? By not responding in like? He could be my future best friend? Who knows?

The thing is tho. When it comes to befriending neighbours I have a bit of a don't shit where you eat attitude. I think having a good relationship with your neighbours is a good thing! It's nice to feel like you are living in a community. However. To me neighbours are like extended family. I want to be close to them but in a very different way to how I'm close to my friends. My neighbours get my family fronting persona. It's like. On a scale of close friends (no holds barred) to customer service rep (all age rating. Patience of a saint. Expert in conflict resolution-someone trying to start an argument will hit the brick wall of my friendly but firm negotiation tatics), how I am with family and neighbours falls somewhere in between. I'm me, but I'm a bit more restrained. Less swearing. Less willing to die on a hill. I just think, if we fall out, I still have to live alongside them. I'm slightly less fun, and my personality is a bit more reigned in, cause I don't want to risk stumbling over any personality clashes you know?

Maybe this is just me introducing rules for things that don't need rules? I could be missing out on some great friendships here. My dad has made lifelong friends with multiple neighbours in places he's lived over the years (and never really lived anywhere more than a few years). Now he's moved country some of them fucking fly out to visit him. He considers his neighbours house to be an extension of his own. If he's putting you up in the spare room there's a 40% chance that's not actually a spare room in HIS house. The neighbours kids and my dads kids are a package deal, have to find them for dinner? You better check rooms in both the houses. And that's nice, more friends is always good! But I've also seen him make enemies of multiple neighbours over the years and I just think I'd rather miss out on potential friendship if it can save me from THAT. Friendly enough that we're there for each other in a tight situation, not so friendly that most of them don't try to give me life advice (the people in my building do like to do this, but that's because they have no respect for boundaries, not cause I invite it. As I said. It's like extended family. Everyone has a few aunties and cousins who like to give unasked for uninformed advice.)

[askrockandfriends]

From various portals, Wario, Waluigi, Cable, Wolverine, Bridget, and Shadow emerged. The Wario Bros. and Shadow used their natural fighting abilities to deal with the onslaught of goons while Cable, Wolverine, and Bridget used their weapons and powers, aided by people like Team RWBY and the Investigation Team.

A bunch of the soldiers found themselves being suddenly lifted in the air. As they did, Tatsumaki floated out of a portal and sneered, slamming them all into the wall. Saitama then casually walked through the portal, with an expression that looked to be a mix of unimpressed and annoyed.

"Oh, no... don't you start the party without us!" Luffy, Brook, and Zoro emerged with Luffy stretching his arms out and taking out multiple soldiers and assassins with punches. Brook and Zoro drew their swords and charged in.

"Oh, no, you are not upstaging us!" Nearby, however, Naruto, along with Gaara, Hinata, Inojin and Iwabee, burst out of a portal. Hinata scanned the field using her Byakugan, while Naruto used his Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu. Gaara sent out his living sand which messed with Goh and his army in various ways... together with the Pokemon, Stands, and assortments of other powers, there were numerous upon numerous ways a person working under Goh could die on the battlefield today.

"Pah, you're really gonna send an old ape like me out here to do this? You youngsters really are something else, you know that?" Cranky Kong, with Funky Kong following, slowly walked out of a portal and observed the field, not liking what he was seeing. "Look at this! It's a mess! How is anyone supposed to follow a disorganized pile of characters like this? This nonsense makes the Avengers look organized! Boy, I remember the simpler times when it was just one main muse and maybe some NPCs to fill out the story..." But as he was ranting, a massive flame burst erupted from the portal where Mario, Luigi, Wario, and Waluigi emerged from as some soldiers approached it. From that portal then emerged none other than Bowser, who roared and made a beeline for any of Goh's men he could find. Eggman then emerged from Sonic's portal, and King K. Rool emerged from Cranky Kong's portal, both with weapons drawn and ready to fight. They joined the others like Heavy, who were also using guns to mow down enemies.

Cranky Kong wasn't the only old character to appear, though. Yoda emerged from a portal elsewhere and used his lightsaber and Force abilities to cut down the enemy forces. After he entered the fray, soldiers near that portal got a sudden, sharp sense of fear and dread... and soon, a red lightsaber ignited, and Darth Vader emerged, cutting down everyone near the portal and everyone who got within range of him without mercy! Some soldiers began to ask "There's too many of them? What do we do, Boss?"

"I'll tell you hwhat you do, son: stand there patiently while I kick your ass!" Suddenly, before Goh could answer, Hank Hill had appeared and was, quite literally, kicking that soldier's ass, as he fled in a comedic manner.

"He is right, though... this is getting a little ridiculous-D'OIII!" Suddenly, some bricks dropped on Goh's head, stunning him briefly.

*Honk* How did a GOOSE get in here? It was standing next to a rope, presumably the one holding up a girder the bricks were on. Rock snickered realizing the waterfowl's prank. Next to the goose with his Ludicolo at his side was Miror B... who was just dancing, for some reason.

Then, from a trash can, Majima emerged, eyeing the carnage. "Oh, am I a little late to the party? My apologies..." His tune then changed when he saw a certain someone fighting his way through the chaos. "Huh? HEEY, KIRYU-CHAN!" After saying that, he jumped out and joined Kiryu on the field in a flash!

[etherealising]

someday i will be caught up on this story, not today, but someday lol. although i almost don’t want to be caught up because i so look forward to reading these chapters and i’ve loved having a new one to read everytime i get the chance.

this crack fic will always be here waiting for you!! right like sometimes you just wanna save things even though you also need to know what happened!!

ooooomph. i felt that one in my chest. you have a stellar way of putting emotions that i’ve felt into words.

honestly writing this fic has made me feel like i knew mikey personally (crazy i know) and so i just write what i think the characters would be feeling lol

STOP IT RN this is so goddamn cutie. nat is such a queen for making sure that this polaroid didn’t get shoved to the back of the closet and got a spot on the mantle as it deserves. i totally understand baby for wanting to just shove it all down, but you’re right, she needs to feel it as it comes so she can process it and move on.

yes nat is baby’s number one supporter and she is just fighting so hard for baby to get through this, like she understands exactly where she’s coming from but she just wants the best for her!

oh goD NOT THE VOICEMAIL. so scared to find out what that entails.

it will be a journey…

holy shit. i knew it was going to be bad but i feel so sad for baby - this is next level stuff. for both her sake and for plot purposes (gots to get her in carmys vicinity) i’m glad she’s back in a place with a support system. AND HER OVERDOSING? she really is spiraling in a dangerous direction. nat(and pete) is the unsung hero of this story, and i didn’t know it was possible but i love her that much more. also i really love how you aren’t trying to sugarcoat any of the dark themes, you’re embracing them and aren’t afraid to get into the nitty gritty reality of it all.

this was a really hard decision for me to make, because like i’ve seen addiction firsthand and what it does to people, so i was like if i’m gonna do this it can’t just be a plot point like there needs to be meaning behind this. i’m still iffy about it, but this fic is kind of a way for me to idk express what being around addicts is like and what it’s like to love them.

this is a beautifully haunting sentence. that is all.

cannot lie genuinely cry everytime i re-read it

ITS HAYDEN WHAT!!! i was worried for baby for a second there. i love that he’s back in this. he was such a stand up guy before and his pretense is going to make carmy have to put in that much more work (if there’s one thing i love it’s a groveling man)

bestie the groveling will be immaculate (and so will the dick measuring contest between these two)

curious to know if you have any face claim for hayden? like this line painted a vivid image of hayden in my brain and i’m curious who you see him as!

okay so i’ve talked about this with another person and my initial image was Danny Ramirez because wowza, but then i watched kick ass and fell back into my Aaron Taylor Johnson Brainrot and we kind of decided on him (specifically in his Tangerine era) but now that I’m responding Miles Teller as bradley Bradshaw could totally fit this too!!!

but if you have any face claim inspo for Hayden i am all ears!!!

we love a self sufficient queen!

right, like girly knows her worth!

ahhhh i’ve been wondering where we were falling back into the story and i LOVE that you chose here, carmy is a bit more established in himself and the bear and the staff will all also be pretty established. can’t wait to see baby and syd interact fr. (i am a lil nervy about claire tho i can’t lie)

yes i wanted to interweave original material into the canon verse, but definitely homeboy’s a little calmer lol. i love syd and I’m so excited for her scenes with baby she is the biggest shipper of barby (second to nat of course)

is that even a good ship name lol

richie absolutely would give the BEST hugs, this is 1000% fucking canon to me. i will die on this hill.

he and Mikey are definitely the go to for hugs and no one can change my mind.

you definitely nailed syds tone - i love it already!

i needed this validation because writing for these characters is so hard especially syd and carmy

stay out of this carmy the adults are talking

he just wants the love of his life to notice him.

yikes so he doesn’t even know? he’s that far removed now? my boy is absolutely going to say something stupid like when her mom died and he DIDNT KNOW. they never learn.

idk how many chances we can keep giving the kid

sometimes i want to punch his sexy little face

punch it and then kiss it all better afterwards.

THIS LINE HAS ME SO GIDDY OH MY GOD. i feel like we just entered act ii of the story and i am beyond excited about it. god this is just so good and i am on the edge of my seat the whole time.

we are definitely in our act ii era and things might just get messier…

chapter four | to burden natalie berzatto

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: platonic!natalie berzatto x f!reader | slight carmen berzatto x f!reader | slight the bear crew x f!reader | male!oc x f!reader |

summary: your lack of competent decision-making after mikey’s death puts natalie in a compromisng position.

warning(s): substance abuse | overdose | grief | self-sabotage | angst | humor as coping mechanism | one mention of ativan | unintentional self-harm | blood | hospitals | scars | mention of treatment centers | rehab | recovery | thoughts of relapsing | appreciation of natalie berzatto | avoidance of grief | selfishness | memory loss | unhealthy grieving mechanisms | PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

wc: 8.1k

please remeber you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any warnings trigger you DO NOT READ!

The smooth music filtered out of the record player, a rich voice singing through the house painting the atmosphere with a calm vibe. The two occupants were gathered in the living room, sifting through the last of the boxes that contained small decorations and keepsakes. Discussing what would look best where and what should have been left behind in the move.

You looked over your shoulder to check on Nat, her sudden silence cause for concern. Circling over to her you realized what had stolen the words from her lips. You maneuvered to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the framed photo in her hands, the two of you silently reminiscing.

You placed your head on her shoulder as she let out a quiet sniffle, her emotions heightened due to her condition. “You looked so beautiful that night,” you let out a quiet laugh before moving to stand next to Nat, eyes still focused on the framed Polaroid in her grip.

It had been a year and it still wasn’t easy to look at any pictures of Mikey without feeling like your chest would cave in. You hadn’t seen this particular picture since his passing, the grief too much, all memories painting your west coast apartment shoved into a nondescript box.

You understood now why it was so important to label your boxes when moving. If the box in front of Nat had some type of label on it, you knew for sure it already would’ve been shoved into the dark recesses of your closet.

“You can just put that one back in the box,” you left Nat’s side to continue going through your box, pulling out the book designated to sit on your coffee table.

Natalie watched you from her side of the living room, a small scowl painting her face as she watched you so easily disregard a memory that had once been so special to you. She looked back down at the picture, your bright smile staring back at her as Mikey and Richie leaned in to kiss your cheeks. A fond memory of the three of you the night of your senior prom.

Looking back at you one last time Nat let out a sigh before walking over to the mantle and setting it on the corner, visible for everyone to see. She understood how much Mikey’s death affected you, but there was no way you could heal from the hurt if you never allowed yourself to live in the uncomfortability of grief. It was something you had to want for yourself.

Nat had half the mind to keep digging through the box, eyes catching on another memory. Not wanting to sour the first night in your new home, she replaced the cover, doing her best to act as though she wasn’t curious about the box of memories.

The doorbell rang as you were looking for a place for the picture of you and your mom at your college graduation. Carefully sitting it on your coffee table you made your way to the door making sure to grab your wallet on the way. You opened the door to see the pizza delivery person standing there, giving them the money and a tip before thanking them.

“Oh that smells delicious,” you laughed as Nat followed behind you to your decent-sized kitchen. The two of you grab plates and a slice of pizza before heading to your couch.

Setting your plate on the coffee table, you left to quickly grab two wine glasses and the sparkling cider Natalie and Pete bought you as a housewarming gift. Stopping to grab a bottle of water from the fridge for Nat just in case the cider upset her stomach before taking your seat on the plush couch.

“I’m happy you’re home Baby.” Your eyes met Nat’s before you moved to pour yourself a healthy amount of sparkling cider, ignoring Nat’s laugh at the full glass in your hands. You raise your glass in a mock toast, at least one of you was happy that you were back.

“I guess it's good to be back. Nice to be around people that care about me,” the grateful smile sent Nat’s way as a form of thank you.

Natalie deserved more than a pathetic smile and both of you knew it.

You had been relatively alright after Mikey’s death, which came as a surprise to everyone. Your impromptu stay in Chicago after the funeral was a way for you to keep an eye on Natalie and Donna, occasionally helping Richie at The Beef when you could.

But you had to return to your own life eventually, and when you did shit spiraled out of control for you.

People always drone on and on about the five stages of grief and how it affects everyone differently, and you never thought that statement to be more true than when you stepped foot in your apartment upon your return from Chicago. Grief is supposed to come and go, you were doing everything that everyone was telling you to do. Following all the steps, checking all the boxes. Forcing yourself to try and heal, to feel your emotions as much as you would allow yourself to.

But at the end of the day, it was just you, an apartment full of memories, a voicemail you were too scared to ever listen to, and the shadow of your grief following behind you.

You experienced all the denial, anger, bargaining, and depression and you waited and hoped for the acceptance to come. But all that ever came was the cycle of grief replaying in your life like a bad dream.

You had thrown yourself into your work, anything to forget about the pain Mikey’s ghost left behind. And when your psychiatrist recommended a prescription to aid with your anxiety, you accepted. Anything to escape the shadow of a man you once knew appearing in your apartment on late nights.

But then the prescription wasn’t enough, and the alcohol you once used to numb everything had lost its edge, your days just turned into functioning as best you could. And then there were times you couldn’t even remember the previous day, the last five minutes, falling asleep on the couch.

You had become dependent; dependent on the alcohol and the drugs, and the way they made things all better for a short time.

And then you had woken up in the hospital one day, with no memories of how you got there, no care for what happened to you.

The figure in the chair next to you helped you to escape the fog in your brain. The woman you had known your whole life looking down at you with a tear-stained face, her hand tightly clutched around yours, her presence all the more confusing.

The silence in the room was too loud for you as you just watched the blonde, the lack of emotion on your face breaking the woman down even more. When the doctor came in to explain what happened it shocked you. Not because of the severity of the situation, but because you couldn’t remember a thing.

The theory was that you had been mixing prescription drugs and alcohol for some time, a truth you already knew and were purposely partaking in.

You were at your apartment after work winding down from the long day, pregaming for a night out with your co-workers. The Ativan you had taken earlier at work already put you at ease. You were trying to get to your patio for some reason but had trouble with the sliding glass door.

Too inebriated to unlock it you had essentially thrown yourself against the glass until it finally gave way to the weight of your body and you ended up face down covered in glass and the pool of your blood.

Not fazed by your injuries you collected yourself, glass and all. Grabbing your keys from the counter leaving to whatever destination you had in mind. Somewhere between removing yourself from the mess of your ruined sliding door and stumbling out into the hallway, you swallowed two more pills.

According to the reports, a neighbor found the mess of your body in the hallway, making it a mere few inches from your door before your body succumbed to the deadly cocktail swirling inside you.

In October of 2022, 8 months after Michael’s death; you would overdose.

You were broken from the haze of memories as you felt a dip in the couch. Natalie came to sit right next to you head resting on your shoulder, you gently laid your head on top of hers. You owed Nat your life.

