#anyways hopefully I’ll have more drawings to post today!! we’ll see!! for now I gotta sleep so gn!! :)

[feeling--pink]

With Halloween coming up I HAD to do an Over the Garden Wall sticky note week!!! :D

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter eighteen

Helloooo I almost posted this yesterday as a thank you gift and then I totally got caught up in schoolwork. Gotta love finals season am I right

Anywho, thank y’all so much for 1.7k followers <3 Here’s a long ass chapter that’s a good ol’ mix of fluff and angst xx.

Chapter Warnings: waking-up-together kinda fluff, no sexytimes but there are some ~suggestive~ comments of course, ANGST at the end (i’m so sorry), the end of this case is very near on the horizon

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Aaron wakes you when his first alarm goes off at 5a.m. It’s way too fucking early in your opinion, but you know he wants you to have time to go back to Emily and JJ’s room to get ready for the day.

Still, being woken by a kiss on your forehead is something you can see yourself getting used to. Not to mention using his chest as a pillow all night.

You tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, not caring that the both of you probably have disgusting morning breath right now.

He pulls away first, nudging your nose with his before he rests his forehead on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Good morning, sweet girl.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Good morning.” You close your eyes in your flustered state, burying your face down into his chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I want you to stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” you sigh, opening your eyes to bring yourself back to reality. Then, you hook your arms around his neck, starting to grin. “Same thing tonight?”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Depends on how much of a good girl you are today.”

“Ooh, a challenge,” you tease. “I dunno…I’m feeling pretty bratty this morning.”

You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him in warning.

“I’m just teasing,” you murmur, propping your chin on his chest, giving him your best eyes.

But he isn’t fazed. “I know. I’m keeping track.”

So, naturally, you pout. “Fine.”

“Strike two.”

“I have a feeling this isn’t like baseball. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Are you trying to find out?”

“Mm, maybe?” You grin, but, as always, the FBI Agent part of your brain comes back to life. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs soon, I’d say yes. But I probably should go get dressed.”

“Understood,” Aaron replies, a small grin on his lips too. “I suppose even as your boss, I can’t keep you here.”

“As my boss, we’re technically not even supposed to be in the same bed together,” you remind him with a snort, but seriousness comes over him. “What?”

“We still need to talk,” he says quietly. “Really talk about this, but right now I just want you to know...I don’t regret this. I want this. No matter the consequences.”

“Me too,” you whisper, fingernails gently scratching the base of his skull, your weak attempt at comfort. “Do you think there’ll be consequences?”

He sighs, and you rise and fall with his chest. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “If Strauss finds out somehow, maybe. I don’t know if keeping it from her until she inevitably finds out is better than telling her ourselves, but…”

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a small smile. “But you wanna do this?”

Instead of answering you verbally, he pulls you closer for a soothing kiss, coaxing all your worries away.

“I want to do this,” he says, knowing you need to hear the words from his voice.

“Okay,” you murmur, taking a deep breath. “What do we do about the team?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

You give him a tired look. “Come on. They know.”

“What?” He blurts, sitting up a little, taking you with him. “Rossi knows.”

“And Emily and JJ and Garcia,” you chuckle. “I didn’t even tell them. Emily saw us at dinner one night. JJ figured it out from the phone call a few days ago. Garcia just...knows.”

“What about Morgan and Reid?”

“Are you kidding me? Morgan knows. Have you seen how he irritates the shit out of me every day?”

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “He does it every day.”

“Have you noticed how he’s been doing it especially when you’re around?” You raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re our supervisor! I thought you were a better profiler than that!”

“We have a rule not to profile each other,” he says sternly, obviously a little butthurt that he didn’t see that everyone else knew.

“A rule that none of us stick to, by the way,” you laugh. “We just don’t voice it. But we do. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet,” he admits.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It wasn’t hard. I caught myself profiling everyone. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who does it by accident.”

Aaron only smiles. He’s amazed by you every single day. Sometimes he wonders if you even know how intelligent you are. If you even know the full scope of your mind. Maybe you don’t, maybe no one does.

“But anyway,” you swerve back on track. “I feel like it should be unspoken, but just...no PDA, you know? It’s fine that they know because honestly I think they knew before we knew, but let’s not make it a big deal.”

“Agreed,” he nods. “We still need to be professional.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, glad to be on the same page.

His second alarm goes off, the one for 5:30, and you groan, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Why does it have to be so early?” You mutter, your lips brushing against his skin as you speak. It sends a hot wave through him, one that causes him to promptly shift your body off of him. “What are you doing?”

“You need to go get dressed,” he says. “And if you stay here wrapped around me any longer, I won’t be able to let you leave.”

You grin. “Point taken.”

You roll off the mattress, fully aware that he’s looking at your ass, and at your entire body, marveling at the way you look in his shirt.

“Oh,” you say, doing a dramatic turn, watching his eyes very quickly move back to your face. “Do you have any boxers? I probably shouldn’t walk down the hall in just a shirt.”

He’s scrambling for a pair of his boxer briefs, the thought of anyone else seeing you just like this making his blood boil frighteningly fast.

“Thanks,” you smirk when he hands them to you. And you put them on in front of him, partly for a show and partly because the look he was giving you demanded it. “I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nods. “Try not to spend too much time gossiping.”

“Oh, please,” you shake your head. “They’re getting all the details.”

You’re out the door before he can even catch you, and you just know you’re going to get it later.

+++

Emily and JJ are on you as soon as you open the door, both of them dressed and ready, arms folded over their chests like Moms whose daughter stayed out too late last night.

In a way, that’s completely accurate.

“And where have you been?” JJ asks, fully entering her Mom persona.

“Uhm, a friend’s house?” You play along, trying to inch your way to the bathroom.

But Emily knows your move, and stands in front of the bathroom door. “Is this friend named Aaron?”

“...maybe.”

And the façade falls, because they both cheer, pulling you into a hug.

“Finally!” Emily screams.

“Finally, what?” You laugh. “The night before I was also in his room.”

“Oh, we know,” JJ assures you.

“Finally, you admit it,” Emily clarifies. “So...details?”

“So...we have to be downstairs soon and I need to get dressed,” you walk past them to your bag. After grabbing your clothes, you turn back around to find them still staring at you. “What?”

“You’re in his shirt,” JJ says, still smiling.

“And boxers,” you laugh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up a little. “Guys, don’t make this a big thing.” You pause, heading toward the bathroom. “He was a little upset that I knew everyone knew, and he didn’t.”

“How did he not?” Emily scoffs. “He can be so dense.”

You shake your head, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed and looking more presentable, Emily and JJ are finally getting ready, too. They still watch you like a pair of hawks stalking prey, though. You just hope they won’t make any comments later.

That’s wishful thinking and you know it. But hopefully the comments will be held in at least until you’re all on the jet, heading back to Virginia.

+++

When you walk out of the elevator with Emily and JJ, you find Hotch standing with Rossi, the former looking much more grave than you left him. And he’s on the phone.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, picking up the pace. You glance at Hotch, silently asking, and he nods. “There’s another body,” you fill in Emily and JJ, ignoring the strange look that Rossi gives you.

Once Hotch hangs up, he looks immediately at you. “There’s two bodies. Male and female.”

“What?” Emily blurts. “In the same location?”

He nods. “Same house.”

About this time, Morgan and Reid step out of the elevator, jogging over when they see the team’s faces.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asks.

“Two bodies this time, same house, male and female,” you explain briefly.

Hotch jumps in. “JJ: you, Reid, and Y/N head over to the precinct and get Garcia on the phone. Get her to find everything she can on these new victims.”

You nod, glad he’s not sending you to see anymore bloodied bodies. Just the thought has a chill running down your spine.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s hard not to picture Trevor’s face. It’s hard not to feel the thrill of the possibility of revenge. But you know that’s only the irrational part of your brain. You know you wouldn’t really act on those thoughts.

But they’re still there.

+++

Back at the precinct, you’re dialing Garcia and stirring a cup of shitty coffee. When she picks up, she sounds about as frizzed as you feel.

“Good morning, my angel sent from Heaven,” she sings, sounding far too bright for seven in the morning. “What can I do you for?”

“Good morning,” you chuckle. “We’ve got two new victims.”

“Mm, I know,” she groans, and you begin to hear typing. “Morgan texted me their names, I was waiting for your call.”

“Yep, we just need you to work your magic, that’s all.”

“That I can do,” she replies, no doubt through a smile. “Speaking of magic…”

You already know where this is heading. “Seriously? Who told you?”

“JJ and Emily texted me,” Garcia admits. “But you know I was going to weasel it out of you eventually, anyway!”

“Yes, I know,” you roll your eyes, tossing the coffee stirrer and empty cream and sugar packets in the trash. “Listen, how about this: Once this case is over, we’ll all have a girl’s night at my place with a bunch of junk food and wine, and I’ll give all the details -- whatever they might be at that point.”

You can’t let yourself believe that you’ll still be together because who knows what could happen. Anything could happen. The universe has a bad habit of getting in the way of your love life.

“You know the way to my heart,” Garcia sighs dreamily. “It’s a date. Speaking of dates, it looks like our two victims were married.”

“Married?” You nearly yell. Talk about a plot twist. “And the guy brought our unsub home for a one-night stand?”

“Looks that way so far,” Garcia says with a grimace. “Caroline Merritt, 35, was the CEO of her own company and traveled a lot. It looks like she changed flights yesterday and landed around eleven p.m. She checked her car out of the airport parking lot at eleven forty-five.”

“Great, so she might’ve walked in on our unsub.” You rub your forehead from the stress. “What about the other victim?”

“Jasper Rhodes was 34 and a part-time worker at the local Walmart,” Garcia lists off. “They had been married for three years, but Caroline never changed her last name.”

“Don’t exactly blame her,” you remark. “Alright, which one had allegations?”

“I’m about to burst your bubble, babycakes. Neither of them.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Garcia echoes, just as solemn. “Caroline has a squeaky clean record, aside from one speeding ticket when she was seventeen for going forty-five in a school zone. Jasper also has a clean slate for a record, but he does have one DUI from when he was twenty-two. Nothing else since.”

“It’s been twelve years, so for all we know, he could be sober for a decade now,” you mutter. “Okay. Do they have any connection at all to our other victims? Please say yes.”

“Cross referencing as we speak,” Garcia says, typing furiously. “Almost done… Negative,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “Thank you for being such a wizard, as always.”

“It’s my specialty,” she quips. “So...do I get some details about you and Hotch now?”

“Goodbye Garcia…” You chuckle, ending the call before she can ask anything else.

You walk back into the conference room, shaking your head sadly at JJ who looks up with hopeful eyes.

“Garcia found virtually nothing. Caroline got a speeding ticket at seventeen, and Jasper a DUI at twenty-two. Nothing since. And no connection to any of our other victims,” you relay the information, ending it with a sip of your coffee.

“This unsub is good,” JJ says, exasperated. “How is she always three steps ahead of us?”

“She’s not, really,” Reid says, and you can feel something else coming on. “It’s like she knows we’re closing in on her, so she’s going after those who have no reported allegations. She’s not as far ahead as we think, but maybe that’s what she wants us to think.”

“Reid, dude, you’re sounding like a fortune cookie right now,” you laugh. “I get where you’re going with this. But unless they find some DNA at the crime scene, we’re back to square one again.”

“Maybe…” He trails away, getting up to look at the map.

Something is going on in his head, but you’re not sure what. He’ll tell you when he’s finished with it, you’re sure.

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing. Thinking it’s Garcia, you pull it out and answer without looking, but Garcia’s voice isn’t what you hear on the other end.

“I’m heading back to the precinct,” Hotch says.

“O...kay,” you furrow your eyebrows, mouthing, ‘Hotch’ to JJ. “Why just you?”

“I need to show you something,” he says slowly, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “The unsub left a note.”

“What does it say?” You ask, wondering why it’s like pulling teeth to get him to speak.

“It’s addressed to you,” he finally says, and all the blood drains from your body. “It’s in an envelope and sealed. Your… Your name is on the front.”

You’re not sure what to make of that at all.

“Okay,” you say, your brain unable to really process it. “Okay, we’ll look at it when you get here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t say that to me. You’re scaring me.” You pause. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this note,” he replies, voice quiet. “For this unsub targeting you, and now for scaring you.”

“What does the note say?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t open it.”

“Okay. Just...hurry, I guess.”

“I’m turning into the parking lot now.”

“Okay, see you in a sec,” you murmur, ending the call.

You look up from the phone to find both JJ and Reid staring at you, concern swimming deeply in their eyes. You don’t even have the energy to offer them a reassuring smile. Nothing about this is comfortable for you.

Why would the unsub leave a note addressed to you?

Hotch walks through the precinct doors a few moments later, a man on a mission as he walks directly to the conference room. You’re explaining to JJ and Reid about the note when he walks in, and you fall silent upon seeing him.

He hates that he even called you to warn you, but he had to do something. His mind was racing on the drive. He had to hear your voice, and he knew you were bound to ask why he was coming back on his own, what’s so urgent, so he knew he’d have to tell you.

But the fear in your eyes right now is something he never wants to see again. Ever.

“Where is it?” You say, your voice wavering.

Slowly, Hotch pulls the envelope out of his jacket pocket. It’s in a plastic bag, which is standard protocol for evidence, and you begin searching for a pair of gloves.

You find a pair and start to slip them on, grimacing at the way your hands shake, and using your peripheral vision to see that Aaron is watching you closely.

Once you’re gloved up, he hands you the plastic bag. It feels much heavier than it should.

Carefully, you pull out the envelope, swallowing down the nausea you’re feeling. As Hotch said, your name -- Agent Y/N L/N -- is scrawled on the front in messy handwriting. Fortunately, Reid can examine that, and this letter if it’s handwritten.

You break the seal on the envelope, flinching slightly, and ignoring that you did. But Aaron saw it.

You pull out the note and half of you cries in relief because it is handwritten, and the other half of you feels sheer terror because your business card is taped to the top left hand corner.

“Shit,” you cuss, closing your eyes.

“What?” Aaron asks, taking a step closer, lowering his head to meet your eye level.

“My business card,” you say, opening your eyes again, hating the way things look blurry for a moment. JJ and Reid are just fuzzy figures at the table when you look around the room. “It could’ve been anyone at the meetings. I handed my card to as many that would take it. There’s no way I’ll remember everyone, or even half of them, I mean, I ran out of cards, I had to go stand by Morgan because--”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Aaron stops you, putting both hands on your arms. “Look at me, please.”

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and you meet his brown eyes, finding your peace there like you have so many other times before. You focus on the weight of his hands on your arms, grounding you, bringing you back.

“I know it’s difficult,” he says. “But you need to breathe.”

You nod, sucking in a deep breath a little too abruptly, not even realizing you had been taking shallow breaths in the first place.

“Good girl,” he whispers, so low that he’s almost mouthing it, careful not to let JJ or Reid hear. And it’s not sexual or sensual this time. It’s comforting. “Can you read the rest of it?”

You nod. “I can help you end your suffering. I can help you avenge. I can help you heal. It doesn’t have to be this way.” You pause, looking up from the note, looking between Hotch, JJ, and Reid. “What does that even mean?”

“Did you talk about your experience during the meetings?” Reid asks.

“A little bit, but I barely scratched the surface of it,” you admit. “And I didn’t mention any names. I might hate him, but...I’d never send a serial killer after him.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “We’re not accusing you of that,” he adds gently. “It’s clear our unsub feels a connection to you now. Something you said must’ve resonated deeply with her.”

