#but I’m mostly interested in the red since I’ve been in a weird red kick lately

[corrodedparadox]

Looking to try out some red foil prints and I think I might start with these?

I’ve also been eyeing some iridescent + gold foil and I think these would look cool in foil,,,, so many choices. What the fuck.

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[i-cant-sing]

Please yandere v! All might or aizawa as a spooky Christmas ghost?

Christmas Nightmare: Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa

Hey there! Thank you so much for requesting! I had fun writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa:

It was 2 days before Christmas. You were on your way home from Home Depot. You had gotten your Christmas tree and decorations. And since you decided to buy it so late, you had to drive out of city to get the tree as those in the city were all sold out. But hey, at least you got a good deal!

Since it was a long drive back home, you had decided to do your grocery shopping too. As you were driving, munching on some chips, you noticed it had started snowing. The snow was covering the trees that were on either side of the road. It was getting dark, and only the lights from your car were illuminating the road.

Of course your old car had to break down. And that too in the middle of nowhere, where there was no cell service either. And you don't remember seeing any cars on your way either. As you were trying to get a signal, you almost didn't see the wooden cabin that was a bit hidden by the trees.

Now you've watched tons of horror movies to know that you should not go there. But it was getting cold, and now you could either die by hypothermia, or you could go there and hope that there is not a serial killer inside.

You chose the latter option. You went to the cabin and knocked a few times. When no one answered, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. In the dark, your hands looked for a light switch. When you found one and switched it on, you looked around the cabin. You appeared to be standing in the living room, there was little furniture, dust had accumulated everywhere. You found the fireplace and fortunately there was still some wooden logs and a matchbox there. You lit the fireplace up and decided to look around. You were surprised to see that the cabin was actually quite big. And it looked like it used to be inhabited by a family; you found some furniture, a few toys and some other stuff. It looked like that the cabin had been abandoned for a quite some time. You looked in the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, but you found nothing. It was a good idea that you had some snacks to get you to get you by.

You went back to the living room, sitting near the fire. As you were warming up, you looked out the window. It was snowing heavily now. You took your phone out and to your surprise you found a single service bar. You called for help, but the signal kept breaking up, and they managed to tell you that they wouldn't be able to get there as it was snowing too hard; the roads were blocked. Plus, it was Christmas time, nobody is going to want to help you now anyways. You hoped that help or anyone would drive by in the morning.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of someone walking. Heavy footsteps. There's someone inside the cabin.

You sat frozen, waiting for the serial killer to come. However, a few more minutes passed, but no one appeared. Curious, you decided to see who was there. You hoped it would be an animal. But after you had searched the entire cabin, you found no one. Neither an animal, nor a person.

Hm, maybe its a ghost. You thought to yourself. But I should've been able to see one due to my quirk.

Your quirk: Dead Eye, helped you see the dead. You had seen a lot of ghosts, most of them were harmless, and the bad ones usually just wanted to be left alone. That's why you weren't scared of ghosts anymore. People are far scarier really.

Maybe this ghost was just passing by. Or maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you. You were getting tired, so you decided to sleep on the old couch near the fireplace. The warmth lulled you to sleep, not knowing that someone was watching you.

When you woke up the next morning, the fire was almost dying out. You checked your phone a signal, call, message, anything. You looked outside the window, there was snow everywhere. You couldn't even see the road. It didn't look like you were getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. No one is gonna come on Christmas to help you. Which meant you were going to spend Christmas here in the cabin, alone.

Deciding to make the best out of your situation, you got the tree and the decorations out of your car. After you had brought the tree inside, you went to look for some cleaning supplies and cleaned the place up a bit. Once you had done that, you decorated the tree up. You kept on checking if someone was driving by or if you got some service, but you unfortunately didn't. As you were making yourself some dinner, you heard footsteps again. You also heard a door open and shut. And you felt someone creeping up on you. You whipped around and you finally saw the culprit.

"Do you need something?" you asked the pale man with red eyes and black hair. He looked a bit surprised hearing your question. "Well?" you pushed, your own heart pounding. "You can see me?"he asked, confused. "Oh you're a ghost! Yeah, I can see the dead due to my quirk." The man was even more surprised as you introduced yourself to him, not scared at all. "I'm...Aizawa. What are you doing here?" You explained your situation to him, and how you'll be out of his hair the day after Christmas hopefully. You both apologised and thanked him for letting you into his home.

The more you talked the more Aizawa felt happy? It had been so long since he had any sort of conversation, even though it was mostly you talking. It had been too long since he felt happy.

Aizawa apologised too for trying to scare you. He just wanted to be alone, no meddling humans to disturb him from his sleep.

You both kept on talking, you telling some stories and just rambling on, Aizawa just humming and sometimes gave a small smile. You're so adorable. So nice. And warm too.

He loved how you cleaned up his place and decorated the tree. He remembered the good times back when he was alive. And even though he was a villian, he still remembers the cozy days of Christmas he used to spend with his family. Family. The family the betrayed him. The same family he used to do break the law for. The same family that went to the cops to tell on him when they found out what he had been doing to provide for them.

Of course he killed them. He did not regret it one bit. What he did regret though was killing himself after that, thinking that he'd never be able to find love again. When in reality, he was looking right at it. You. Its you. You'll be his love again.

When you woke up on Christmas morning, you went to check your phone but you couldn't find it. You were sure you had it on you. As you were looking around, Aizawa came and wished you a Merry Christmas. You smiled and wished him as well.

Aizawa had brought you some eggs from a nearby bird's nest. You didn't want be rude, so you made them and had your breakfast. You made some small talk, telling him about the world, how advance it has become. But he was really just interested in your life. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? How many people know that you're here?

His questions were weird. But you thought that he's just an old ghost, and also has no company; he's just bored.

You were still talking when you heard the sound of a car. You whipped your head to the window and saw a car slowly driving by. Finally. You thought. I'm getting out of here now.

As you went towards the door, hoping that the driver will see you and help you, you suddenly felt something hit your head before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in of the bedrooms. Few rays of the moonlight were escaping the boarded window, indicating it was night time. What happened? As events of the morning came rushing back to you, you realised you were in grave danger. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge even though there was no lock.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the bed, the mattress squeaking under you. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. You tried to get of the bed, but it was like something was holding you down. You looked at him bewildered.

Aizawa started to explain "I've become attached to you. No. I've fallen in love with you. I know you're not in love with me right now but you will be." He walked towards you "you don't need to worry. I'll figure out a way for us to be together when I kill you. Then we can live here happily ever after." He stroked your hair. You went to kick him but he caught your leg in a tight, painful grip. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Now, now. Don't do something you'll regret. You don't wanna be on the naughty list now, do you?"

Hope you guys liked this one! Requests are still open! :)

[elentiyawhitethorn]

feysand blind date

Loving Every Second of It

Fluff//3010 words

Feyre wasn’t sure what she was expecting tonight.

Lucien had set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend and there was no way it wasn’t going to end miserably. Maybe Feyre would say something stupid and he would think she was weird. Maybe he would decide she wasn’t pretty enough or her clothes weren’t nice or she was just boring. Maybe some other woman who was everything she would never be would catch his eye. Maybe—

“I really hope you’re not still imagining ways this will end poorly.”

Feyre frowned. “Seriously, Lu, this is a bad idea.”

Lucien elbowed her. “You said, and I quote, “I’m done being a lonely spinster who’s too busy regretting my life choices to get laid.” Therefore I, as the good friend I am, decided to get you a date. And consequently, laid. So stop being a bitch. If it doesn’t end well, at least you put yourself out there, right?”

She sighed. “If it doesn’t end well, I will have to endure the long-lasting humiliation and despair for the rest of my life. That’s not something I’m inclined to want.”

“The only reason I’m still here listening to your self-pity is because I know if I leave you’ll chicken out.”

“And because I’m your best friend?”

“Yeah, that too.”

Feyre scowled and crossed her arms. “You don’t say that very convincingly.”

Lucien just smiled and gave Feyre a peck on the cheek. “You’ll have a good time tonight. Just be yourself.”

“But what if he doesn’t like myself?”

“He will. Azriel has good taste in people, as evidenced by the fact that he’s dating me,” Lucien stated matter-of-factly.

Feyre rolled her eyes but allowed a small smile to cross her features. Azriel had only started dated Feyre’s best friend a couple weeks ago, and she’d met the man a handful of times. It was his friend, Rhys, she thought he’d said, that she would be going on a date with tonight.

“It’s time to go,” Lu told her.

Feyre blinked. “Already?”

“Yes, don’t pretend you haven’t been counting the seconds. You’re such a bullshitter.”

A mournful sigh was all she gave Lucien before heading to the door. They had agreed to meet at the restaurant, a fancy, but also homey, little place downtown.

“Wait.”

Feyre almost growled out loud. If Lucien kept distracting her, she was going to lose her nerve.

“I’m driving you to the restaurant.”

Feyre spun around. “What do you mean you’re driving me? I was about to walk out the door.”

Lucien crossed his arms. “Yes, but that still leaves you with dozens of opportunities to turn back around. I won’t risk it.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes, but reluctantly allowed him to take her. The drive was unpleasant—Feyre would never admit it to him, but Lucien had been right. Had she had the option, she would have turned around by the time they pulled up at the restaurant. Feyre’s hands were clenched into fists to keep them from shaking.

She tried to think when she had become so nervous about dates. It probably had something to do with Tamlin. Tamlin was a bastard who had ridiculed and scorned Feyre subtly enough during their relationship that Feyre had begun to think of herself as worthless, entirely unaware it was his fault. She’d dumped his sorry ass after she caught him in Feyre’s own fucking bed with Ianthe, a “friend.”

Yes, that was definitely the cause of Feyre’s anxiety. She was never excessively social or flirty, but she had at least been cool and collected, as many guys noticed. Or they used to, anyway. Now she was scared to go on a single gods-damn date.

“Are you going to get out of the car, or are we going to sit here all night?” Lucien’s dry voice cut into her thoughts.

Feyre glared at him, not deigning to give a response other than a raised finger (try and guess which one) and getting out. She closed the door and turned around, checking her phone for the time before turning it on silent. It was only a few minutes before six-thirty, so he may or may not be there already.

Taking a moment—and making sure Lucien had already driven off—Feyre smoothed out her dress apprehensively. She was wearing a plain blue dress suited for a special occasion, but still simple enough not to be too flashy. Had she misjudged what to wear? Should she have with something more stylish? Or maybe more revealing, showing off more of her legs or breasts?

And her makeup—was it too plain? Should she have chosen better earrings? Should she be wearing more jewelry? Were her flats too drab?

Feyre almost wished Lucien had stayed to make sure she made it in the restaurant. Steeling herself for the inevitable letdown that tonight would be, Feyre went inside.

Before she had a chance to look around, she nearly ran into a man waiting at the entrance.

“Oh, you’re pretty.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

Feyre blinked. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” She was blushing and cursing herself for her lack of a filter.

Although, who could blame her? The man was dark-skinned, violet-eyed, and muscled, with dark, tousled hair and strong cheekbones. He was wearing an insanely hot dress shirt with the sleeves—the fucking sleeves—rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms. Pretty was a bit of an understatement.

The man was grinning now. The bastard probably had a lot of women telling him he was pretty. Feyre kicked herself internally.

“Well, if it makes it better, I think you’re pretty too.”

Feyre’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Um, thanks. I should… I have a date… with um…” She trailed off, the man smirking all the while. And then she thought of something.

“You’re Rhys, aren’t you? I mean sure, there are plenty of other people here who could be Rhys, but I have the worst luck, and telling my date he’s pretty totally qualifies as bad luck. Fuck, I thought we’d at least make it to the table before I scared you away. Oh shit, I’m just making it worse now, aren’t I?”

Rhys, or the random guy Feyre was assuming to be Rhys, smiled. Not condescendingly or rudely in any way, just more of an amused expression. “I am Rhys. Which I think makes you Feyre?”

Feyre nodded sullenly.

“It takes more than a beautiful woman complimenting me to scare me away, don’t worry. Why don’t we sit down?”