A quiet sniffle left you, losing the battle to keep your emotions under wraps. “You’ve done so much for me Sug, and I…I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you enough appreciation.” You felt Nat’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you into a side hug as the two of you sat in each other’s presence.

It was no secret that without Natalie and Pete, you might not have been experiencing this moment. You for sure wouldn’t have gotten your shit together if you were still all alone on the West Coast. Nat had gone out of her way to find the best treatment facility on the East Coast for you, it had been decided that you would make the move back to Chicago when you were released.

So while you were away facing the consequences of the darkest moments of your life. Nat was at home picking up the pieces of your life while also trying to keep hers intact, not that you realized or cared back then.

Nat and Pete sold the family home that was still in your mom's name, nobody needed to ask to know that it wasn’t healthy for you to live in or across the street from a museum of memories. The couple got you a good deal on a quaint home not too far from them, the leftover money put towards the rest of your savings.

Natalie Berzatto, a miracle worker in your eyes had somehow pulled strings to get you an interview with the Tribune. So yeah, you owed Nat a lot more than placating smiles and cheap pizza.

“Are you sure you’re ready for tomorrow?” You shifted positions at Nat’s question, the two of you now sitting criss-cross applesauce, facing each other on the couch. You gave a small nod, fingers playing with your fuzzy socks.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” you let out a small laugh. “I can’t expect you and Pete to babysit me forever.” You smiled up at Natalie, the prospect of writing again caused a sense of excitement to stir within you. It felt like the only thing you had left, the only thing you were still good at. Although you had almost completely fucked up your life, you still had your writing, and that was a start.

“Maybe we can meet up for lunch after?” You didn’t want to celebrate too soon, you hadn’t even got a job yet, but the idea of a lunch date with Nat sounded like the best form of indulgence you had allowed yourself in a while.

The night continued with the two of you talking, Sugar doing her best to catch you up on all that you missed sans any mention of a certain blue-eyed baby brother she had. As the night began winding down the two of you cleaned up the mess of your dinner, before you sent Nat on her way with promises to fill her in after your interview tomorrow.

Making sure your kitchen was cleaned to your liking, you made your way into your room to begin settling in for the night. A knit crew neck you had meant to return to its rightful owner once upon a time, becoming the basis of your pajamas after a relaxing shower.

Settling into bed you couldn’t help but lie awake, mind racing with all the different scenarios that could play out tomorrow. This was your first night alone in your new home and the reality of just how alone you were slowly began to sink in. You knew Nat would always be there for you if need be, but she had her own life to live, the beginnings of a family in her near future.

All you had at that moment were your racing thoughts and the regrets of a life you had almost ended too soon.

You sat in the lobby of the Tribune leg bouncing nervously as you waited for your meeting with the editor-in-chief, resume, and copies of your work sitting snugly in your tote bag. You knew Natalie had already sent over your information, but your nerves forced you to believe that being over-prepared would be necessary.

The sound of the receptionist calling your name caught your attention. She was standing a little ways away from you waiting for you to follow her, you gave a nervous smile before rising from your seat and following the rhythmic click-clack of her heels down the hall. As you watched her walk in front of you, you thought you may have been a little underdressed in your casual street clothes, but you forced yourself to push your thoughts aside. They’d be judging you for your backlog of work, not your choice of attire.

The receptionist lead you to a corner office, the frosted glass of the exterior providing a sense of privacy. Ushering you into the empty room she let you know that the editor you’d be meeting with would join you shortly. You sent her a small thanks before walking into the room, eyes catching on the minimalistic decorations scattered around the office.

Your feet lead you to the wall of windows situated behind the desk, the view reminding you of an office you had occupied so many months ago. You looked out over the Chicago skyline, it still felt so surreal to be back in this city.

The face staring back at you something you were still learning how to get used to. The scars that decorated the right side of your face were healing up nicely considering how deep some of the glass had gone.

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, someone entered so swiftly you hadn’t even heard them, or maybe you were just too wrapped up in memories of a past life. You hurriedly turned from the window not wanting to seem rude, the man who had entered the room caught your eye before gesturing for you to take a seat at one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

You felt a little less concerned about your fashion choice as your eyes followed his Levi-clad legs as he settled into the chair behind his desk. You could feel your nerves returning, not knowing what to expect from this interview. In the most humble sense you had forgotten what being interviewed felt like, not having to go through the process since getting your first big journalist job straight out of college.

“Nervous?” Your leg stopped bouncing as the man’s voice met your ears, a shy smile curving your lips.

“Here I thought I was being subtle,” you tried to joke hoping to relax yourself a bit. The responding chuckle helped somewhat, so far the man sitting in front of you didn’t seem like too much of a stickler.

“Never thought I’d see the day you were nervous in front of me Baby,” you tried to control the look of disgust you felt begging to paint your features. You were grateful for Nat’s help but you were sure this was a mistake.

“I’m sure HR has their hands full with you.” You mumbled, the roll of your eyes showcasing your irritation. “Thank you for the opportunity sir, but I don’t think this is a good fit for me.” You reached out to the chair next to you where you had sat your tote bag wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“No wait,” the sound of the rolling chair moving rapidly caused you to stop, seconds away from rising from your chair. You turned your attention to the figure in front of you eyebrows pinched together.

“It's me, Hayden,” your brows furrowed even more, your mind searching your memory for that name. “I…uh, I took you to senior prom. We met in our creative writing class that same year.”

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’, eyes darting to the pristine nameplate facing you on the desk. The name ‘Hayden Ivanovski’ staring directly back at you.

“No fucking way.” The whisper traveled easily through the silent office, Hayden’s echoing chuckle caused you to let out a small one of your own. “I’m sorry, it's just nobody but close friends and family even call me that anymore. And, I really wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You watched as he nodded, you could see it now. The boy you once knew in the maturity of his face, hadn’t changed much but it was enough that you wouldn’t easily recognize him if he passed you on the street.

“Uh, the porn stache sure is a uh choice,” your hand raised to gesture to your upper lip, you couldn’t help the smile curving your lips.

Hayden laughed head dropping as he resumed his seated position. “Divorce makes you do crazy things,” your smile faltered, you hadn’t meant the quip as an invitation to discuss any personal grievances. “No need to look so sad, it was mutual.” He shrugged the topic off like he hadn’t given it a second thought in a long while.

You nodded your head distractedly, “Enough about my failed marriage, how have you been?” You gave him a small smile, mind going blank as you thought of the best route to take this conversation.

“I uh, almost died five months ago,” the laugh ripped from Hayden’s chest, the last thing you were expecting to hear. You watched as he found your eyes, his smile disappearing as he took in the harrowing look on your face.

“You-you’re not serious are you?” The question almost caused you to laugh.

“As serious as my overdose was,” you watched as Hayden shifted in his seat, the air easily became uncomfortable. “Sorry coping mechanism.” You laughed the topic off, you had assumed Nat told him when she booked you this interview.

“So um, when does the interview start,” your leg began bouncing up and down again, the nervousness returning. If you hadn’t already made a bad impression you were sure exposing your less-than-stellar life choices definitely lost you the job.

“Nat didn’t tell you?” You stopped your brows from pinching together, the constant frowning sometimes the tiny scar between your eyebrows. “I don’t need to interview you, you’re an amazing journalist. I hired you the second Nat told me you were moving back. That is if you want to work here.”

“You’re not just hiring me because we went to prom together, or as a favor to Natalie are you?” Nat had helped you to get your foot in the door, you had wanted to secure the job because of your merit.

You watched as Hayden quickly shook his head, “While it is nice to reconnect with you, we need some experience in our newsroom. I know before your uh… incident you were working as a travel journalist, and the pay here wouldn’t be the same. But you’d still have full control over the stories you write, although you might not write as often as you’re used to.” You nodded along listening to his explanation. The fact that this was happening failed to resonate with you.

“So, the position of Managing Editor is yours if you want it.” Hayden sent you a small smile awaiting your response, he did his best not to focus too long on your scars as he stared in your direction.

“As long as I can write and edit then I will happily work for you,” the large grin spreading across your lips stretched the small scar stitched into your upper lip.

The smile on Hayden’s lips matched yours as he walked around the desk to shake your hand. The two of you sat there going over the expectations that your new role required, Hayden explaining the environment he tried to uphold at the paper.

You finished the meeting off with a tour of the floor the Tribune occupied, the one you’d mostly be working on. The two of you caught up a little as he input you into the system and created your badge so you could easily come and go as you pleased. You learned that he married Marlene Buchanan, a girl you went to high school with. The ink of their divorce still drying after only being finalized two months ago.

He invited you out to lunch but you had to rain check explaining the plans you made with Natalie promising the two of you would work something out in the future. He walked out with you, the two of you parting ways once you left the lobby.

You stood on the sidewalk taking in the crisp Chicago air. Your life was finally starting to feel like your own again, and even though you had only secured a job, the inevitable weight of doom that followed you was beginning to feel a little lighter.

Natalie was pacing in the office quickly moving to close the door as the chaos sounding through the building caused a headache to form. She knew Cicero would be there in the next hour, and that the money problem was their biggest issue in getting the new restaurant up and running.

The urge to call you was immediate after speaking with Cicero. Nat knew how much you cared about this place, and regardless of what anyone else thought she wanted you to have a say in any decision they made now that you were permanently back in Chicago. And she’d be lying if she said the reserved funds that came with you weren’t also a reason to invite you to this meeting.

Shouts could be heard through the door as she finally made her mind up, you two had plans for lunch anyways so you could just meet her and the two of you would leave together. Any excuse Nat could think up to call you would help her.

Sighing she scrolled through her contacts before forcing herself to press on your name and just call you. She listened as the phone rang, part of her hoping you didn’t answer her call, the hope immediately dying as your voice sang through the speaker.

“Nat, hey! I was just about to call you,” She smiled at the light tone in your voice, a tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time. “We still on for lunch?” The question caused her to take a deep breath, it was now or never she either asked you or she didn’t.

“Yeah of course. Uhh but would you mind meeting me at The Beef?” She was hoping the question came across as nonchalant, she called out your name as the line went quiet, sure you had hung up on her.

“Nat, I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” the apprehension in your voice made her feel guilty for even asking you in the first place.

“Listen, Baby, I know how you feel but we’re making a big decision today and I feel like you deserve to have your input heard,” she waited for a minute before continuing. “If it triggers you we can leave immediately, no questions asked okay? I just…this might be good for you.” She bit her lip as she waited for your response, she would be okay with whatever you decided but at least she had put the opportunity out there.

“I think I can be there in 45 minutes,” the tired sigh that escaped your lips matched the way Nat was feeling.

“Thank you, Baby.” She listened as you said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Nat was sure if she didn’t already have morning sickness she would’ve thrown up from that phone call alone.

It was exactly as you remembered it. Not that you had expected the exterior to change in the year since you’d been there. Although not physically changed things felt different, it no longer felt nostalgic as you stood there looking at the newspaper-covered windows. You could feel the anxiety eating away at you, the sick part deep inside of you wishing you had something to numb your feelings.

You could hear the faint sound of an alarm blaring with how close you were standing, the sound helping you to focus on the things you could control. You hadn’t come all this way just to look at the old building’s facade, and part of you didn’t think you could take disappointing Natalie by walking away. Nat wouldn’t have been disappointed in you though, but since your accident, you were scared to ever see that look in her eyes again.

The deep breath of fresh air filling your lungs helped to cool you down a bit. The pairing of your puffer jacket and scarf felt a bit suffocating.

In through your nose out through your mouth, a few more deep breaths were all you allowed yourself before forcing your hand to grip the door handle and step foot into a building that might haunt you for a lifetime.

The constant screeching of the alarm was so loud it made you glad that it drowned out the sound of the bell ringing above the door. Your eyes traveled around the restaurant, it was the same but it wasn’t. Little things missing telling you that some type of work was being done.

“As I live and fucking breathe!” The loud voice you would recognize anywhere drawing your attention to the dining area, Richie’s large figure taking up the doorway.

You shared a small smile with him. Subtly adjusting your scarf to cover the most noticeable scar lining your face, you watched as the older man took steps to close the distance between the two of you. The tall man quickly pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed a hug from Richie until you were snuggly pressed against his chest, the warmth of his body helping to relax you. The unconscious thought crossed your mind that you might have never experienced one of these hugs again if you hadn’t made it to the hospital in time.

The love Richie was pouring into the hug caused your eyes to water, Mikey’s passing bonding the two of you, the loss of someone you both loved so much bringing the two of you impossibly closer. But not close enough for him to know the path you had taken after. And not close enough for you to want to burden him with being just another addict in his life.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head before pulling away, the annoying alarm still blaring at full volume. You stepped back to give him space, “You been fucking around in the crawl space Richie?” The question paired with your signature grin as Richie let loose his boisterous laugh.

“Of course, you’d fucking know about the alarm.” Richie’s disgruntled mumbling met your ears.

“Hey, Richie, could you please turn that goddamn motherfuckin thing off?” The voice of Cicero filtered through your ears. “It’s making me insane!”

“My bad Uncle J, Baby just walked through the door and shit like a ghost. Fucking Mikey booby trapping crawl spaces and shit.” He poked his head back into the dining room to let the occupants know he somewhat had the situation under control.

“Mikey’s fuckin Kevin McCalliper-,” The responses correcting Richie caused you to let out a small giggle, the noise bringing a smile to Richie’s lips.

You continued standing with Richie as he spoke to somebody on the phone, the long one-word password he gave made you chuckle. Pretending you knew how to help Richie was an excuse to not join the conversation going on in the back for a while.

While the blaring alarm was causing your ears to ring, the loud noise was a buffer between your impending thought and the inevitability of being back in this restaurant. The sudden quiet was the only sign that you would have to face a now unavoidable situation.

“Here lemme take that,” Richie reached out expecting you to give him your scarf and jacket. You hesitated, your wardrobe feeling like a sense of armor for the time being.

“Uh, I’m actually pretty cold. Thanks, Rich.” Your hand shot out to pat his bicep, head jerking in the direction the voices were coming from. “Sugar in there?” You didn’t need Richie to reply to know the answer.

You followed Richie’s lead as he headed to the back, taking a deep breath to still your nerves, not all too sure what you were getting yourself into. You watched as Richie pulled up a chair next to Cicero for you, taking your tote bag out of your hands as he gestured for you to sit. You smiled politely, giving him a small nod as you moved further into the room.

Three out of four familiar faces stared back at you, the look on Nat’s face indicating how much it meant for her that you showed up.

“What is this an intervention?” You made the joke as a way to cut the tension that had filled the room, the silence felt even louder as Nat said your name in a reprimanding tone, the joke not being funny to her one bit. You shrugged before moving to sit in your designated chair, shooting a small smile to the dark-skinned woman who was eyeing you from across the table. Your eyes easily avoided the blue ones you knew too well.

You listened as Nat cleared her throat, all attention focused on her. “So uh, I invited Baby here because I think she deserves to be a part of this decision.” Four eyes flashed to you as you awkwardly adjusted in your seat. “And, um she has a decent savings account.”

A snort left your lips at Natalie’s rushed words, her ulterior motives for inviting you here reminding you a bit of her mischievous brown-eyed older brother.

“Sorry uh, big fan of your work. But uh, how do you play into all this.” Your eyes drifted to the unknown woman, a smile played at your lips, a feeling of shyness sweeping across you at the fact that she had any idea who you were.

“Family friend.”

“Old acquaintance.”

The three other people at the table looked between you and Carmy, eyes darting back and forth at both of your explanations. You couldn’t help the cackle you let out, missing the look of panic shooting through Natalie’s eyes. You couldn’t recall a time you would ever describe your relationship with Carmen Berzatto as an acquaintanceship.