“But all I said was that he was my fiancé and that I didn’t report him, so that still gets us nowhere. She’s still a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” he says sternly. “We will find her. You’ve already seen her once.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember seeing her, Hotch.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s reaching out. Which means we’re close.”

“Not close enough,” you protest, tossing the letter back on the plastic bag on the table. “I need to take a walk.” You move toward the door, and he’s following you, so you add quietly, “Alone, please.”

Hotch nods, and watches you go, more worried than he’s ever been in his life.

+++

When Rossi, Emily, and Morgan return to the police precinct, they spot you sitting alone on a bench outside the front doors.

“I got this,” Morgan says, hopping out of the car and heading to you, gesturing for Rossi and Emily to head inside. They share a look and nod, disappearing into the precinct to leave Morgan alone with you.

You don’t even look up from your hands when you see Morgan coming over from your peripheral vision.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Derek.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, sitting next to you on the bench, stretching his arm out behind you. “What’s going on? You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me.”

You snort. “I know.”

“So…” He pauses. “Tell me. It’ll save us both a whole lotta time. And it’ll save you a whole lotta stress, sittin’ there with all that in your head.”

You know he’s right. And you know he’s the only one who really gets it.

So, you tell him what’s wrong.

“The unsub left that note just for me. My card was taped to it, Morgan.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? It means I laid eyes on her, maybe talked to her, handed her my fucking card, and I still didn’t know it was her.”

“We’re not superhuman, Y/N. We only see what they show us. She probably put on a mask while talking to you.”

“Well now she’s still out there--”

“Listen to me. I ran out of cards too, remember? We started using yours. I easily could’ve given her your card. Hell, I was there with you, I probably looked at her a dozen times, too. Are you gonna yell at me for not recognizing her?”

“No--”

“Then stop doing it to yourself, you hear me?”

“I just… She feels a connection to me. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re a relatable person,” Derek offers, causing you to glare at him. “Hey,” he raises a hand in surrender. “I’m just being logical. It doesn’t say anything about you. Because a serial killer’s view of you is not who you are. You are who you are.”

“Thanks for the fortune cookie.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, kid,” he replies tiredly. “You know you’re not really mad at me, so don’t take it out on me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you rub your forehead. “I’m just…”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you still need to hear it,” he says. “And I’ll always be here to tell you, got that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “Got it.”

He smiles too, glad to see you’re feeling better. He shoves your shoulder lightly, playfully. “Come on. Let’s get back in there.”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up.

He walks ahead, but you stay still, wondering if you should even ask what you’re about to ask. But Derek notices your hesitation and turns back around, studying you.

“Spit it out,” he says, knowing there’s something.

“The unsub is trying to talk to me,” you say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “So...what if we set up a trap.”

“What?” Morgan deadpans, raising his eyebrows, turning his body to completely face you.

“What if we--”

“Use you as bait?” Morgan finishes, incredulity coating his words.

You nod. “I wasn’t going to word it like that, but--”

He scoffs, looking more and more pissed off as the seconds go on. “Hell no. Are you outta your damn mind?”

“No, I’m not. I’m--”

“No,” he stops you, holding up his hand, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t go there. We will find this unsub, and we will do it without you sacrificing yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be sacrificing myself!” You protest. “You guys would be there. You’d have my back.”

“We can’t predict everything this unsub will do, Y/N, you know that,” Morgan fires back. “And I’ll be damned if I let you throw yourself into danger like this. It’s not happening. You hear me?”

SIghing, you nod. “I hear you.”

“Have you even told Hotch about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t,” Morgan replies. “You’ll just get a lecture and you and I both know you don’t need that right now.”

“I know.”

He pauses, shaking his head. He steps forward, wrapping you in a hug, eyes closing when he feels you burying your face in his neck. “I love you, kid,” he whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but you got this, we got this. And it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Next chapter

[grantyort]

Prelude IV: Relight

Post-Surgery: DAY ONE

[Sean sits in the hospital bed, legs crossed, staring into space when he hears a familiar voice.]

Joey: Sean, Sean Diaz? Well damn. I never thought I’d see your sorry ass again!

Sean: Geez Joey. Is that how you talk to all your patients?

Joey: Just the ones I like.

[Sean chuckles]

Joey: C’mere big man.

[Joey gives Sean a big bear hug]

Sean: How’ve you been Joey?

Joey: Can’t complain. These days, they got me up in hospice care. You’re probably the first person I’ve seen today that didn’t need their bedpans changed.

Sean: Sounds terrible.

Joey: It’s all not all bad. Lot of these folks have stories that you wouldn’t believe. One of my patients has lived through five wars and two depressions, tells me I’m a credit to my race.

Sean: Yeesh.

Joey: (shrugs) She means well. It’s almost flattering compared to some of the stuff I’ve heard. Been on this job almost ten years now, some people still treat me like I have no idea what I’m doing.  

Sean: That sucks Joey.

Joey: Yeah... Anyway, you seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. From what I heard, this procedure cost a small fortune. You must have friends in high places.

Sean: Yeah, something like that.

Joey: And no guard at the door this time. I assume everything got cleared up with the police? Not planning to make a break for it again are ya?

Sean: Nah, no daring escapes this time.

Joey: Good. I don’t think I’d survive another blow to the head.

Sean: Listen Joey I’m really sorry-

Joey: (laughs) Relax Sean! I’m just messing with you! It’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned. Say, did you ever end up finding that brother of yours?

Sean: Yeah. He’s actually coming to visit me tomorrow.

Joey: Can’t wait to meet him!

Sean: Famous last words.

Joey: So… what you been up to these days?

Sean: Mostly just cramming for the SATs, drawing, listening to music. Normal teenage shit.

Joey: That’s good to hear. I was worried about you man. You went AWOL after the hospital. I got police and Feds breathing down my neck for weeks. Then a month later, I hear about a couple of kids trying the border to Mexico on the news.

Sean: Sorry I never reached out. I just didn’t want to get you more involved than you already were-

Joey: You made the right call. They questioned me for hours. My apartment was filled with G-men, my girlfriend was freaked. I honestly thought she was going to dump my ass.

Sean: I’m really sorry Joey.

Joey: Don’t sweat it Sean, it was for a good cause. Besides, everything worked out in the end.

Sean: Yeah I noticed, how long have you been-

Joey: Almost a year now. We’re expecting our first baby in the summer.

Sean: Congratulations dude!

Joey: Thanks, but honestly, I’m kinda nervous, don’t think I’m ready to be a father.

Sean: You’ll be a great dad, Joey. You’re awesome at taking care of people.

Joey: You’re damn right. Speaking of which, we should probably take a look at that eye of yours.

[Joey takes off the bandage and gives Sean’s eye a thorough examination]

Joey: Well it looks a helluva lot better than the last time I saw it.

Sean: That’s good to hear. I wasn’t sure it would work.

Joey: Well it’s too early to say if your vision will fully recover. But at the very least you won’t have to walk around with a patch anymore.

Sean: Good. It’s hard enough finding a prom date let alone one that’s willing to go with a pirate.

Joey: Still with the pirate jokes huh? Hopefully, you’ll have to write some new material after this.

[Joey applies a new bandage on Sean’s eye]

Joey: And you’re all set. Now as much as I love our talks, I gotta make my rounds. Buzz me if you need me.

Sean: Later Joey.

Joey: See ya tomorrow Sean.

 [Joey leaves the room. Sean turns to look out the window. The door shoots open, and a small figure comes bursting in.]

Daniel: Sean! 

[He jumps onto the bed and into Sean’s arms]

Stephen: (out-of-breath) Sorry, I tried to stop him, but he outran me.

Sean: You okay Stephen?

Stephen: I am… just need a minute to catch my breath. The old ticker ain’t what it used to be- I need to sit down.

Daniel: Take it easy grandpa.

Sean: What are you doing here, enano? I wasn’t expecting you guys until tomorrow.

Daniel: I made grandpa book an earlier flight. I just couldn’t wait! 

[he hugs Sean again]

Sean: Haha easy. I just had surgery, remember?

Daniel: Oh right, s-sorry.

[There’s a brief flash, followed by a shutter click]

Sean: What’re you doing, gramps?

Stephen: Oh nothing, just commemorating the moment. Thanks to your brother, I finally got the hang of this newfangled smartphone camera.

Daniel (whispering): He had it stuck on selfie mode for days. Anyway, did it go? Is your eye…

Sean: I mean… it’s not 100% yet but I can sort of see again.

Daniel: T-that’s awesome! Can I see it?

Sean: Dude last time I showed you my eye, you almost cried. Besides, the doctors say I still need to keep the bandage on for a bit, while it heals.

Daniel: Right. That makes sense. Oooh this room looks cool. Do they have Netflix or a Playbox?

Sean: It’s a hospital, dude.

Daniel: Lame.

Sean: So catch me up. Did I miss anything interesting at home?

Daniel: Nah… Chris is still on that fishing trip with his dad so there’s no one to hang out with. Oh I almost forgot. He made you this card. Isn’t it awesome?

[Daniel gives Sean a hand-drawn “get-well-soon” card from Chris]

Sean: Yeah. It’s pretty cool. We can have Claire put it up when we get back.

Daniel: Grandma’s still in that feud with the lady from church.

Sean: Which one was that again?

Daniel: Agnes, the one who gives off major Lisbeth-vibes. She says grandma stole her casserole recipe for the church bake-sale. Lying bitch.

Stephen: Language!

Sean: Maybe one of us should try to smooth things over before it gets nasty.

Stephen: Hell hath no fury… lemme tell ya. I’ve been married to your grandmother long enough to know once that woman sets her mind on something… there’s no stopping her. Best to just let things run their course.

Sean: Claire can get a little… passionate sometimes. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen her lose her temper for real.

Stephen: There’s a fire in that woman. It’s part of the reason I married her. Just pray she never turns it on you. I hope I’ll never live to see that day, god willing.

[Sean notices Daniel circling the hospital bed, pressing his hand on various parts of the mattress]

Sean: (laughs) What are you doing, enano?

Daniel: Just trying to figure which side of the bed I want to sleep on tonight.

Sean: Dude. There’s no way this bed’s gonna fit both of us.

Daniel: The one in Mom’s trailer was way smaller!

Sean: Yeah well… you were a lot smaller back then.

Stephen: They have a nice area for visitors down the hall.

Daniel: But I want to stay with Sean!

Sean: I guess I could ask Joey to bring in a couch or something.

Daniel: Who’s Joey?

Sean: The nurse who took care of me after the accident. I told you about him, remember?

Daniel: Oh right! I can’t wait to meet him!

 DAY TWO

Joey: How are we doing today? Any headaches, dizziness, socket pain?

Sean: Nah it’s all good. Still getting used to having depth perception again. It’s kinda weird.

Joey: You’ll get used to it. Anything else to report?

Sean: Nothing major. I’ve just been having some really weird dreams.

Joey: We have a psychiatrist on-site if you need a professional to talk to.

Sean: Nah it’s alright, probably just the drugs messing with my brain.

Joey: Well your vitals look good. We’ll go over some basic tests. You know the drill.

(Sean covers his right eye and tries to read the chart. Joey then shines a light and asks him to follow along. Finally, he asks Sean to put the cap back on the pen.)

Joey: You passed with flying colors. The doctor will be in for a final exam tomorrow and then we can discharge you.

Sean: (sarcastically) Too bad, I was ready to become the first Mexican pirate to attend college. So much for being a trailblazer.

Joey: Good to see you haven’t lost that snarky-ass sense of humor.

Joey: Anyway, I’m taking my lunch now. Want me to get you anything from the cafeteria? Wait… don’t tell me. Chocolate pecan?

Sean: You know it.

Joey: I met your brother in the hall. Cute kid.

Sean: (deadpans) Give it a few days. Then see if you get a “second opinion.”

Joey: He does seem a little… “energetic”. But that’s normal for kids his age.

Sean: Yeah one minute I’m his favorite person in the world. The next, he’s off doing God knows what, and doesn’t want me “bossing him around”. You know how it is.

Joey: Can’t say I do. Grew up in a house with three older sisters. Guess I must have been the annoying one. Daniel’s lucky to have you looking out for him. Must be tough sometimes.

Sean: Oh you have no idea.

[Joey claps Sean’s shoulder, he feels a jolt shooting up his spine, everything goes white] 

(Sean sees a door marked: “Miranda A. Connolly, Hospital Director”)

Connolly: You’ve been a valuable asset to this hospital. Stellar feedback from all of your patients and attendings.

Joey: I sense a “but” coming.

Connolly: But, given the dubious circumstances surrounding your transfer and your past involvement with the law. The Board thinks it might be better for one of the other nurses to take this spot.

Joey: Please. I’ve got a kid on the way. We just bought our first house. Can you at least consider bumping up my pay? I haven’t gotten a real raise since I started here. There are kids coming out of nursing school that make what I make!

Connolly: The hospital has limited resources as it is, and the State just slashed our funding again. I just can’t justify raising anyone’s salary right now.

Joey: I break my back for this hospital, work extra shifts, get to know the patients. You promised me at the annual review that I’d-

Connolly: That was before this new information came to light. I’m sorry Joseph, maybe next year.

[Sean snaps out of his trance]

Joey: Sean? Sean are you okay?

Sean: Sorry, Guess I spaced out. Must just be the medication.

Joey: I can have the doctor come by and adjust your dosage.

Sean: I’m fine Joey. I swear. Weren’t you about to take lunch?

Joey: Oh right. We’ll pick this up later.

[Joey leaves the room, looking slightly puzzled.]

Sean: (thinking) W-what what was that? A dream? But It felt so… real.

[Sean takes out his phone and enters the name of the hospital, He finds their website. Under the ‘About’ section he scrolls to the Executive team bio. There is a photo of the woman he saw in the vision followed by a small blurb]

“Miranda A. Connolly is the President and Chief Director of Mt. Cedar General Hospital. She was appointed back in 2016 as Associate Director and has since made ground-breaking changes to the field of medicine and medical care. Under her leadership, this hospital was able to expand greatly, hiring new diverse staff members and vastly improving quality of care for all its patients.”

Sean: (thinking) Holy shit… it’s real. Does that mean I…?

Daniel: Hey Sean! What you looking at?

Sean: Dude! Don’t sneak up on me like that!

Daniel: I wasn’t sneaking. I was practicing my stealth!

Sean: Yeah sure.

Daniel: Are you looking at the new Playbox Pro? My birthday is right around the corner you know.

Sean: Birthday? It’s still January!

Daniel: Never too early to start preparing.

Sean: (rolling eyes) Yeah cuz everything’s always about you.

Daniel: Oooh I bet you were watching those dirty videos again. I’m tellin’ grandpa!

Sean: Hey hands off my phone you little-

[Daniel tries to grab Sean’s phone. Sean wrests his hand away. There is another a jolt]

[Daniel stands in front of the vending machine, staring at the jumbo chock-o-crisp. He looks around to check that the coast is clear. Then he waves his hand causing the chock-o-crisp to fall off the rack and into the dispenser slot.He gleefully retrieves it and devours the candy bar in a matter of seconds]

Sean: Dude, I told you not to eat any more chock-o-crisps! Do you want another trip to the dentist?

Daniel: What are you talking about? I haven’t had one in weeks!

Sean: Yeah sure. So you didn’t pig out at the vending machine before coming in here?

Daniel: How did you-

Sean: Maybe I have magic powers or maybe… you’ve still got crumbs on your collar.