Feyre’s face was crimson, she was sure of it. She hadn’t expected a compliment from him after that little incident. She tried to think of what Lucien would say right now. Don’t worry, it’ll be a fun story to tell your kids. Okay, not helping.

Trying to turn off her brain, admittedly without much success, Feyre nodded once more and let Rhys lead her over to a table by the window. It was mostly dark outside, so the choice of seating only allowed to give them some privacy as opposed to being in the middle of the room. Probably not a conscious choice on Rhys’ choice, but Feyre quite liked it.

He also pulled the chair out for Feyre to sit. What a gentleman.

Feyre awkwardly fumbled with the menu, trying not to stare at Rhys’ beautiful face.

“Have you been here before, Feyre?” So much for that.

She looked up. “No, I haven’t.”

“I’ve been a couple times. Of course you can get whatever you like, but I would recommend the braised pork. It was delicious.”

Feyre bit her lip. “It sounds good.”

The waiter came over just then and Rhys asked for the braised pork for himself, then Feyre said to make it two orders.

He left, and the pair was left in silence once more. “So, Rhys,” Feyre said, making an effort not to be entirely silent. “Tell me about yourself.”

He smiled. “I work as an architect. I like reading, sightseeing, and talking to interesting ladies. How about you?”

Feyre snorted. “I’m an artist. I like, well, painting I guess. And jogging. And talking to handsome men, I suppose I should say.”

Rhys full-on grinned. “Tell me about your work. Is it just paint, or other types of art?”

Feyre answered his question, and then a few more. She tried not to talk too much, not wanting to take over the conversation, but Rhys showed such a genuine interest in her passion that Feyre could help opening up. By the time the food arrived, he knew her style, her favorite colors to use, her methods of gaining inspiration, and her opinions on some classic pieces that Rhys seemed to know more than the average person about.

Then the waiter interrupted with their meal. Once everything was served and Feyre had already dug into the pork, which was even more delectable then Rhys had let on, he asked another question.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you decide to try out a blind date?”

Feyre finished chewing, using the time to think about how to answer his question properly. “I ended a bad relationship a few months ago, and I’ve been a bit lacking in confidence since then. I guess I’m just sick of spending my weekends alone. What about you?”

“I’ve been searching for a relationship for a while. I’m interested in the idea of spending my future with someone, so when Azriel suggested a date with you, I jumped at the chance.” Rhys seemed to reconsider his words. “Not that I would be spending my future with you, necessarily.” He paused. “I mean—”

“No, I get it,” Feyre cut in, not wanting to hear any more of this. “I’m not the type of person you want to be in a serious relationship with.” She had known all along. Rhys was charming and handsome and smart and funny and there was no reason he would want to spend his life with her of all people.

Rhys’ eyes widened. “No, not at all!” he exclaimed. “That came out wrong. I was only trying to take it back so as not to pressure you. I didn’t know how much you’d be okay with hearing me tell you how interested I was in you after saying I’m looking for a relationship.”

Feyre blinked, surprised to find that it hadn’t been a dismissal. Surprised at more than that. “Oh.”

Rhys smiled, the first signs of nervousness shining through his calm demeanor. “I like you, Feyre. We’ve only been talking for fifteen minutes, and already I like you. And I’m not getting too ahead of myself by claiming you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Not nearly this soon; hell, I just met you. But I do think you should know what I’m looking for so we can end this before it goes too far. If you’re not ready for something like that, I mean.”

Feyre was stunned. Rhys not only liked her, but enough to tell her something like that?

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but I like you too,” she replied. And she meant it. Rhys was really nice, and very intriguing. She hadn’t considered what she wanted past a date. After all, she had been positive he would diss her by the end of it. But Feyre sure as hell wanted something with this man.

Rhys almost seemed surprised. “I’m not asking for commitment or anything like that. Certainly not on the first date. But maybe you can think over that later, and we can finish dinner now?”

Feyre smiled, still processing his words. “Okay.”

They dug in. There was less conversation than before, both because Feyre was too busy letting out content groans at the taste of the food and from the lingering awkwardness. But they did start talking more toward the end, Feyre snorting into her hand as she heard the end of some ridiculous story Rhys was telling her. By the time the waiter came over and let them know the restaurant was closing now, they’d returned to an animated conversation.

From everything to Rhys’ work as an architect to gossip about Azriel and Lucien to current events and old movies and bad jokes, it had crossed the discussion. Rhys was an exceptional conversationalist.

Rhys pulled out a wallet, but Feyre said, “We can split it.”

He glanced over. “I’ve got it, darling. Consider it my treat.”

Trying to suppress a shiver at the new nickname, Feyre said, “Really, I can help out.”

“Persistent, aren’t you? Maybe I’ll let you buy me coffee next time.”

Feyre knew he was teasing; there was no doubt he would refuse to let her pay next time. He seemed like the kind of guy to insist. Still, Feyre was more than satisfied with hearing that there would be a next time.

Disappointed with the fact they had to leave, but definitely pleased with how the date had gone, Feyre stood. Rhys walked Feyre out in silence, the latter surprised to find how long they’d been chatting. The restaurant was almost empty.

Feyre pulled her phone out of her purse.

“No ride, darling?” Rhys had raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“No, my friend dropped me off. He was worried I would flee if he didn’t actually bring me here himself.”

Rhys grinned. “Would you have fled?”

“Probably,” Feyre admitted.

“Let me drive you home. No expectations,” he added hastily at Feyre’s expression. “Just so you don’t have to wait out here. It’s getting cold.”

“Alright,” she agreed, very appreciative.

She’d sent Lucien a text and he had shot back a message letting her know he would be on the way. Feyre swiftly sent another text.

nvm rhys is dropping me off

Then she followed Rhys over to his car, laughing when he opened the door for her with a bow. Feyre wished she was the one driving; it would have been easier to keep her eyes off of him if she had something to focus on.

“Am I really that pretty?” So he’d noticed.

Feyre scowled. “Shut up.”

Rhys chuckled and glanced over, then turned his eyes back to the road. “I had a really nice time tonight, Feyre.”

“Me too,” she said.

The only words passed between them after that were directions on how to find Feyre’s apartment, fairly close to the restaurant. They were a street over when Feyre pulled a scrap of a receipt out of her purse, as well as a pen—Lucien often made fun of her having everything in her purse, but it was useful—and wrote down her number. They parked and Rhys looked over.

“So you don’t have to contact me through Lucien next time,” she clarified, handing him the paper.

Rhys smiled and put the paper in his pocket.

“Thank you for the ride, Rhys.”

He frowned mockingly. “What kind of person do you think I am, darling? Didn’t you know the good guys walk their dates to the door?”

Feyre laughed and mumbled something, getting out. Rhys stepped out of the car as well. But Feyre was starting to get nervous that Rhys was expecting something from her. Tamlin always had, after all.

They reached Feyre’s door and she stopped. But before she could say goodnight, Rhys seemed to realize why she was so anxious. He was too observant for his own good.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Feyre. I didn’t walk you here because I required anything of you.”

She flushed. “It’s not that I thought you would, exactly, I guess it just… been a while since I’ve met a nice guy.”

Rhys looked very sympathetic. “I understand. And for you, Feyre, I couldn’t care less if you wanted to drag me in your apartment and have your way with me now or wait a year to so much as kiss me. You’re worth it.”

There was no way Feyre’s face at all resembled a normal color. Or her ears. Or her neck. Gods, she was positively reeling.

“Really?”

“I had fun with you,” was all Rhys said.

Feyre barely noticed herself leaning closer. “Maybe a goodnight kiss wouldn’t be so bad.”

Rhys’ lips twitched and he assessed the sincerity of the statement. He leaned in slowly, giving Feyre every chance to back away, before planting his lips softly on hers.

Feyre melted into the kiss, obsessed with the soft feel of his mouth. It only last a few seconds, and Rhys’ touch remained featherlight. He pulled back, grinning.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

She leaned against the wall for support. She was probably swooning. “Goodnight.”

One last smirk was all she got before he turned and walked down the hall.

Making it into her apartment, Feyre tried to process what had happened.

She’d met the man and made a fool of herself. Still, he had been nice and showed an interest in her. Then he had said he desired a serious relationship with someone, and she was a good candidate. There had been some more startled deer-like behavior on her part and some more suaveness from him. Then he had been super gentlemanly about not expecting her to sleep with him.

Basically, he was all Feyre could have wished for—and then some.

Feyre groaned loudly, throwing one of her flats at the wall. Then the other. She wasn’t sure why she was angry. Probably just because she’d been so ridiculous tonight. Or maybe it was the pent-up up hormones.

Feyre glanced at her phone, saw about a dozen messages from Lucien telling her to have fun and “be safe.” She threw her phone on the couch and grumbled about what a nosy little asshole her best friend was.

Then she slumped to the floor.

Feyre was going to spend the rest of her life mooning over Rhys and making a fool of herself, she already knew it. And she was going to love every second of it.

Oh, she was screwed.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen // @feysand-loml // @infernoqueen19 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @midsizewitch // @sleeping-and-books // @story-scribbler // @thebonecarver

[shoichee]

Hii can I request Murasakibara crush hitting on him ?

i am here to offer you cute headcanons mwehehehe

Murasakibara x Reader

[Headcanons]

“Muro-chin… Am I too tall?” it was quite an unusual question considering it was coming from Murasakibara

“Well, you are the tallest here. Why do you ask?”

“Tch, never mind.”

while Murasakibara never really thinks about anything other than having a steady supply of snacks and how bothersome basketball can be, sometimes he gets agitated at the fact that Himuro is quite a popular looker himself because 1.) it’s way too noisy with people around and 2.) it does remind him that Murasakibara is universally feared by everyone and by all walks of life

he really is tired of the strange/fearful looks he gets from everyone: the little kids, his own peers, the elderly, and even some strays, but it’s something he’s mostly grown accustomed to

but recently, he’s been thinking about his physique ever since he fell a little too hard for you

since meeting you, you never gave any indication that you particularly cared about his height or limb length, but he still wonders if there is ever a chance in a million where you would actually like him romantically… like he’d admit that

it’s no surprise that he and Himuro are the default two peas in a pod everywhere they go, so every time someone would approach them, Muraskaibara immediately zones out or hobbles away to look for something interesting to do, assuming that they’re always here for Himuro

which is what he exactly thought when you approached them one day with a quite determined face (he wouldn’t zone out on you though, you’re the only exception where he’d stay to hear the conversation)

but your face immediately brightens up seeing Murasakibara, which lowkey gets his mind racing in confusion… did his heart thump a little faster? nOOoooOO what are you talking about??? that’s not happening right now, totally not…

“Murasakibara-kun!” you call out to him. “I wanted to tell you how cool you were in the Winter Cup! I actually always think you’re really captivating to watch when it comes to your basketball! If you don’t mind, if you still have upcoming practices, do you mind if I tag along? I already asked the coach and she was totally okay with it as long as I’m not disruptive, and I’ve already introduced myself to the other Yōsen teammates.”