“Baby is a close family friend,” Nat interjected before any other response could be given. “A friend we should be thankful for even considering investing in the restaurant.”

Your eyes finally found Carmy’s having a hard time taming the smile threatening to spread across your lips. The false confidence you were exuding helped you not overthink the situation you were in.

The conversation picked back up where it had left off after you entered. You sank into your seat shoving your hands into your jacket and tucking your chin into your scarf as you did your best to pay attention. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel across the mostly empty dining room, memories of a life that no longer felt like your own clawing to overtake your senses.

Up and down, up and down. The tick you gained while in recovery helped you to remain in the present your leg working overtime as it bounced to keep you focused.

The voices talking around you are drowned out by your wandering thoughts. Thoughts that had you re-evaluating your relationship with Natalie.

It was no secret that you had become a selfish person after Mikey’s death, every decision you made was to benefit you, and if someone else somehow benefited from it then good for them.

That was the reason you stayed in Chicago so long after the funeral, telling yourself that the remaining Berzattos needed you, that you were staying to make sure they made it out of the deep end alive.

But that was a lie, you stayed because you were too afraid to face your own emotions, afraid to face your grief head-on. Even now you could say you stayed behind to ensure Donna and Sugar were okay, but deep down you knew that you stayed because you didn’t want to be alone.

You helped Richie at The Beef because he needed you, needed to know he wasn’t alone. In all actuality, it was you who needed them, you who had become dependent on people grieving just as much as you.

The same could be said about your substance abuse after returning to your reality. The idea of never being able to talk to Mikey, see Mikey, or hold Mikey was all just an excuse you used to justify your indulgences.

You constantly told yourself that it wouldn’t be fair to burden Sugar or Richie with your hurting, that they didn’t need to babysit you while trying to heal themselves. That when your memory became spotty and you missed more than one of Sugar’s calls, it was because she didn’t need to put up with you and your problems.

And then unintentionally or not, you became Natalie’s problem. Not even letting her brother’s grave grow cold before you forced her to face the idea of losing another person she spent her whole life loving.

You pleaded with the universe for Nat to wipe her hands of you. To let you waste your life away and rot like you were starting to. To turn her back on you, because how could you so easily fall into the same vice as Mikey knowing how much it affected him; knowing how much it affected the people who cared for him.

How dare you pretend as though no one would give a shit if they had to bury you mere months after putting Michael to rest. How fucking dare you be so selfish.

There were nights in bed where you’d lay awake questioning your intentions. Had you purposely thrown your life away because you knew Natalie would come to your rescue? Did you somehow manipulate Natalie’s good nature into digging you out of a hole you were so far gone in you couldn’t bring yourself back from?

You always got on Natalie about putting herself first, and how she needed to stop stretching herself so thin for everyone else. And then you went and almost fucking died, and you forced her to take on a role she had been playing her whole life.

You had willingly ruined your life and forced Natalie to face the consequences.

If there was one thing you learned in your recovery, it was that getting clean, staying clean, and becoming a healthier better version of yourself should never be done for someone else. You had to want it for yourself, but damn if seeing Natalie’s face didn’t push you to get your shit together you weren’t sure what did.

“500,” you weren’t sure where the confidence to speak up came from, not even entirely sure what the balance in your savings account even was. Your unfocused eyes now staring directly into Natalies. “That’s my offer.” You quickly glanced around at everyone else unsure as to what they were even talking about but needing to put your stake into the game.

“Like $500..or,” your attention turned to the other woman, her voice trailing off indicating that she indeed was asking a question.

A chuckle parted your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean 500K.” You made sure to look at each person across from you individually, instilling how serious your offer was.

“Bullshit.” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, sure he had been speaking this whole time but it's not like you were paying that much attention.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in tandem with the sound. “I thought you needed money Carmen,” the name slipped through clenched teeth. You turned to face Nat. Your final numbers would be decided between the two of you, “Nat?”

“100.”

“450.”

“120.”

“375.”

“200,” you hesitated for a minute. The triumphant smile on Natalie’s lips caused your eyes to narrow.

“250, or I walk.” You leaned forward hands moving to lay flat atop the table, a small smirk played on your lips. Your leverage was total shit and Nat knew that there was no way you’d walk away from this project.

“Deal.” The smile on your lips faltered as you faced Carmy again, his annoying crystal blue eyes staring daggers into you.

Clearing your throat you slumped back in your seat, hands moving back to hide inside your pockets. The meeting finished on a good note without a hitch, with the restaurant gaining an extra 250K to put toward inevitable expenses.

You quickly stood from your seat moving to escape any awkward reunion that may have sprouted between you and Carmy. The interest in meeting Carmy’s partner was pushed to the back burner as you made your way through the restaurant, looking for the one other person you wanted to speak with at the moment.

Maneuvering through the kitchen you found Tina not too far from what you remembered to be her usual station. You leaned against the wall watching her work, the effort she was putting into saving burnt and rusted pots bringing a small smile to your face. You shrugged off your jacket and slipped the scarf from around your neck.

“Need some help?” The hesitation in your voice was evident. You weren’t sure where you stood with Tina, you knew how she felt about Mikey and how much his choices affected her. The thought of relaying the past few months to her was too much for you to think about at this moment, you had time, and when you were ready you would confide in her. But for now, there was no point in ruining a much-needed reunion.

You watched as Tina jolted, not prepared to hear your voice. “Ay, dios mío!” Tina turned to you hand raised above her heart, eyes wide. “Why the fuck are you sneaking around the kitchen.” You listened to the older woman’s voice scold you before making your way in her direction.

Not giving her another second before throwing your arms around her, you probably should’ve made sure it was okay, but there was nothing like a mother’s endearing hug to let you know that everything would eventually be okay.

The two of you stood in each other’s embrace in the middle of the kitchen. Neither of you said a word as your quiet sobs began to echo off the walls. You were crying for Mikey, and for yourself, and for all the lives the both of you had ruined, whether they knew it or not.

You were apprehensive to step foot back in this establishment so soon. But it had easily shown you all the things your life would have missed out on had you not allowed Natalie to get you the help you needed.

Carmy’s head perked up as he noticed you exit the kitchen with Tina. His irritation began to rise as he laid eyes on you, Sugar had blindsided him with your arrival. He hadn’t even known you moved back to Chicago, let alone that you had any interest in getting The Bear up and running.

You looked different. His eyes immediately caught the obvious scar tracing along your jaw. The tip of it started a few centimeters below your chin before meeting your jawline and finding its end just before your ear. It was a gnarly scar and he knew for sure the amount of stitches you needed must have been painful.

Carmy was also sure you didn’t have that scar a year ago, nor the smaller one that was carved into your upper lip. He would’ve taken notice, you can’t spend 48 hours with someone and not be able to recall all the puzzle pieces that were specially made to create them.

He watched the two of you approach the group at the counter, you hanging a little farther back than probably necessary, pretending to occupy yourself with the bare walls. Carmy might’ve smiled at your awkwardness if he wasn’t so confused by your presence.

A distracted farewell to Tina left his lips as he tried not to be so obvious in his study of you. His eyes refused to meet Sugar’s as he could feel her watching him, watching you.

Sydney’s return gained his full attention, forcing himself to focus on something else other than his thoughts that were racing and full of you. The clearing of your throat as you finally made your way to stand next to Sug had all six sets of eyes focusing on you.

You didn’t just look different. From the very few interactions the two of you shared and Carmy’s constant people-watching, you seemed like an altogether new person, the confidence and surety he was used to seeing in you was dull.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I was kind of hoping I could take on a more involved role in all of this?” Carmy’s eyes squinted as your hand raised in a flourish to signify you were talking about the restaurant.

You were met with silence. Carmy was too distracted by being in your presence after a drought without you, and Sydney still hadn’t even been truly introduced to you.

“Shit, sorry.” Your hand shot out to shake the woman’s hand as the two of you introduced yourselves. Although she read your articles, mostly your profile stories highlighting various chefs, it was different to be formally introduced to the person behind the stories.

“I uh, actually read most of your articles.” Carmy watched as you brightened up a bit your writing something that would always bring you joy. “I had to cancel my subscription though.” The sound of your laugh went straight to Carmy’s heart, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the delicate sound until hearing it again in this moment.

“I actually have a proposal for you three,” you paused, making sure everyone was paying attention before continuing your explanation. “What if I highlighted the renovation? I was..uh…before,” you had to stop yourself and take a deep breath to ground yourself.

“I was profiling The Beef and Mikey before he…yeah. Um, so I was thinking I could maybe continue that with The Bear,” you stopped to make sure everyone was following along, sending Carmy a small smile before continuing. “We could profile the team, give people a behind-the-scenes look into the renovation, and who’s behind it. I would publish it, it would be great PR and might help to fill seats.”

The following silence made you feel insecure about your proposal. “Maybe just give it a thought. No pressure or anything uh just let me know if there's any interest.” Your voice trailed off as your confidence continued to plummet, Carmy’s blank eyes doing nothing to quell your nervousness.

You turned your attention back to Sugar, a silent plea to leave in your eyes. She nodded “Uh, Baby and I had plans so we’ll be heading out.” You sent the two chefs in front of you a forced smile before hurriedly returning to the kitchen to pick up your jacket and scarf you left there. Call it cowardly but slipping out through the kitchen’s back door seemed to be in your best interest.

The fresh air whipped against your face like a blade, and the immediate change in temperature helped to relax you. There would never have been a perfect time to make your return to this restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t how you things to go, but you felt an immense pressure off your shoulders.

The hard part was over, you made it through the door, walked past the remnants of Mikey every time a specific spot reminded you of him.

It wouldn’t always be like today, you knew that. Some days would be harder than others as you worked through your struggles and allowed yourself to feel the loss of Mikey. One step at a time, it was cliche but it was really how you had to live your life from now on.

Being around Carmy would continue to be hard for the time being. You had essentially watched his brother deteriorate, watched as his mind no longer became his own. And you too had almost become a victim to the whims of your drug-addled mind.

You wouldn’t force a relationship with him and would make him privy to your shortcomings when you were ready. But you told yourself you would be okay if he wanted nothing to do with you, the choices you made would not be easy to come to terms with. And if Carmen Berzatto decided he was finally done with your constant disappointment in his life, you’d just have to accept it.

The sound of Natalie’s footsteps pulled you from the labyrinth of your mind, a small smile sent her way as the two of you made your journey far from this lot of memories.

Carmen stared at the outlines they had hung along the walls, eyes following along with tasks that needed to be completed to open in six months.

He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little bummed out that Sugar returned to the restaurant without you. Any small glimpse, or interaction he could get with you he would swallow like a man starving. The chef stood there doing his best as his counterpart gushed over meeting you, doing his best not to cringe at his two worlds colliding.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he could keep it professional while you worked alongside him on the renovation. Sure you would be doing your own thing in tandem with the work that would get done. But surrounding himself with you in an already stressful time in his life and an even more stressful environment wasn’t something he was prepared for.

He let his mind wander, thoughts of what happened to you in the year since your visit drowning him. Carmy had no clue what happened after you left that night, no clue what had seemed to connect you and Sugar more than you already were.

Seeing you again made his chest hurt. Seeing you was like a hot poker being shoved through his heart, unbearably comfortable but all so warming at the same time. He wanted to know you, know what had changed you since the last time his fingers had traced your skin.

Carmy knew the two of you were nowhere near as close as you had once been. Unsure if you’d ever share a connection like your past one. But he knew while you were here, in Chicago, surrounding yourself with him, the two of you would be given equal opportunity to put this years-long game of cat and mouse to an end; it was just a matter of who bit first.

a/n: well…here we are. i know this might read like baby’s life is just gonna be sunshine and rainbows from here on out but i can promise its not. she is a deeply flawed character with a lot of shit to figure out and a half baked relationship with everyone’s favorite chef won’t fix that. i’ve been around addicts my whole life so i have an understanding of what they can be like, i want to iterate that in no way am i romanticizing addiction. my personal experiences with functioning/addicts DO NOT make me an expert on this topic in anyway, but i do use those experiences to write for baby. i’m always here if anyone needs to talk. i hope you all enjoy <3

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder

unable to tag: @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[todaysdocument]

Front page of the Tulsa Tribune during the Tulsa Race Massacre, 6/1/1921.

Series: Central Decimal Files, 1881 - 1982

Collection: Records of the American National Red Cross, 1881 - 2008

Transcription:

THE PEOPLE'S PAPER

                                                          The Tulsa Tribune

THE WEATHER                                                                                                       SECOND

OKLAHOMA - Tonight and Thurs-                                                                    EXTRA

day part cloudy.

     Tulso temperatures: Maximum

today at noon, 85, yesterday, 91;

minimum, 68, yesterday, 61

FULL LEASED WIRE REPORTS OF ASSOCIATED AND UNITED PRESS; UNRIVALED STATE AND FEATURE SERVICE

VOL. XVII - NUMBER 225.        TULSA, OKLAHOMA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1, 1921.        State Edition * *      FOURTEEN PAGES - PRICE [TORN] CENTS

COUNTY PUT UNDER MARTIAL LAW

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

7 whites, 68 Negroes Dead --- Fire Rages

PROCLAMATION

All persons not deputied as special officers are ordered to

disarm in a proclamation issued shortly before noon by Mayor

Evans. Persons carrying guns after that hour will be arrested.

The proclamation:

"Armed troops, well equipped, have now arrived who, with

the assistance of the local authorities, will be able to control

the situation in this city. Everyone is directed to preserve law

an dorder and to avoid under every circumstance, the gather-

ing on the streets of curious and excited masses. This only

tends to make the situation worse for the authorities in restor-

ing order, making it more burdensome and complicated. No

loyal citien of Tulsa will willingly commit any act which en-

dangers the peace and security of the city. All parties, without

direct authority from the chief of police or the sheriff or Tulsa

county, who may be found after 11 a. m. today bearing arms and

engaged in any act liable to promote a breach of the peace will

be arrested and prosecuted under the Riot Act.

"Headquarters of the National Guards is established in

Room 306, City Hall, at Fourth street and Cincinnati avenue,

and except for duly appointed policeman and deputy sheriffs

all permission to bear ar mfsrom, and after, the publication of

this proclamation must be countersigned by Gen. Charles F.

Barrett or Col. B. F. Markham, commanding the National Guards.

"Gen. Charles F. Barrett concurs in this proclamation."

Dated 10:30 a. m., June First 1921.

"T. D. EVANS, Mayor."

Barrett is Put in Full

Charge by Robertson

OKLAHOMA CITY. - Martial law in Tulsa was ordered by

Governor Robertson at 11:15 o'clock and Adjutant General Bar-

rett placed in command of the city. The order was given over

the long distance telephone and a proclamation to this effect is

being prepared and will be issued immediately.

The order of Governor Robertson invoking martial law

over Tulsa has been extended to include all of Tulsa county. The

order will displace civil control and place it in supreme com-

mand of the adjutant general.

The governor's telegram to the adjutant general follows:

"I have declared martial law throughout Tulsa county and

am holding you responsible for maintenance of order, safety of

lives and protection of property. You will do all things neces-

sary to attain these objects.

(Signed)                  "J. B. A. ROBERTSON, Governor."

The governor acted after being in communication with of-

ficers in Tulsa. Attorney General Freeling will go to Tulsa this

afternoon.

"The situation at Tulsa seems peculiar to me," Governor

Robertson said. "With power vested in all city and county offi-

cials there to deputie and put into the law enforcement every

citien of the city if necessary, I cannot understand how this

trouble was allowed to get such a start."

Conversation with Adjutant General Barrett was to the ef-

fect that it was impossible for the fire department to enter the

negro section and that the flames were raging unabated.

All available guardsmen will be placed on duty once in

the negro section, which has been entirely destroyed by flames,

General Barrett said when he r[eceived order?] from Governor

Robertson placing the county under martial law.