Daniel: Aw, damn it. Promise you won’t tell grandpa.

Sean: Oh so you can tell on me but I can’t tell on you?

Daniel: (smugly) Exactly.

Sean: C’mere ya little shit!

Daniel: Sean stop! Ha that tickles. Quit it!

(After their little bout, Daniel curls up next to Sean, resting his head on Sean’s lap. Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair absentmindedly)

Sean: You ever wish you were… you know “normal” again?

Daniel: You mean not have my powers? Nah. They’re a part of me now. Besides, being normal is overrated.

Sean: (chuckles) I guess it is. But do you ever get that feeling like you thought you wanted something for a really long time but when you finally get it, it nothing like you thought it’d be?

Daniel: Uhhh… you mean like how I begged grandma to get me a PlayBox Live Subscription, but then the exclusives turned out to be shit? And now I have to act like I love it?

Sean: Yeah something like that.

Daniel: (yawns) Meh I’ll just ask for a gaming PC for my birthday.

Sean: Dude you’re like the greediest ten year-old I know.

Daniel: How many ten year-olds do you know?

Sean: Uh… just you and Chris.

Daniel: So, you want me to be more like Chris?

Sean: Wouldn’t hurt.

Daniel: (imitating Chris) “Only the purest of hearts may wield the power of Captain Spirit!”

Sean: Guess that rules you out.

Daniel: (playfully) Shut up.

DAY THREE

Doctor: Okay Mr.Diaz. I want you to follow the light. Look to your right, up and to the right. Good, good, excellent pupil response.  Now look at the chart, cover your right eye and read this line.

Sean: Uh… A, O, E, P… T? Sorry I can’t really make out the last one.

Doctor: That’s okay, it takes time.

Doctor: Now this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but I recommend that you wear a patch over your right eye. It’ll be temporary of course, just until you learn to see with your left eye again.

Sean: (laughs dryly) And here I thought my seafaring days were behind me.

Doctor: You know… pirate actually wore patches so their eyes could easily adjust to the darkness and see below deck- Sorry my son’s going through a pirate phase.

Sean: I know the feeling. My little brother’s been through every phase imaginable.

Doctor: Kids, you gotta treasure every moment. Because before you know it, they’ll be all grown up, ready to go off on their own. Look at me, rambling on. Anyway, I signed your discharged papers. They’ll schedule you for some outpatient care in the coming months.You’re almost ready to go. 

Sean: Sounds good.

Doctor: And you’re sure you don’t want to get do something about that nasty scar? A good-looking kid like you, it would be a shame to-

Sean: That’s okay, I think I’ll keep it… as a reminder.

Doctor: Alright but if you ever change your mind, I could refer you to a great plastic surgeon.

Sean: Thanks Doc, for everything.

Doctor: The pleasure’s all mine, Mr.Diaz. The groundwork we laid here could help hundreds of other patients in the future. We are making history. Your nurse should be along in a moment to help you get discharged.

[Sean sits in quiet contemplation. Reflecting on his dreams and new “vision”]

Sean (thinking): Be careful what you wish for... 

Joey: Looks like everything’s good to go. Remember to use your eye-drops-

Sean: Twice a day. Yeah Joey, I know.

Joey: Guess it’s goodbye again. Don’t be a stranger this time okay?

Sean: I won’t.

Joey: Here’s my number. Call me if ever need professional advice or just want to shoot the shit.

Sean: Thanks Joey. Let me know how everything goes with the baby.

Joey: Oh don’t you worry about that. Soon I’ll be blowing up your phone with pictures.

Sean: Haha can’t wait.

Joey: Now hospital policy says I gotta wheel your ass outta here. For liability reasons.

Sean: At least it’ll be a smoother exit than last time.

Joey: (laughs) Get in the chair smart-ass.

Beaver Creek, One Week Later

Sean: Okay, you ready?

Daniel: (takes deep breath) Alright. Show it to me.

Sean: So… how does it look?

Daniel: Looks… normal.

Sean: You almost sound disappointed. Were you expecting a bionic eye or something?

Daniel: No. I just… it looks good. I like the scar; makes you look extra tough.

Sean: You think so?

Daniel: Yeah… totally badass!

Sean: Thanks, enano.

Daniel: You need a new codename, like Scarred Wolf or Deadshot Diaz!

Sean: Let’s leave the nicknames up to Chris.

Daniel: Hey! I make up awesome names too!

Sean: Whatever you say,“Superwolf”

[litttle-annie-adderall]

A Halloween Special (WinterSpider AU)

Summary: It's Halloween at the Avengers Tower, and the team plans a very special group costume. Peter is thrilled and can't wait for the event. Bucky, however, is decidedly not participating in the costume. Peter comes up with a plan to get his boyfriend to dress up in a costume and go to Tony's Halloween party.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 5.0k

Warnings: None really...lots of fluff... an excessive amount of smirking and blushing...

A/N: Here’s my self-indulgent Peter x Bucky Halloween fanfiction in July lol. It’s been up on my AO3 (@lynnnieee) for about a week now but I thought I might post it here as well! Thanks for reading!!!

Also, here’s a gif that has nothing to do with the story just brighten your day😊😊

Peter is more excited about this year's Halloween than he has been about any other in years. Usually, Ned came over, Aunt May ordered pizza, and they'd binge Halloween horror movie classics all night until they finally crashed on the couch in the early hours of the morning. Even last year, when Peter turned 18 and moved into the Avenger's tower, everyone decided not to do anything special. Most of them were just arriving home from a mission cleaning up some of the remnants of Thanos' visit to Earth and were too exhausted to carry out any sort of plans. But this year, things have been calm for more than a month now, the longest period of time in a while, and Steve had managed to convince Tony to throw a party in the tower on one of the multipurpose floors.

And for Peter, this Halloween only kept getting better and better. All of the Avengers planning on attending the party made a deal to dress up in costumes of each other. When Natasha had jokingly teased Sam with the idea, Peter was instantly excited. Though some were more reluctant than others, Peter and Clint managed to get everyone on board. Well, almost everyone, that is.

Bucky had sat back on the couch, drinking coffee from one of Tony's oversized mugs, watching his boyfriend and Clint try to rally the team together into a group costume. He had a smug look plastered on his face the entire time until Peter turned to him and Bucky realized he was expected to "join in on the fun" as well.

"No."

Peter frowned, "But Buck,-"

"No."

"It'll be fun-"

"No."

"Maybe you'll get somebody with a really cool suit, like Thor-"

Sam chuckled, "Or maybe you'll get an outfit like Nat's."

Peter bit his lip, imagining Bucky in a skin-tight, all-leather pantsuit, "Even better," His eyes gleamed bashfully.

Bucky smirked when Tony cringed from his spot behind Peter and muttered, "Eww."

Peter walked over to Bucky and plopped down in his lap, wrapping his arms around the man's neck. Bucky set his mug down on the side table so he could rest his metal hand on the small of Peter's back as Peter gave him the puppy dog eyes he knows Bucky has a hard time resisting. "Please, for me?"

Bucky smiled and brought his other hand to cup Peter's cheek, a small blush forming on the boy's cheeks. Bucky leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Peter's lips, but then pulled away and still said: "Not a chance."

Peter pouted, "You're so mean to me," Causing a small laugh from the group.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arms around Peter's waist. "Come find me after the party, and I promise I'll buy all the Halloween candy I can find so that we still have our own after-party of watching horror movies all night."

Peter's cheeks turned even redder, knowing that Bucky's idea of an after-party will definitely include more than just candy and movies. He dramatically sighs but can't help the grin on his face, "Okay, fine."

"Good." Peter turns back around to face the group, who was in the midst of discussing the best way to go about deciding who gets to be who, when Bucky placed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. Peter doesn't think he could ever get sick of this, even when Bucky is being stubborn.

But Peter thinks that Bucky must've forgotten one thing, he can be equally as stubborn as the solider when he wants to be. So by the next morning, Peter had come up with a plan he believes to be pretty foolproof. The rest of the gang decided to draw names from a hat to determine who'll they'll come dressed as, but Peter requested his name be taken out of the drawing because, as he told Tony and Steve, he has a fantastic idea that he guarantees will get Bucky to cave on Halloween. He tells them not to mention anything to Bucky and refuses to disclose the details of his plan, saying it will just have to be a surprise.

Steve had smirked at him, telling Peter that he's hasn't seen Bucky in a Halloween costume since they were six years old, so if Peter needs anything at all, just let him know and he'll be happy to be of any assistance. Peter didn't realize Captain America could be so mischievous, but he liked it.

So today, on Halloween, Peter is fully ready to enact his plan, hopefully causing Bucky to laugh and come to the Avengers' party in a costume. The secret costume he picked out for Bucky is tucked away in the corner of the closet in Peter's room where he knows Bucky won't find it. He managed to put both of their outfits together for a pretty cheap price as they already had most of what he needed. Although Peter knows Mr. Stark has told him dozens of times to just ask if he needs money for anything, especially now that he's living in the tower, he always declines. It doesn't feel right to mooch money off of his mentor when he's already living in the luxurious Manhattan tower free of charge.

Peter's just about to pull his own costume for the night out of the closet when Bucky pokes his head in, knocking twice on the door. Peter looks up at him with a bright smile as Bucky walks in. "You getting ready for the party?" The man asks, shutting the door behind him.

"Mhm," Peter hums, pulling the bag out of the closet but leaving handles tied shut, "But you can't see my costume yet."

"And why's that, doll?" Bucky teases, sitting down on Peter's bed.

Peter sits down beside him, tossing his legs over Bucky's lap, "Because it's a surprise, so you have to wait just like everyone else." He responds playfully, knowing Bucky's already aware of that because he's asked Peter only about a thousand times over the past few weeks.

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head, "I still couldn't believe it when Stevie told me you decided not to take part in the name drawing when the whole thing was your crazy idea."

Peter smiles, "Hey, it was Clint's idea too!" Bucky laughs again, tucking his hand under the collar of Peter's shirt on the back of his boy's neck, running his fingers through the ends of his curly, brown hair. Peter leans his head back against the cool metal on his neck, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he makes a small purring sound that always brings a soft smile to Bucky's face. "And anyway, I know you're going to like my new costume a lot better." Peter opens his eyes, a troublesome glint reflecting in them, "But I made sure to stay in line with the theme!"

Bucky raises an eyebrow lightheartedly, "And you're really not gonna tell me?"

"Nope," Peter shuffles off of his bed and gently pulls Bucky up at the same time, "And you gotta go so I can change cause the party starts in less than half an hour."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Bucky raises his hands in mock surrender with a smirk playing on his lips.

"You sure you don't want to come with us?" Peter asks yet again.

Bucky smiles, then leans over and pecks Peter on the forehead, "I'll see you out there, doll." Peter flushes at the soft touch and resists the urge to pull Bucky back and keep him here a little bit longer. Peter shoots the man one last grin before shutting the door behind him.

Although he is absolutely not going to partake in the costume swap, Bucky is a little excited to see everyone dressed up as each other. He wanders into the living room, planning on watching TV while waiting for everyone to meet up in their costumes, but mostly so he can laugh at whoever has to dress up in Nat's combat suit.

Not even five minutes after sitting down, he sees Sam coming walking into the common room from the small hall leading to the few bedrooms on this floor. "Even in a random draw, I'm still a damn bird," Sam says, throwing a bow over his shoulder on top of the arrow quiver.

Bucky snorts, eyeing Sam in Clint's Hawkeye uniform. He's dressed in all black, except for the underneath his vest, where a dark blue shirt with one short sleeve and one long sleeve sits with its collar popped. A quiver of arrows is hooked across the middle of his chest with a leather strap lacing over the bulletproof vest. But the bow and arrows aren't the only weapons Sam wears, though, as a gun is holstered on his left thigh and a knife is attached to his right boot. Sam completed the outfit with a black cuff on his right wrist, black combat boots, and a wristbow fastened to his left wrist.

Before Bucky can even say anything, another voice carries in from the hallway, "Woah, you look awesome!" Clint rushes into the room, "Right down to the details," He points to the knife on Sam's boot, "Great job, man! Now we'll just have to see if you can use that thing as well as I can." He nods to the wristbow.

Sam snickers, "I can't wait to see Steve's face when he gets a look at you." Bucky honestly could not agree more. Clint arrived in a full spandex Captain America suit, the colors notably much brighter and costume-like than Steve's battle suit. Clint obviously put muscle padding under the sleeves on his biceps and one of Steve's cowls adorns his head, as well as a tall pair of black combat boots, but the standout of the outfit is undoubtedly the blazing shield on his arm.

"Is that actually Steve's shield?" Bucky asks, looking at the reflective metal shield resting on Clint's right arm.

"You bet it is," Clint smirks, "I'm not one to half-ass it on Halloween!"

Bucky laughs harder as Sam raises an eyebrow, "Does he know you have that?"

Clint's smirk turns sheepish, "I may have asked Tony to get it for me as a favor." Sam rolls his eyes but chuckles nonetheless.

"Somebody say my name?" Tony opens the door from the main hallway, marching into the room in what Bucky automatically knows will take the cake for the most extra costume of the bunch.

Clint's eyes go wide, "Oh. My. God." Tony recreated The Falcon suit down to a T, even some slight smudges of dark dust and dirt litter knees and boots to resemble wear. Tony put on a maroon and gray military-grade suit identical to Sam's, a weapons' belts with a holster on one side and an array of knives on the other, slick metal boots with knee pads clicked onto the shoe rims, and automated gloves with red accents and tech lining the cuffs to control the wings. His eyes are covered by sleek goggles with red lenses and a gray strap.

Sam approaches Tony slowly, his eyes continuously flicking over the suit as if looking for any sign of flaw, "Do the wings work?" He eyes the red and gray harness resting over Tony's shoulders.

"Please, what do you think?" Tony smirks, pressing a button on one of the wrist cuffs. In a split second, maroon and silver wings shoot out from the pack on Tony's back, which begins emitting three soft, red lights. "I know your wingspan can go up to 50 feet at full stretch, but I figured a twelve-foot wingspan was good enough for a party."

"This is incredible, man," Sam slowly shakes his head, "How long did it take you?"

Tony shrugs, "Not long, Peter helped when I had to be in meetings."

"As much as I hate to say it, I'm impressed," Bucky says to Tony, although he usually hates to stroke the man's ego.

Tony's self-satisfied expression only grows, "Thanks, I know," He stares at Bucky's plain black henley and jeans, "Still not coming to the party?"

"Well, I can't now, how am I supposed to beat that?" Bucky says as if he had any plans to go in the first place, gesturing to Tony's extremely high tech costume.

Tony rolls his eyes but smiles, "Oh, I ran into someone pacing in the hall that I think definitely has this and everyone else beat." He turns his head to the door, "C'mon Capsicle, I think it's your turn to come in now!"

Bucky raises an eyebrow when Steve calls out from behind the hall doors, "No, thanks, I'm good out here!"

"Don't be shy, Steve, you look fantastic!" Tony yells back, his amused grin never slipping.

Steve groans loudly enough to be heard in the common room, but he pushes the door open anyway. "You know, I knew there was a chance of this, but I guess I thought my one out of six odds were good enough," He mutters, and, well... Bucky can't help the chortle that immediately leaves his mouth.

Clint doubles over, laughing so hard Bucky thinks he might cry, "This is the best thing I've ever seen in my whole entire life!" Steve growls slightly, but his face showers with embarrassment.