Murasakibara blinks very slowly to process what you just said to him

“I don’t do anything but stand to defend.” You adamantly shake your head in such a cute way that he almost blushes at the sight… almost

“No way! You practically zoomed across the other side of the court so easily! Your dunks are so jaw-dropping too…!”

see, he’s not used to such positive attention that he can’t help but start mumbling, insisting that he’s tired of the sport and might quit soon, so therefore, you were “wasting your time with him”

Himuro was meanwhile standing there observing, his smile growing wider the more he sees that his suspicions were correct

he couldn’t believe it: all your compliments completely flew over Murasakibara’s head

for the next few practices you sat yourself on the bench, watching Murasakibara practice with stars in your eyes, and if someone looked really closely at you, your cheeks were tinted pink too

with his crush constantly at practice now, Murasakibara actually has an incentive to actually try and put effort into practice for you, albeit not too hard because he didn’t want to accidentally scare you if you suddenly changed your mind about his strength/looks

these actions definitely didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates; while it’s a relief that they don’t have to spend their time shoving the giant to practice, it’s a bit… weird

you’re always showering him with compliments, giving him snacks and bento boxes (not even with an excuse, just like LITERALLY straight up “I got this for you”), and always cheering him on when he does something you thought was cool in practice… you always even flock to him to give him water in case he needs it

the teammates, even the COACH herself, get a kick out of you laying it really thick on this giant and he’s here assuming you’re like Himuro and just a nice person

sometimes, you really try to send the signal by giving featherlight touches, whether it’d be a gentle brush, an encouraging pat on the back, things of that nature, but he’d just asked, “What are you doing, Chibi-chin?”

yeah, he grew comfortable enough to talk to you and give you a nickname (he’s very happy on the inside about this milestone)

pickup lines don’t work on him, he won’t get them; the best way for Murasakibara, you knew, was to give direct (but genuine! he can sense the fakes from a mile away) compliments, even if he doesn’t interpret them with romantic intentions/undertones

persistence is key when flirting with him… he’ll eventually get it, like a lightbulb would go off eventually

but he’d probably second-guess himself because he thinks that no one would really see him as desirable in a romantic sense; he’s someone to keep it to himself unless his crush makes a move

luckily for you, you’ve been someone who’s always been making the first moves since day 1

lo and behold, you ask him to a date at whatever place he wanted to go, and at first, he just thinks it’s another trip like the ones he would take with Himuro

you insist that it’s an actual date and he’s like, confused

“You’re not scared of me?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because I can take down a backboard easily, Chibi-chin.”

“You’re very gentle outside of basketball though. Besides, if I was scared, would I really go through all this effort just for it to go to waste?”

“... Why do you try for me?” He’s rubbing his neck and looking away. “Don’t you know that people who try the hardest but aren’t skilled at all annoy me the most?”

“If I annoyed you, you would’ve easily shooed me away. But you didn’t~” You definitely hit the nail on the head with this one. “So do you wanna come? It’ll be my treat, I’m serious!”

“A… date…” Murasakibara silently mouths the word, the syllables sounding completely foreign on his tongue, but you noticed what he was doing

“Oh my! That’s so cute!”

“Wh-Wha? C-Cute?! Tch, that’s… not what you call someone who towers over you and can easily crush you…”

“Still cute, though! But you’re also very handsome to me! And attractive!”

super effective against Murasakibara!

he’s unbelievably red and quite speechless, but even still, he wanted to ask the question that’s been nagging at him for a while and get it over with… how can you be so shameless and honest? that’s a mystery Murasakibara would have to solve sometime later

“Even if… I’m too tall?” (this came out way too quiet of a whisper but you heard it loud and clear, nonetheless)

“Well, I think you’re the perfect size to me! Does height really matter about whether I want to go out with you or not?” You cutely tilt your head to the side with an intentional pout while you delivered your response (you DEFINITELY know what you’re doing, you sly one)

1-HIT KO against Murasakibara!

Bonus: when Murasakibara is sitting/bent down, sometimes you draw near his face as if you’re about to kiss him, but when he expects it as such, you merely blow cold air against his temples, forehead, nose, lips… anything is fair game to you; he doesn’t know whether to tackle you to demand those kisses or stomp away like a child who didn’t get his candy

you never stop with the compliments and affection even after you both started dating; your flirtations and antics give him daily doses of serotonin

[oficmag]

Contributor Spotlight: Leandra

Now that Issue #1 is live, we at OFIC Mag are excited to shine a light on some of the amazing contributors from our inaugural issue. We hope you all love them as much as we do!

Today’s spotlight is on Leandra | @LeandraMWrites, who wrote “A Bad Lock” for Issue #1.

Tell us a bit about yourself!

Hello! I'm a Black millennial from Southern California who is currently on a "hiatus" from teaching preschool. Prior to teaching three and four year olds, I taught yoga to grown ups (somehow more difficult than being around children) and spent the rest of my free time writing fan fiction and playing video games. Currently, I'm on a roller skating kick while attempting to write the novel I've been trying to execute since 2014. 

How did you find fandom?

I found fandom through Myspace and Livejournal when I was in middle school. RPF was the shit back then and I had notebooks full of "bandom" fan fiction that I'd share with my friends during lunch and passing periods. Things were so simple, then. 

What fandom are you in now and what brought you here?

Publicly, I'm afraid I have to plead the fifth.* 🤐 No, but for real, I'm actually not super active in any fandom space right now! Though I do have many friends and acquaintances from the [redacted] fandom, who I thank every day for supporting my unhinged tweets and fan fiction. Special shout out to my best friend and beta reader for the past ten plus years for bringing me there! That space and support/positive reaction really pushed me into actively pursuing the goal of submitting my original work to magazines. (*If you are so inclined, peeking at some of my followers on Twitter and their accounts could give you a good idea of where I've been, fandom wise).

What’s your favorite book of all time and what do you love about it?

This is a hard question. I don't really have a favorite book because every time I read a book and I really enjoy it, it becomes my favorite book. Genre wise, I tend to stick to literary and I'm kind of a sucker for weird shit and sad shit and offbeat shit about all the nuances of interpersonal relationships. For the past few years, I've been reading pretty much short story collections and nothing else. But recently, I read Red At The Bone by Jacqueline Woodson and it blew my mind. Maybe I'm biased, but stories about families and difficult relationships with mothers always strike me in a very specific place. 

What projects are you working on right now?

Speaking of difficult relationships with mothers, that's one aspect of what I'm working on now. The elusive novel that may or may not take eight more years to complete if I keep working at the same pace. Other than that, I have about a dozen short story ideas at varying stages of completion. I'm a slow writer though, so each one of those will probably sit for another six months before I get around to having something that's actually readable. (Not necessarily likable to my standards, but readable at least).

What are your aspirations as a writer, big picture or small?

I sort of want to do everything. Call it delusional, but I see myself floating around everywhere in terms of writing (mostly because my interests are fleeting, but also because it's fun to do new things!) I've got a few screenplay ideas laying around, plans for multiple novels, plans for eventual short story collections. I'm a big idea sort of person. A big dreamer, I guess. As someone without an MFA and no desire to get one, I can only hope that my writing reaches as many people as possible.

If you could give one piece of advice to beginning writers, what would you tell them?

Write what you want. Don't write what you think other people will want. Oh, and don't compare your character of color's skin tone to food. 

THANK YOU FOR BEING A PART OF THE OFIC FAMILY, LEANDRA! WE’RE SO THRILLED TO SHARE YOUR WORK WITH THE WORLD.

[closedmadness]

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒

summary: you’re a northsider, but an addam — part of the famous addams family. maybe that’s why you were different from all the northsiders in riverdale high, and sweet pea found himself falling for you as soon as he knew you aren’t like the others.

pairings: sweet pea x addams!male reader

warnings → fluff・reader being weird like the addams family・mention of disturbing things・swearing・reader being sassy?

the serpents entered through the doors of riverdale high, gathering too many attentions from the students as they approached the registration table veronica lodge had set.

everyone watched as she began to welcome the serpents with open arms while you just stood in the corner leaning on your locker reading a horror book. you probably stood out from the students as your type of clothing were rather dark and punk-like, and although many people found you disturbing you didn’t care. you were an Addams after all.

you kept reading your book until cheryl and her dog reggie appeared, disturbing your reading time annoyingly.

these two are the only people you can’t stand, simply because they’re too annoying and only the sound of their voices was enough for you to have an urge to chop off your head.

sighing deeply, you kept on reading your book despite the noise cheryl and reggie were making, a bunch of insults smoothly leaving their mouth like a vomit. seriously, it’s ridiculous how they’re going against people who can easily bring them down. the serpents aren’t called a gang for nothing.

your plan was to keep ignoring them and read your book in peace, but unfortunately that wasn’t what fate wanted for you. “yo, addams. come here.” reggie called out, moving his hand to gesture for you to approach them.

a deep sigh leaves your lips when you realized they won’t let you get away from them and just closed the book, adjusting the strap of your back pack before approaching them. you stopped just beside cheryl, your eyes traveling to look at the serpents one by one. though, only one serpent truly caught your attention — the one with dark raven hair and tall height.

“don’t you think they should get the hell out from our school?” reggie said, smirking with cheryl. “surely, a threat from the one and only (y/n) addams would tell them enough that this isn’t where they belong.”

you visibly rolled your eyes; they usually bullied you and made fun of you for being weird, but now they’re seeking help from you? no, that ain’t it.

besides, you actually feel fond of the serpents despite first time meeting. the color of their clothes made you happy, only because it mostly consisted of black. black is the color of happiness for you and your family.

“serpents should be back in their own nests.” reggie spat.

however, your attention remained on the tall serpent. “is that a tattoo?” you asked curiously, ignoring reggie and pointing at the tattoo on the tall serpent’s neck that you just caught sight of after studying him for a couple of seconds.

he raised his brows in slight surprise; why do you seem interested in his tattoo? That’s a first.

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“it looks great on you.” you complimented, causing everyone to look at you in surprise. “i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo, like the tattoo of a beheaded man holding his head.” you told him still staring at the serpent tattoo on his neck. he couldn’t help but snort at your choice.

“are you fucking serious?” reggie asked you ridiculously, looking at you as if you were some kind of a crazy person.

“i’m just speaking the truth.” you said without looking at him, proceeding to raise your fingers to touch the man’s tattoo. he tensed at first, but relaxed soon in your touch.

cheryl scoffed, “you’re ridiculous.”

you dropped your hand on your side and looked at her, “whatever. i don’t mind them staying here as long as they wear black. this school lacks of darkness, the only thing i see are pastels and a ridiculous redness of your clothes.” she gasped inaudibly at that. “i like red, it’s the color of blood. but every time you wear it, it gives me the urge to chop my head off. better wear more black like this serpents.” you said, pointing to the serpents, who were now smiling at you.

she clenched her jaw, “i’d rather die than wear the same color of clothes as this ragamuffins.” and stepped closer to you threateningly.

you tilted your head to the side a bit, “that can be arranged.” the seriousness in your voice made reggie quickly pull her back, knowing full well that you’re capable of doing it.

you slashed his wrist with a knife once after all. who said you can’t arrange cheryl’s death?

“(y/n), the southside are our enemies, not us.” reggie said with a warning tone, making the serpents let out a scoff, the tall male’s being the loudest.

you rolled your eyes, “i couldn’t care less about that northside-southside shit, you’re just making up an excuse to be a dick to somebody.” the tall male smirked. “besides, i doubt they’re gonna cause a trouble. snakes don’t really bite unless provoked.” you said, shrugging.

reggie glared, “this only means you’re betraying us.”

“i was never been on your side, mantle. though, maybe it’ll be possible if you just hand me your head so I can play with it.”

“not gonna happen.” he spat.

“right, ‘cause you’re too narcisstic to hand someone your head over.” few chuckles errupted from the serpents which made you smirk.

“anyway, good luck with kicking them out. i doubt you’ll be able to find a way with your fetus brain, but hey, trying isn’t bad.” you said rather cheerfully with a mixture of sarcasm before patting him on the shoulder and walking back to your previous place to continue the book you were reading.

“who knew he was going to defend us rather than siding with you who called him?” you heard the tall serpent say, causing you to chuckle at yourself quietly and a laughter to errupt from the serpents.

after that, well, you didn’t hear the rest of their conversation because you were pretty much focused on the book you were reading. though, you felt the tall serpent looking at you every once in a while, as if waiting for their commotion to end so he could approach you. and indeed, he approached you as soon as their commotion finished.

he placed one hand on the locker beside your head, trapping you between him and the locker but not completely. “hey, goth prince.” he greeted you flirtatiously with a smirk.

you looked up from your book and smirked as soon as your eyes met with his, closing the book to focus your attention on him. his nickname for you was so ordinary yet special. at least that’s how it sounded to you.

“what do i owe you the pleasure of, serpent king?”

he raised his brows at the nickname, “you think i’m a king?”

“well, you seem a lot like a king to me because of your tall height and intimidating feature.” you shrugged. “what do you want, though? usually people would avoid me because of how weird i am.”

“i like your weirdness, though.” he said, shrugging casually. a small smile appeared on your lips. “i’m Sweet Pea.” he introduced, moving to get beside you and leaning his body on the locker.