Orders have been issued to disarm citizens. Later the

military will issu ecrededntials to men chosen as special officers.

A military commission, composed of seven city officials

and business men, to pass upon the guilt of the 6,000 negroes

now held in concentration camp, was formed shortly before

noon by Mayor Evans and Chief of Police Gustafson and ap-

proved by General Barrett. This committee will pass upon the

guilt of those held under guard in the various camps, naming

those who will be held for trial for inciting the black populace

to riot.

The personnel of the committee: C. S. Younkman, water

commissioner; Albert Hunt, district judge; H. F. Newblock,

city commissioner; C. S. Aver, oil man; Grant McCullough,

banker; F. E. White, business man; Alva J. Niles, banker.

The Tulsa Tribbune

RESTORE ORDER

LYNCH law leads not to law but to lawlessness and

lawlessness is a repudiation of government.

Lynch law is a fire brand in the hands of those

who thoughtlessly elect to establish mob rule for law

and order. Lynch law is an impassioned appeal to the

hatreds of prejudice. It brings ignominy and disaster

to any community that falls its victims.

Whatever ground it may have had, a story starts

that a negro in the county jail was to be lynched. Out

of curiosity a crowd collects. A small band of negroes

brings firearms onto the scene. At first they were few

At the outset there was nothing to indicate that the

whites had been moved to a battling protest. But when

the first small band of negroes added to their armed

forces the war began. Tulsa found itself experiencing

a night of terror and the new day dawned with the

[illegible]nd of battle and the sky clouded with the smoke that

rises above the burning buildings and shacks in the

negro end of town.

At such a time as this it is the first duty of every

citizen to restore law and order as quickly as possible.

The National Guard is equal to cope with the rioting

negroes who are already under control. Let every citi-

zen do his duty and lend his fullest influence to the

prompt restoration of law and order. Do this for the

good name of Tulsa. Keep off the streets where there

are evidences of disorder as much as possible. Make

no needlessly threatening display of arms. The state's

soldiers can do that and do it with the authority of the

law.

Now is the time for every citizen to keep a cool

head, to keep out of mob collections. The quickest and

surest way to restore law is to respect the law. Let the

authorized agents of the law handle those who will

not.

BLACK QUARTER BURNS TO GROUND;

FOUR GUARD UNITS TAKE CHARGE

Seven white persons are known to be dead.

One white woman, shot six times, is expected to die.

Thirty-four whites are wounded in three hospitals. Many other wounded persons are

in their own homes.

Sixty-eight negroes, including men, women, and children, are dead, according to reports

from all districts of the black belt where heavy fighting was waged throughout the night

and up to 9 o-clock this morning.

One hundred blacks are believed wounded.

The officials are in control of the situation and no more armed conflicts are expected.

The entire black belt of Tulsa is a charred mass. The business section of

Greenwood avenue is levelled. Scarcely a building escaped the flames set by

torches when an army of whites invaded that district early this morning to an-

ticipate a general attack on the part of the blacks. Officials at noon today were

unable to estimate the total loss which will extend into many thousands of dollars.

It is estimated that more than 500 homes of negroes were burned. A score of

business buildings and a number of factories were razed. Heavy stocks of mer-

chandise were a total loss.

The fire carried by a strong north wind spread into the white residence

section adjoining the black settlement on North Detroit avenue. Ten homes in a

row were burned before firemen could check the flames. One house was burned

in the immediate vicinity of Standpipe hill.

At 12:30 o'clock the fire in this district was rapidly being brought under

control.

Hundres of white women and children fled from their homes as the leap-

ing flames fanned by a strong wind from the north ate their way to the white

belt. About 11 o'clock the wind subdued, giving the firemen a chance to

successfully combat the flames.

A special train bearing 350 National Guardsmen under the command

of Adjutant General Barrett arrived at 9:05 o'clock this morning. General Bar-

rett issued a statement from guard headquarters at the police station that mar-

tial law would not be declared until he had made a hurried investigation.

Only developments will determine if it is to be invoked,

Barrett added. Companies A and B, totaling 150 men, arrived

on the special train from Oklahoma City, with a second troop

train due from the capital about 11 o'clock. Company B and a

sanitary detachment, both located here, are also on duty and

have been since midnight.

The guards after establishing headquarters in Second

street in front of the police station were ordered to various sec-

tions of the black belt. One contingent was sent to Meulty park,

where several hundred negroes are interned.

General Barrett is now acting under orders issued by Mayor

Evans, Chief of Police Gustafson and Sheriff Bill McCullough.

Following a night of rioting, snip-

ing and open clashes between whites

and blacks hundreds of armed men

invaded the negro district to remove

the menace the blacks there offered.

At 5 o'clock scores of armed men in

automobiles drove to the north side

of the black belt in the vicinity of

Standpipe hill. These white fighters

formed one wing of an encircling

movement entirely surrounding the

negro district. Hundreds of pedes-

trains advanced on the black belt

from the south and west. Hundreds

of shots were fired. Many negroes

were reported to have been wound-

ed while a number of whites were

taken to hospitals with wounds.

The heaviest fighting this morn-

ing  was in the extreme northern sec-

tion of the black belt. Hundreds of

negroes were concentrated in a val-

ley at the base of Sunset hill. Fifty

were barricaded in a church.

Machine Guns In Use.

Deadly volleys of steel were poured

[into?] the ranks of the whites as they

[advanced?] in open formation against

the blacks who stood their ground.

Finally the whites were forced to re-

treat. A call was sent to police head-

quarters for reinforcements. A num-

ber of guardsmen with two machine

guns were rushed in automobiles to

the scene of the fighting. The ma-

chine guns were set up and for 20

minutes poured a stream of lead on

the negroes who sought refuge be-

hind buildings, telephone poles and

in ditches.

The heavy firing came to a sud-

den halt when a huge white cloth

was raised aloft by the negroes. The

church where many negroes were

barricaded was riddled with bullets,

it was said.

Hundreds of negroes with hands

held high in the air walked from

the valley under the guard of armed

civilians. They were taken to Con-

vention hall and McNulty park,

where they were interned.

Whites who returned from the

battle-swept valley said that at least

50 negroes, including men, women

and children, were lying dead. At 10

o'clock authorities had been unable

to make a check of the black losses

in this battle.

Most of the blacks who were killed

met death in the early morning

fighting in the negro section near

the Frisco tracks.

___________________________

THE START

The clash had its inception when

several automobiles loaded with

armed negroes and said to have been

led by "Old Man" Stratford, a ne-

gro hotel proprietor, swung up in

front of the courthouse shortly be-

fore 10 o'clock, bent on protecting

Rowland. Not more than 30 blacks

were in the first party but they suc-

ceeded in virtually taking command

of the situation there because few

of the whites were armed and none

displayed guns. The blacks were or-

dered home by Sheriff McCullough,

who it is said, had armed negro

deputies with him on the courthouse

steps. Barney Cleaver, a former negro

police officer, also advised them to

go home. After the first sally,  dur-

ing which the blacks dispersed part

of the crowd of whites, the negroes

were still permitted to keep their

guns.

Instead of going home, they cir-

cled around several blocks near the

courthouse and came back with an-

other flourish of shot-guns and

rifles. By this time the crowd of

whites had increased to several

thousand with hundreds of women

and a number of children on the

fringes. Most of the whites wer on-

lookers and there appeared to be

no organized mob. After making

known their intention to protect

Rowland at all costs the blacks were

star[ing?] toward home again. There

was still no move on the part of the

sheriff's forces or the city police to

disarm them although the black

force was not more than 50 at this

time.

Instead of going to the negro sec-

tion to stay the blackss whirled

through the streets of the quarter

and sought recruits. Every negro

they met was solicited to joion their

ranks. At Sixth and Cincinnati two

negroes who refused were threat-

ened, according to residents of the

neighborhood who overheard the

conversation.

Shortly after 10 o'clock the blacks

came back to the courthouse with

their biggest force. Estimates place

the number of armed negroes at be-

tween 100 and 200. By this time

it was estimated that probably 100

of the whites in the crowd had

procured arms. A number of whites

who sought guns at the National

Guard armory were refused. Cour-

iers went through the crowd of

whites and warned women and

children and unarmed men to seek

safety. They said they feared an

assault by the blacks. Only a part

of the crowd complied.

The first clash followed on the

heels of this warning. There are

two versions of how the firing be-

gun. According to some of the spectators

pistols were first fired into the air

in front of the Boulder street en-

trance to the courthouse and this,

spectators say, acted as a signal for

the general firing during which the

blacks fired ten shots to each one

for the whites. The crowd of whites

greatly outnumbered the armed

band of negroes but the whites were

helpless in front of the black on-

slaught because they were in con-

stant danger of firing into other

whites if they attempted to protect

the women and children in the crowd

by answering the blacks fire.

Where First Man Fell

After the first volley one carload

of blacks came north on Boulder

avenue, firing as they raced along.

The first white man dropped be-

fore the crash. He had been stand-

ing against the wall of the garage

on Boulder, just south of Sixth

street.

Across the street men and women

in the crowd sought refuge in the

row of houses on Boulder south of

Sixth. Many of them were unoble

to reach cover before the second

volley so they dropped in their

tracks and clung to the earth.

Others hid behind curbs in the

driveways to the garages of these

homes, running to better cover be-

tween the volleys.

Meanwhile the negroes fled.

Some of them ran through the

crowds of women and children,

brandishing their guns. They had

disappeared from the immediate

area of the courthouse within ten

minutes after the first shot had been fired.

Second Version of Start

The second version of the start

of the firing was to the effect that

a number of unarmed white men,

seeing that the officials were not

willing to disarm the blacks, took

that task to themselves. One man

is reported to have dashed into the ranks of blacks and seized one of the

guns. Spectators who relate this as

the true story of the inception of

the shooting declare that the blacks

immediately opened fire when they

were threatened with disarmament.

Shortly after the negroes fled

from the courthouse battlefield an

automobile load of white youths

sped past and fired into the jail

windows on the fourth floor, spec-

tators declared.

John McQueen, a former county

officer and one of the men who at-

tempted to disperse the crowd at the

courthouse, declared today that

Johnny Cody was the negro whose

shot started the general firing here.

"While I was on the steps Cody

and a band of negroes started up,"

McQueen said. "I went to meet them

and a stranger backed me uo. Cody

pushed a gun against him and fired

just as I pushed the gun away. The

stranger went down. Several bullets

went through my coat."

Immediately after this report came

to the crowd that the blacks were

mobilizing for systematic assault on

the whites. The majority of the

white men were still [illegible]. It

became immediately apparent how-

ever, that the police and sheriff's

force were making no attempt to

prevent the return of the blacks so

the white men themselves took

charge of the situation. Small

groups systematically entered all

downtown hardware stores and

pawnshops and took up all the arms

and ammunition that could be found

Nothing else in any of the stores

were touched.

Black Attack Again.

Soon there were more than 1,000

armed men on the streets. Part of

this crowd defended the Hotel Tulsa

and the section around Second street

and Cincinnati avenue from an attack

of blacks who swarmed back within

three quarters of an hour after the

court house battle.

After this second general battle,

which is described elsewhere, the

whites took rapid command of the

situation. Patrols spread quickly to

cover all the principal streets and

the roads leading into the city.

Special guards were put at all bridges

within a several-mile radius to halt

any incoming blacks. Roving pa-

trols moved up and down Main

street. At Main and Archer streets

desultory firing took place for sev-

eral hours. Blacks from their quar-

ter fired repeatedly from behind the

building at Archer street and Boulder

avenue and Archer and Cincinnati

avenue. They were cleared out with-

in an hour or two, but a second

group took their place and held the

negro block on Cincinnati, at the

Frisco tracks, against assault until

early this morning. Two negroes were

killed here and several others wound-

ed. A number of whites were re-

ported wounded in fighting here.

Could Have Disarmed Blacks.

Fully an hour before the first

shots were fired at the courthouse

citizens stood on the south steps and

pleaded with Police Commissioner

Adkison to call out the National

Guard without delay. The negroes

were just beginning to parade the

streets at that time and they argued

that even a small detachment of or-

ganized and equipped men could dis-

arm them, compel them to return to

their own part of ftown, get the

whites to disperse when this had

been accomplished and so avert im-

pending trouble.

Commissioner Adkison answered:

"We are trying to get them out,"

then turned and told the crowd to

obey E. S. McQueen's advice to go

home while the negroes were patrol-

ling the streets in arms, threatening

death and rapine. The police were

powerless.

An hour after the pitched battle

took place around the courthouse

and northward along Main and Bos-

ton, the Guard got into action.

Guardsmen went immediately to the

police station and began an attempt

to disperse the whites who had

armed themselves and gathered

there in expectation of another at-

tack.

_____________________________

The Dead

Carl D. Lotpeisch, 28, Randall

 Kans., shot through breast. Taken to

Oklahoma hospital at 6:30 o'clock

this morning. He died shortly after-

ward.

Unidentified whate man, about

28; light brown hair; light brown

eyes; five feet ten inches; 160

pounds. At the Mowbray undertak-

ing parlors.

F. M. Baker, Havelin, Kan., 27,

short in back with buchshot. Died

this morning at Morningside hospi-

tal. At the Mowbray Undertaking

parlors. An identification card found

in his clothing bore the name of

Norman Gillard, 315 So. Norfolk.

The third white man, unidentified

was killed about 5:45 o'clock this

morning when a squad of white

riflemen engaged a group of ne-

groes on North Cincinnati av. The

body was taken to Mitchell-Fleming

undertaking parlors. He was de-

scribed as about 25 years old, six

feet [ta?]ll, weight 165 punds. He

wore dark green trousers, brown

coat, tan shoes, and a tan belt with

a silver clasp bearing the initial

"W". He was shot in the neck.

Death was instantaneous.

The body of an unidentified white

man about 35, held at the Stanley-

McGee Undertaking parlors still

was unidentified early today. He

was shot in the head.

The body of a white man, about

30, shot in the back of the head, held at

the Mowbray undertaking parlors,

ho[illegible] [ea?]rly last night in the first brush

with the blacks, still was unidentified

this morning.

[1?]0-year-old white boy, though

to [be?] named Olson, home at Sapulpa

died at 8:30 o'clock following a bat-

tle an hour earlier at the Frisco depot

in which two negroes were reported

killed. Olson's body was removed to

the Mitchell-Fleming undertaking

parlors where it awaits positive

identification.

A white girl was reported killed on

North Peoria in the vicinity of the

Texaco plant. the report could not

be verified at 10 o'clock.

____________________________

The Injured

A re-check of the injured revealed

the following at the various hospit-

als:

Oklahoma Hospital.

Earl Hileman, city, shot through

thigh, not serious

G. B. Steck, Sapulpa, shot in back,

serious.

J. E. Wissinger, 150 Admiral or

1202 East Second, shot in knee, not

srious.

G. F. Joiner, 1703 South Main, shot

in leg, not serious.

Ross G. Owens, 1108 South Jack-

son, shot with bird shot, several

wounds but not serious.

E. D. Hartshone, shot in thigh.

Edward Austin, 418 South Detroit,

shot in toe, not serious.

Grocer Slinkhard, West Tulsa, fac-

tured rib.

Robet Elmer, West Tulsa,

A. N. Dow, 401 South Madison,

shot in upper thigh and compound

fracture of arm, serious.

C. C. Thomas, 803 South Main,

shot in leg, not serious.

E. R. Hileam, Fern hotel, com-

pound fracture of thigh, serious.

Garland Crouch, 16 North Quincy,

shot in upper abdomen and right

arm, though serious.

A. T. Sterling, 314 South Zunis,

minor injuries.

Robert Palmore, West Tulsa, shot

in left shoulder, not serious.

E. Belchner, 1437 East Hodge,

shot in hand and leg, not serious.