Sam pats Steve on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you look great, man!" He says, though clearly holding back cackles of his own.

Steve's face goes even redder, if that's possible, as he stands in front of half of his team in a one-piece, tightfitting, black leather pantsuit. The outfit is fitted with two belts, one around his waist for various weapons, and the other around his middle with a small red hourglass buckle pulling the suit even snugger than it already was. The top is unzipped down past his pecs, only inches above the hourglass. Black, fingerless gloves and tall combat boots (Bucky never noticed until now how many of them wear those) put the finishing touches on his costume.

Bucky tries to control his laughter, "How did you- Where did you-... Stevie?"

"Tony helped me out a little bit," Steve replies, still avoiding eye contact with everything but the floor.

"Did you end up figuring out who everyone drew?" Sam knowingly asks Tony.

Tony shrugs, "What can I say, there was a high demand and I'm the only supplier you all know, apparently. And not quite everyone, Nat and Thor both kept theirs very close to their chests, though I know they each have to one of the only two remaining on my list of unknowns." Tony suddenly rolls his eyes, "And don't even get me started on Peter. Since he's come up with his costume idea he won't spare a single detail except that it's still 'on our theme'. It's incredibly irritating." Bucky only smirks to himself, all the more intrigued at what or who his boy is going to show up dressed as.

"Yeah, I'm sure-" Steve starts to say, but stops when he gets a good look at Clint, "Wait, is that my shield?"

Clint puts the shield behind his back sheepishly, "Uh... no."

Steve gives Tony a stern look that is met with a one-shoulder raise from the inventor, "I owed him a small favor, now we're even."

Steve sighs and shakes his head, trying to keep back his grin, "I expect it to be returned without a scratch, Barton."

"Aye, aye, captain," Clint salutes him. Heels clicking echo out of the main hallway into the room and Clint's smirk widens, "And here she comes, ladies and gentleman."

"Well, hello boys," Natasha dryly smiles as she enters the room dressed completely in metallic red and gold.

"Natasha!" Tony blanches, "What have you done to my glorious armor! While you look undeniably stunning, that does not do my infamous technology any justice!"

Steve and Bucky roll their eyes dismissively at Tony's over-eccentric outburst, while Natasha's lip twitches in a way suggesting that this was the exact reaction she was aiming for. Her rendition of the Iron Man suit was powerfully feminine and she somehow manages to exude the same intimidation she always does while wearing a one-piece, bright, metallic, vinyl outfit. Her costume includes red knee-high, high-heel boots with golden tights pulled on underneath and matching red, metallic shorts layered on top of those. The shiny red top matching the boots has a high-neck collar and long sleeves, but with a slit over her chest emphasizing the shoulder pads to provide some of the bulk of Tony's armor. She pulled on gold, fingerless gloves and let her ginger hair fall down over her shoulders, a gold headband tied around her forehead.

"Your suit was a little bulky for me," Natasha smiles innocently, "I had to improvise."

"You look fantastic, Nat," Clint cheers from the kitchen as he grabs a bag of chips from the basket on the counter.

Natasha cracks and her smile turns genuine toward her best friend before she looks over the rest of the team and her lips titter, "Well, Steve, I think you pull off my suit even better than I do." Steve's cheeks enflame once more, inciting another laugh out of Bucky.

The door flings open again beside the group. Thor marches into the room completely covered in green body paint. "It looks as though everyone has outdone themselves tonight!"

"That's got to be some kind of fate that the most overly bulked out person here gets to be the Hulk, right?" Sam points out. Thor's costume is relatively simple and straight to the point. Aside from a pair of purple shorts with ripped bottoms, he painted his entire body in shamrock green paint.

"I hope you used actual body paint and not some kind of crap from an art store, Point Break." Tony grimaces.

Thor beams at Natasha, "Ah, yes, I had some help picking out the right kind of thing from tonight's Woman of Iron."

"Yeah, well, didn't want you turning green for a week."

"Yeah cause that wouldn't have been epic." Clint scoffs and mutters sarcastically, earning himself a glare from Natasha. She puts her hands on her hips and he slouches down in his seat, finishing off the bag of chips in his hand to keep his mouth closed.

"Am I the last to get here?" Everyone turns to see Bruce dressed in a replica of Thor's Asgardian armor with a long red cape flowing down his back and a foam Mjolnir in his left hand.

"Bruce!" Thor quickly stalks over to the scientist.

"Nope, we're still waiting on the kid too," Tony cuts in.

"This is sensational! We have switched roles!" Thor pats Bruce's shoulder a few times while asking, "How did you get my clothing so realistic looking?"

"Oh, um," Bruce nods his head towards Tony, "I had some help."

Sam shakes his head as Tony gives a shit-eating grin, "Like I said, supply and demand, folks, the making of a billionaire."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, "Did I miss something?"

"Of Tony's egotistical rambling?" Bucky snarks, "Consider yourself lucky."

Bruce ignores him, instead opting to ask Tony, "Did you end up getting anything out of Peter about his costume fro the night?"

Tony playfully pouts, "No, kid's keeping his lips sealed tight on this one."

Bruce chuckles and Steve smiles, "I guess you're due to find out any minute now then."

Speaking of Peter, Bucky glances back at the hallway leading to his bedroom door, looking for any sign of the boy. "Hey kid, you almost ready?" Tony calls out, "Heavy metal over here is getting anxious for your arrival." Bucky rolls his eyes to himself at the nickname, but tries to school his face, not wanting to show the slight truth to the inventor's statement.

Peter hollers back, "Yeah, just a second, Mr. Stark!" The door slams and then a thud is heard from Peter's direction along with a shout of, "I'm okay!" Bucky can't force down the smile that creeps onto his face as he catches a glimpse of Peter running down the hall towards the team. When Peter comes into his full view, Bucky freezes, taking in exactly what it is he's looking at.

Peter stands in front of him in an all too familiar outfit. The navy bulletproof vest, the dark long-sleeve shirt hiding underneath it, the brown pants with various sized pockets on the sides, the belt of empty knife holders around the boy's waist, the empty gun holster strapped to his thigh, the black lace-up boots, leather gloves, and not to mention the black mask currently unclasped and hanging off his boy's left ear. The shirt gives Peter sweater paws and the pants are so baggy around his legs that Bucky knows he must have pulled them from Bucky's closet. Heat rolls under Bucky's skin all through his body as he stares at Peter in front of him dressed like a smaller, cuter, and less-violent Winter Soldier.

Peter bites his lip, a soft flush rising onto his cheeks. Most of the team is smiling at him, while Tony's draw is dropped open a bit and Bucky just stares at him. "I couldn't quite solve how to do the metal arm justice but I figured this would be good enough," Peter gestures to the small red star patch sewn on into the left shirt sleeve.

Tony loses his stunned expression and lets out a loud guffaw, "I don't know why I'm surprised, seriously. I had a lot of ideas of what you might come dressed as, including the horrific possibility of a sexy Spider-Man, but admittedly this was not one of them." Peter's a little happy to have been able to shock Tony, honestly.

"Well, I think you did an excellent job, Peter," Steve says from across the room, looking knowingly between Bucky and the spiderling.

"Thank you," Peter cracks a small smile when he looks at Steve's costume and tries to hold his giggles in, "Wow, that's... quite the outfit, Captain."

Steve's face reddens into a blush matching Peter's. "It's already eight o'clock, I guess we should head on down to the party," Steve says to the group.

"Probably a good idea," Natasha shoots Peter a sly smile. She nudges Tony towards and pushes him towards the door when he tries to stay to see what's going to happen considering Bucky is still frozen in his spot.

"Just because you're me for the night doesn't mean you get to be the boss now," Tony mutters as the team exits the common room, Clint sending Bucky a suggestive look on his way out, but the soldier barely even registers it.

As the door slams closed, Peter looks back at Bucky with a shy smile. He anxiously begins to the wind his fingers through the dog tags around his neck - the only thing Peter was wearing that was not a part of his costume. Bucky had gifted him the tags for their one year anniversary, and he hasn't taken them off since. The sound of the metal clinking together snaps Bucky out of his Peter-daze and he instantly makes his way toward his boy.

Once he's mere inches away from Peter, he allows his eyes drag up and down the boy's body again, struggling to hold back his urge to drag Peter back to his bedroom as he ogles him. Bucky definitely has a thing for Peter in his clothes, and he knows Peter knows it too if Bucky's constant stream of missing shirts and jackets is any indication, but he never thought he would be this enticed at the sight of Peter in his combat uniform.

"So, what do ya think?" Peter says quietly, peering up at Bucky through his eyelashes with a kittenish smile.

Bucky shakes his head, unable to push back pleased smirk any longer, "I think I know exactly what you're doing." His hands fall to Peter's upper arms, moving slowly up and down.

"And what am I doing?" Peter steps even closer, their shoes bumping together, as he leans up on his toes to nudge his face closer to Bucky's, pressing a soft kiss on the man's jawbone.

"Peter," Bucky's voice drops warningly, only sparking more excitement in Peter. "I'm not going to the party." Bucky's hands trail down Peter's forearms to the tips of his fingers and rest on his hips.

Peter cuts him off with another kiss, this one beneath Bucky's chin, "Who said anything about the party? I'm just showing you my costume before I leave," A kiss below his ear, "I spent a while putting it together," Another low on Bucky's neck, "and I wanted you to be able to get a glimpse of it before I show it off to everyone else at the party." A kiss gently on his collarbone.

The sensical part of Bucky knows Peter is toying with him, but apparently his body didn't get the memo as he clenches his teeth, struggling to resist giving in, "I think everyone's really gonna like it," Peter stares at him with his big, innocent doe eyes, whispering, "don't you like me like this?"

A growl escapes Bucky's throat and he presses his thumbs into Peter's hipbone, but as he tries to move the final inch to press his lips to Peter's, the boy moves his head away. "Sorry," Peter grins coyly, "I should be getting to that party now. Don't want to be late."

He tries to step away, but Bucky's grip tightens on his hips, just above the empty weapons holster. "You really are a little menace, aren't you?" Bucky puts a hand under Peter's jaw, his fingers trailing over the boy's cheek.

"You really gonna make me go to the party alone?" Peter whimpers gently as Bucky moves his leg in between Peter's thighs.

Bucky huffs a sigh, and places a kiss on the top of Peter's head, "I can't believe I'm saying this..."

"But...?" Peter beams at him.

"We're going to leave early," Bucky tries to sound serious, but the ecstatic look taking over Peter's expression overpowers him.

"Deal!" Peter jumps up to press his lips to Bucky's before he whispers a soft, "Thank you."

Bucky just nods in defeat, "Alright, let's go."

Peter frowns, grabbing onto Bucky's hand before he can walk away, "You can't go to the party without a costume, Bucky."

"Afraid I don't have a costume, doll." Peter grins mischievously and Bucky stops, "You got me a costume, didn't you?"

Peter laughs and nods, pulling the man towards his room. "It's actually what triggered my costume idea too! I promise it's simple!"

Bucky chuckles as he watches Peter pull a plastic bag out of his closet, "I considered getting a suit fit for you, but no matter how perfect I know you would look, I also knew you never, ever wear it in front of other people, so I tried to do something basic instead."

Bucky raises an eyebrow but his silent question is immediately answered when Peter pulls out a hanger holding a long sleeve blue Henley shirt underneath a sleeveless, red zip-up hoodie with a black spider decal in the middle. "You can just wear blue jeans with it and your army boots, the red ones, to match." Peter hurries to say, "Oh, and one more thing," He leans over to pulls the last object out of the bag and hands it Bucky. "I don't use that one much anymore. It's the one from the first Spider-Man suit Mr. Stark made for me."

Bucky glances from the mask in his hand to Peter's hopeful face in front of him. For some reason, this party obviously means a lot to Peter, so he sighs, resigning himself to endless teasing from Steve and Sam for the next hundred years, "Only because I love you so damn much."

Peter bites his lip, "Really? You'll wear it?"

Bucky smiles teasingly, "What? Me giving in wasn't a part of your master plan? What tricks were you planning on using next?" Bucky wraps his arm around Peter's waist, laying their foreheads on each other, "Cause I'll bet I'd be open to more persuasion."

Peter flushes beet red but still grins softly at Bucky, "Of course it was part of my plan, but I wasn't- I just wasn't actually sure that you would do it in the end. I know Halloween isn't your thing and although I really, really wanted you to go I'd never make you do something you definitely did not want to do in the end, because you had to do that for too long and I love you too, and-" Bucky cuts off Peter's flustered rambles with a small kiss to the boy's lips.

Peter is still the color of tomato when Bucky pulls away, "There isn't anything in this world that I wouldn't do for you, doll." He smirks at Peter's outfit once more, "Especially when you're all dressed up for me."

"Bucky," Peter whines, dropping his head into his soldier's chest. Bucky laughs and Peter feels the rumbling on his temple.

"C'mon, let's get me all ready for the party." Bucky pulls back, "Sooner we go the sooner we can come back here, eat a shit ton of candy, and maybe," Bucky nods toward the mask, "we can put some of this webbing to good use." Peter bites back a moan and slowly hands Bucky the costume, trying not to fumble under the lustful gaze from Bucky that he's grown so in love with.

>>><<<

"Steve!" Sam says, pointing to the elevator that just let off.

Steves glances over only to find Bucky entering the room, all dressed up in a makeshift Spider-Man costume, with Peter at his side pulling him over towards Tony and Pepper. Steve chuckles and turns to Natasha, "Bucky in a costume at a Halloween party, I can't believe the kid actually managed to do it."

"I'm not surprised," Her lip quirks up, "He always goes soft when it comes to Peter."

Steve clinks his glass against Sam's and Natasha's in agreement as he watches Bucky stare at Peter's rambling with fond, loving eyes.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 57)

Agent Wilson

This one’s a pretty long one, I hope it makes up for the week I missed. Just a warning for some mild sexual references, and there’s a little angst too. I hope you enjoy! Shit’s about to kick off lemme tell you :P

I really hope the formatting of this isn’t fucked up somehow. I’m having some computer problems and I don't have chrome installed right now so I’m using Microsoft edge, and it seems a little different when pasting this stuff in. Idk. Hopefully it’s fine. 

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Our campsite was thankfully untouched after our short trip away, though there wasn't really much worth stealing anyway, besides an old tent. When we arrived back, Arthur immediately started cooking up some of the wolf meat for us, some generous slabs that he seasoned with oregano for a little more flavour. It smelled delicious, I hadn't noticed how hungry I'd become, and I was salivating long before it was ready to eat.

"You feeling a little better now that you've had a night away?" He asked me.

"My head feels clearer,” I nodded, "feel like I can breathe again. I'm not really looking forward to going back but I know we have to.”

"We'll be fine. It'll all have been forgotten about, just like when I kicked his teeth in."

"Do you think I should apologise, clear the air?" I asked. Arthur chuckled, then realised I was seriously asking.

"If it'd make you feel better, then– but that tells him that you were in the wrong, and he'll go 'round thinking that he can just get away with doing what he wants. Including touching you, which I ain't having. If you hadn't throttled him, I would've, and I certainly wouldn't've apologised," he said, spearing some cooked meat on a fork and handing it to me. I thanked him and blew on it to cool it.

"You're right. He shouldn't've touched me," I said.

"I'd say just steer clear. Don't let him pull you in, just ignore anything he says. He ain't worth it," he advised, and I let his words sink in. He was right.