“that’s a strangely sweet name for a tough looking serpent like you.” you chuckled softly. “(y/n) addams, but i suppose you already know that.”

“yeah.” he chuckled. “that was a first. a northsider defending the southside.”

“i didn’t defend you, i was just being honest. this feud is getting annoying, insults being thrown here and there, why don’t you just quit with the insults and kill one another to end it instead?” the last sentence came out as a statement instead of a question.

sweet pea laughed, “you sound homicidal.”

you shrugged, “i am. everybody is. the only difference is that i’m not afraid to show it while they’re hiding it and pretending to be a normal, perfect people.” sweet pea nods his head as he mentally agreed with you.

silence took over as he studied you, taking your features in. he noticed your skin looking paler than normal, but the color of your lips still had a sign of life. your (h/c) hair fell graciously on some part of your forehead, adding more good looks on your already good-looking face. your (e/c) had a sense of darkness in them, refusing to hide and mixing with a little light. sometimes, emotions can be visible in your eyes, but it’s hard to read what emotion it is unless someone focuses on them. dark clothes fits you well and he figured it’s probably the only thing that suits you perfectly, since he can’t imagine you ever wearing light clothes.

“you seem to be enjoying the view, chéri.” your amused yet loving voice snapped him out of his daze and his cheeks flushed red, blushing at the fact that he was caught and also the fact that you called him darling.

yes, he understood french, even when he doesn’t look like he does.

he cleared his throat, “yeah... uh, right, i should probably stop staring.” he stumbled over his words and you chuckled softly.

“oh, don’t be embarrassed, chéri. i do love your attention.” you stated with a smile.

sweet pea smirked at that, starting to feel more confident with himself. now that he knows you’re loving his attention, he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip away from his fingers. he had to ask you out, he has to make you his. he decided that the moment you didn’t side with reggie and cheryl.

“so, prince...” he started, slightly leaning his head closer to you. “want to go to pop’s with me?”

you raised your brows, “are you asking me out on a date?”

“what if i am?” he smirked.

“maybe i’m going, maybe not.” you shrugged and laughed after seeing the smirk on his face slowly disappear. “i’m just joking, mon cher. yes, i want to go on a date with you.” you said with a large smile that no one has ever seen before.

a grin broke out of his lips, pure joy crossing his face. “great. you alright with after school?”

nodding, “yes, of course. but...” you trailed off, making him confused. you pointed your thumb at the side where your brother and sister stood. “you have to deal with them first.”

sweet pea looked at where you pointed and saw your two siblings — wednesday and pugsley — staring at him curiously, before he groaned, but a small smile plastered his face.

he wouldn’t mind dealing with your siblings if it meant he can go on a date with you.

© prettymadness — all rights reserved. do not repost or translate without my permission. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Texas relief, @claraxbarton donated $50, and requested Dean Winchester & Bucky Barnes. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

Curfew to get back to their bunks is 2200 hours but Carlisle's still trying to prove something and so Bucky's still out, too, because hell if he's going to let some jerk from Long Island out-drink a Brooklyn boy. "Think you're gonna fall asleep soon, punk," Carlisle says, grinning wide and loose and his eyes real red, and Bucky raises his eyebrows and knocks the next shot back. He doesn't rise to the punk thing even if he wants to sock the jerk one. See, Steve, he wants to say, but of course Steve's not here. Bucky sucks the inside of his cheek, not feeling the burn anymore after this much—maybe a bad thing—but he waves to the girl leaning against the bar, signaling for another. Becky, is her name, which caused some comment from Carlisle too. She's in a too-short skirt and Bucky knows from when Carlisle got a hand on her ass that she's not too worried about keeping the hemline down, giggling as she leans over and puts the next round on the table. Carlisle pulls her in by the hand, murmuring something in her ear that Bucky can't hear over the jazz from the jukebox but that she hears perfectly well, from how she giggles and leans in, her bosom squishing up and catching Carlisle's attention just fine. Bucky sighs, sits back. Maybe the competition's over, after all. He sips at the next shot instead of downing it, actually tasting the whiskey—crap, but better than he used to be able to afford back home—and ignores how Becky's showing off the top of her stockings, the peek of white thigh above them, and looks over the top of Carlisle's head at the lawyer-type who's been sitting toward the back of the jazz club, this whole time, watching them.

Hat on the table, a beer half-sipped at his right hand. A paper pad open, at his left. Doodling something. Bucky sips at his shot again and Becky's now in Carlisle's lap, her arms around his neck. The bar's emptying out, most everyone from boot camp gone home, and Bucky's maybe got a point to prove but he's tired of this. He knocks back the rest of his shot and then reaches out and takes Carlisle's, and kicks him under the table for good measure. "Hey!" Carlisle said, distracted from sweet Becky's plump white throat, and Bucky said, "Sorry, pal, you forfeit by way of boring me to death," and gets up from the table in a scrape of the chair on the wooden floor, and Carlisle starts to stand up but of course Becky's weighing him down and she says, "Hey, slugger, you're gonna leave me all alone?" and Carlisle's distracted, soothing, long enough for Bucky to walk away, toward the back of the bar, the shot still heavy in his hand. He wants to drink it but he wants something else, too.

Jukebox, in the back. He leans over it, flipping through. Glenn Miller, Gene Autry. He wonders who put on the run of Louis Armstrong—fourth song in a row, by his count—and in the corner of his eye he can tell that the lawyer-type is watching him, from the table right there, and doing a good job of pretending he isn't.

2200 hours. Bucky checks his watch. Ticking closer. He's not the most rule-abiding guy at the best of times but he knows he's been pushing it, with his sergeant, and if he's found out to be back late again then—well, it's latrine duty for sure, if not a full ten miler with all his gear. He sucks the inside of his cheek. Worth the risk? If he's thinking of going to Europe to fistfight Hitler, then what isn't?

"Hey, pal," Bucky says, turning, with this feeling in his gut like running into a fight in a back-alley in Brooklyn—but the lawyer's up, leaving his beer half-drunk on the table, walking past him to the hall where the WCs are. Bucky licks his lips. There's a doodle left on the table, a torn-out page from the guy's pad: some weird symbol that Bucky doesn't recognize, in heavy pencil-marks, sketchy and strange. He frowns, looking over his shoulder, but the door's swinging, and he's—sure, almost. He's gotten that kind of look, before. He's given it.

The hall's empty, but there's another door at the end, frosted glass, EXIT in reversed letters, just closing. An alleyway—well, hell. Bucky's done worse in worse places but the danger of it is leaping in his throat, now. The chances that someone might see, might catch his uniform in the dark, might—but he's a real knucklehead, it turns out, and he's pushing through the door, the glass of booze still clutched in his other hand, and then: the alleyway, and whatever's waiting, and… the lawyer nowhere to be seen.

He turns around, squinting in the mostly-dark. Trash bins, and a cat racing away out toward the streetmouth. Bucky steps forward, looking—wondering if he was seeing things he wasn't meant to be seeing, wondering if his stupid heart was manufacturing things that weren't there, like always—and—there, on the other side of the wooden gate, a glow. A candle? No: a… circle, somehow drawn on the alley wall like with fire. Strange symbols that he can't make out as he gets closer. They're bright but slowly fading and he reaches out, caught by the strangeness. No heat, as his fingers hover over the coal-flames. In the center, one of the symbols looks like a star, and he licks his lips and takes a deep breath and like an absolute knucklehead presses his hand flat against it and then –

*

"Of course I'm—look, I'm the one who had to haul his ass into the trunk, okay? And he's heavy as hell. So, thanks for sending me out here solo, by the way."

Bucky keeps his eyes closed, trying to keep his breath even. He's waking up slow, not like from a bad dream but from a deep, long sleep, and he hasn't had one of those since before basic—since before Joe moved back into Ma's house—since before he slept over at Steve's, when they were younger and Steve's mother was at the hospital, and Steve was snoring on his half of the bed but Buck was—well, it hardly matters. His head feels queer, memories close to the surface and hurting. He's laying on something soft.

The man starts talking again: "Dude, for the last time—yes, Sam, I'm sure. You know how many History Channel docs I've watched about Cap and the Commandos? There's some kind of federal law that it's all they show at noon on a weekday. Check the insignias from the uniform, I'm telling you. This ain't a reenactor, it's the real deal. Plus there was that Thule sigil still burning on the alley wall." A pause. Bucky doesn't know the half of what this guy's talking about. Thule? What the hell is a history channel? "Yeah. Hey—look, he's—okay. Call me when you find something."

Another pause. There's a shift, fabric rustling, and then a creak of bedsprings. "You want to stop faking? You're not that good at it."

"Says you," Bucky says, but he opens his eyes.

A room, like a hotel or something. Nighttime, from the dim, and a lamp making a pool of light between the two beds. He's on one, laid out on his back, and on the other, when he turns his head: a man, older than him, sitting on the side of the mattress, watching him. Bucky presses his lips together, looking. Not the lawyer type who gave him the slip in the alley and not anyone he's ever seen. The man's looking right back at him, studying his face, and then his eyes go skipping down Bucky's body, and Bucky's still wearing his uniform but he feels—"What's a Thule sigil?" he says, to cover up his reaction, and the man's eyes jump right to his and he grins, like Bucky's some circus pet that just did a trick he didn't expect.

"I think we better start with 101," the man says. Generic accent. Where are they? "Name's Dean. I'm a hunter. Sorry for kidnapping you, but you were passed out in an alleyway and I wasn't sure the cops would know how to handle a guy from 1943 who's—uh, you." He scratches the corner of his jaw—hasn't shaved in a few days, apparently—and then shrugs, and nods at Bucky. "Your turn."

"James," Bucky says. He surprises himself and blinks at the man. Dean. "James Barnes. Probably AWOL from my unit at this point, depending on what time is." Another grin, but this one more natural, and Bucky decides he probably doesn't want to sock the guy one. He starts to sit up but his head—ah. Woozy, the world tilting some, and Dean reaches out quick and grabs his arm, helping pull him upright. It hurts but not like getting punched, or the one time a guy coshed him over the head in an alley fight and he woke up to Steve grimly holding his brains together. More like a hangover but he didn't even have that much to drink. When he's up, boots on the floor, Dean sits back and just looks at him again, all over, and Bucky looks down at himself too like maybe there'll be something interesting to see. It's just him, though, in his uniform a little worse for wear for eating dirt in the alley, but Dean keeps looking at him like…

Dean's spinning something in his hand—a metal rectangle with a shiny glass face. He sees Bucky looking and grimaces, and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "Sorry," he says, "not sure we're ready to do the whole Back to the Future II thing, here," and Bucky doesn't know what that means, either, but then Dean says, "Here's the thing: it's 2013," and Bucky blinks at him and says, "Bullshit."

Dean's eyebrows go high. "Wow," he says, under his breath, "okay, so it really wasn't like the newsreels." Bucky stares at him. "Um," Dean says, and then says, "Shit, Sammy doesn't know everything, hang on—" and he picks up something from the bedside table between them and points it, and then there's a flashbang of color and light and… a man, talking about the stock market, in brilliant color and as vivid as Dean sitting across from him. "Don’t tell your pals in the unit about Wolf Blitzer, I don't want to create a time paradox or something where someone doesn't get born," Dean's saying, but Bucky just sits and stares, frozen on the bed. It's like… a marvel, from that World Fair they went to, something that Stark genius would think up. He gets up, finally, and Dean's quiet, and he reaches out and touches the glass and it sparks against his fingers, static, against where there's a box that says February 15, 2013, 9:57 pm. "Yeah, it's an old one. A television. I can't remember if you have those yet or not."

"Who are you, pal?" Bucky says, not turning around. The light hurts his eyes, it's so bright.

Dean sighs, behind him. The sound from the television goes away and Bucky touches it again, shaking his head, and Dean says, "James Buchanan Barnes. You go by Bucky. You're from Brooklyn." Bucky looks over his shoulder and Dean's looking at him—looking older, looking tired. "You joined the service in 1943. You're in the 107th and, from what I can tell, you haven't shipped out to Europe yet, because you were in an alley in Georgia, instead, and you haven't—" He gestures vaguely to Bucky's side, eyes dipping, but Bucky doesn't know what he means, and he's got this vague panicky feeling stuttering up in his chest. Like being caught at something only this time he hasn't done anything wrong.