Lee Fisher, 338 1/2 East First, shot

in left leg and thigh, thought serious.

G. I. Prunkart, Frisco conductor,

shot with bird shot in shoulder, chin

and forehead. He was shot while

sitting in caboose of train just pulling

into city.

There are two wounded patients

unidentified. Fifteen or 20 patients

having only slight wounds called at

hospital and had them dressed, left

hospital without giving name or ad-

dress.

Tulsa Hospital

George Switzgood, 415 N. Detroit;

not serious.

K. G. Logsdon, 308 S. Cincinnatti;

shot in arm; not seriously.

Sergt. W. R. Hastings, 1507 E. Jef-

ferson; not serious. After having his

wounds dressed, Sergeant Hastings

immediately left hospital.

H. L. Curry, Illinois hotel, shot

through neck; serious.

E. F. Vickers, city; arm shot.

M. W. Camble. 220 W. Cam [Iron;?]

thought serious.

Jess Collins, 522 N. Boston; serious.

R. N. Seltzer, 529 S. Utica; leg, not

serious.

Otto Sherry, 112 N. Frisco; face

powder burned.

Thirty-five or forty who were only

slightly wounded were attended at

the hospital. After the wounds were

dressed they walked out, leaving

no name or address.

Physicians & Surgeons Hospital.

R. C. Hankson, Jenks, Okla., tool

dresser; shot through right wrist,

bullet traveling through abdomen

into the left arm; shot at 6:45 a. m.

___________________________

NOTICE TO TELEPHONE

SUBSCRIBERS

          ______________

Please use your telephones only

in case of emergency. This will

assist us in protecting life and pro-

erty.

SOUTHWESTERN BELL TELE-

PHONE COMPANY

___________________________

CURTIS BROWN CO. sells PHOE-

NIX PURE SILK HOSE. Phone 232.

____________________________

We sincerely trust that the

local disturbance is over. We

do not want to give the im-

pression of trying to drive in

business as the result of a

calamity.

It is our duty, however, to

call t he public's attention to

the fact that the standard fire

policies do NOT cover loss re-

sulting from Riot, Insurrection

or Civil Commotion.

We write Riot, Insurrection

and Civil Commotion Insur-

ance and the cost of same is

very slight. Call us for rates.

Policies are written here in

our office. Phone Cedar 2100.

Pearce, Porter & Martin

500 Palace Building

_______________________

NOTICE

______

Because of the race war

the announcement of the re-

maining entrants in The

Tribune beauty contest will

be carried in all editions to-

morrow and none today.

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 17)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 1700

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: a god of Mischief (He’s a warning, okay?)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist       Divider by @firefly-graphics

You lounged on the lawn furniture in the back of the compound watching Dizzy run in joyful circles as Redtail made loops overhead. You had brought a tennis ball out and Dizzy was adorable as she ran around with it in her mouth. Occasionally, she’d drop it in your laugh and you’d throw it out into the expanse of lawn. You laughed as she leapt into action each time the ball was thrown. Redtail would swoop down every now and then to tease the dog. 

The rest of the team was out on missions or meetings. Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been sent on a mission yesterday afternoon and you were enjoying some down time. It felt like it had been some time since it had happened. You stretched lazily, basking in the feel of the sun on your skin and the feeling of contentment. 

You hear footsteps approaching and turn to see Loki walking towards you. He had been in a meeting with Thor, Tony, and Maria Hill when you had checked earlier. 

“Hi. How’d the meeting go?” You greet the god. 

“It went well. Nothing of grave importance,” Loki takes the chair next to you, “What are you up to?”

“Relaxing in this glorious weather,” you see his eyes take in your tank top, jean shorts, and sandals. “You know, I’ve never seen you in anything except the leather. Is there casual wear on Asgard?”

“Simple tunics and robes but, as prince and warrior, I do not wear them often.” Loki raises an eyebrow at you. 

“I see. What about for Tony’s party this weekend? Will you wear this?” you motion to his attire.

“I plan to wear a suit.” Loki chuckles. 

“I look forward to seeing that. Isn’t the leather hot though? It’s 80 today.” 

“I could strip for you if you’d like.” Loki smirks playfully. 

“That’s okay,” you hold your hands up in defeat. 

“Is this better?” Loki’s form shimmers for a moment before revealing him in bermuda shorts and hawaiin shirt. 

You grin, “I like it! You look ready for a beach vacation.” You stare at Loki for a moment, wondering about his personal life. He knew a lot about you but rarely revealed much about himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling. Anything.”

“Do you have… someone? Here or on Asgard or… somewhere?” you stammer through the question. 

“Your two lovers are not enough for you?” Loki chuckles. 

“They’re plenty for me. You don’t talk about yourself much, Lok. I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but I’m curious about you. We’re friends and so I wonder, is there someone? Are you a player? Are you a monk? You know my story. You haven’t given me much of yours. Have you ever been in love?”

Loki studies you for a moment and then nods as if deciding something to himself, “I suppose I would be what you Midgardians refer to as a player.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em?” you giggle. 

“I suppose. There’s only ever been one person who…” Loki trails off. 

“Who what?” 

“Who I thought I could fall for.”

“What happened?” You question. 

“She belongs to another.” Loki says as he looks away. 

“She belongs only to herself.” You counter. 

“Of course. She’s engaged to another.” 

“I’m sorry.” You tell him. 

“Thank you.” Loki pauses to contemplate before asking, “Are you happy? You’ve been through a lot in your short life.”

You smile at the statement, “I’m not that young, Loki.”

“I’m over 1000 years old.” Loki deadpans. 

“True,” you laugh, amazed at the lifespan of Asgardians, “Yes. I am happy. This isn’t what I imagined my life to be. Terrigenisis tore my world apart but you make the best of what you have. I have a family in the team, lovers in Steve and Bucky, friends, a purpose. This is… home.”

“And I’m your friend?” Loki asks. 

“Of course you are.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll betray you at some point? I mean, I am notorious.” 

“I trust you, Loki. I think I know your heart, but understand that I live by the statement, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I may let someone make a fool of me once but I won’t let them a second time. Once you lose my trust, it’s gone and would take a great deal to earn it back,” you explain. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have to trust you. I’m letting you play with my brain.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance. Trusting me. Seeing me as something other than the villain that I was.”

“You’re more than your past. Oh!” you exclaim when a slobber covered ball is dropped in your lap. “Hi Dizz.” you laugh and throw the ball for her. 

“She has you well trained.” Loki smirks. 

“That she does. Speaking of training, are you up for another session?” you ask. 

“Same time as always, darling. I’ll see you then.” Loki gets up. 

“See ya later, friend,” you watch as Loki walks back to the building, dropping the glamour to reveal his normal outfit as he walks. He sends you a brief wave before walking into the building. Your attention is pulled away when Dizzy drops the ball in your lap again. Time to play. 

--

You get to the training room early to do some climbing and ended up in the rafters as you were known to do. You were just about to climb down when Loki entered with Thor trailing behind him. 

“Drop it, brother,” Loki grouses at him. 

“Just tell me you aren’t playing at anything with her and I will,” Thor demands. 

“Mortals are your weakness,” Loki rolls his eyes at his brother. 

“Love is not weakness, Loki.”

“I do not feel that way about her. She is a friend. Much like Sif is to you.” Loki says pointedly.

“That’s all I wanted, brother,” Thor smiles. 

You clear your throat loudly, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Loki looks up at you in amusement, “How long have you been there?”

“Well before you came in,” you wink at him. 

Thor looks at you sheepishly, “I’ll let you two get to your training.”

“Okay. See ya later,” you are holding in your giggle as you make your way to the climbing rope and jump to it. When you slide to the floor, you look into Loki’s mischievous eyes and you both burst into laughter. When it’s spent you say dramatically, “Loki! I can no longer control myself. I must swoon into your arms!” You pretend to faint against him and he catches you. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Loki narrows his eyes at you. 

“Yup! And you, my friend, are stuck with me!” You stand back up.

“You know that won’t be the last time someone will make the insinuation.” Loki says quietly.

“People have a hard time believing a man and woman can be just friends,” you shrug.

“That is true. Can I ask you something?” Loki asks. 

“Of course.”

“Hypothetically, would you have been able to fall in love with me if…” Loki trails off. 

“I don’t think I would let myself fall in love with any Asgardian,” you admit.

“Why?”

“How old are you, Loki?” 

“A little over a thousand years.”

“Exactly. Asgardians live for around 5,000 years, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why. Humans live maybe 80 years. That’s a blink in comparison. I’ve lost a lot of people who are important to me in my life. I don’t think I could purposely put someone through that. Falling for an Asgardian, letting them fall for you, would mean making them watch you die while they live on for millenia. I don’t think I could do that to someone, ever. It’s difficult enough being friends and knowing that. Being lovers, it would be unbearable.”

Loki nods, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

You smile at him, glad he understands. “How about we get to work?”

“Let’s go, darling.”

Over the past week, you had worked up to slipping into Loki’s mind without the unbearable pain. It still caused a headache but you were able to see through his eyes and communicate in a similar fashion to how you did with animals. Today, you were attempting to take control of Loki’s movement. It wasn’t easy. Just lifting his hand took a toll. You drop the warg after a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” Loki looks concerned. 

“It’s difficult. The pain is worse,” you explain.

“Why don’t you warg and I’ll do some magic? Just play around a bit.” 

“Okay. Sounds fun,” you warg back into Loki. He begins doing some simple tricks and you watch in delight. You try to concentrate on the motions he makes, the feel of the magic flowing through him, and his thought process as he works. A picture flashes in Loki’s mind and you catch a glimpse of a beautiful face before he forces it away. 

“Does she know?” You ask in his head.

“What?” Loki hedges. 

“Does she know?” you drop the warg.

“No.” Loki says. 

“Then she’s not.”

“Not what?”

“She’s not lost to you. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way?” you push. 

“She… I… I don’t… She couldn’t-”

“Oh, I’m gonna stop you right there. She could. She really could, but if you never told her how you feel, what’s she supposed to do?”

“She’s engaged.” Loki insists.

“She’s not married, Loki. You should tell her. Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

“What?”

“At least then you’d know. Either she doesn’t and you have closure to move on. Or she does and you two can figure it out. ‘Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all’, right? Better to say it and know than to spend the next few millennia wondering,” you needle. 

“I…” Loki falters with a far away look in his eyes. 

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.” 

“I will.” Loki nods.

“Good,” you see Loki’s concentration is completely gone, “Why don’t we leave it for today?”

“Oh. Yes, good. I’ll see you later.” Loki walks away lost in thought. 

“Later, loverboy,” you whisper with a chuckle to yourself.

Part 18

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

Permanent: @badassbaker @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @cherthegoddess @sherlocksmanwatson @cap-n-stuff @finleyjayne @caplanreads @connie326 @daydreamerinadazedworld @bugsbucky @chrisevanscardigan @harrysthiccthighss @palaiasaurus64 @rebekahdawkins @tllynn15 @learisa @jelly-fishy-babie @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @liebs82 @stuckyslutt @a-really-bi-girl @saiyanprincessswanie @baddie-barnes @aikeia @marvelgirl7 @starlightcrystalline @kcd15 @slytherinambitious @sallycanwait68 @slytherdorxmd @fangirlforever2412 @rainbowkisses31 @whisperlullaby @thejemersoninferno @thehumanistsdiary @supraveng @dispatchvampire @juenenfeu @sxbby-barnes @allonszassbutt @y-napotat @is-it-madness @harold231 @buckysbaby32 @purselover2 @ene-rene @chrisevansbaby @mrsbarnes-rogers @sarahp879 @rosesanchez12298806 @xxpapasfritasxx @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @softie-socks @bestofbucky @bella-bear03 @randomfandompenguin @jjsoccer11 @hiddles-rose @courtneychicken @pureromancebykaci @awaywithtime @automatic-tragedy @ximebebx @magnoliamermaid @milkymil-k @get-me-some-chai-bitch @freckleblaze @angrythingstarlight @unknownmystery22 @please-buckme @daddysdumbsweaterwearingtart @buckysnumberonegirl @buckyfan12   Terrigenisis: @dark-night-sky-99 @amiets2 @captain-asguard @the-soulofdevil @redbarn1995 @dottirose @fallenoutofrose​

Updates and taglist: My taglist is currently closed. Updates for series will be made on Thursdays and Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction for update notifications. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

[shadyteacup]

Hey can i have a request where Fyodor, dazai, and Chuuya comfort the reader after their dog dies? My 14 year old dog is being put down on Thursday and i am NOT okay

Hey, there.. I'm so sorry.. I know that this is really hard and painful, but I need you to be strong, okay? All my love to you♡

I'm done with Dazai and Chuuya, decided to post then first.. I will post the Fyodor req very soon..

Stay Strong, My Love

Dazai

Dazai had rushed home the moment he had received your text. He was worried about you, and also immensely sad. He hadn't expected this to happen. He found you lying on the couch, hugging a pillow. He noticed the tiny shakes of of your form, a result of crying.

He approached you slowly, and gently weaved his hand through you locks.

"Hey, honey.", he said, kissing your head.

You stiffened at his voice, not having noticed him come in.

"Osamu?", you whispered.

"Yes, love. It's me."

You turned to face him; your eyes were red and your face showed signs of exhaustion.

He wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb and gave you a warm, reassuring smile.

"Come, let's take care of you."

He picked you up, and took you to the bed, placing you on the edge while he created a soft wall of pillows for you to rest your back on. The position you were in on the couch when he found you must have hurt your back and neck. What you needed right now was a soft yet firm backrest. After placing the pillows, he helped you scoot over and rest your back. He rushed to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water.

"Drink up."

He had stopped to buy your favourite ice-cream on the way home. He wanted to help you feel better.

"Look what I got!"

You smile at the tub of your favorite ice-cream in his hands.

"Thanks."

You both ate in silence. A lot was going on in your head, and Dazai knew that those thoughts and memories only made you sadder. But death was a natural process. It was unavoidable. One must embrace it, and in a way, celebrate it. For death signifies freedom. In many cultures, death is termed as the beginning, and not the end. The soul is believed to move on, and attain peace. He believes in this, too. As someone who has wanted to die for a long time until now, he has always found his body to be tiresome burden. Death would release him from his physical shackles, and he envies anyone who has attained that level of peace.

Death shouldn't be feared or considered as a sad occurrence. A person who has lost someone close to them, must come to terms with it. They must accept it and move on in life. And to do so, one must mourn. Mourning helps us to experience all of feelings and emotions, and allows our mind to feel free and clear afterwards. It's like the feeling of satisfaction one gets after screaming their fears from the top of a cliff, or writing a diary. One must mourn properly to release all their pent up sadness and feelings.

So, even though Dazai knew that your thoughts would only make you feel sad, he wouldn't try to distract you from them. You need to experience the pain, to emerge as an even stronger individual.

"I feel like crying again.. I just.. miss...so much... it pains..."

You whispered, eyes tearing up again, and voice breaking.

He hugged you, and rocked you as you cried, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"I know, love.. It will pain, but you must stay strong, okay?"

When you had calmed down a little, you both talked about the many memories you had made. You both laughed over the little things. You both knew whom to blame when snacks would go missing from the table, or when slippers couldn't be found. You both fought over which of you was the most loved. You won, ofcourse.

Remembering all those memories made you smile, and appreciate the time you had spent together. The 14 years you had with each other were well spent, and you wouldn't trade those years for anything in this world.

Chuuya

Chuuya couldn't believe his eyes when he read, then re-read your message. He felt immensely sad, and worried. He knew how much you loved your dog, hell, he hadn't even spent a long time with him/her, but he was still emotionally attached.

He tries to hold in his tears, and decided to rush home.

You opened the door to find your redheaded boyfriend at the door. He noticed your red eyes and the dark circles under them. You must have completely neglected yourself these past couple of hours. He knew you get when you feel sad. You don't take care of yourself at all.