"How long do you think we could get away with staying out here?" I asked. He glanced up at me from the fresh lump of meat he was cooking over the fire. He thought for a while.

"I think," he began slowly, then sighed, a guilty look appearing on his face, "I gotta see Dutch today. I promised Charles I'd go and speak to Rains Fall, but then I gotta meet a few people from Wapiti and Dutch. He's got something planned with Eagle Flies, wants me to be there."

"What's Dutch wanna do with him?" I questioned, then took a bite of meat.

"I… I don't know. It don't feel right; I got a feeling he's planning on using him and the situation his people're in as some kind of opportunity," he sighed. I frowned deeply. "It's an ugly business, I'm hoping I can help keep things from getting too out of hand."

"Out of hand, how?"

"Like if Eagle Flies and the others fight back hard enough, it might only land them in more trouble. Rains Fall can see that, but his son's a little hard to convince, apparently."

I nodded in recognition. "Charles told me a little of this while you were away, he was helping them back then. I feel like I should do something–"

"No. Not now Dutch has his hands on the situation, I don't want you near it. 'Sides, your leg ain't healed yet. I bet Susan'll have some words for both of us when we get back as it is," he was quick to respond. I exhaled and looked away. "But anyway, all this means I gotta head off soon."

My heart thumped. "What if I wanted to stay?"

Arthur's mouth opened but nothing came out for a few long moments. "Well, if you wanted to, I couldn't stop you."

I looked down and considered it as an option for a while, chewing and swallowing some more food before continuing. "We could ride back, then I'll pick up a few extra things from camp and come back here while you go and do what you've gotta do. Then I guess, if you wanna come here again when you're done, you can," I suggested. "But that's up to you. I just don't feel ready to go back yet."

"You'll be okay out here alone, with your injury? With the wolves?” He asked, not doubtful, but genuinely asking.

"I think so. I'll have my rifle, and I'll keep my wits about me," I told him, though my confidence did waver a bit at the mention of wolves, "maybe I'll even go and drop in on Mrs. Balfour tomorrow."

"Yeah?" He smiled a little.

"You think that'd be okay? Or should I– maybe she don't want to see me. You're the one who helped her, after all," I murmured, finishing off my food.

"I think she'd appreciate it," he nodded his head, biting into his own cooked meat and speaking only after he'd swallowed, "she ain't had a good time of it. She could use some kindness."

"I'm a little worried about her, not being able to hunt."

"We'll do something about that," he reassured me.

"You're a sweet man, Arthur. Ain't many men who'd help a woman like that, 'least not without wanting something in return," I said, and he shrugged dismissively. "I'm serious. You're a gem. You helped me get out safely that night in Blackwater. You helped Penelope get away with her love. And you're helping Charlotte. And Mrs. Downes–"

"Mrs. Downes wouldn't need help if it weren't for me, and Strauss' scams," he cut me off. I exhaled quietly.

"Don't, Arthur. You're always denying the good things people say about you," I shook my head. He kept his eyes on mine for a while, his mouth open a little, but he never spoke. "You're a gem," I repeated.

He didn't respond, but he exhaled something close to a laugh and a bashful smile appeared on his face. He continued eating his breakfast, finishing off the chunk of meat speared by his knife. When he was done he reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal, crossing his legs and flicking through the pages until he came upon a blank one. I watched him idly as he started jotting things down inside. Curiosity got the better of me.

"What're you writing about?" I asked him. He cleared his throat and made me wait a while before answering.

"About last night," he said. I thought back, mind filtering through our evening until it settled on what we'd done in his tent. I imagined myself pressed up against his back, my hand inside his union suit, pressing kisses to his neck and his shoulder as he hummed out quiet moans, the slick sound of my hand on him just barely audible. My face flushed warm.

"About what I…" I trailed off. His face was blank for a moment, then he laughed at the realisation.

"No, not that," he said. "Just about what happened with Micah, how we came out here. How nice it was to be alone again, you know, I always miss this when we're back at camp," he elaborated, looking up at me.

"Yeah me too," I nodded.

"I will come back here after I've done what I've gotta do. We'll spend another night here together, at least."

"That makes me happy," I beamed, shuffling close to him and hugging his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder. Arthur went back to writing, I didn't read what he put but I was touched that he didn't mind that I was so close while he wrote. But I did glance down as he started flicking back through the book; I just wanted to see more of his lovely drawings. One page caught my eye; it was full of drawings of birds, but none like I'd seen in person before, only in artwork. They looked exotic. I stopped him on that page, and enquired about them.

"These were in Guarma. When I came back, I wrote down everything I remembered. Drew some things too," he explained. "The whole island was full of parrots. Brightest coloured feathers I ever saw, these drawings don't do 'em justice."

"Well, I think they're beautiful, even without the colour," I told him, leaning closer to inspect his sketches. A whole spread of them, some close ups of their heads, others of them taking flight, they were all lovely. I was glad to see that something nice had come out of the whole ordeal. "You haven't spoken much about Guarma," I said gingerly.

Arthur nodded, and he was still for a moment.

"It weren't easy talking about it when I first got back," he admitted. I was careful with how I phrased my next question, not wanting to pressure him.

"If you ever wanted to talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Just felt like too much to go into. None of it was nice, I don't want you getting upset about it," he revealed. My lips parted silently, and it took me some time to know what to say.

"I know you're alive and you're okay. So, I couldn't get too upset now," I said.

"I don't remember much from the first day or two," he said, "but I think they're easier to talk about."

"Yeah?" I shifted, sitting upright so I could look at him.

"The boat went down in the night. We were all sleeping and suddenly we had to get up, the sea was so choppy; we was getting thrown around like ragdolls. Anyway, we got split up. Dutch and the others got out on a boat, but I… didn't," he began. I frowned deeply at the revelation but let him carry on. "That's when things get hazy. I know I went into the water but I don't know nothing about how I lived long enough to wash up on that island,

"Nor do I remember much about what I did when I got there. Think I just walked, looking for people. Eventually I saw smoke and I followed it; that's how I regrouped with the others. But we got captured soon after that. Javier got shot, we went off with some feller, weren't from Guarma. Hercule, his name was. And that's– that's when–"

Arthur stopped and he was frowning. I reached over and squeezed his knee.

"Well, I said I'd help with some situation the workers on the island was in. Reckon I got shot by a tranquilizer dart, woke up to getting the shit smacked out of me by some angry feller," he shook his head. "Anyway, we all ended up helping Hercule with some things, he was getting us a boat off the island."

"What sort of things?"

Arthur shook his head and exhaled audibly, "fighting against Fussar, the man who was in charge. He was at the party at the mayor's house, believe it or not. Maybe you saw him, he was the one with all the medals and whatnot," he gestured to his chest and I thought back. I had vague recollections of such a man, but I hadn't paid much attention at the time.

"Yeah, I think," I nodded.

"Dutch and I saved Javier from where him and his army were keeping him, then, to cut a long story short, I killed him. He knew who we was and weren't letting us off the island, so he had to go. Though my sense is the world will be a better place without him, anyway."

"And then you came back?"

"And then we came back," he nodded. He sighed heavily, then met my eyes. "That's about it, summed up. I also blew up a warship with a cannon, watched Dutch strangle an old lady to death, and saw way more of Micah's pot-belly than I ever needed to. So yeah, it weren't a nice trip, and every day I just wanted to be back home."

I couldn't even laugh at the slice of humour Arthur tried to bring in about Micah's stomach. I reached for him, squeezing his upper arm and stroking it comfortingly.

"That's a lot to go through," I whispered. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes widened slightly, mouth parted a little. He looked stunned. Sad. Like he was realising that yes, it was a lot to go through. Then he exhaled sharply and looked away.

"Well, least I got to see a tropical island. Probably never would've seen anything like it otherwise, never mind what Dutch says about us all being mango farmers," it was a poor attempt at finding a silver lining, just like my thoughts about Arthur's beautiful drawings. I didn't take away from it, though.

"Yeah, at least there's that," I leaned over and kissed his shoulder.

"Dare I say it might've been quite nice if I'd gone there on purpose, and you were there too, and there weren't no Fussar bullshit to deal with," he breathed a laugh. "Even so, ain't thinking of going back."

"I'm content with Blackwater being the most exotic and far out place I've ever visited," I chuckled, and he joined me.

"Anyway, I better get going. Shall we pack up? We'll do like you said, head back and I'll get Jet, then you can come back here with some fresh clothes and some more food. We've even got some pelts for Pearson so he can't whine too much about his helper leaving with a few cans of vegetables."

"Sure, though I feel a little bad now you put it like that," I murmured.

"Don't. I damn well paid for most of it anyway," he told me with a bitter, annoyed edge to his voice that almost made me smile because it seemed to me, if only for a second, Arthur was accepting all he did for the gang. And how sometimes, it wasn't fair.

"Is there anything I can do for you, lighten the load a little?"

"No–" he began automatically, then paused. "Actually, I got some stuff needs selling to a fence, jewellery and the like. John told me all those months ago that you was good with bartering with the trapper, maybe a clever, pretty lady like you'll get a better deal than me."

"I'll give it my best shot," I grinned.

We got moving, deconstructing our little camp and putting out the fire. We rode back to Beaver Hollow, and when we hitched Rayna up with the other horses, Arthur stopped to kiss me once before telling me where he was keeping the jewellery, and asking me to be discreet when I retrieved it. He headed straight off, telling me to be safe and promising to return to me later on at Brandywine Drop. I watched him ride off on his own horse before walking into camp.

My heart was pounding. I scanned the place, seeing people glance up from what they were doing to look at me. They didn't stare or say anything, and I quickly realised that things were just as Arthur had assured me; people had pretty much forgotten about my outburst and weren't at all bothered. But then again, Micah wasn't around, and I did wonder if he would have something to say next time we crossed paths.

I went straight to Pearson's wagon, finding the man himself sitting behind it smoking a cigarette. He seemed pretty down most days, quiet and morose but irritable when bothered. I trod carefully when I approached him.

"Morning, Mr. Pearson," I said. He lifted his head, addressing me with a mildly surprised gaze.

"Ahh, there she is. Thought you weren't coming back, the way you left yesterday," he chuckled.

"Mm, not my finest hour," I sighed leaning up against the wagon and pressing my boot against a stone on the ground, pressing it into the mud. "Being stuck at camp, doing nothing, maybe I went a little stir crazy."

"You feeling better now?" He asked. I pursed my lips and met his eyes.

"A little," I said. "I uh, I'm gonna spend another day away from camp. Arthur and I are sleeping up at Brandywine Drop."

His brows raised a little, "oh, okay. You want me to tell Dutch when he gets back–"

"No. You needn't say anything to anyone. I just thought it'd be a good idea for someone to know where we are," I shrugged. "Mind if I steal a little food?"

He sighed, but waved a hand towards the wagon.

"Thank you," I smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

I rounded the wagon and gathered a couple of things; some canned sweetcorn, biscuits, ground coffee and some strawberries for something sweet. We wouldn't need a lot of food, we still had plenty of meat left from the wolves and I knew I could forage some carrots and berries around the river as well if need be.

"By the way, I have some meat and some pelts for you," I called to Pearson. I heard him shuffle and grunt as he pushed himself to his feet and rounded the wagon to join me. "Three wolf pelts. There's some meat wrapped up in the saddlebag, on Rayna."

"Thank god," he breathed, and started heading towards the horses, "was starting to think we'd have to start eating each other."

"Just leave enough for me and Arthur," I called to him, slipping away the supplies in my satchel and then heading across the camp to our tent.

I pulled some fresh clothes from my suitcase, laying them out on the bed, then bent down to Arthur's own chest. I retrieved some clothes for him too, placed them with mine, then reached right to the bottom of his chest until I felt the drawstring bag he'd mentioned to me. I discreetly pulled it out and placed it on top of our clothes, rolling it up to create a nice little bundle that would fit into my saddlebag.

"Are you leaving?" John asked, calling out from his place at the campfire.

"Yeah," I answered simply.

"Shit, does Arthur know?" He exclaimed, getting up and coming over. I looked at him with a mild frown.

"Arthur's coming with me," I told him. He stared with his mouth hanging open, and I was so confused until I replayed the conversation in my head and realised what he thought I meant. "Oh, we're not leaving leaving, for good. Just another night."

"Oh, right," he exhaled, a hand smacking to his chest. He blew through his pursed lips and chuckled. "Had me worried for a second."

"Don't worry, if we leave we'll be sure to drag you kicking and screaming, too," I said, half joking.

"Right," he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, how'd it feel to have your hands round Micah's neck?"

"They weren't there long enough to really take notice," I sighed, tucking the bundle of clothes under my arm. "I couldn't say."

"You could try, sure would be nice to find out," he smirked. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Where is he anyway?" I asked.

John glanced around. "I don't know. Probably out there terrorising some poor innocent folk."

"How's he been? I mean, has he said much about what happened?"

"Not really. Everything kind of just went back to normal once you and Arthur left, you know how it is."

"Good," I nodded. "And Dutch?"

"Dutch," he scoffed, "he still ain't speaking to me, much. Not like I really want him to."

"I wonder who he hates more, you or me," I snorted. "Anyway, I gotta go. Have an errand to run, then I'm heading back out for another night. Just need time away, try and pull myself together."

"You okay on your own?"

"Course," I smiled, "Arthur said he'd join me later on, he's got plenty to do today."

"Well, you just take care, alright?" He patted my arm. "If anything happened to you, Morgan would be hell to live with."

I breathed a laugh and shook my head at him. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He made a surprised grunt, but returned my hug quickly, if a little awkwardly.

"John, I'm… I'm real glad I met you," I whispered.

"Yeah, me too, Miss," he replied quietly, almost shyly, patting my back before releasing me. I stepped back and looked up at him. The little smile he wore made me chuckle, it was clear he wasn't used to much friendly affection.

"I'll see you later," I told him, then ducked out from under the cover of the tent.

"Sure," he nodded, watching me go.

-

I hitched Rayna up outside the saloon in Van Horn, figuring I could go for a short drink after selling the jewellery. I dug the drawstring bag of treasure out of my saddlebag, tucking it into my satchel before feeding Rayna an apple.

"Won't be long, baby," I whispered to her, patting her neck.

I headed along the path towards the edge of Van Horn, taking a breath and becoming reacquainted with the place after such a long time. It looked even more run down than the last time I'd visited, and I almost couldn't believe that I used to like the place. It still had that weird, out of the way, different feel to it, which I guess was part of its charm. It was a real unique place.

I reached the end of the wooden boardwalk where the fence was situated, and entered. I was greeted by a thick Scottish accent.

"Hello there," he said, his tone cheery.

"Hey, mister. How you doing today?" I asked, giving him a big smile.

"Not too bad, yourself? That's a nasty limp you've got," he noted, nodding towards my leg. I might've hammed it up a bit on my way in, in a bid to appeal to his sympathetic side.

"Oh, I got burned," I told him a little breathlessly. That was genuine; I was surprised how much energy it took to move around when I was conscious of my injury. "But I'm… I'm fine."

"You sure? You need help with that bag?" He nodded towards the canvas drawstring tucked under my arm, and I shook my head.

"I got it. It's actually what I came to show you; got some things to sell," I told him, putting the bag down on the counter, hearing the clink of its contents. I pulled open the drawstring and reached inside, not even fully aware what was in there, just that Arthur had collected it all over the past few months and hadn't had the chance to sell it before the Guarma situation. Penelope's bracelet was somewhere inside; her reward for all of his help.