Dean stands up. They're the same height, same build. Dean's dressed like a farmer, in denim pants and a plaid shirt untucked, but he doesn't carry himself like one. A hunter, he said, and Bucky braces himself. Hunting what? The door's too far away for him to lunge and make it before Dean could get there.

"I'm not here to hurt you, man," Dean says. He laughs, lightly, shaking his head. "Like, that's the last thing I want to do. You're Bucky Barnes. I can't—tell you what that means, I guess, but… It means something. But you're not supposed to be here."

"Where's here?" Bucky says, tightly.

"Well, seventy years out of place, for one thing," Dean says. His mouth curls up on one side. "Though I gotta say, you're hot for an old guy."

Bucky takes a breath, while Dean grimaces. "I feel like I just hit on George Washington or something," he mutters, eyes dropping to his boots.

"Even if you add seventy, I'm not that old," Bucky says, after a second, and he can tell he's coloring up but he's not—men don't—he's never, even in alleyways and in dark rooms and in the one dance club he ever got brave enough to go to, one night when Steve was staying up with his mother and Bucky was so strained in the heart he thought he'd crack in half, he never—out loud, he never.

Dean looks up. Calculation. He's a looker. Even back in the unit among all the guys, Bucky could say that and not have anyone question it. Brownish hair, green eyes, freckles like a kid from a sodapop advertisement but he sure doesn't look like a kid. A man, carrying himself like one, his muscles obvious in the blue plaid, his hands square and sure. Bucky looks at them instead of into Dean's face. He's never sure but now he's very not and he doesn't want to—so there are Dean's hands, on his hips, and his knuckles, and his clean neat nails. Safer to focus on than the insanity of what Dean's telling him—the future, Bucky thinks, again, the world wheeling off its track, where somehow some man in some hotel in Georgia knows who he is, and says he's hot. Howard Stark's World of Tomorrow couldn't possibly.

He steps forward. Dean's hands lift, low, cautioning, and Bucky licks his lips and walks into them, lets Dean catch his hips. "Whoa, sailor," he says, and Bucky says, "I'm in the Army," and then he picks up his head and kisses Dean, square on the mouth, heart leaping into his throat.

Brief, hard. He grips Dean's shoulders and they're—oh, shocking, hot and firm and real in a way that he's turned over by, half-convinced that it's a dream, but all his dreams have been insubstantial as air, gossamer that slips away when he tries to hold it. There's a burst of air, Dean exhaling hard through his nose, but his lips are—soft, his chin scratching against Bucky's, and after a second of stupid clenched-eyed hope Dean's hand slides up his side and he readjusts his head, tilts, makes the kiss… softer, easier, and Bucky gasps in air he didn't realize he was holding onto and Dean's mouth follows his, closing over his bottom lip and sucking very softly, and Bucky thinks out of nowhere without his brain having any say-so Steve, and he pulls away then, jerking so hard that Dean says, "Whoa, whoa, buddy—" and Bucky almost hits him but turns away, puts his hands over his face, breathes out hard and quick and tries to ignore how his lips feel oversensitized, burning.

There's a strange metallic sound while Bucky's heart is trying to beat out of his throat. It cuts off mid-racket and Dean says, "Great timing, Sammy," full of sarcasm, and Bucky drags his hands down over his cheeks, covers his mouth. Turns around, to face his stupidity like a man. Dean's holding the metal thing to his ear, apparently listening, but his eyes are fixed to Bucky's. "Oh, just traumatizing a war hero," Dean says, and then his attention shifts and he rolls his eyes, holding the thing away from his ear with this expression so what are you gonna do?, like a guy from the deli taking a call from his henpecking wife, that Bucky snorts. Dean smiles at him, easy, and puts it back to his ear in time to respond, "Yeah," and then, "Got it, okay—look, text it to me, I left my pen in Kansas," and takes it away and holds it in front of himself—another whirling flash of color, a picture of some man, and then Dean pokes a red circle and it goes quiet.

"So," Dean says. "Sammy knows how we can send you back. Gotta do it by midnight but that's no big deal, I've got the stuff in the trunk. Scary adventure's gonna be over soon, soldier. You'll have to worry about the AWOL thing on your own."

He's poking at things on the rectangle again. His thumbs move very quickly. Bucky's watching his face, downturned, apparently casual, except that his ears are bright blushing red.

"War hero," Bucky says, finally.

Dean's cheek sucks in on one side and he looks up under his eyebrows. "Can we pretend I didn't say that?" he says. Bucky shakes his head and Dean bites the corner of his mouth. His mouth. Bucky looks into his eyes instead. "Yeah. Look, I can't—tell you this stuff. I don't know if they had sci-fi in the 40s but you just… can't tell people their future, okay? It's a bad idea. You might change something, or do something, and you'd screw up time, and then, I don't know, giant vampire robots might take over Manhattan as soon as I send you back."

"Vampire—?" Bucky says, bewildered, and Dean groans.

"Forget that, too," Dean says—fat chance, Bucky thinks—and Dean shakes his head, sighing. "Look, all this… time travel crap is new for me, too. Didn't even know it could really be a thing before a few years ago, and I didn't know regular people could just smear some stuff on a wall and speak some mumbo-jumbo and just make it happen. And so—we found this record that an unexplained event had happened, on this day in Georgia, and Sammy—that's who was just on the phone—he said, well, go check it out, and he's faking like he's not sick so I just let him send me out on the errand, and then it turned out to be you, and I'm… babbling, this is embarrassing, but you're you and I gotta say, whenever we were kids, Sammy was Superman and I was Batman but when we played Commandos he had to be Cap because I always wanted—"

Dean cuts off, and now the red's in his cheeks as well as his ears, even if Bucky doesn't know what goes there. "So. I'll send you back, but." He lifts a shoulder. "I wish I didn't have to."

He looks real sorry. Bucky leans back against the dresser, with the silent television flashing colors by his shoulder. He tries to imagine it. Boys in some hazy, magic-screen future, playing at being him, the way the kids in the neighborhood play being Flash Gordon. It's too big to fit into his head. He says, instead, "So… we win, then." Dean frowns. "The war. We win? If… me and the commandos and whoever the Captain is, we all get to be heroes. We must win."

Dean licks his lips, and looks… guilty, as all hell. "Yeah," he says, voice strange. "Yeah, you win."

Oppressive, to hear it. Not relief but responsibility. Bucky nods, takes a deep breath. "Well, all right, then," he says. He smiles at Dean, his very best. "Then I think the big hero deserves another kiss."

Dean startles, and laughs, and Bucky grins until Dean's head drops. He swallows. The future, settling onto his heart; the past, roaring up to meet it.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 15 - Net Zero Change

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what’s the truth?, 2.9k

@trevor-wilson-covington​ is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, swearing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

Alex, Reggie, Flynn and Kyle all sat at a table inside the record store while Willie took care of closing procedures, currently sweeping up around them. Flynn sipped on her soda, eyeing everyone else with a mix of piqued interest and uncertainty.

“I can let you guys stay and talk for about another half hour, but then I’ve gotta kick you out,” Kyle told the three at the table.

“Thanks,” Alex said. “We really appreciate you being so understanding.”

“Not at all,” Kyle said casually. “And Willie’s in the clear, so long as he never pulls a stunt like that again.”

“Thanks for covering for me, man,” Willie said repentantly at Kyle’s rightfully miffed tone.

“I also covered the cost for that jacket, so you owe me for that.”

Alex looked at him, still unable to wrap what had just happened around his head. Climbing somewhere high and screaming felt like an ideal thing to do right then. He wasn’t angry - at least, he didn’t think so - but he still felt like a bottle of Coke that someone had just shaken and dropped a Mento into. His punching bag was already being worn down enough, but since he didn’t have his drums at home it had been a lifesaver recently.

There was Willie, right in front of him, like a miracle. He was so wonderfully unaware of everything, and there was no doubt he hadn’t forgotten Alex. It brought a strange sense of euphoria that battled everything else that had kept his mind dark for so long. He’d used to imagine running into Willie, even for a while after Caleb said he was gone, and thought he’d be the one to catch Willie off guard and rush toward him with joy. Mostly, he’d wanted to knock Willie off his board as slight payback for that one time, but also because it would’ve been satisfying to surprise him for once.

Kyle had gotten up from the table and joined Willie in closing up the store.

“So, you guys all know each other, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Flynn exclaimed. “And I’d like to think that it’s all thanks to me,” she added smugly.

“How so?” Reggie asked in curiosity.

“I helped Willie get into Julie’s concert in Vegas,” she said. “And I’m the reason you two stuck around here.”

Alex looked at her in surprise. Without Flynn, he imagined going with Willie to the Stratosphere or anything else that night wouldn’t have happened. He owed her a serious favor; he wasn’t going to forget that.

“Are you sure you don’t have, like, magic powers or something?” Reggie asked.

Flynn only smiled and quietly sipped her soda again, keeping the mystique for herself.

As Willie disappeared into the kitchen to clean there, Alex looked at Reggie.

“So, do you have as many questions as I do?” he asked.

“Yeah, man,” Reggie said, peeking back toward the kitchen door. “I mean, does Caleb not know?”

“For someone out of the loop,” Flynn butted in. “What’s going on?”

Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took in a deep breath. “So you know how we got signed?”

Flynn nodded. “Uh huh. And congratulations, by the way.”

Alex merely shrugged in acknowledgement.

“Well, the guy who owns the label used to be Willie’s caretaker.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Reggie muttered. Alex suddenly felt a little guilty for missing that detail when talking with the guys.

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to mention it,” he apologized. “Anyway, the day that we signed on, Caleb personally told me that Willie had died in a fire.”

Flynn stared in disbelief.

“Wow,” she said. “That’s fishy.”

“No kidding,” Reggie commented. “But why would he do that? Caleb’s been nothing but good to us.”

“You guys should be careful. He was Willie’s guardian? If his story is that far off, I’d watch out.”

Peering over toward the kitchen, Alex couldn’t get a view of Willie at all. He was dying to hear his side of things.

“I guess we’ll have to see. Flynn, how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I was just gonna take the bus.”

“With your equipment?” he said, already worried. It was a lot for her to be lugging around, whether she could carry it alone or not. “Flynn, let us get you a taxi.”

She looked at him, and he expected her to protest and say she could handle herself. To his surprise, she simply huffed.

“You’re right. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, and one of us could go with you to make sure you get home safe.”

“I’ll go,” Reggie volunteered. He glanced at Alex and it was clear he was giving him an opportunity.

“Thanks Reggie,” Flynn said. “You guys have gotta keep me updated with everything going on, though. I smell drama. A lot of it.” She finished the last few gulps of her soda and stood up to grab her gear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Reggie murmured to Alex, patting him as he rose to help her out.

“See you.”

As he watched them make their way outside, Alex sighed.

“So, Vegas, huh?” Kyle said as he reentered the room, making him jump.

“Uh, yeah,” Alex replied warily. This guy seemed fairly nice, but he could never be too careful about how much he told strangers. He watched him dust the shelves, trying to relax in his seat.

“Willie doesn’t talk about it much, so I’m kinda surprised he had such a reaction tonight. I got the idea he hated the place.”

Puzzled, Alex didn’t respond immediately. He wondered what could’ve happened.

“Well, I’m sure he has his reasons. But when I met him we had a pretty good time.”

“Hmm,” was all that Kyle said as he looked into space thoughtfully before moving on to locking things up.

Alex realized then that he was the only customer left in the store and he’d simply let his friends leave him. His head was certainly not on straight. The time was nearly midnight, and the options of transportation and his experiences with them only dialed up his anxiety. Busses were just weird because everyone could watch him, taxis were expensive and he’d given most of his cash to Reggie, and the chances of having Bobby pick him up were very low.

“Hey,” Willie was standing over him, skateboard in hand. Alex looked up, startled once again, but the feeling of Willie’s hand on his shoulder softened it.

“Hey.”

“Where did Reggie go?”

“Oh,” Alex started. “He’s making sure Flynn gets home safe.”