"Chuuya..."

You say, hugging him tightly. He hugged you back, his strong arms caging you in. His eyes started tearing up. Your body shook with your sobs as you held onto him. You both stayed at the door like that until your sobs had reduced to soft sniffs.

Chuuya reached inside to grab the keys and your coat.

He pulled you out, helping you into your boots.

"Where are we going?", you asked.

He led you to his car, a hand on the small of your back. Opening the passenger side door for you, he helped you climb in.

Seating himself on the driver's seat, he pressed the ignition button, and the car roared to life.

You loved his collection of luxury cars, but also knew how much he loved his bike.

"You didn't use the bike today?"

"No. I needed to carry something with me today."

He smiled at you, before leaning back to grab something from the back seat.

Handing you a box, he asked you to open it.

It contained pictures of you and your dog. You were smiling in those pictures. You could spot Chuuya in quite a few o them too. All three of you looked so happy. Most of the pictures were from trips that you three had been on. You three loved adventures, and often found yourselves on mountain tops, hills, scenic valleys and grasslands.

You tried to hold in your sobs, and smiled at the fond memories.

"I'm taking you to these places."

You looked at him, wide eyed.

"I don't think I can take it.. I can't go there now.. not without..."

Chuuya held your hand in his, and kissed your knuckles.

"I don't want you to associate these memories with sadness. I want you to remember these places, these pictures, and think of happiness. Let's create more memories. Happy memories. That way, whenever you think about your dog, you'll remember these places, and your heart will be filled with warm memories of mirth and laughter."

It was difficult to do what he said, since making more memories without your dog didn't feel right. But you understood why he asked you to do this. This would help you to move on, without forgetting the amazing times you spent together. Many times our brains tend to blur the times of sadness to help us stay happy. This results in the person grfually forgetting they ever had any sad times. The only fault in this system was that one tended to forget everything related to that sadness. And you didn't want to forget your best friend of 14 years. So you had to create more memories, memories that would help you hold onto the sad times, and cherish your bond.

You both spent the rest of day laughing and smiling, remembering your lost friend, and cherishing all the amazing times you three had spent.

[bakusdumptruck]

Bakusquad Crack Post Pt.2

Hello you beautiful bitches 😌 hope you had a good day today! I was stuck on what I was going to write and decided to make a side story on what happened with the LoV in the first part! So now i’ll give you high bakusquad ft. The LoV🤩

.

.

.

Pairing: Aged up Bakusquad x gn!Y/n x LoV 

Warnings: Use of marijuana, swearing, injuries, slight manga spoilers

Summary: Bakusquad gets kidnapped by the Lov, but it turns out better than expected.  

✨QUICK RECAP ✨

You and the Bakusquad were v e r y faded chilling on a hill watching the stars 

A nomu pops out of no where and you all start attacking, but completely miss

The nomu starts chasing you and ends up knocking everyone out 

OKAY NOW LETS GET IT 😈

So... you got kidnapped by the infamous League of Villains

B💥: *waking up* “Fucking shit what hap- oh shit hey crusty 😏 never thought i’d be here again.”

ST(Shiggy)🧴: “Never thought you’d be this easy to catch you little bitch”

B💥: “WHO YOU CALLIN A LITTLE BITCH YOU FLAKEY FU-”

Y/n🥵: *evil/scary ass voice* “Bakugou if you don’t shut the fuck up right now i’ll let his flakey ass disintegrate you. You’re beING TOO FUCKING LOUD 😃🔪”

B💥: “uh... where’d you get that knife from :D”

K💪🏼: “Hey guys, sorry to ruin your moment but shouldn’t we be concerned that we got kidnapped.”

M💅🏽: “I agree... We literally got kidnapped by the people who want to kill us.”

S🕷: “Oh shit, that’s who they are? No wonder they looked so familiar.”

All: 👁👄👁

ST🧴: “Ya’ll are dumber than I expected... anyway we want you guys to join us. You all have powerful quirks, especially you Baku-”

B💥: “YAWWNNNN. No thank you. I already said no.”

ST🧴: “Did you just s a y the word yawn 🙃 *scratching neck* You’re pissing me off. I’ll just kill you then.”

S🕷: “Hold on mr.saltine, before you kill bakubro can we smoke our last joint? This weed was expensive and I AM NOT letting it go to waste. Plus I have even more and it needs to be gone before I die.” 

M💅🏽: “Sero please tell me you didn’t bring your stoner pack.”

S🕷: *pulls out his so called “Seros Super Stoner Pack”*

Shiggy’s starting to regret his life choices.

All of a sudden Dabi pops out of no where

DB🔥: “Is that weed? I smell weed. Where is it.”

 Sero had the most amazing idea, but not for them to escape no, he has had the most amazing idea to make sure he finishes his weed.

S🕷: “...Wanna smoke with us 👀 I already rolled a joint and I can roll at least 4 more. Don’t wanna let it all go to waste 😃”

DB🔥: “Let them out of the cuffs. I need to smoke.”

At this point Shigaraki is over everything and decides to smoke to distract himself from the stupidity.

So, ya know, Sero does his thing and hands yall the other papers to roll up

*30 minutes and 5 joints later...*

DB🔥: “NO BUT LIKE ENDEAVOR IS A FUCKING B I T C H. HE CAN KISS MY BURNT ASS.”

 This smoke session somehow turned into a therapy session. 

DB🔥: “I KNOW HE’S MY DAD BUT HOLY SHIT. FUCKER PUSHED ME INTO FAKING MY OWN FUCKING DEATH AND NOW HERE I AM. IM BURNT, MUSTY, AND STUCK WITH THIS CRUSTY ASS BITCH.”

Y/n🥵: *patting his back* “There there, let it out... uhuh just like that”

DB🔥: “I CAN’T EVEN FUCKING CRY. MY TEAR DUCTS ARE BURNT AND I FEEL DUMB AS FUCK CRYING WITH NO TEARS. I LOOK FUCKING CONSTIPATED.”

ST🧴: “Bitch please, you look constipated all the time.”

DB🔥: “Square the fuck up. 😃 Right now.”

D⚡️: “So... we just gon ignore the fact that he’s Endeavors “dead” son?”

Eventually Dabi lets everything off of his chest and goes off pouting in your arms

To lighten up the mood Sero connects his phone to his speaker and picks whatever song came up first 

It was WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.

Denki was the first one to get up and starts to rap the first verse. He knew it word for word.

Sero joined in after but also started dancing

Mans was MOVING them hips. Them shits were swaying like it was nobody’s business 💅🏽

WAIT SO HEAR ME OUT,  I feel like Bakugou would be a completely different person when he’s high

Yeah he’s still angry and shit but he’d be sooooo fucking funny

 This bitch would get up all of a sudden and be like 

B💥: “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG FUCKER. THIS IS HOW YOU FUCKING MOVE”

Then he starts aggressively twerking anyway he can 😭

He’s twerking on the wall, on the floor, ON PEOPLE  

You all eventually form a circle around him and start hyping him up

LMAOO ITS LIKE THAT DANCE CIRCLE AT SCHOOL DANCES AND EVERYONE HAS THEIR PHONE OUT

Y/n🥵: “BEST FRIEND SHOW EM YOUR MOVES”

K:💪🏼: “GO, OUUU YUH GET IT I GUESS 💅🏽... OKAY IM NEXT BEST FRIEND. GET THE CAMERA 🤩”

KIRI FUCKING PUSHES HIM OUT 

K💪🏼: “dougie 🤪 hype me up 😤🥵”

He does it REALLY bad, but that’s not gonna stop the hype 

ST🧴: “AHAHAHA WHY HE MOVIN LIKE THAT. MANS STIFF AS FUCK”

M💅🏽: “Like you can do any better than that 😗”

ST🧴: “Baby please, watch this”

Shiggy starts voguing... and he’s really fucking good. 

All: “💀”

DB🔥: “HOLY SHIT THIS IS FUCKING GOLD . YO GUYS GET THE FUCK OUT YOUR ROOMS. Hehe he’s gonna regret doing this. ”

The rest of the LoV members come out and are shocked 

They don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be disgusted 

TG🔪: “Dabi... is he okay, wait a minute... wHEN DID THEY GET HERE”

SP🐊: “...I’m going back to my room.”

TW👺: “OUU YUH SHIGGY. GET IT BITCH- this is so fucking disgusting.”

Mr.Compress and Kurogiri don’t even bother to see whats happening

Once the most iconic part of the song pops up YOU AND MINA GO OFF.

M💅🏽: “OUT OF THE WAY BITCHES. ITS THE BADDIES TURN.”

Holy fuck can y/n and Mina marry me already. p l e a s e.

Yall hitting every beat, every move, THE ATTITUDE. Yes. A+. 1000/10

Everyone was screaming their asses off and jumping around

After WAP, Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low played

DB🔥: “OHHH SHIT ITS MY TIME WHORES”

Dabi pulls out a guitar and amp out of thin air and plays his fucking heart out.

Bakugou finds drums and plays like theres no tomorrow

Sero finds a bass and joins in 

Y/n🥵: “What the fuck 😃 why is this so good 😃”

The rest of you starts head banging and singing along

K💪🏼: “TAKE A BREATH DONT IT SOUND SO EASY, NEVER HAD A DOUBT NOW IM GOING CRAZY WATCHING FROM THE FLOOR”

M💅🏽: “waYMENT- I THOUGHT HE COULDN’T SING. WHERE DID THAT COME FROM 😳”

Denki adds harmony to the next part

K💪🏼D⚡️: “TAKE A BREATH AND LET THE REST COME EASY, NEVER SETTLE DOWN CAUSE THE CASH FLOW LEAVES ME. ALWAYS, WANTING MORE”

Y/n🥵: “DENKI YOU TOO??? I’m going to pass away. This is too muCH. I’M GOING TO SIMP PLEASE.”

Oop, the best part’s coming up... who’s singing next?👀

DB🔥: “IT WAS NEVER A PHASE MOM. ITS A LIFE STYLE- CAUSE I GOT YOUR PICTURE IM COMING WITH YOU DEAR MARIA COUNT ME IN THERES A STORY AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS BOTTLE AND IM THE PEN.”

That shit was chefs fucking kiss. Dabi has the perfect voice for this song.

At this point you, Mina, and Shiggy were on the floor with tears streaming down your faces.

When yall thought it couldn’t get any better, Bakugou and Sero start harmonizing for the last part 💅🏽

B💥S🕷: MAKE IT COUNt WHEN IM THE ONE WHOS SELLING YOU OUT CAUSE IT FEELS LIKE STEALING HEARTS CALLING YOUR NAME FROM THE CROWD”

Dead. You flat lined. Your limit has been passed and now you’re a hard core simp. 

Mina was so glad she started recording because there definitely won’t be another opportunity.  

Y/n🥵: “Guys... WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. HOW CAN YOU PULL INSTRUMENTS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND PLAY PERFECTLY. KIRI WHERE THE HELL DID THE VOICE COME FROM.”

The boys were sweating and out of breath. They just did a whole performance in the hide out with zero practice.

They stared at each other at the end for a little bit and excitedly hyped themselves up. 

Dabi spoke about starting a band forgetting about his occupation and why the bakusquad was there in the first place

Honestly this moment was precious. The villains and aspiring hero’s were getting along because of the weed in their system. This just proves how weed can solve all your problems 💅🏽

*knock knock* “Doordash delivery”

ST🧴: “Oh, when did you guys order food?”

S🕷: “We didn’t order food...”

ST🧴: “... FUCKING SHIT NOT AGA-”

The pro hero’s busted in 🤩

DB🔥: “KUROGIRIIII. GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.”

And just like the the LoV escaped

M💅🏽: “Ya kno what, I honestly forgot where we were.”

B💥: “Same.”

K💪🏼: “We were having too much fun...”

D⚡️: “Ughhh why’d they come so early 😫 we were boutta start a band 🥺”

S🕷: “Wait... why were we here again??”

Y/n🥵: “Sero...baby, maybe you should lay off the weed for a bit 💀”

Aizawa walked in and shot his scarf out to all of you. He made sure to make them uncomfortably tight and pulled you guys right to him.

A🐱: 👺👹*gremlin noises*👺👹

Lol you guys are fucked. 

HELLOOOOO I hope you guys enjoyed this story of what went on when the squad got kidnapped!! Honestly my account is gonna have ALOT of bakusquad scenarios since I literally love all of them so much. Not a day goes by where I’m not thinking about hanging out with them 😭 Credits to jazzmonster for the gif 😌 once I saw it I knew I had to use it. Anywayy thank you all so much for the support :’-) I didn’t think people would actually like the stuff I write since its all over the place 😫 Hope you have a good rest of your day/night 🖤

[votederpycausemufins]

I said I had another chapter ready. so It's time to post that.

tagging @helleborusangel because they like my writing and @hermitcraftheadcanons since they and their community made the au.

now... with that out of the way, let's recap evo... wait shoot i mean hermitcraft.

“Pixlriffs! Turn on the tv!” Came a voice that followed a door being slammed open.

Pixlriffs turned around in confusion to see Zloy having barged in, panting with his goggles askew. “Zloy? What’s going on?”

“Just turn on the recap channel! Hurry!”

Even more confused, Pixl slowly turned to his tv and turned it on, switching to the channel that showed their recap show. “I thought you didn’t like watching our own shows. It’s not even a regular recap, it’s just going to be a clip show from the livestream. Why are you so-” But he cut himself off. Showing on screen was a countdown to the season eight day one recap. “What? But it hasn’t started. We haven’t recorded anything.”

“I know! I was with a friend and they turned it on and said they didn’t think it had started yet. When I saw the countdown, I ran all the way over here.”

“Do you think they just had a scheduling mistake? We might need to call the broadcasters and have them fix things up.” Pixl suggested, and Zloy shrugged.

“Let’s just make sure that’s the case and see which episode they’re actually showing. For all we know they mixed things up and this is just the season seven, day one.”

“I hope that’s the case.”

The two recapers watched the timer go down. Elsewhere, people were also turned into the episode. Some were pleasantly surprised by the supposed new episode. Others were confused thinking the schedule was wrong. Those who knew the hermits were confused, not having heard the new season was starting yet.

Then finally, the timer reached zero, and a familiar jingle started. And then a voice that was definitely not Pixlriffs spoke the phrase “This week, on Hermitcraft.”

“Wait, what am I doing in the nether? I just joined the world.”

Zloy and Pixl looked at each other at something they had never heard Keralis say. This was a new episode, but one they hadn’t made.

“A new adventure starts in season eight, new places and mobs to explore and see. And also Grumbot and Jrumbot are Hermits now. Welcome to the Hermitcraft recap! The show where no one is where they should be. My name is Toon Noah.”

“I’m Mysterious Goofball, and our writer is Pin Valentine. Today, we’re looking at everyone’s first day on the new season of Hermitcraft.”

The first person, Noah, spoke up again. “In this season, the hermits managed to update all the way to the second half of the caves and cliffs update even though that isn’t possible.” He explained what was going on in this season. “Everyone is scattered across the map and even in other dimensions. Monsters are tough, regen is off, and using chat is out of the question, so surviving is going to be tough.”

“At the very least, they can still respawn, so certain people have chances to escape. Escape what that is? Well, let’s look at what the Hermits have been up to.” Goofball said, sounding so nonchalant about what they were about to talk about.

“Starting with Xisuma, who’s started out in the deep dark. The admin’s helmet has been disabled other than necessary functions. His visor also gives him a little bit of light, so he’s not completely blind. Plus the fact that sculks are bioluminescent. But the warden is too, which has been able to find him a number of times.”

“Also in the caves in Jevin,-” Goofball spoke up again. “-who’s found himself in some lush caves. He’s got glowberries for light and food and the axolotls are pretty friendly. Plus, with enough searching, he was able to find a bit of wood for simple tools.”