I pulled out the first thing my hand touched; a smaller bag. It was filled with assorted rings, earrings, pearls.

"I usually buy bundles like that for fifty," the fence told me, "I don't have time to go through the whole lot and value individually."

"Sure, okay, but just for this little bag. There's more in here, some is worth far more than that," I told him, getting my insistence in early, making sure he knew I wasn't going to accept pittance. I flipped the bigger canvas bag and gently emptied it onto the counter.

Inside, I counted seven gold rings, a pocket watch, a necklace that appeared to be platinum, a sapphire encrusted bracelet that I guessed was Penelope's…And rather disturbingly, a gold tooth. The fence inspected the lot, checking for markings, its condition. He picked up Penelope's bracelet, scrutinising it more closely, watching the light dance within the stunning blue stones.

"This is really nice. I won't ask how you acquired it," he said, and I had to chuckle considering it was probably the most honestly acquired of the bunch. He never said a word about the tooth. "I'll give you seventy-five for the bracelet. The other stuff… one hundred."

"A hundred and seventy-five for the whole lot? But this is platinum. And the pocket watch and all the rest of it is gold. You can do a little better than that, sir. That bracelet's gotta be worth a hundred on its own," I raised my brows at him. He met my eyes over the bracelet and chuckled.

"I can do one-eight-five," he offered. I pursed my lips, clasping my hands together and tilting my head at him. He laughed again, shaking his head at me. He put the bracelet down and stared at the lot.

"You can do two-hundred. You know you can," I said cheekily. He blew a jet of air between his lips, brows jumping. "Pretty please?"

"You're gonna try sweet-talking me, Miss?" He accused, humoured.

"What do you say? A tidy two-hundred?" I offered my hand out. He considered, looking at my outstretched hand.

"Two-hundred…" he muttered, then roughly took my hand, shaking it once.

"Yes! Thank you, sir!" I cheered, clapping my hands together.

"Since you're so polite," he murmured, turning to his register and opening it up. He counted out the money and handed it over. I tucked it away in the bottom of my bag, and was as aware of it as I was the revolver at my hip.

"Much appreciated, you take care, now," I nodded at him, spinning on my heel and heading out before he had the chance to change his mind.

"You too, madam, watch that leg," he called, and I smiled over my shoulder at him.

I took a deep breath of the salty air, smiling on the sharp exhale, and started heading back up the boardwalk towards dry land. I headed for the saloon, where Rayna was still hitched. I gave her a rub on the neck before stepping up onto the deck and entering the saloon. I glanced around once I was inside; spotting a mix of characters. Mostly drunk locals lounging about the place, a couple of women, and some more sharply dressed men at the back of the room. I took a spot at the bar, leaning my elbows on it and greeting the lady serving.

"Can I get a beer, please?" I asked, sliding a coin across the bar. She cracked open the cap of a bottle and placed it in front of me, "thanks," I added.

I took a first sip, sighing out at the quiet moment in the saloon. Well, it wasn't quiet, the place was full of chatter and noise, but quiet in the sense that it was normal. I was just sitting at a bar, having a drink, on my own. Something I hadn't done since before I joined the Van Der Linde gang. Not that for a second I missed this kind of life, not once Arthur and I grew close, but it was a nice if not strange reprieve from my new reality.

"Whiskey, please, ma'am," one of the well dressed men from the back of the room appeared beside me. He was quiet while he waited for his drink, but I sensed him looking at me. I wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone, so I kept my eyes on my beer.

"Here you go, officer," the barmaid said as she handed him his drink, and my heart thumped.

"You just come in, Miss?" He asked, and I knew he was speaking to me. I lifted my head. The gentleman was raven-haired and had skin so pale it was almost sickly, a pair of waxy, dull grey eyes and a large mole on his cheek. He wore a clean suit and his hair bore the flattened style of someone who wore a hat until sitting down at a table.

"Uh, yeah. Couple minutes ago," I nodded, then averted my eyes.

"My colleagues and I did the rounds already; we're asking folks around here a few questions. There's been a criminal gang pass through these parts," he said. My lips parted and my eyes widened, a gasp sucking in without my permission. "You alright, Miss?"

"Is… is it safe to be here?" I asked, straightening up and looking around anxiously.

He breathed a laugh and smiled reassuringly. "Me and those fellers back there," he turned and glanced their way, and I followed his gaze. "We're with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. It's our job to keep people safe, while we're around, you ain't got nothing to worry about."

"Well, that sure is a relief," I exhaled, hoping my nerves wouldn't seem suspicious, given the circumstance.

"We're here mostly to ensure the people of Van Horn remain vigilant while these people are in the area, and also to make them aware that there's people they can report to should they notice anything odd," he continued, taking a sip of whiskey with his pause, "are you aware of the Van Der Linde gang, Miss?"

"Well, sure, I've read the name in the papers. I try not to get too caught up in it, however, frays my nerves," I told him. "But it's never been so close to home before," I shook my head.

"We understand that the gang's leader and four other men passed through here when they arrived back in the country via boat. They were in the state of Lemoyne for some time, and after a raid of their settlement they… they escaped capture and we believe they headed up this way. We're patrolling the area, but we're asking that people sound the alarm if they spot any of the people we're looking for. I have some photographs," he told me, reaching into his inner jacket pocket.

"You do?" I murmured quietly, looking at him through the corner of my eye as I sipped my beer– well, pretended to. I couldn't trust myself to swallow it without choking while I was so tense.

The Pinkerton placed a pile of small photographs in front of me. On the top of the stack, was Dutch.

"These men do not make up the entirety of the gang, there is a group of more than twenty men, women… and children," he sighed, then tapped on Dutch's face, "all following Dutch Van Der Linde."

"More than twenty? That's a big group. And you ain't managed to track 'em down yet?" I cocked a brow at him.

He chuckled at my criticism, droning some excuses while I ceased to listen, picking up the photographs and shuffling through them. They were all mugshots; Javier, Bill, John, Charles… of course, Arthur. I stared at his photo, his straight, unhappy face, his cold, level gaze, his strong jaw and lips pressed tight together in a threatening line. He was him, but so different to the version of him I was familiar with. This was the way they saw him.

"Do you recognise this man?" The Pinkerton's words pulled me out of my head and I met his eyes. My lips parted but I struggled to find something to say.

"No, he's just–" I stammered, looking back at the photo, "I realise it may be inappropriate given what a terrible man he is, but I can't help but notice what a handsome face he has," I breathed a laugh.

He hummed, polite but with distaste. He took the photos back and put them away in his pocket. "You're not the first woman to have made such comments. I would've hoped they'd have more sense, or better taste."

Something flickered in me. A twinge of possession. It reared its ugly head now and again and each time I battered it into submission.

"He's probably awful, though. A pretty face means nothing, then," I said, the corner of my lip curling up. I was suddenly having a little fun talking to the enemy, while he had absolutely no idea who I was. "I couldn't imagine how awful it'd be to be courted by such a man. To run with that gang. All those awful, heartless men," I tutted.

"This is the sort of poison we're trying to save America from. These outlaws, they– they tarnish this land. Take all that is pure and stain it with the blood of the innocent, and all the while do it with an entitled sense of invincibility as if they are free from all consequence. How they live like that and still sleep at night is beyond me."

"Beyond me," I agreed, nodding slowly. "It's terrible."

"We have had small victories, however. A member of the Van Der Linde gang was shot dead in the streets of Saint Denis last month; Hosea Matthews," he told me. My stomach turned and I looked at him, trying not to let him anger me. "I was told the others watched it, he died right in front of them," his mean laugh made me want to knock his block off.

"That so?" I hummed.

"They said the look on Van Der Linde's face was better than any paycheck," his teeth practically shone with his grin and I looked at them, wondering what it'd be like to see him picking them up off the floor. I would never try it, of course.

"Well, Mr…” I began, offering my hand to him.

"Mr. Wilson," he took my hand and shook it.

"It's been a pleasure talking with you, but I must get going," I said.

"Of course. And it's been a pleasure talking to you too, Miss…" he replied, and I didn't answer his prompt to give him my name. Not even my alias. I just took my beer and walked out the door.

I paused for a moment outside, bringing the bottle to my lips and gulping down the last of it, tossing the empty bottle aside carelessly before striding over to Rayna and mounting her, side-saddle. I clicked at her, turning her away from the hitching post and onto the road, away from the agents.

[dolphin-enthusiast]

why hello again my sweet morgy~!! 💞🌠🍭 what a lovely evening to wind down with some writing and a glass of wine! hopefully you are doing alright!! well, of course school is going to make our days a little worse for now, but fingers crossed that i can offer a little brightness to you 😊💞 the second day of virtual school was extremely boring, i hate having to sit at a computer for hours,, so i ended up daydreaming and playing with fidget toys and eating lollipops hehe (1/8)

"yet again, you prove to be quite the charmer my dear morgane, out here once again with all of your smooth-talking! i swear, you will be the death of me one day, killing me with kindness,, i can only wish to be such a sweet person like you!! until them, i just have to keep pulling my dumb little one liners in hope of possibly flustering you back 😘 (2/8)

and today i made the unfortunate discovery that i have my ex and lots of mean people in my classes,, and so little of my friends! this is gonna be such a hard year i suppose :( sadly all i can do is hope that this year will be better than the last,, after all, as long as i can ignore/avoid them all staring at me and making comments, i'll be okay ❤ (3/8)

i had a hard time focusing in lots of the class video calls due to anxiety, so i doodled some portraits of my teachers!! i needed the practice anyway,, i haven't drawn in a while! i sent them teach the finished sketches and they both gushed with compliments!! it really cheered me up, i'm glad i was able to make people happy with my little doodles! 💖 (4/8)

speaking of drawings, i woke up to more artwork made of me! it's so so flattering, truly!! it shocks me how some of these artists do such amazing drawings for free, they're all so talented!!! ooh, and this reminded me, i should probably tell you all that all of the art, picrews, etc that's made for me and morg is saved in a special little photo album on my phone,, i call it "things people have made for me 💕" (5/8)

i like to go through them on bad days to lift my mood, so when i always say that your efforts mean a lot to me, i'm not lying 💓 but don't fret darling, even though we do deal with a lot of trouble in our daily lives, there'll be a time in the future when we'll get away from our bothersome struggles, no? and i do look forward to that incredibly so,, (6/8)

we have all of these improvised plans building up that i'm sure we can escape from all of the stress for a good while, we just gotta hang on until then!! and i'm always here to offer endless support, love, and wholesome stuff to brighten your day when you need it! one day at a time dear, we'll work our way there 💗💗💗 (7/8̶ 9)

oh, and of course i'll cook pasta for you amore, and fresh pasta at the least!! there's so many things i have to cook for you and others, so prepare for a feast in the future! after all, i only cook for my loved ones~ 🌺 ooh, i must've glazed passed that one ask about iris by the goo goo dolls,, i just wanna throw in that i absolutely love that song and my papa and i sing it all the time!! maybe i'll post a lil singy thing of that song here... 😖 (8/9)

oh dio, it seems the time has flown too fast again,, i wish these moments could last longer!! at least i can come back tomorrow and see you again! so i bid you a goodnight dolcezza, make sure to take care of yourself! as always, i'm thinking of you 💌 - tutto d'amore, waifu xoxo 💋 ps: don't worry amato, everyone is awkward when first learning to dance (even me!), but i'm sure you'll learn fast when i teach you 💘 (9/9)"

Before anything else if yo ex trynna start shit....je suis here👁️ iS thIs gUy bOtHeriN u qUeEn??

But like i felt that on a spiritual level online claases make me absolutely bored and i almost fell asleep so many times in the past also bc my sleep schedule is fucked so unlike the times i'd get up and freshen up a little now it was like me fighting off with my own body 10 min before online class starts asmr dhshdhdhd (i also basically end up playing video games or watching anime when shit really gets boring lmao)

AnYwAYs thats so wholesome?? The fact that ppl keep makin u stuff and u saved it in a folder too🗿 which reminds me...trust me i aint this wholesome or kind really u dont give urself enough credit dear u can b very sly/smooth if u want to so its def not just me here👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️

Now i could only ever dream of having such a positive attitude as urself bc my dumbass gets thru life by ignoring and pushing down everything which is hella unhealthy but do we care n o t a t a l l ksshhx if anything im glad u keep maintaining a positive aura urself and i have to agree we have so many plans its unreal.....it just succs that life b kinda wack🤡🔪

On another note it sounds to me like we'll have to not only dance but also sing together....i have a feeling i said this before but s t i l l👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️👁️

[abnormalpsychology]

The Bully (part one)

[HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Ya boi is excited bc I’m uploading my first-ever fanfic!! @joshua-rush-fanpage I hope you like it! This is part of the Valentines Day Friendom Gift Exchange. I wrote quite a lot more than I expected to, so the tag #myfanfic on here will be where you can find the rest uploaded later today. Sorry about the spacing errors— I originally wrote this in a google doc and Tumblr was being weird when I tried to fix them. I really really hope you like it! The first part is utter shit as a warning but it gets better!!! Hopefully I write more stuff soon, but here’s a little GHC to warm your hearts for now. I can’t believe I’m leaving a long, shitty, Wattpad-ass Author’s Note for the whole world to see but here we fuckin’ are. I also did not think I was the Soulmate AU type, but ALSO here we fuckin’ are. Meme mutuals please don’t think I’m lame I PROMISE IM COOL UwU. Have a lovely day even if you don’t read anything besides my ramblings. Thanks for making a community where I feel brave enough to finally post some writing I’ve worked hard on. I’m very grateful. <3 @swingsetboys Thanks so much for arranging this.]

Kids normally started thinking about their soulmates and deciphering their marks once they got their first crush, but Cyrus Goodman was different. He’d been worried about love all of his life, and the more he thought, the less sense it made. Trusting fate was generally put forward as the best way to deal with soulmate-related issues, at least before you met them, but Cyrus was finding that trusting fate was remarkably more difficult than all of the online articles and books in his parents’ offices made it sound. He wondered sometimes if he maybe was the universe’s first-ever mistake, a legendarily big screw-up, and this was a concern that was difficult to express without simultaneously concerning everyone else around him.

Cyrus’ mark was in what he had decided was the worst possible place it could be— his back. Two solid pitch-black handprints were indented into his skin so he had to twist around in the mirror to even glimpse the peculiar birthmark, like a two-year-old’s art project smushed across his skin or a crude frat party drawing etched on during a hangover was supposed represent his hope for the future and the person he was supposed to love more than anything. He’d always felt weird about it. The question that was tied most to it, the great white whale, the million-dollar-Jeopardy one, was what the situation could possibly be that would cause the mark to light up, to fill with color, when it made contact with his future spouse’s skin.

They’re gonna... push me? It was still, after years of contemplation and stomachaches, the best theory he had. The first way the person he was supposed to find eternal happiness with was by them trying to hurt him. That sure didn’t sound like love to him.

How would he make them angry? What would he do wrong?

The thought was his shadow, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t want to make them angry, though! He wanted the person he was destined to spend the rest of his days with to like him right off the bat. He wanted the happy ending that everyone got.

“It’s fate,” Buffy had said and shrugged at their final summer sleepover before seventh grade began. “I mean, you can’t do anything to change it, Cy. I’m pretty sure you can’t fool the system by covering it with a tattoo. Since you always try to be as nice as possible anyway, I think you’re doing all you can.”

“Yeah.” He squinted. Maybe I’m just not good enough at being nice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, seeing through his words. “Cyrus. You really need to stop forgetting how cool you are. It’s annoying.”