Nodding, Willie glanced outside.

“What about you?”

Alex rose with a sigh.

“I’ll figure something out.”

They left the store and slowly walked to the corner. Willie still gripped his board as he gazed up at the red hand on the opposite side of the street.

“Do you...wanna walk with me to my place?” he asked Alex. “‘Cuz you look like you want to talk. Then we can find you a way home.”

Sticking his tongue in his cheek, Alex eyed him thoughtfully. It was almost like they hadn’t just spent four months apart - Willie could read him like a book.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Unfortunately, that made him stuff his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. He’d let himself take Willie’s hand before and have high hopes because he’d let himself ignore reality back then. Even when the guy who he admittedly still had a crush on was back from the dead, Alex didn’t want to tempt fate again. As they both crossed the street, he felt himself hunch inward just as he had earlier with Reggie.

“So, I’m guessing it’s a little weird to see me, since you thought I was a goner and everything,” Willie started nervously.

“Dead,” Alex said, looking at him seriously. “You were dead.”

Willie slowed his pace and sucked in a breath.

“Yeah.”

For a few yards they didn’t speak. Something ate at Alex’s insides, and he couldn’t put a finger on it. Change had always been his worst enemy, but this was a good change. Willie was alive, then he was dead, and now he was back. It should’ve been like net zero change, cancelled out like math. He should be fine about this, right? Why was he not fine?

“Alex, are you...are you mad?” Willie dared to ask.

He paused in his tracks, arms slacking against his sides. Looking over at Willie, then down at the sidewalk again, he nodded.

“Yeah, actually.” Immediately the eating feeling worsened. “I don’t know why that is, but you’re right. I am kinda mad.”

Willie furrowed his brow, but remained quiet for a minute as they continued walking.

“Are you mad at me?” he wondered aloud, finally.

“Maybe?” Alex said, feeling the temperature in his veins rise the more he went on. “That sounds silly, I know, because it wasn’t you who lied to me and put me through absolute agony for weeks on end. You were just the person I thought was dead and so every time I thought about you, it hurt. I don’t even know why it hurt so much. It’s not supposed to hurt when you’re still practically a stranger to me. All I know is that we kind of liked each other and then I thought I’d never find out anything else. I mean, we only knew each other for one day. One fucking day. That was it!”

Alex saw Wilie flinch at the unexpected use of language. A little too late, he realized he should’ve been more gentle. While it was true that he needed to finally release more than just self-pity, it wasn’t worth making Willie miserable for it.

“Wow,” Willie murmured. It already sounded more wounded than Alex could bear.

“That was harsh; I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

He looked over at Willie to be sure he hadn’t done too much damage already.

“I can’t imagine how awful that was,” Willie said simply.

The pressure that had heated up his veins rapidly began to cool down as Alex realized he was handling this all wrong. He’d momentarily lost control and already saw its potential for harm.

“It’s not you I’m mad at. It’s Caleb.”

“That makes two of us,” Willie told him. “You want to know what really happened?”

“I want to know everything.”

They continued walking along as Willie seemed to try summing up the past few months properly in his mind.

“I don’t know exactly where to start,” he said.

“Well, why don’t you start where we left off?” Alex suggested. It was only fitting that one of them was walking the other home, just like they’d been doing the last time they’d seen each other. There was a funny sense of poetry to it.

“Okay,” Willie began. “I guess what really started it was when we were up on the Stratosphere, remember?”

“Uh huh.”

“I told you that I have amnesia because I had a memory come back.”

“Right, about your dad.”

“You remember this really well,” Willie commented. Alex bowed his head, feeling his lip curl the tiniest bit. “Anyway, I started drawing the things I remembered. And I mean, I drew every detail I could. Even though back then it was just the one about my dad and then the first time that I ran away from Caleb - ”

“Wait, what?” Alex blurted.

Willie cocked his head to the side as he tried to keep the narrative easy to follow.

“Oh yeah that was weird, I had this dream where everything was backwards and it happened like every night and it took me forever to figure out that it was a memory. Anyway, the reason I have amnesia right now? I was trying to run from Caleb because he was a total a-hole and then I got hit in the head!”

Alex looked at his casual expression with mild horror.

“That’s a lot to process,” he said slowly.

“Yeah, I guess he was putting on a face after that, because he didn’t really get nasty until right before I left him for good.”

By the time Willie finished dishing everything to Alex, they had been standing by his front door for a solid ten minutes. Alex could only stand there and let everything turn over in his mind like a taffy pull. Moreover, a pit of dread was forming in his stomach at the same time as a spark of joy grew in his chest.

“So...Harrison Ford?” he said.

Willie smiled. “Much cooler than Han Solo.”

“I still can’t believe you were literally planning to skate your way here. Even I would’ve ruled that out after a minute.”

Lifting a hand defensively, Willie opened his mouth but couldn’t find words.

“I - I will never live that down,” he chuckled.

Alex chuckled in turn. “No.”

For a moment he just looked at Willie. It was the first time that night where his vision wasn’t clouded with questions or overwrought with mixed emotions. This time, it was just as he’d seen him that first moment when they’d sat across from each other at the diner. That was ages ago, but it didn’t seem to have dimmed or faded one bit in Alex’s memory. Here, he was just Willie. It was so nice to see that again.

“What made you come to LA?” he asked. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. 

“You did.” Willie looked right into his eyes as he said it.

The words were plain and honest. Something swelled in Alex’s chest as he heard them. If anyone else had said that - the guys, Julie, even his sister Abby - he would’ve doubted it a little. That was the awful thing with his anxiety is that it immediately twisted everyone’s words into betrayal. Not Willie’s, though.

“Why me?”

Willie got thoughtful, eyes unfocused for a moment.

“I don’t know. I’d do anything for you,” he said, gazing back up at Alex again.

Alex shifted his weight.

“Because I helped you start regaining memories, right?”

It made sense that if he’d been in that position, the person who’d been with him in those moments would mean a great deal to him, too.

“No,” Willie said. “Just ‘cuz. I still like you.”

Alex blinked and his mind emptied of all thought - a feat he’d never imagined occurring. Soon he found himself caught looking into those brown eyes, and instead of wanting to throw in a line, he wished he could plant himself there and spread roots. If it were up to him, he had no desire to go back home and he would just stay happy where he was.

It took a while to realize that he’d slowly begun to lean forward, lips parted as he gazed down at Willie’s mouth. Their noses were just barely not touching, and they hung in the balance waiting for the other to cross that threshold. Willie looked vaguely hypnotized, if not a little indecisive. His thoughts finally caught up to his actions, and once Alex saw what he was doing he turned away.

Dammit, how could you mess that up, Alex? he berated himself. He was already so out of focus and not thinking about the consequences of his actions; he couldn’t go around treating Willie like something else to dump his turmoil upon. Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture. Willie nervously ran a hand through his hair, visibly confused.

“So....” Alex began awkwardly. “You have your own place?”

Willie nodded, not looking him in the eyes anymore.

“Yeah, it’s kinda nice,” he said plainly. “You’ll have to check it out one of these days. You could see Sheldon, too.”

“Yes,” Alex said quickly. “Yes, I would totally be down to come see you and Sheldon. That would be great.”

He hated that the natural cadence in his voice was so sarcastic sometimes. Right now, it didn’t sound genuine at all and he desperately wanted to convey how much he meant every word.

“Bet you’re sort of busy with the band and school and all, though,” Willie said, clearly a little despondent. Alex really wanted to go back and fix the moment they’d had before. He wasn’t making it any better.

“Well, I’m free all next Saturday. You’re not working, are you?”

“I can arrange things with Kyle to get covered. I’m usually on his good side and he doesn’t stay mad for long, so I’m not worried.”

“That’s good.” A pause. “So it’s okay if I come on Saturday?”

“Sure, sure,” Willie rushed to say. “I’m totally down for that. Uh...I just remembered that we’ve gotta get you back home. Did you know how you were gonna do that?”

“Uh yeah, I was gonna just catch the bus,” Alex said, entirely impromptu. After embarrassing himself so badly with Willie, he could override any fears about using public transportation. All he wanted to do was lift his hood over his head and pull the strings so it closed over his face.

“Got it,” Willie replied.

“But I’ll be excited to see you next Saturday,” Alex added. He saw Willie’s eyes light up a little and it made him smile in relief as he began stepping away from Willie’s door. Biting his lip in his usual cute manner, Willie nodded at him.

“See you then.”

Alex exhaled in excitement as he made his way up the steps to the street, barely able to take his eyes off Willie. Only when he couldn’t see him anymore did he force himself to turn away.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Infatuation P8

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: a lying bitch and a writer who hates writing warnings because they spoil what’s to come

Notes: James Elkins, a fairly well known art historian, once wrote “Love would be the state in which I hunt a hunter or fall prey to prey” (The Object Stares Back, 1996). This is a quote I reflected on a lot while writing this series, though I’d still say they dont feel connected. I had to read the book for class so y’all have to deal with my bs

I barely managed to sleep last night.

I’m so incredibly tired. My eyes are heavy and I’m having trouble keeping my focus.

Snap.

Love is in front of me, snapping her fingers. I’ll give her my attention soon, but I’m caught in a thought.

That car from last night. I wonder who it was... I think I’ve seen that specific car before. That or the lack of sleep is getting to me and I’m seeing things.

Snap.

I blink repeatedly and then set my sights straight onto Love’s face.

“We open soon. Are you alright? You’re really out of it.” Love asks.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” I smile reassuringly. ”I’ve just been having trouble sleeping.”

Love runs a finger across my forehead. It tingles. She searches my sleep deprived eyes for a moment.

“I understand.” Love smiles back, her worry still woven in there. “How about you come sleep at my place tonight?”

That sounds like a great idea. How long has it been since we slept together? Far too long.

“Sounds like a plan.” I lean forward and place a gentle kiss onto her lips. She shares the same sentiment and we reluctantly part ways a moment later.

Love is still on my mind as I pack up last week’s display. Ah, how I yearn to entangle myself with her. I’m... beginning to fantasize while noting down the amount of unsold copies of the display we have left. I feel weird. Like, a little bothered, maybe. Not because fantasizing about your girlfriend in the open while at work is inappropriate but... I mean, it’s not professional, but that’s not the point. What I’m trying to say is... you’re there. You’re on my mind too— somehow.

In my deepest thoughts, you’re there... sandwiched between us. She loves you so much, you know that? You’re good for her too— you can be good for us.

The familiar jingle I’ve heard oh so many times takes me out of my thoughts. The world around me clears up and I eagerly look around.

You’re not here. I think I’m starting to hear things.

I finally shake you from my mind and store the boxes in storage.

~

Love prepared a delicious meal, as no surprise to anyone. We spent most of the evening talking. Mostly about useless things, like the next colour for the bathroom. Personally, I favour a blue tone. Love seems to want something black and white.

“Zebra print?” I say.

“No! That would actually look awful!” She laughs and almost spills her drink in the process.

“Hey, watch it! I like this shirt.”

“Can I tell you something?” She asks.

“Yeah, whatever you’d like.” I answer, sitting up to listen carefully.

She points to my chest and speaks. “I really don’t like that shirt.”

“I’m hurt.” I feign sadness and she sips her drink.

“—No no, I mean-“ Love gulps before continuing with a softer tone. “-maybe you should take it off?” She raises her eyebrows and I catch on.

“Ooh. Yeah- yeah, sure.” I smile widely and she sets down her drink. Love leans in and kisses me gently, something sweet still on her lips. I can feel my brain already melting as I lean forward as well.

rrRRING.

It’s her phone. Love seems reluctant in her next kiss. I pull her in more, my hands snake themselves around her back.

rrrRRRING.

Now she completely pulls away from me, pushing me aside as she grabs for her phone.

“I’m sorry— it might be Forty.” She pleas as she accepts the incoming call. Again with Forty, huh? He’s starting to seem like more trouble than he’s worth.

“Hey, Y/N.”

I perk up at the name, but I pretend my attention is elsewhere. I pick up our empty plates. I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I see that Love is listening intently.

As I make my way to the kitchen, Love speaks.

“But why? You just came back.”