“Speaking of wood. Some of the hermits have found themselves in the jungle.” Noah quickly commented before some audio from one of the hermits played along with its clip.

“Helloooo? Anyone around? Impulse? Tango? Hey is that Grian? Nope, just a parrot. Ugh, and here I am without any seeds.”

Goofball spoke up again when the audio finished. “Both Zedaph and Tango are in the same jungle, but the size of the biome as well as the amount of foliage means they haven’t found each other yet. Tango at the very least has started mining, and Zedaph managed to find a jungle temple and has already started on using the redstone from there for a melon farm.”

“How do you even make a farm out of that?”

“It’s Zedaph, what do you expect?”

“Well, as for the last of team ZIT, Impulse had found himself in the middle of a sea temple.” Noah spoke, as the video showed Impulse dealing with being underwater in such a place. “Between drowning and guardians, he hasn’t gotten that far away from his spawn.”

“In other aquatic news-” Goofball said, another clip from the hermits playing.

“If I never see coral again, it’ll be too- wait, is that False? False!”

“-Stress and False are also nearby to each other, both spawning in coral reefs. False was the first to escape, needing to just swim out of her spawn.”

“On the other hand, Stress was completely encased in coral and had to slowly chip herself out of the colorful prison. But by the evening, Stress was able to get to the surface and join False and an island, chopping down trees. They even started a wheat farm. But here’s hoping they don’t have to deal with drowned.”

“While she isn’t a drowned,” Goofball continued from Noah’s comment. “Zombie Cleo started out in a village. Normally, that would be pretty good, but being a zombie…”

“Leave me alone! I’m not going ta kill any villagers! I’m a zombie but I’m not that kind of zombie!”

“She’s been having an issue with the resident iron golem. With a bit of luck, she managed to hole herself up in a house which the golem isn’t going to destroy, but the villagers aren’t the happiest about it.”

Then Noah took over speaking. “From villagers to illagers, Mumbo Jumbo found himself alone in a woodland mansion, making himself the furthest hermit in the overworld.”

“Come on. Almost. Almost!” The video showed Mumbo running before he was killed by a vindicator. “Oh come on!”

After that, Noah continued. “He’s tried and failed many times to try and get out of the mansion, but eventually just started breaking the walls for tools.”

“The illagers aren’t really happy about it, but not like he’ll be going far, so I don’t think he’ll easily lose those tools.”

“Well at least he’s got supplies.” The video transitioned to a mountain top with three figures standing at the peak. “Grian, as well as new hermits Grum and Jrum are currently stuck on the top of a mountain, surrounded by powder snow. It’s pretty lucky that the three of them stuck together.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Goofball spoke up, sounding a bit frustrated or annoyed. “While Grian tried to fly down for supplies to little success, other than fall damage, he hasn’t managed to die, using some sort of magic.”

“But it looks like the fall damage came in handy for Doc, who’s further down the mountain. He’s having a bit of trouble surrounded by goats, plenty of them being the screaming variety.”

Goofball spoke again, no longer sounding as annoyed. “Yeah, but while hanging out with them, he heard a different kind of scream and did something pretty smart.”

“Wait, what was- is someone close by? It sounded like someone just- wait! The death messages!” He pulled out his communicator and read the messages. “Grian died to fall damage! Grian’s up there!”

“I guess he is the scientist of the group.” Noah spoke, the grin he had on his face audible in his voice. “It makes sense he would be the one to figure things out. But even then, he still can’t easily get down the mountain himself with all the goats messing him up. My guess is he’s really regretting being the goat father last season.”

“Doc isn’t the only one getting familiar with the new wildlife though. Hypno has found himself in a large flower forest that has plenty of mooblooms. He hasn’t been able to kill any of them yet, and there’s only flowers and no grass for him to get seeds from, so while the place seems like it should be easy to survive in, it’s really the opposite.”

“The best idea he’s had so far is following some bees to find their nest and hopefully a tree attached to it. If only he knew he was actually really close to spawn, being the closest to it.”

Goofball took control of the conversation again “Well, that’s not entirely true as three hermits managed to appear at spawn, those three being Joe Hills, VintageBeef, and Etho.” And the three hermits were shown in what looked much more normal than everything else that had been shown so far. “The three of them pretty quickly figured out something was wrong and started to make spawn a safe place, also gathering supplies so they can eventually find the other hermits.”

“Except Etho got a bit ahead of himself.” Noah cut in. “He had a bad run in with some mobs and ended up dying, finding out his respawn is a bit different than others. But at the very least, he managed to find Ren.”

“Ren spawned on a cliff of a ravine. There’s no water at the bottom, and all the blocks in reach are stone, so it’s not the easiest to escape from. Still, with little else to do, Ren started slowly chipping away at the stone to escape the ravine, only to fall when Etho surprised him by suddenly respawning there.”

“Okay, I got through two more pieces of stone. At this rate, I can probably get to dirt before the sun is setting so- Etho- ooooooh!”

“At the very least Ren is respawning just fine,” Noah explained “So the two of them were able to help Ren escape the ravine, so he’s the third person to escape his spawn area.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Goofball started to correct. “Before Etho helped Ren and even before Stress escaped her coral prison, Cub actually escaped the mesa mineshaft he spawned in. It was a little tricky with the cave spiders spawning, but he lucked out with the loot of a chest and was able to get a crafting table and pickaxe out of it.” Cub had found some iron, torches, a few seeds, some bread, and then used the wood of the mineshaft to get him on his feet in terms of survival. “With a few respawns, he took out the spiders and their spawner. He’s able to move around freely, but not wanting to respawn again, his hearts are a bit low, so he’s staying near the mineshaft for shelter.”

“Then, sort of nearby the mesa of course, is the desert, where the last two overworld hermits are.” Noah said, and there was the slightest ruffle of papers, like he was checking a script. “Both XB and Iskall are stuck in the same large desert, trying to find some source of food, water and wood. So far, the best they’ve found are the sticks from dead bushes. Out of the two, XB is doing a bit better since he’s found a cave for some sort of shelter, but Iskall’s much worse off,the sand messing with his one eye.”

“Between the heat, the sand, and my eye, I can’t even tell what’s real anymore. That cactus could be a tree or a town or- nope! It’s actually a creeper!”

And then Noah continued with a transition. “Getting even hotter now, let’s look at the nether. There’s only two hermits there right now, with different struggles to deal with.”

“Keralis is the first and lucked out a bit, landing himself in a warped forest right near a basalt delta, meaning he’s got up to stone tools. Plus, since nether gold ore can be mined with wood tools or better, he’s also got some gold boots to help with any piglins.”

“On the other hand, Welsknight is in a much worse situation. He spawned in a crimson forest and is having plenty of trouble with the hoglins.” And that was emphasized by a clip of Wels being killed by one of the mobs. “He hasn’t gotten too much wood before dying, but at the very least, he secured his spawn just enough he has some room to breathe. And hey, if he makes it out of there, he’s got a fortress nearby. But now to end this off, let’s head to the end.”

“TinfoilChef, or TFC is on the main end island, spawning on an obsidian platform just a few blocks from the edge of the island.” Goofball spoke. “It’s close enough for him to jump, but he still takes fall damage and has to deal with the ender dragon after that.”

“Not to mention the endermen too, which Scar is also having trouble with. He’s stuck on a smallish end island out in the further reaches of the end. There’s an end city nearby, but he doesn’t really have the means to get there. At the very least he’s got food from the chorus plants, but that won’t help too terribly much.”

“And lastly, there’s BdoubleO, who we’ve- who’s been lucky to not die so far being in a special situation.” Though they hadn’t been saying much, both Pixlriffs and Zloy noticed the slight slip up Goofball gave. “He’s currently looping in the end void, teleporting up to the top when he finally gets too low. There’s nothing in sight for him to know that though, so he thinks he’s just falling deeper and deeper. But hopefully he’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, that’s everyone, so that pretty much does it for this episode of Ev- Hermitcraft Recap. I was Toon Noah-”

“And I was Mysterious Goofball and our writer was Pin Valentine. If you’d like to see original content made by us, you can find us if you already know where to look.”

“Don’t forget to give this show a good rating and tune in next week for the next episode of Hermitcraft Recap. Thank you all so much for watching and good-Bye~!”

Finally, the screen turned black, signalling the end of the episode. The whole time, Pixl and Zloy had just sat there in shock, watching the episode and not saying anything. The thought of their show being taken over by some new people was scary enough, but the situations the Hermits were now in was so much worse.

Zloy was the first to move, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He had felt it going off during the episode, but had been too stunned to do anything. Apparently, he had missed multiple calls and texts about what had happened with the episode, who had been put in charge, what was with the hermits, and more related to the whole situation.

“We need to see someone about this.” Pixlriffs said, in a similar situation with looking at his phone. “Make sure people know we have no connection to this and hopefully also see if the studio knows who recorded this. I would also like to say that this is all fake, but…”

“Yeah, that footage looked way too real. I think the Hermits are actually in a lot of trouble right now.”

“Then let’s do something about it.”

[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

*

PART ONE

*

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

[scattered-winter]

For the ask game... whichever character appears first in your most recent WIP (or second if you've already answered for that character) - Clone Anon

ayo!!!!!! clone anon!!!!! it's been a hot minute!!! <3

listen the character that appears in my most recent WIP is Jesse McCree from Overwatch and I refuse to apologize for that. he's my skrungly. here's the ramble

favorite thing about him

first of all, my favorite thing about him is that, in a futuristic world with robots and time travel, my mans decided to become a cowboy. what an icon

secondly I love his sense of humor! he's very dry and frank and tbh it's just really fucking funny to see, especially during a fight

least favorite thing about him

idk his deranged cowboy energy has captivated me body and soul. I can't think of a reason to dislike the guy

favorite line

nothing in particular but the fact that he's so dedicated to the cowboy aesthetic that he speaks in a drawl and has all the cowboy sayings??? truly a legend

brOTP

Genji and McCree are BROS and I will DIE ON THIS HILL. they're menaces together <3

nOTP

at first I didn't really know of any but then I remembered a pairing I saw today that made me gag: Gabe and McCree. that's his DAD you sickos!

OTP

I am a yeehan truther myself. partly because of the ship itself, mostly because of the outstanding ship name. also the inherent comedy of dating your best friend's brother. I like to imagine that Genji told McCree a lot of stories about his brother (mostly how he, I dunno, almost murdered him) and so McCree developed a strong dislike for the guy on behalf of his bestie but then he and Hanzo met face to face and he was just "ah. Ah."

also there's the fact that they're literally two sides of a coin I mean C'MON. ITS ALL RIGHT THERE

they were both in an evil gang

they both left said evil gang and thus brought a heavy bounty on their heads

they're both haunted by their pasts

they're both capable of a lot of really fucked up stuff but they're genuinely trying to help make the world a better place

in other words they have captivated me <3 I'm completely normal about these blorbos from a game I've never played, I promise <- lying

random headcanon

he's asexual <3 sorry I don't make the rules

he's also the team's unofficial big brother. don't bother arguing with me. I'm right.

unpopular opinion

everyone hates on it but personally I think his belt buckle is FANTASTIC. you're all just mean and have horrible taste

another unpopular opinion is that I do not see the name change. I Simply Do Not See

song I associate with him

Pale Rider by The Heavy Horses (mostly because it plays in his character short shhh)

I Won't Back Down by Johnny Cash

favorite picture of him

LITERALLY HOW CAN A BABYGIRL BE SO BLORBO AND SO SKRUNGLY AT THE SAME TIME JUST LOOK AT HIM

send me a character!

[joaquinwhorres]

hoax (Ch. 1) {Sirius Black x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› It started out as a simple bet: who could get the girl chosen for them first? After four years of half-hearted attempts, Sirius decides it’s time to make a concerted effort to win over the notoriously undateable Florence Saise.

WORD COUNT ››››› 4,100-ish

WARNINGS ››››› Pretty much every chapter is going to have mentions of sex. Including this one.

A/N ››››› I'm so thankful to every single person who responded to my incessant "does this line make sense?" or "can you read this to tell me what you think?" Without you guys this never would have been uploaded, and I'd never already have the start of a second chapter.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

Florence Saise was rather convinced that she was the only person not excited to find themselves back at Hogwarts. Everyone else seemed to be coping with the looming start of the school year just fine, if the laughter and shouts that greeted her as she flung open the carriage door was any indication. It was, by all accounts that mattered, (which is to say, hers) not fair.

The blonde haired girl jumped down from the horseless carriage, landing with a heavier thump than might have been expected from her small frame. Before her, masses of students cursed up the hill chattering to one another with smiles on their faces. Not one had the same little crease between their eyebrows that threatened to turn into a full-on scowl.

It was as if every single one of them had either forgotten the bullshit that came along with living amongst their peers or were still blissfully unaware of the curse that was adolescence. Even her friends, who hopped down out of the carriage behind her, seemed too entrenched in the debate that had stretched from the train compartment to the carriage, to fully register what being back at Hogwarts meant.

"You've been quiet, Lory, what do you think?" Marlene asked, throwing an arm around Florence's shoulder as the small group of girls joined the throng of students.

"If Sebastian doesn't know what to do with his tongue when kissing, there's not much hope for him using it elsewhere. You'd do better with Roger."

"Aha!" Marlene cried out triumphantly, pointing a finger at Mary. "That makes it two for Roger, one for Sebastian, and one for giving up on boys all together," she tallied as Florence shrugged out from under her arm. Lily appeared on Florence's other side, trapping Florence in the middle of the group.

"You can't just use physical stuff as the metric for whether or not a relationship will be any good," Lily asserted. "There's more to dating than snogging and sex."

"Says the person who's never properly snogged anyone," Marlene stage whispered to Mary.

"Exactly," Lily said, perhaps a little too passionately. "And look how fulfilled I am."

Marlene shot Florence a skeptical look, and Lily reached across her to smack at Marlene's arm. This started another round of fierce debating, Lily reminding Mary that Sebastian had written her once a week all summer whereas Roger had only written four times, Marlene reminding Mary that she didn't want to die a virgin, and Dorcas reminding Mary that she never had any of these problems with her girlfriends.

Florence felt a dull needling, like a knuckle digging into the side of her head. At this rate, she was going to have a headache before they even reached the castle.

The Gryffindor strode ahead of the group, near enough that she wouldn't catch any flack for abandoning them but far enough that she could more easily drown out their bickering. She would give anything for just a single moment of peace today. Between her father and brother waking her up with their argument to Lily and Marlene's stupid battle over who Mary should date, all Florence wanted was ten minutes where she didn't get roped into playing referee.

But as she looked up ahead on the path, her eyes landing on James Potter and his crew, it seemed like peace was not in the cards for her today.

The group of boys were laughing amongst each other as they subtly enchanted trees to tap students on the shoulder or grab an unsuspecting second year. It was, objectively speaking, rather funny to witness the reactions of their various victims. One boy let out a startled shriek so loud, Florence would have expected it to come from a banshee. Another girl was attempting to fight off a branch that kept pulling at her plait. The problem with Potter and them's joke was not so much the unrest it caused amongst the students ahead of Florence.

The problem was Lily.

"You have got to be kidding me," Lily sighed, cutting Marlene off mid sentence. "What's even the point in making Remus a prefect if he's going to let his friends get away with everything?"

Before any of the girls had a chance to talk Lily down, the prefect marched up the hill with impressive speed, her hair billowing behind her.

"I am not missing this," Marlene said eagerly, grabbing Mary by the hand and tugging her up the hill with her. Dorcas and Florence shared a look and a sigh, before following them after Lily.

"Potter!" Lily shouted, and the group of boys came to an abrupt stop, nearly causing the group of Ravenclaws behind them to collide with their backs.