“Thanks, Buffy, I just hope my soulmate understands my annoying… ness.”

“That was a joke—“

He gasped, shooting up with wide eyes. “What if I annoy them too much and that’s why they push me? What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

“Cyrus, I’m fairly certain that you would never be destined to spend your life with a total jerk. You may be weird, but that’s why soulmates love us, dummy. That’s why we love you.”

The two exchanged a smile, and Buffy reached around to squeeze his hand with her comforting smile.

“You’ll know when you see them anyway, because that’s like the whole thing. So… I don’t know. Maybe the push will be an accident or something. If it helps, I’ll personally remove the toenails if anyone who messes with you.”

“Well, I think,” Andi interjected like the voice of God from above, staring at the pair from her position of power on Cyrus’ couch. “You should stop worrying about something completely inevitable. It’s coming, like it or not.”

The boy let out a yelp and rubbed furiously at the goosebumps blooming on his skinny arms. “You didn’t have to phrase it like that, Andi!”

“Seriously,” Buffy agreed, eyes wide and unfocused. “Yikes.”

“It shouldn’t be scary. You two should really trust yourselves more. Future us will all make good decisions, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Probably.”

She leaned over to look down at her two best friends, reduced to frightened messes at the thought of someone who loved them, and deeply did not understand.

“I trust future Andi, at least. You two are weird.”

She stuck a bookmark made of old newspapers into the John Green book she was skimming, one of Bex’s favorites. She’d explained earlier about how since her older sister would be coming to visit her for the first time in practically forever, she had better know something about what she liked. Although from her various annoyed growls that echoed from above every once in a while, her friends could tell Andi’s tastes maybe differed from the latter’s.

“Real life isn’t that dramatic! Certainly isn’t as dramatic as this Augustus”—she gesticulated to the paperback copy—“thinks it is! What’s even going on in this book?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, setting the book down by the lamp.

“Yeah, whatever.” Buffy turned to look doubtfully over her left shoulder at her other best friend, from the spot on the calming maroon carpet where Cyrus was French-braiding her curls. “If you think all this soulmate crap will be totally drama-free, all relaxation and games, Andi, you’re kidding yourself. And it’s middle school.”

“You might want to rethink your position here,” agreed Cyrus, twirling a lock dastardly between his fingers.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen as butter filled the warm air, clashing with the rosy scent of the aromatherapy stuff Celia insisted on spraying everywhere before anyone else entered the house, even though it was just Buffy and Cyrus. They’re very well-behaved, Andi would always say, even though one was now swatting like a kitten at the other. True friendship.

“Stop that! Grow your own facial hair so you can stop using mine!”

“Low blow,” Andi commented.

“Never!” He fell backwards onto the carpet with a grunt as she attacked him with her fringe scarf, smacking her opponent with swift malice. Andi got up to go get their popcorn from the microwave, hopping easily over the destructive swarm of thrashing limbs on her floor.

The two broke apart, close to the door now. Like wrestlers, the kids sprinted to either corner of the room.

“Every time! This is why I don’t let you braid my hair, Cyrus!”

“You underestimate me! Now I have a secret weapon!”

A shadow rushed forward and cackled menacingly, a beautifully stitched pillow in shades of pink and red held aloft to decimate his friend.

“No! Bad Cyrus!” Andi scolded from the kitchen. “I made that for Bex!”

“This isn’t a Western!” Buffy yelled, hands up in surrender. “You aren’t going to tie Andi to the train tracks, no more!”

Cyrus pouted mutely, savoring the power, then conceded mercifully. “Ohhh-kay.”

“Maybe that’s why your soulmate will push you,” Buffy laughed. “You attack them, viciously, in a war of pillows.”

His face fell again, the weight of worry and insecurities returning instantly.

“Dammit.” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I will... I’d demolish them, anyway.”

The three collapsed onto the couch together once Andi returned, mutely chewing their popcorn, their feathery Cold War forgotten. They could still hear cicadas outside. It didn’t quite feel like school yet, and something about that made the night seem more important, more meaningful, and made them all the more grateful for the other people who they felt like they could tell anything.

“Soulmates are weird to think about, though,” Andi added. “I mean, it’s not something you can teach in school or anything. How one person is made for another. I think it’s pretty crazy. Although I bet Augustus and Hazel would disagree.”

“Yeah, love’s simple until you think about— like— what if they die before you meet them?” Cyrus said, the years’ worth of anxiety seeping into his words. “Assuming it isn’t a fate thing. What if you’re the first one to prove it wrong? Or… you don’t know if you like that type of person?”

“Well,” Buffy chimed in, shrugging. “I mean, people always do, so…”

The trio fell quiet.

“Like soulmates or not, we can agree the marks are freaky as hell?”

“Absolutely.”

“At least you don’t have your mark in as weird a place as me.”

“Buffs, yours is on your hand. That’s not that weird.” Cyrus reached over her back to lightly touch the white splash of color across her right palm, and she jerked it away fast as if she was scared of it going off like a bomb. “High-fives happen all the time.”

“I know, but why would future me let anyone touch my hand? That’s not allowed!” She shivered dramatically. “Ugh. Can you imagine me all… stupid and love-struck? That would be remarkably awful.”

“Middle school,” Cyrus said, nodding sagely. “It changes all who experience it.”

“Well,” Andi whispered, suddenly solemn. “I guess we’ll find out if it changes us too.”

“Guess we gotta trust that the Future Good Hair Trio will make good choices. Soulmates or otherwise.”

The three looked around.

“At least we’ll have each other. No matter who comes, we’ll at least have each other.”

[stormspe]

New Girl

This is pretty rough and unedited, but I wanted to post it before midnight because it’s my girl Whitley’s birthday today and I had to celebrate somehow. I always kinda wondered why Whitley became friends with Yuko, Yuki, and Maya, and I’ve been thinking a lot about friendships lately, so...here’s a piece that’s all about finding a friend.

It had been a disastrous first day for Whitley.

She had only just introduced herself to the class when the teacher, Mr. Cheren, announced that the class would be having a Pokemon battle tournament. She expected that there would be Pokemon battles at the Trainers’ School, but on her first day? Just her luck.

Whitley hadn’t been trying very hard in her first two battles, but it turned out that she didn’t need to. Her first two opponents were ridiculously weak. Then, her final opponent had been relying on an advanced strategy to use Sigilyph’s Psycho Shift to pass off the badly poisoned status condition to the opposing Pokemon. However, Foongy’s immunity to being poisoned threw her off her game, and Whitley got so excited by accidentally outsmarting her opponent that she forgot to try to lose.

So she’d won the girls’ tournament, and her prize? A Pokedex. As if learning to be a Pokemon Trainer wasn’t bad enough, now she was tasked with filling the device that was the epitome of everything that N stood against. Her only consolation was that it didn’t seem like her classmates resented her for winning the tournament…yet.

But even if they didn’t resent her, would they actually want to be friends with her? Whitley didn’t know how to make friends; she had been hoping that one of the other girls would invite her into their friend group. Either that or try to befriend her roommate…but she’d been given a single room, so that was out of the question.

She was so not looking forward to tomorrow.

Tomorrow came, and along with it their first class of the day: status condition studies, with Mr. Otoha. Whitley made sure to arrive early so she could have her choice of seating, and she made a beeline for an empty desk in the back of the room. Hopefully, she wouldn’t draw unwanted attention back here.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. As more students filtered into the classroom, one girl looked straight at Whitley and headed towards her. Whitley ducked her head and pretended to be immensely interested in the schedule on her desk, hoping the girl would ignore her. It didn’t work.

“Hey! Whitley, right?”

Whitley slowly drew her head up and made eye contact with the girl, who had sat down at the desk in front of Whitley. She was blonde and had her hair in a ponytail, and she wore a blue visor with a blue-and-white T-shirt. All in all, Whitley judged her to be the sporty, athletic type.

“Um…yeah,” Whitley said in response to her question.

“Cool! I just wanted to say congrats on winning the tournament yesterday,” the girl said, grinning widely. “I’m Yuki, by the way. Nice to meet you!”

“Um, nice to meet you too,” Whitley replied.

“Hey, so I was wondering, do you want to have lunch with me and my friends today?” Yuki asked.

“I, um…what?” Whitley stammered. It was exactly what she had wanted, and yet it was so sudden. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Before Yuki could respond, another girl approached them from behind. “Yuki, you’re in my seat,” the girl said, folding her arms crossly. She had short brown hair and wore a white wrap shirt, and Whitley recognized her as her final opponent from the previous day’s tournament.

Yuki rolled her eyes. “There aren’t assigned seats here, Ellie,” she said, but she stood up and let the other girl have the seat anyways. Then she turned back to Whitley. “So, what do you say? Lunch or nah?”

Whitley blinked a couple of times, but eventually nodded. It was what she’d wanted, anyways. “Great! Meet me in the caf. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the girls there.”

As Yuki walked back up the aisle to a different seat, the girl in front of Whitley turned around to face her. “Hey. I’m Ellie,” she said. She glanced briefly in Yuki’s direction before leaning an arm on Whitley’s desk and saying in a low voice, “Just between you and me, you do not want to be friends with Yuki and those girls. They’re shallow, and they don’t take battling seriously at all.” Ellie paused thoughtfully. “If you want to hang out with someone worth your while, meet me in the library at lunch. You can eat in there, and it’s much quieter than the cafeteria. It’s right across from it; you can’t miss it.”

Whitley nodded slowly as Ellie turned back to the front of the classroom. She couldn’t believe her luck now – in the span of just a few minutes, two different people invited her to have lunch with them. Maybe she was wrong to think that her peers would resent her for winning the tournament. So now she was faced with a different problem: which invitation should she accept?

Ellie obviously didn’t hold Yuki and her friends in high esteem. But the reasons why Ellie didn’t like them – “shallow” and “don’t take battling seriously at all” – seemed kind of comforting to Whitley. In fact, Ellie’s opinion of them reminded her of a comment she’d overheard one of the guys making…she didn’t know his name, but he had spiky blue hair. If he and Ellie were friends, she definitely didn’t want to hang out with Ellie – the spiky-haired boy was kinda intimidating.

However, Ellie hadn’t said anything about eating with friends. If it was just the two of them, it would give her the opportunity to get to know Ellie a lot better. She didn’t know how many friends Yuki would have, but if she was an athlete, she would probably have a lot. Whitley might get introduced to everyone, but it was unlikely that she’d be able to get a word in among a big group of girls.

In the end, when lunch period rolled around, Whitley headed to the library. Ellie was waiting for her by the entrance, and she had a big smile on her face when Whitley saw her. “You came!” she said, a little more eagerly than she meant to.

Whitley bit her lip and looked at the ground. “Yes, but…” Ellie’s grin faded. “I just wanted to thank you for the invitation,” she said, fighting the instinct to turn tail and run out of the awkward situation. “I’m grateful that you thought of me, but…I think I’m going to sit with Yuki and the others today. It’s nothing against you!” she added quickly.

Ellie sighed. “I get it,” she said, pressing her lips together. “No, really, I do. You’re new here, and you’d rather be social with a big group of people than hang out with one other girl in the library. It’ll probably be better for you in the long run.” She patted Whitley on the back. “Go ahead. Enjoy your lunch.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No, seriously. It’s okay. You do you, girl.”

“Maybe another day?”

“Maybe another day,” Ellie echoed, cracking a little smile. She waved goodbye as Whitley exited the library and began looking for Yuki.

Eventually, it was Yuki who found Whitley – she called her name and waved her over to a table in the center of the cafeteria. Whitley hurried over to the table and was surprised to find it occupied by only three other girls. One was Yuki, obviously, and the other two were girls that Whitley kinda remembered seeing around Yuki before. The smaller of the two girls had reddish-brown hair that she pulled into a small ponytail on the top of her head, styled in such a way that it looked like a sprout. The other had light brown hair a little shorter than Ellie’s, and she smelled strongly of Honey.

“Hey! You made it!” Yuki exclaimed as Whitley sat down. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Um, something like that.”

“Hi! I’m Yuko!” the sprout-haired girl exclaimed, sticking out her hand for Whitley to shake. “Nice to meet you!”

“And I’m Maya,” the Honey-scented girl said.

“It’s good to meet you all,” Whitley said politely.

“Okay, first off, can I just say that I am sooo jealous that you got to hold Blake’s hand when you were getting your Pokedex yesterday?” Yuko said.

“I wish he would hold my hand like that!” Yuki exclaimed. “And look into my eyes, and say my name in that dreamy way of his, and tell me he loves me…”

“Oh, Yuki, we all know that if he’s gonna do that to anyone, it’ll be you,” Maya assured her.

“Of course,” Yuki declared. “Maybe he’ll do it on our field trip next week!”

“Ooh, that’s right, I totally forgot about the field trip next week!” Yuko said. “Did they ever announce where we’re gonna go?”

“Nope, they want it to be a surprise,” Yuki said. “I’m hoping we’ll go to Join Avenue. There are so many cute shops there…have you ever been, Whitley?”

Whitley blinked. “Um, no, I haven’t,” she said.

“We have to take you there sometime!” Yuki declared. “My favorite shop is the salon. I bring Wingull there for a grooming every month.”

“I haven’t been since my birthday,” Maya said.

Whitley boldly jumped into the conversation. “When is your birthday, Maya?” she asked.

“August twenty-fourth,” Maya chuckled. “When is yours?”

“Yeah, when is your birthday, Whitley?” Yuko asked.

“September sixteenth,” Whitley answered.

“Wow, that’s really soon!” Yuko exclaimed. “We’ve gotta get started on getting you presents!”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”

“Of course it is,” Yuki asserted. “We’re your friends, and friends get each other presents.”

Whitley’s eyes widened a little. “We’re…friends?”

“Yes, we’re friends, silly,” Yuko laughed. “You’re not a jerk, and you agreed to have lunch with us. What more do we need?”

“I…I just, um…”

“You weren’t expecting to make friends this quickly?” Yuki guessed. “The three of us, we’ve all been there. We were all the new girl at one point or another. I spent my first year at the Striation City Trainers’ School, but then we moved, and my parents decided to send me here instead.”

“I moved here from Johto four years ago,” Yuko said.

“And I just came here last year,” Maya said.

“We know how it feels to be the new girl, so we want to make the experience better for you,” Yuki finished.

Whitley felt a little overwhelmed by the three girls’ kindness, and she felt tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Huh? Whitley, what’s wrong?” Maya asked worriedly.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” Whitley sniffled, attempting to dry her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong at all…”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because…because…thank you. Thank you so much…”

Thank you for wanting to be friends with the new girl.

Happy birthday, Whitley <3

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 48-49: This Season Sure Went Out With a Whimper

So here I am thinking I gotta finish up Yugioh S1 so I can at least make sure that’s finished before I start my next pile of projects, and then um, turns out that these two episodes were SO SHORT and filled with SO LITTLE CONTENT that I could basically polish them off real quick. Like there’s only 24 caps for 2 episodes. That’s impressive.

Normally, I pace these out because that’s how long it usually takes for me to make these since I just kinda build it in my drafts with my bro throughout the week, but I have the day off today so I’m just gonna post these back to back to the one that came before, no need to hold out and make a queued post. This isn’t my main blog, I don’t care--have some more content, guys.

It is impressive how little these last two episodes matter. They said what they needed to say last episode, and so now they are contractually obligated to just shove just a whole lot of this game-play mechanic for Dungeon Dice Monsters. Also, this itty bitty computer showed up out of nowhere.