I quickly and quietly set the plates down and walk back to the living room. I stand by the archway and continue to listen. It doesn’t sound good.

“You can’t. Y/N-“ She’s desperate and I can only imagine what you’re saying on the other end.

Love takes her phone away from her ear and looks at it. “Are you kidding me?” She mumbles before tossing it onto the floor.

“What happened?” I ask, walking into the room and standing by her side.

She reluctantly answers, a pained expression crossing her face. “Y/N. She’s leaving again.”

“Did she tell you why?” I ask quickly, sounding a little too interested.

“No, she didn’t tell me why.” Love leans forward so I can’t see her face, but I can tell in her voice that she’s holding back tears.

“Love,” I sit next to her and place my hand on her back. “It’s alright.”

“No, Will. It’s not alright.” She squeezes her stomach. “I worked so hard to make her comfortable. I’m gonna sound crazy but I thought I finally had her back.” Love quickly places her hand over her mouth in a worrying motion.

“Let me get you some water, okay?” I say, noticing her trembling state. She looks like she’s either going to be sick or start crying.

“I’m going to her apartment.” Love states before attempting to get up. I latch onto her arm and pull her back down onto the sofa.

I speak quickly, grabbing her half empty drink and standing up. “I’ll go. You look like you might throw up. How many drinks have you had?”

“I don’t know... ugh, fine.” She replies meekly and I leave for the kitchen.

Y/N, I thought you were better than this. This is like breaking up over a text, it’s feral. You even hung up on her when she wanted answers. What has you so scared?

Well... You’re not allowed to run from your problems anymore.

~

After bringing Love a glass of water and making sure she made it to her bed, I let her know I’d take care of it.

Love told me to talk you down from this. Apparently, you sounded very frantic in the call.

I’m parked in my car, across the street from where you’re packing up. I can see it in your lit window. You’re moving quickly.

I fix my cap on my head and continue to watch as you disappear from view.

Soon, your light gets turned off. My queue. I step out of the car and wait for you to exit the building.

When I see you open the door, step out with your luggage, and turn to lock up again, I jog across the street.

“Y/N-“

“AH!” You turn around quickly, knees glued together and almost causing you to topple down the steps. “Oh, gosh. You s-scared me.” You fumble with your keys and quickly turn to lock the door.

“Sorry, uhh... what’s the luggage for?” I hum casually.

“I-I’m going on a-a trip. A s-small one.” You feign a smile and scoot passed me. You’re still a liar. A horrible one too.

“Thats not what you told Love.” I say, following behind you.

You’re not saying anything anymore, just rolling your stupid luggage. It doesn’t even have a bell on it.

You’re being childish right now.

“Why would you lie?” I say.

You spin yourself around quickly. “Why would YOU lie?”

Oh.

Oooh. I get it.

We stare into each other’s eyes for a bit. I’m not moving, but you’re shaking like a leaf. You know, and I can tell you regret saying anything.

You turn around again to continue walking at your ridiculously fast pace but— I’m not sure what came over me... I grabbed your forearm and yanked you back. You let out a squeak and throw your luggage into my knee, knocking me off balance for a moment.

I hear an engine start and quickly spot two red lights. It’s a car. A black car, to be more exact.

Fucking perfect.

You try to bolt away, but I don’t let go and instead, pull you into me. I... I don’t know why I’m not letting go. I’m making this worse.

You’re already fully sobbing, it’s actually pretty loud, and you’re trying to hit me. I grab hold of your nose and cover your mouth, pulling you closer into my chest the more you struggled and kicked the air. Your dainty hands are trying to pry my arms away, but you’re growing weak. My focus, however... is on the car.

It pulls out of its parking spot and doesn’t waste any time driving off. Who the hell is that? Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

The lack of oxygen is finally getting to you. You’re letting out muffled screams now, further wasting whatever energy you have left.

I rest my head into the crook of your neck and you finally begin to settle down. I’m tense, angry. I’d like to think it isn’t your fault, but I have a feeling you know who was in that car.

I’m now realizing, as you start to go limp in my hold, I’ve probably made better choices in the past.

[theatreslave]

Recovery Ch 2

Second Chapter of my Manifest Fic Jared/Drea Fic

By the end of their first week as partners, Jared and Drea had gotten into an easy routine. Jared, like the lieutenant he is, would arrive at the precinct first. He would drop off a cup of coffee at Drea’s desk and then head over to his own. Drea would arrive a half hour later with some breakfast for the both of them, some days she would make something and other days she would grab something nearby.

Then they both would both be at their desks looking over files until one or the other needed some type of consultation. It was surprisingly easy. The banter was fast and snarky which fit their dynamic. When they were out in the field, Drea didn’t mind letting Jared take the lead. He was an amazing detective and seeing him in action first hand was a treat for her. Things had been pretty standard since Michaela left, thankfully no 828er drama or anything from the Xers. Just your run of the mill robberies, domestics, and crimes of passion.

Jared had been over to Drea’s two more times since that first night. Once to cook for her to prove that he wasn’t a terrible cook after a disagreement over tastes in pizza, long story. The next time was to watch a horror movie that Drea insisted that Jared wouldn’t be able to get through; he didn’t. At least not without turning all the lights on and some cuddles from Mimi.

Jared was surprised by how easy it was to get along with Drea without Michaela around. He had thought it might be awkward without a common denominator, but it was anything but. Drea was charming. As simple as that. She was always smiling, playful, and endlessly curious. Opinionated and stubborn. It made for some hilarious conversations and interesting bets between them. But she was also an incredibly competent detective. He had seen her put her rich upbringing to use, from finding connections to get them into exclusive illegal online auctions, to clearance for an emergency helicopter landing on private property. She could slip from one persona to the next seamlessly, happy-go-lucky rookie to experienced and connected detective. And Jared liked her. Not like that. But he enjoyed her company and was honestly happy to call her his friend.

Drea on the other hand was surprised to learn that Jared really did have a life outside of his Michaela obsession and his romantic escapades. He took hikes on his own and knew all the trails around the greater New York area. He loved cooking and playing cards. He was also as charming as could be. She knew he was handsome, everybody did. When she had started with the precinct she noticed, but he was married back then so she didn’t bat an eye. But having his attention on her, his focus, occasionally made her blush. Not that she liked him like that. She was actually very happy to call him a friend. Jared didn’t seem to mind her invites or challenges and that was all the encouragement she needed.

It was the end of a long Saturday that had them running around in search of a kidnapped child. Thankfully the culprit had a soul and only wanted the car. They dropped the kid off in a park and his parents’ stranger danger training had kicked in and he had run into a school that happened to have after school programs. The relief that had travelled through everyone in search of this child was palpable. By dumb luck a rookie had stumbled upon the stolen vehicle on the way home in Queens. The culprit had been arrested, the parents and child reunited, and all was well.

Jared was in a jovial mood after the day’s successes. He was perched on the corner of Drea’s desk urging her to hurry up with the paperwork for the day so they could grab dinner, “Come on Mikami, you can type faster than that.”

Before Drea could respond her cell phone rang. Recognizing the name she swept it up and shushed Jared, “Hi Mom.”

Jared smirked and decided to have a little fun. He made his way around the desk to stand behind her. Speaking louder than normal he said, “Drea, baby, hurry up, I wanna take you out.”

Drea smacked his arm hard, sending him into a fit of laughter. The few officers still at the precinct just ignored the two’s antics, a familiar sight already. “No Mom, that was nothing. Just my partner messing with me. Yeah, yeah don’t worry about it.”

Jared proceeded to poke her lightly but quickly in the side making her yelp. Before he could run, Drea was up, had tripped him, and had him in a headlock. Jared sputtered, turning red with amusement and embarrassment at his new position.

“Oh nothing Ma, I just stubbed my toe. Yes I will be careful. Don’t listen to him Mom, you know I have coworkers over sometimes. It’s nothing weird.” Drea squeezed a bit tighter when Jared tried to pry her arm away. He finally stopped struggling when he realized how strong she really was. “I know Mom, but do I have to? I told you I could take care of it. Mom, please? Fine, but I’m bringing my partner with me. Ok bye.”

Drea ended the call then proceeded to give Jared a noogie, “Hey watch the hair!”

“You idiot! You’re lucky my mom is hard of hearing or she would have had a heart attack. I’ve already had to convince her that you coming over was nothing. She’s already on my ass about being paired with ‘unseemly men’ all the time.” Drea said finally relinquishing her hold on Jared.

“Unseemly?” Jared said, loosening his tie, “Was the head lock really necessary?”

Drea smacked him again, “Grab your stuff and go home and shower and get into a new suit. I will pick you up in an hour and you are coming with me to this fundraiser my cousin is throwing.”

“Oh no no no, you are not dragging me along to one of your rich people functions,” Jared insisted.

“There will be free gourmet food and I will buy you those new Nike’s when they get released next week.” Drea bargained.

Jared held her gaze for a long moment then finally caved, “Deal.”

“Ok then I will see you in a little over an hour. Bye!” Drea said before hurriedly packing her things and then rushing out the door.

Jared stood in shock, wondering exactly what he got himself into, before he headed out the same way.

He didn’t want to look like a complete fool so he had opted for his higher end deep navy suit and brown shoes and belt. Jared’s shirt was a light yellow and his tie matched with a deep blue and yellow pattern, perfect for spring. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and nodded his head. Not too shabby considering it was last minute. Honestly he probably should have asked Drea what exactly to wear. His phone chimed telling him that Drea was waiting outside for him.

Drea was waiting in her car, waving for him to hop in. Once he was buckled in he finally had a chance to take a look at Drea all dressed up. She was wearing a soft blue lace dress that reached her knees. It had cap sleeves and a rounded neckline. Her hair fell in soft waves and was longer, down to mid-back.

“Are you wearing extensions?” Jared finally breathed out.

“Yea, my mom likes it better when I have longer hair,” Drea replied, focusing on the road.

Jared couldn’t stop himself and reached out to play with an errant curly, “I really like it.”

Drea turned to him, surprised, “Don’t go falling for me now, Vasquez.”

Jared just laughed, “Not falling. Just appreciating that my usually childish partner can actually look like a beautiful grown woman.”

“You clean up pretty great too. We even match a little,” Drea glanced at him with a smile, “ Anyway, I just need you to mingle with me and protect me from my dad’s creepy business partners and hopefully deter my mum from trying to introduce me to any of their sons.”

“And your mom will stop because I’m around?” Jared asked.

“She assumes that I’m dating any man I talk to, no matter what I say otherwise. Bringing you to a function will get rumors going and the damage control will get her off my back. Oh and don’t take any bribes from her or her butlers,” Drea rambled.

“So I’m your date?” Jared said with a smirk.

“Technically, so don’t go flirting with anyone or my mother might have you shipped off somewhere. She might not like me “dating” but she will raise hell if anyone cheats on me,” Drea warned.

Jared couldn’t help but laugh, “This might actually be fun. How much PDA would freak out your hoity toity rich friends?”

“They barely shake hands, let alone hug. But don’t get any ideas,“ Drea managed to glare at Jared who just raised his hands in defeat.

They approached a large venue with a sprawling lawn and a circular valet drop off. Jared was distracted by the sheer size of the place and the extravagant cars that were being valeted off to a hidden parking lot. “Hey, Drea?”

Jared turned to his partner only to see her handing her keys off to a valet boy. It was then that he noticed her demure lace dress was actually backless, showing off her clear skin and an intricate moon phase tattoo down her spinal column. Just like her hair, he felt his fingers twitch, wanting to touch the tattoo. But she turned. “Are you nervous? You don’t have to be. I promise they are mostly nice, just a bit snooty. Just go with the flow, eat the food, and then I can take you home.”

“Your place or mine?” Jared said absentmindedly, the image of her bareback glued to his sight.

Drea just smacked his shoulder and then started walking into the venue. Jared shook his head and then followed her up the stairs and between the columns of marble. He cursed under his breath. Seeing her looking so different from her rather tomboy-esque persona at work was having an odd effect on him. He took a deep breath. She’s just a friend. A good friend. Don’t mess this up.