"Ah the dulcet tones of Lily Evans," James Potter said as he turned around to face the fuming redhead, a smirk set firmly in place.

Lily pulled up right in front of him, chest heaving from her quick trip up the hill. "You are to stop using magic at once or else I'll be forced to give you detention."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Potter said, tilting his head and allowing confusion to overtake his features. Lily's scowl deepened, clearly not buying the act. "I think you and I are both aware that it's against the rules to use magic before term starts, and we're not even at the castle yet."

Behind him, Pettigrew and Black snickered. The sound seemed to bolster James Potter's already rampant egotism as the smirk returned once more to his face.

"Unless of course, you're saying that I've enchanted you. Do you find me bewitching, Evans?" Potter asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"I think I've made it quite clear what I think of you, James Potter," Lily snapped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "10 points from Gryffindor."

"Ah, Evans," Potter tsked, as if regretting the fact that he would have to share bad news with her. "Prefects can't take points until the start of term. Learned that fourth year," he added on, dropping the sympathetic act.

Marlene nudged Florence with her elbow and held out her hand expectantly. Florence's eyes moved from the open palm to her friend's gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"I believe you owe me a hundred galleons," Marlene informed her, a smile tugging at her lips even as she fought to remain serious. "As James Potter has just confirmed that he has, in fact, learned something in his past five years here."

"That doesn't count," Florence said dryly, slapping Marlene's palm down even as Marlene grinned at her winningly. The stare off between a seething Lily and smug James was looking very much like it was about to end in a murder. Remus Lupin must have also caught onto this because he shook his head and finally stepped forward.

"Come on, let's at least make it to the castle this year before you and Lily have a row," he appealed, making a half-decent attempt at Prefect-like behavior.

Potter turned to his friend with a magnanimous smile. "Since you asked so kindly, Moony," Potter paused, shooting Lily a look. "I'll make sure there is no more confusion about whether or not we might have been doing magic. Watch carefully, Evans. I'm putting my wand in my back pocket. Feel free to track its progress up the hill," he added with a wink.

Lily let out a disgusted noise as Marlene snorted, and Potter turned to continue back up the hill with his friends, Sirius Black playfully pushing him as he rejoined the group.

"What a wanker," Lily murmured, watching the boys go.

"Maybe, but he's looking well fit," Marlene noted, taking Potter up on his offer to make sure his wand stayed in his back pocket. "You could do a lot worse than James Potter."

Lily whirled on Marlene, emitting a scandalized,  " Marlene! "

The dark haired girl laughed and shook her head. "Oh come off it, Lils, he's smart, funny, attractive, all of which is important to you, and," she looked around before leaning forward conspiratorially. "I've heard his wandwork isn't the only magical thing he can do with his hands." Marlene wiggled her fingers at Lily, who pulled back looking so pale that for a moment, Florence thought she might actually be sick.

Which was far too hilarious not to laugh at. So she did, earning a dark look from Lily and a shiteating grin from Marlene.

Lily rounded back on Marlene before shaking her head and starting back up to the castle.  "He's not funny; he's cruel. And he's only half as smart as he thinks he is."

"So you agree he's attractive?" Marlene asked, raising an eyebrow, and Lily's face turned bright red before she managed to sputter out a:

"Looks don't mean anything!"

"She's right," Dorcas added. Contributing to the conversation for the first time with the decisiveness that the girls had come to expect from her.  "Looks don't mean anything. But being good with his hands, well…"

Lily emitted a strangled sound somewhere between disbelief and mild outrage as the rest of her friends laughed at her and moved past on their way to the castle. A small feeling in Florence's chest loosened as she walked with them, the conversation alternating between teasing Lily and debating between Roger and Sebastian. Maybe this year wouldn't be quite as bad as the past five.

Naturally, the hope of a better year was squashed the very next day.

This, of course, should have been expected. After all, the first day of classes was primarily meant for overloading students with work they weren't yet prepared for and reminding them that their very futures depended on the mastery of the material. However, those spiels were not the giveaway that this year would be more or less the same in terms of teenage bullshit as the years prior. What it really came down to was her Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

The death of her hope began the moment she walked into the classroom and was faced with an obscenely tall and lanky man, dressed in a smart tweed suit with his chin length hair tucked behind his ears. A name was written in halting cursive on the chalkboard behind him.

Oleander Fernsby.

It was a ridiculous name for what was, by all indicators, a ridiculous man.

Although, as Florence watched the way his eyes darted around the classroom, shooting away every time a student got too close to making eye contact, she began to think that perhaps ridiculous was the wrong word. It suggested a certain confidence that this man in front of her was severely lacking.

It was painful to watch really, seeing him hoist the corners of his mouth up just to seem to lose his grip and have the smile come crashing down again. Both of his hands were shoved into his pants pockets, the right one fiddling with something it found in there so that the pocket almost seemed to flutter with his nervous energy. Even as she sat down next to Marlene, Florence couldn't take her eyes off of this clear disaster waiting to happen.

"This is going to be interesting," Marlene noted with raised eyebrows as she tapped her quill tip on the desk. "Reckon he'll make it the whole year?"

"Reckon he'll make it to the end of the month?" Florence returned, and Marlene snorted.

The last of the students shuffled into the room, claiming desks next to their friends and casting skeptical looks up at the unusual choice for professor. Even Remus Lupin looked unsure about Dumbledore's choice as he sat with eyebrows raised and a slight frown on his face.

The professor cleared his throat, which was completely ineffective when it came to quelling the murmurings of students sizing him up.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice dipping down into a mumble on the last syllable. As could be expected, the class' attention remained on their own conversations.

" Merlin's beard," Dorcas muttered under her breath from behind Florence. The professor furrowed his brow, a look of resolve on his face before trying again.

"Good morning." He had added a bit of volume and force assertiveness to his voice, but it wasn't until Potter hit Black on the shoulder and gestured with his head to the professor that the talking in the room tapered off. Faced with a room of quiet students, he succeeded in finally managing a weak smile.

"Good morning," he repeated, his voice soft but steady at least. "I'm Professor Fernsby, and I'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

It was hard to imagine this particular wizard ever standing up against the dark arts. He looked like he could hardly manage a boggart let alone a hag or Lethifold. Even faced with a room full of bored teenagers, he was crumbling under the pressure. Across the room Peter Pettigrew snickered, and Fernsby's expression faltered.

"I know that I am a new face here, and you've had five other professors, but I hope that together we'll have a good year this year and learn a lot."

Florence snorted and either Lily or Dorcas (probably Lily) jabbed a finger into her back in scolding.

Fernsby's smile flickered, and he paused. "Erm, yes. I know that this is your second class of the day, and it's early. The first years were all practically asleep at their desks this morning, but this is an NEWT-level class, so we will be covering rather complicated and dark material--oh! Yes, you there," Fernsby said, gesturing towards a student in the back. Florence turned, watching as Cassius Avery lowered his hand, a self-satisfied smirk already twisting at his lips.

"Can you explain what you mean by 'dark,' professor?"

The classroom went so still even Fernsby seemed to notice, his pocket fluttering once more.

"Well, we'll learn about the Unforgivable Curses. How to battle Inferi--"

"Will we be learning more about the Dark Arts themselves?" Avery interrupted, tilting back his chair so that it leaned against Thaddeus Nott's desk.

Fernsby's eyes flicked around the classroom as if looking for help from one of the students, but everyone remained still and quiet, watching to see what would happen. Florence set her jaw as she looked back at Avery who was looking rather smug. Beside him there was a glint in Thomas Mulciber's eye as if he were watching an animal fall into a trap.  "I'm not sure that would be entirely appropriate--" Fernsby started.

"I was just thinking that we should know how the Dark Arts work and such so we can properly defend ourselves?" Avery clarified and beside him Mulciber smirked. Florence's hand curled into a fist on her desk. "I mean, you want us to be prepared, don't you, professor? We need to know--"

"Avery you smarmy little git, would you shut up?" Florence snapped, and the eyes of the class shot over to her. But she was just looking at Avery whose eyes flashed angrily. "Even he's not thick enough to teach you how to curse someone. Go ask your dad. Or is he too busy shagging his cousin--I'm sorry, your mum."

There was a beat of silence as the whole class seemed to collectively hold its breath before across the room, Sirius Black broke out into a loud barking laughter, muffling whatever Avery snarled at Florence.

"Pardon?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, and though he opened his mouth to say it again, it wasn't Avery's voice, but Fernsby's she heard next.

"That is--that is quite enough," the professor finally interjected, and Florence turned around, ready for her detention or points to be docked, but as Fernsby's eyes landed on her and she met them with a fierce unrepentance, he wet his lips and moved on.

"Merlin's beard," Marlene whispered to Florence. "Been holding onto that for a while, haven't you?"

"After what he and Mulciber did last year to Mary, he's lucky I haven't set him on fire," Florence mumbled. "Last thing we need is that lot learning about the Dark Arts so they can practice on muggleborns."

Marlene nodded her agreement, and the two focused back on Fernsby who was presently taking attendance.

Class continued and with it the growing feeling that someone was attempting to stare daggers into the back of her head. When she finally turned with a raised eyebrow, she found that not only was Avery glaring at her, but Mulciber and Nott had also joined in their friend's effort. She gave the three of them the most saccharine smile she could muster and lifted a middle finger towards them. When she turned back to Fernsby, he was in the middle of listing his credentials and previous places of employment..

He had just finished on how formative his time in the Azkaban processing unit was when James Potter began to loudly pack up his bag. "And erm..." Professor Fernsby stopped, watching as Potter corked his inkwell and dropped it into his bag. "Mr….Potter was it?"

Potter looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor," he said, his face genuinely apologetic. "I thought you were about done."

"Done?" Fernsby asked. While the word might have cracked like a whip from McGonagall or Kettleburn, instead it came out rather helpless as he looked appealingly to Potter for an explanation.

"It's just that usually professors keep class short the first. To get us acclimated to the school schedule again, you know."

Fernsby said nothing, looking out over the class to see nods of assent. Even Dorcas kept quiet.

"He's right," Marlene said from next to her, and Florence's attention whipped to her friend. "Although usually they make us stay at least half the block," she added with a reproachful look to James.

"Ah, well, I suppose here is as good a place to stop as any," Professor Fernsby said. "Come ready to learn, as I will be picking up the pace as the year progresses."

He seemed rather proud of himself, Florence thought as she along with her classmates scurried to pack up their books before anyone could possibly grow a guilty conscience. He probably thought the early dismissal was a sign of kindness and not what it really was: blood in the water.

Shouldering her bag, Florence headed out behind Lily and Dorcas into the hallway.

"We're not going to learn anything all year," Dorcas moaned, tossing her head back to stare miserably at the ceiling.

"It's going to be an easy O at least," Lily sighed. "And besides, next year it'll be someone new. Maybe they'll be able to catch us up."

Dorcas wilted a little, head coming back down to face forward with a pout tugging down her lips. "I suppose."

Marlene looked disbelievingly at the group. "Are we really not going to talk about Avery?"

"Do we have to?" Mary asked with a shudder. "He's so creepy. "

"That whole group is destined for Azkaban," Lily murmured, shaking her head.

"Not if Lory gets to them first," Marlene countered, smirking.

Florence shrugged, "I already told you I didn't think Fernsby had the backbone to tell him no."

"Right, but going after his dad like that?" Marlene pressed, raising her eyebrows at Florence as if to prompt an explanation.

"Everyone knows the Sacred Twenty-Eight's inbred," a voice drawled from behind the group. Lily rolled her eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh through her nose as Potter, Black, Remus, and Pettigrew interspersed themselves amongst the girls. "After all, you're looking at someone whose father shagged his cousin. Thankfully all of the negative effects of my parents' decision to procreate saved themselves for Regulus. Florence snorted at this, and Marlene barked out a laugh. Even Lily's lips quirked up into a reluctant half smile. "I have to say, Saise, that was a thing of sheer beauty in there. I think I might have even fallen in love with you a little," Black grinned.

Florence rolled her eyes and shook her head, even as the grin stayed on her lips. "I hope you're prepared for heartbreak then. Pettigrew, I'd start collecting chocolate frogs now, he's going to need them."

A quick confusion crossed Pettigrew's face as he darted a glance at Black, as if to ask if Florence was serious. But his friend was too busy throwing a hand over his heart and staggering back as if wounded.

"Should I get some chocolate frogs too, Evans? Or are you planning on sparing my heart this year?" Potter asked, grinning winsomely at Lily.

She gave him a tight lipped grin back, tilting her head towards him. "You should get as many as you can and stick them in your bag. That way, every time you have even the faintest impulse to ask me out, you can take one out and shove it in your mouth to save us both the trouble."

With that, Lily brushed her hair over her shoulder and moved forward to link arms with Florence, turning them both around to march down the hallway and away from their heartbroken boys.

"I think there was progress," James said, piling potatoes onto his plate once the boys had sat down for lunch. The past forty-five minutes that they should have spent in Defense Against the Dark Arts had been devoted instead to James' eternal pining over Lily Evans. "She didn't call me any names."

"Didn't need to, mate," Sirius said, snagging the serving spoon from James. "Her face and tone of voice largely did that for her."

"Yeah? What'd it say?" James asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched Sirius spoon potatoes next to his sausage.

Sirius straightened up in his seat, pointing the spoon at James. "It said, James Potter, you are a complete tosser," he said, mimicking Lily's high voice, much to the amusement of both Remus and Peter.

James looked down the table to where Lily tossed her head back laughing at something Mary Macdonald said. The lack of outright animosity had been progress, but she still didn't look at him with even a fraction of the warmth she gave to everyone else. Lily caught sight of him and the smile slid from her face, settling into a look of pure disdain before she turned back to her friends and said something that made Marlene McKinnon almost spit out her pumpkin juice.

"Well at least I can say I'm trying," James protested, turning back to face Sirius.

"Trying what? To get Lily Evans to hex your arse halfway 'cross the country?" Sirius asked. "Because that is about the only thing you're set to succeed at with her."

James scoffed before growing serious.  "I'm trying to win the bet."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at his best friend, and even Peter seemed to have checked back in to the conversation. Remus however let out a groan and set down the book he'd been reading so he didn't have to listen to James going on about Lily. "I thought you two had given that up."

"It was just on hiatus for a while," Sirius dismissed, picking up his fork to dig into his lunch. "Because unlike Prongs, I don't have to spend years just to get Saise to tolerate being in the same room as me."

"And yet," James said, picking up his own fork. "You still haven't won."

"Well, I've been a bit too busy with other matters to be worried much about the birds?"

"Like what?" Remus asked, picking his book back up.

"Largely, being the family disappointment," Sirius remarked with some finality as he bit into his sausage.

James just laughed at this. "Please, you have about as much interest in dating as Saise does. One of you is going to call it quotes before you can even go public--let alone last two weeks."

"All I'm saying is that at least Saise doesn't actively detest the very sight of me," Sirius shrugged, taking another bite of his food.

"I'm making progress."

"Of course you are, mate," Sirius nodded, navigating the words around the mouthful of food.

James shook his head at Sirius, "Padfoot, when it comes right down to it , I don't even think you could get Saise out of her knickers, let alone date you."

Sirius scoffed. "Everyone can get her out of her knickers. Everyone practically has gotten Saise out of her knickers."

Remus looked up from his book, a frown tugging at his features. "That's an ugly thing to say Sirius," he scolded, but Sirius looked completely unrepentant.

"It's not like it's a secret that practically our entire year has shagged Florence. Everyone knows what she's like," Peter shrugged.

"Exactly. Thank you, Wormtail," Sirius said. "But if you're so certain I can't do it, Prongs, then you'd have no problem making a little add on to our bet. Right?"

"No problem at all," James said, smugly.

"Great," Sirius said, leaning forward on his elbows. "Let's talk terms."