Has it...been here the whole time? Huh. Man--I think it MAY have been there? I just didn’t even notice. And check out this early 00′s computer design. That takes me back. I feel like I had a calculator that was just a mini version of this.

Joey’s still a dog, mostly out of pride.

My prediction of Grandpa walking in on this airing on TV came true, but not in the way I expected.

He’s strangely OK with the fact that Yugi broke his one rule. Just one rule. Yugi broke it. Immediately.

(read more under the cut)

Yeah this was a thing that happened. Pharaoh reading a manual on a computer. Really glad we get the feeling of pulling out the manual and reading the little font while your other friend is trying to explain the game directly into your ear, thus confusing you even more.

But he manages though.

And then we get an eye test, mid battle.

I just want to point out that in this episode we find out that Pharaoh sees like super well. He’s insanely good at eyesight to see a dice at 40 ft away. Just bear that in mind because then it’s followed up by this.

Look at this board! How do you not notice this? Anyways, after that, Yugi has to use Devlin’s red path or whatever, but it’s dangerous, so, because there’s just a hair of doubt, it’s enough reason for them to start being like “Well I’m done. It was fun. I’m retiring.”

Honestly, I think spending all this time connected to Yugi has sort of effed with Pharaohs blind confidence.

Joey in the dog suit was a whole lot of dog puns--which were unbearable, but I do like the idea of Joey in a dog suit. Kinda sad that we have to say so long to dog suit when I was just starting to get it.

Afterwards, Duke has a change of heart. It’s not that often we see a guy actually apologize for being an ass on Yugioh. And he did it all without being mind wiped. I think. The screen did actually go negative-colors, but it didn’t shatter, so I assume that Duke was not obliterated.

I think.

Reminder that Yugi would have spent 10 minutes of that TV show reading a manual. Worst game that ever aired.

He’s certain that his store will never succeed and so now he should just shutter his doors and windows, but Yugi and Grandpa scoff at that idea because they have been living off of the income of a 5 ft store space for like 15 years and if they’re OK, literally anyone can do it.

Yugi actually doesn’t tell Duke the real reason for this is that he’s two people. Instead, Yugi says something trite about being friends forever, because Duke doesn’t realize that if you want Yugi to really love you, just bully him for a while and then he’s forever hooked. Duke agrees to this friendship, and hopefully that won’t kill him inadvertently in a later episode? We’ll see. Most of the people in this room have died at least once.

Welcome to the Spanish class cult, Duke. It’s weird here.

BUT THEN:

Wait. Don’t do that. Don’t work with Pegasus. OMG What? Why is this a good thing? Wait. Show. Show. We spent 40-some episodes talking about how evil Pegasus is, what is happening?

Yeah OK. So that’s...that’s the Duke arc. He freakin decided to work with Pegasus and everyone thought it was a good idea.

Really?

I mean he doesn’t have a millennium eyeball anymore but like...he’s still super effed up. That was the reward? To work for a guy who should go on trial reaallllly soon for murder?

Is Pegasus never going to jail, what is this universe!? He put Kaiba and Mokuba in a card and they’re not gonna sue? Really!?

Actually that makes a lot of sense since Kaiba got really freaked in the bean last arc when he got electrocuted in that pod. And this was after the Pharaoh mind-wipe and getting encased in paper and turned into a zombie for a few days.

Yugi dropping all these puns about how he’s two people right in front of Duke Devlin, eyes unblinking. “You’ll never know where you’ll FIND them” he says “You never know!” 

This cursed child. Nothing will fix you, but at least you found a positive way to deal with it. There’s something to be said for that.

Well, that’s a quiet note to end this season on (I mean no one even died that arc what the hell?), but I guess they already knew a season 2 was in the bag because there’s...a few loose ends they didn’t even bother to tie.

So, just so you know for anyone following, I’m gonna take a few weeks to do some other things, I got some paintings to paint, I got some webcomic backlog to draw, but I’m not abandoning this project, I’ll be back for Season 2. I’d make predictions, but my bro has told me that it is so weird and different from this season that there is no point in predicting anything.

This bizarre show. This show really is just stockholm syndrome for bad hair. You realize it has taken me about 49 episodes but...the hair doesn’t bother me anymore. That’s weird. I went hair blind because of Yugioh.

ONE LAST THING! Before I forget, again! Like I have literally every other recap this season:

http://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

There, that’s the link the see these episodes in Chrono order. In case you came, just now, to this blog, just click on that link and then you’ll be set. It even filters out all the replies posts, so it’s recaps only. Way better than reading everything backwards.

[survivor-themyscira-blog]

Raymond left, I'm extremely happy about that since he comes off as a huge comp threat and not at the hindrance to my own tribe! Premerge I want comp threats with me but he wasn't with me! This challenge I really want the reward, I have the effing clue, if I we get it, I can get Madeline to burn her searches to give me more insight on the island for my searches.

Oh boy this challenge is about to be.......... not fun. 1/3 of our tribe is present. 1/2 are asleep and the other 1/6 is Madison and she's NEVER HERE jfkldsjflas I can't wait to lose!!!!!!!!!! Logan and I are gonna try to pull this out anyway but

who tf designed this challenge! it makes me mad. i better get some sort of advantage outta this grr.

We stan being the only one awake! LOL but it's fine I'm gonna stay up late and chat with my friends I haven't talked to in a while. But this game... I love it! I love all comps. So cute. But also ... tag yourself ready: On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, charlotte (themyscira host) wrote: > f4 On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, jaiden nolan wrote: > fact On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, Jack (Ginga) wrote: > fast On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, Emily wrote: > free On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, rhone (ios host) wrote: > fork On 10/20/17, at 10:10 PM, Jordan Pines wrote: > fate All of these ... tell a lot about a person. I'm a psychic. This means things. Jack is fast and this has been proven with this challenge. Emily is free meaning ... I don't know but it's very me. Rhone is a fork and I think that suits him and Jordan is fate because like idk. It just SAYS THINGS about us okay Also I feel bad volunteering Amanda to sit out but :-/ she's less active than the boyz and Andreas will help out once he wakes up. I'm silly to think that the Europeans wouldn't be able to help this round! Because they can cover the graveyard shifts for us hehehehehehehehehe HA I LOVE IT thank u europe

I love this challenge! And right now, we just passed Hippolyta and we're two points away from passing Antiope. This is great! Like we're so close! And right now, we're not going to tribal! But we still have until 10PM tonight... Hopefully we can just build up more of a lead and keep ourselves safe. I'm scared!!!!!!!!!!!

On 10/21/17, at 12:55 PM, Ruthie wrote: > loser On 10/21/17, at 12:55 PM, Jordan Pines wrote: > Loser what they’re gonna be by 10PM tonight hehe

HONESTLY, I know this was last challenge but I'm still pissed about the music video challenge. HOW WE GOT DINGED ON PARTICIPATION WHEN WE HAD OUR ENTIRE TRIBE IN IT MAKES NO SENSE TO ME. OR CREATIVITY. OR PROPS. I MADE SLIME, I GOT A SLOTH PUPPET INVOLVED, WE MADE BLOOD, WE HAD WIGS. IT WAS A SPOOKY SONG FOR HALLOWEEN. We were robbed and whoever this Kayla person is I'm literally coming for you.

Yeahhhhh we probably lost this one. I can just hope the bond I sparked with Jaiden holds true, Madeline will work with me I know,(we swapped actual phone numbers so we can't be quoted when we talk bout the vote, iconic) and Toph should be on board as long as it isn't him. I'm looking at taking out Billy or Ruthie

God F U C K I N G damn ITJDFJCSAKFJLSK;D I LITERALLY SAID THE SECOND I DECIDE TO ACTUALLY TAKE A SHOWER AFTER WAITING OVER AN HOUR FOR THE NEXT LETTER WORD COMBO...... THE HOSTS WOULD SEND IT AND GUESS WHAT THEY DID? THEY SENT IT RIGHT WHEN I GOT INTO THE SHOWER AND IM SO ANGRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but this is still fun u know I'm just pissed the heck off

Just send us to tribal already, this challenged f**ked our sh*t up fam.

I really hate feeling like I'm giving 120% on challenges and everyone else on my tribes aren't and I DIDN'T EVEN REALLY MEAN TO SIGN UP FOR THIS SO IT MAKES NO SENSE TO ME.

Word Up should just be named whose the fastest cheater. NO ONE KNOWS A 17 LETTER WORD STARTING WITH Q OR SOME SH*T. It just makes this whole thing cater to a lack of sportsmanship but it does show whose willing to cheat and that is telling for later in the game.

My tribe right now- [10/21/17, 7:20:00 PM] jaiden nolan: SHE says she thinks a pipe burst and that’s why the ceiling was leaking......not at all that she flooded a fucking bathroom....... [10/21/17, 7:20:12 PM] Ian Layne: WHO FLUSHES PAPER TOWELS? [10/21/17, 7:20:34 PM] jaiden nolan: okay but who flushes less than five paper towels and has it clog [10/21/17, 7:21:06 PM] jaiden nolan: like I know for a fact I’ve accidentally flushed things like paper towels, baby wipes, makeup wipes, etc and not had anything happen [10/21/17, 7:21:26 PM] Ian Layne: She took a mega dump and was embarrassed, I'm calling it [10/21/17, 7:21:53 PM] Madeline The Juicy Goose: Sounds like when I had a green bagel on st Patrick’s day [10/21/17, 7:22:06 PM] Ruthie: oh yikes [10/21/17, 7:23:19 PM] Ian Layne: I once drank too much at a bowling alley and had to get rid of my underwear so I flushed it, fun fact

Everyone is saying we can come back, we can come back! No it's mathematically impossible for us to comeback, never mind the variables of the other tribes do you really think 12 points is possible in one hour? We didn't defend a 13 point lead on Man Lips. We going to tribal Hippos

So! We thought for sure that we'd have to go to tribal, but as GOD would have it, we don't have to!! Menalippe? More like men-a-leaping to conclusions am I RIGHT

i am so sad that we lost i just need to make sure i'm not on ANYONE's bad side so i can stay :)

i am sad that we lost immunity, but now is the time to vote someone out. i think we need to vote out madeline because she is such a big threat to my game and i am pretending to talk on call about what i am reading this makes no sense also i think that she is going after billy too strong hehe

Me because no tribal: https://tmblrsurvivorextra.tumblr.com/post/166663831976

Hello my sunshines! WHAT IS GOING OOONNNNNNNNN! "Not much." "OK, cool." So, what happened this round? Not much. OK, cool. But really, the 24h challenge was cool, but Emily really carried our tribe. I got to chat a bit with Kai, finally, and he suggested that both of us should stick together with Emily - something I wholeheartedly agree with. Even if I don't trust Kai very much. We also agreed that SHOULD our Tribe lose, we'd go after Madison, since she's kinda invisible. Logan is in a similar position like me, not too revealing, but there and involved. I don't worry much about Amanda atm. She isn't participating much atm, so both our tribe and her old tribe would agree to vote her out at merge or something surely. She isn't a valuable ally to me either. I feel like I'm in a good spot atm and I hope that Ian and Billy survive todays Tribal Council! So I'll just leave you with my favourite quote from the last challenge: "Andreas scores for Menalippe with Circumcision!" SCORE!

Emily just suggested an alliance of me, Kai, and herself. Perfect. I won her over a little bit, and I think I got her to trust me a little more. I told her Dan and Raymond were my closest allies and they both got early boots, which they didn't deserve (true!), but I also told her I want revenge. That means Amanda and Jaiden are first on my hit list, next comes Jordan Pines. Not only did he probably help kill Raymond (fuck if I watch tribal) but he's also a MASSIVE threat. So gotta go. Updates to come~

Ian is taken way too long to respond to my simple question of ‘is billy still the plan’ what the heck

Well this vote is gonna be a rollercoaster ride for me due to Billy and Toph scrambling, but at least going forward(as long as I don't go tonight) Ruthie sold Jaiden down the river to Billy and not me about throwing Billy's name out. Seems like Madeline and I have protected ourselves well enough for this vote, but we shall see.

What is even HAPPENING why am i listening to JAIDEN

Nervous poop central, now boarding. I got a little mixed up in the chaos of pretribal anxiety because we were so close to having a stress-free vote, and Billy started scrambling. I crack so easily under pressure and for some reason, I just can’t stand being voted out so I did what I had to do in order to keep my name off the chopping block. I guess this includes forcing a clean vote to get messy and getting everybody to draw a colored rock... I think Ruthie is down for that. I told her to vote Toph with me and Billy in case of an idol and I don’t know if she IS or isn’t. But either way, my game will be damaged after the tie happens. My alliance will know I turned and my only escape route is to draw rocks with them involved ... fuck. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. The trust I established with them is thrown out the window if we tie. Idk what Ruthie’s intentions are but we’ll see :/ I’m scared. So scared.

[10/22/17, 9:14:04 PM] jaiden nolan: Ruthie. If you draw the bad rock I’ll play my advantage on you. I doubt we will go back to rocks [10/22/17, 9:14:15 PM] jaiden nolan: I love Ian and Madeline too but like, we can be a tbreesome with Billy if he stays JAIDEN IS INSANE WHY THE HECK DID I LISTEN TO HIM

I can't believe my number one in this game is going to be JAIDEN i don't understand how i trust him so much all of a sudden, this was not who was supposed to be my ride or die but here i am about to draw a ROCK.

I........ Jaiden said I was going to be safe in the redraw and DOT DOT DOT it's okay, it was fun I'm glad I got to go to rocks without being safe even though I hate that one was drawn for me! I've had fun playing this season and can't wait to see who wins the game!

GUESS I GOTTA ADD EVERYONE ON HIPPO TO MY HIT LIST HUH

My tribe? Assholes. Ruthie did not deserve that at all. And what's worse is none of them have my back. I want to hope Jaiden does, but he was just as on board for me to go until rocks was an option. I'm here to cause chaos now, and the silent people on my tribe better pray to god that I don't find an advantage or something. The best is, they made me sit out. And then I was targeted for not pulling my weight. Fuck. Y'all. Like mccuse me? It wasn't my fault that THE TRIBE decided I would sit out. I didn't ask to. And then THEY LOSE. THEY. FUCKING. LOST. UGH then they're all gonna lie to me. Where's that lasso of truth when you need it?

Fuck you and all your flash games R U T H I E W A S R O B B E D and I can’t believe I’m going to tribal in two days HUH SKSBSJSHEJ

I can’t believe that just happened. Honestly, poor Ruthie. She didn’t deserve to go out to rocks. For a moment I really thought that maybe my messy moves would work out for once, but NOPE LOL. I dunno, as sad as I am for Ruthie, I’m living for the utter chaos around camp. I can’t say I didn’t do something wild and reckless for the sake of having fun, and although this will probably send my ass out premerge, I played the messiest move I could think of. Unfortunately it was at Ruthie’s expense, but you win some and you lose some. There’s gonna be a LOT of heat on me the next few days. I’m gonna continue to do my best in the challenges and hopefully we’ll get a good immunity streak going until a swap happens. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a while, tbh.

This is literally me right now. http://78.media.tumblr.com/5180e47f3f3a1ad0bd0f04a6742989cd/tumblr_oxoavge6N71qd49gbo2_540.gif They're not gonna like me now that I'm frosty.

MY FIRST TRIBAL AND MY FIRST ROCKS AND I'M THE FIRST ONE SAFE.