Jared stood next to Drea at the entrance of a ballroom. There were quite a few people making small talk, sitting at various tables, and drinking champagne. Jared took Drea’s hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. She seemed nervous but she latched onto his arm, turned to him and smiled, then pulled him along.

A few people waved at her, some greeted her as she walked by, but thankfully no one stopped them or asked her about her date. The tables seemed to be assigned and soon Drea stopped in front of a round table that already had a severe looking older asian woman and a softer looking older asian man seated.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad.” Drea said in greeting. The two elders stood up, hugging their daughter and sneaking glances at Jared, “This is my partner, Lieutenant Jared Vasquez.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jared offered his hand for a shake but the two just nodded their heads.

“I am Eileen Tamaki and this is my husband, Akimitsu Tamaki.” Eileen said, looking at Jared up and down. Akimitsu who had been staring intently finally smiled then reached out a hand to shake Jared’s. Jared didn’t know what was going on but shook his hand and even bowed a little not wanting to be rude, despite the earlier rejection.

“I have seen you on the news Lieutenant. I knew you were familiar, it took me a moment to place you. You have solved many cases in this city of ours, it is my pleasure to meet you. It makes me feel relieved to have you working with my daughter in such a dangerous field,“ Akimitsu praised, his eyes glowing with kindness.

“It’s my pleasure, sir. Your daughter is a great detective. I can always rely on her.” Jared replied sincerely.

“Come and sit, before the others arrive,” Her father gestured to the table. The size and roundness of the table caused Jared and Drea to sit across from her parents so it would be easier to talk. Eileen still had a stoniness to her visage while Akimitsu was already making small talk.

“Drea didn’t you have anything else to wear?” Eileen finally chimed in hushed tones.

“Eileen, leave her alone. She’s a grown woman, she can wear what she wants.” Akimitsu interrupted. “She looks lovely and I’m sure Jared agrees with me.”

“She looks beautiful,” Jared agreed.

Drea blushed at their defense, not noticing the very different looks her parents were sending Jared’s way. Before anything more could be said, two women who looked around Drea’s age came up to the table greeting everyone. The taller redhead was named Katrina, and her blonde friend was named Melody. Drea greeted them warmly as they took seats next to her. Before Jared could be introduced, two younger men joined the table as well. Katrina’s husband, Caleb, and Melody’s fiance, Ivan.

“The youth have arrived my dear, it is time we move to our own table now that we have seen Drea,” Akimitsu said as he stood up, offering his hand to his wife.

“I knew you weren’t assigned to sit with me, Uncle Rico would have been jealous,” Drea said as she waved to her parents. Eileen and Akimitsu said their farewells, nodding to Jared, before making their way across the ballroom.

“So Drea, introduce us,” Katrina giggled, gesturing towards Jared. Drea smiled awkwardly as the rest of the table made noises of agreement.

Jared decided to grant her some mercy and introduced himself, “I’m Jared Vasquez, Drea’s partner. It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Drea! Where have you been hiding him?” Melody asked excitedly, “If I didn’t have Ivan around I would have had to steal Jared away.”

Jared just threw an arm around Drea’s shoulders, “I’m definitely not that easy to steal away.”

Ivan chuckled, “I don’t know, Jared, she managed to pull me away from Major League baseball, she’s incredibly convincing. Still not sure if it was worth it though.”

“Hey!” Melody retorted, flicking water at her fiance, “That’s why you’re gonna marry me!”

“I know, what am I thinking,” Ivan faked a look of regret before smiling, “Don’t go flirting with Drea’s man, Mel, it isn’t me you’ll have to worry about.”

“Yeah Mel, you know how protective Drea is. She would literally fight you if you touch her man, remember, Isaac?” Katrina said.

“Jared’s not my man, he's just my partner. I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Drea said, letting out a short laugh.

“Dumping a glass of wine on Mel’s white Versace gown because she flirted with your man at her birthday party was a bit too dramatic to be forgettable,” Caleb finally joined the conversation, “We all know that Mel’s a flirt, Drea, but you were so far up that guys ass.”

“Don’t remind me. Sorry, about that again Mel. Really.” Drea said looking embarrassed.

“It’s old news Drea, no worries. You ended up getting the short end of the stick on that one,” Mel said looking sympathetic.

“Hey, hey, no walking down ‘bad memory lane.’ Drea is safe and sound with a hottie on her arm, and looking sexy as ever. Don’t think I didn’t notice the open back on that dress,” Katrina interrupted, expertly changing the subject.

Jared found himself lost in thought as they started talking about outfits and some fashion show. He was curious about Isaac. Who was he and why was he such a sore spot? He was so lost in thought he didn’t realize that he was absentmindedly playing with Drea’s hair.

Melody leaned in to whisper into Drea’s ear,”He’s cute Drea, and he seems to really like you.”

“It’s not like that, he’s just my partner at work, I brought him so Mom wouldn’t try to introduce me to anyone tonight,” Drea whispered back.

“I don’t know, Drea, he seems very affectionate. Act or not, he’s comfortable around you, and you are with him. Maybe it’s a game right now but keep an open mind. I think he would be good for you,” Melody said with a smile.

Two more men joined the table. A slightly older man who greeted Drea warmly. Apparently her cousin Julian, the one putting on the fundraiser. The last was a tall handsome Korean man named Kevin who seemed to immediately dislike Jared and his proximity to Drea. Jared made a point to lean closer to Drea, feeling oddly protective seeing the way the man eyed her hungrily.

“Julian, Kevin, this is my partner, Jared Vasquez, he’s helping me deter mom from throwing me to the wolves,” Drea said.

“He’s definitely an upgrade from the last man you introduced us to, Drea,” Julian joked before reaching out to shake Jared’s hand, “Nice to meet you, man. Be careful with the elder Mikami. She’s been trying to get Drea married off for years. Every event I throw inadvertently gets turned into a speed dating event for Drea. I’m happy she found a friend willing to put up with it to spare her some embarrassment.”

“My pleasure, Drea’s a great partner,” Jared said, throwing a fond smile her way.

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin said stiffly as he shook Jared’s hand. He then turned to Drea, “If you needed a date you could have asked me Drea.”

“Oh stop it Kevin, you’re one of the ones that Mrs. Mikami would force Drea to marry. You know Drea, she wants a ‘normal guy’,” Katrina said bluntly.

“Guys, just stop. I’m not getting married anytime soon to anyone,” Drea said with a hint of frustration, “Can we talk about Mel and Ivan finally getting engaged after 7 years.”

Julian and Kevin took the last two seats at the table across from Jared and Drea. The group started talking jovially about Melody and Ivan’s upcoming nuptials. The dinner was served and it was one of the most delicious meals that he had had in a while. It was nice seeing Drea loosen up and talk with friends he had known since she was a child.

Eventually, Julian left the table to host the event. It was pretty standard, the tickets and donations from all these rich people would go to some charity for underprivileged kids in the city. It devolved from there into a party with a band playing instrumental music. Things were going incredibly smooth until Jared decided to go to the restroom.

The two couples had gone off to the dancefloor, Julian was off mingling, and that left Kevin and Drea. Kevin immediately took a seat next to Drea, taking her hand and leaning in close so she could hear him speak.

“Drea, you look so beautiful tonight. When will you give me a chance?” Kevin asked, gripping her hand tightly.

“Kevin, stop joking around,” Drea shrugged him off, removing her hand from his grasp to reach for her wine glass.

Kevin grabbed her hand again and leaned in so that his lips were brushing her ear with each word, “Drea, I’m not joking. You told me to wait. After everything with Isaac you needed time to heal. So I gave you that time. It’s been five years, Drea. I’m the CEO of my family’s company. Your father and I are business partners. Your mother has given her blessing. I expected to come here and finally confess again now that you’ve let off some steam with this rebellion. But it’s time to leave that job and your partner behind and come back and run our families’ businesses together.”

“Kevin, let me go. I know what I said before. I did my healing and I won’t settle for anything less than I want and deserve. And I don’t want you. I’m sorry.” Drea whispered back urgently, pushing Kevin back into his seat.

“You’re such a stupid bitch you know that. After everything we’ve been through. After you chose that psycho over me. And who did you go running to when he turned on you? You think you’re too good for me Drea? You’re nothing but a used up druggies bitch who doesn’t know when to shut up and just take her best option. Or do you only let psycho meth heads fuck you? Does your new partner know what kind of whore you are?” Kevin seethed, getting in her face. His voice grew louder with each sentence. The music and chatter was still louder than him, but those nearby had started to notice that something was wrong.

Drea was close to tears, standing from her seat she addressed him, “How could you say that?”

“How could you reject me? I’m more than you deserve but I would still love you Drea. Even knowing your history. Not many men would. Especially men of my caliber. You think your little lieutenant will still like you when he finds out what they did to you? You aren’t worth anything Drea. But I’m worth so much that I can make up for it. Just stop being such a pig headed bitch and make a good choice for once!” Kevin urged her. Grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her.

Suddenly, Drea was pulled from his grasp and Jared was in front of her, throwing a punch so hard that Kevin landed hard on the floor, knocked out. Eyes started turning towards them, someone gasped, someone screamed. Then people were rushing towards them. Jared turned to her to say something, but she couldn’t hear anything. Blood was rushing in her ears, tears were streaming down her face and all she could do was run. So she did.

She ran between the tables, pushed her way through the crowd and escaped through side doors that lead to a courtyard. The spring night air was cold on her skin, her breaths coming in sharp inhales that nearly made her cough. Drea couldn’t see the beautiful garden or the perfectly carved pillars through her tears. The heaving sobs that wracked her body came hard and fast. She reached out for something, anything to cling to while she spiralled into the feeling. Like she was dying. So overwhelmingly alive with pain and cold air and heartache, but at the same time she was dying from it.

Drea’s hand found the cold rock of a pillar and she gripped fruitlessly at the smooth surface. Her knees gave way and she fell. Curling up against the pillar, her hands gripping the cloth at her chest, trying to find her own heart because she didn’t think it could still be there.

Drea was so overwhelmed that she hadn’t noticed that Jared wasn’t far behind her. When he reached for her hands to stop her from tearing her dress she fought back.

“Drea! Drea! It’s me! It’s Jared! I’m not going to hurt you,” Jared pleaded as she scratched and flailed. He managed to grab both her wrists and then held them both down with one hand while the other gently but firmly cupped her cheek, “Drea, look at me. Look at me. You’re ok. You’re safe. It’s just me. It’s Jared.”

Drea met his eyes and familiarity slowly sank in. When she finally spoke her voice was soft and broken from crying, “Jay?”

Jared just opened his arms and Drea threw herself into them, weeping. His mind was moving a mile a minute. He was angry at Kevin for what he said, even though he didn’t understand half of it. He was angry at himself for leaving Drea alone when he was supposed to protect her. But most of all he was worried. Drea never shortened his name. She said she felt like she was stepping into Michaela territory if she did. Instead she made up all kinds of silly names for him instead.

Her wracking sobs soon faded and her breathing slowed. Jared now had his back to the pillar, his arms around Drea, with her in his lap. She had her head curled into the crook of his neck. Jared didn’t say anything as he held her in his arms, gently running his hand up and down the outside of her bicep. He tried not to think of how good she smelled, and how she was trembling just the slightest bit.

The tell tale click of high heels on stone broke the intimate moment. Drea stiffened in his arms but he only held her tighter and whispered reassuring words.

“Drea? Jared?” Katrina called softly before she rounded the pillar. Once she spotted them she gasped at the sight of her friend and knelt down, “Oh Dre. I’m so sorry. If we had known he would push you again we would have never left you alone. He’s gone now. Your dad had a fit and Julian kicked him out. I can’t believe he would say those things.”

Drea didn’t respond, just turned closer into Jared’s neck. She was telling him she wanted to go. He didn’t know how he knew but he knew. “Katrina, is there any way you can get the valet to bring Drea’s car to the back outside the courtyard gate? I think it’s best that I take Drea home.”

“Jared, it really won’t look good for her to just leave. I mean it will be like she let Kevin win,” Katrina responded without thinking.

Drea flinched, and that made Jared angry, “Look Katrina I know we just met, but right now I think the only one who is putting Drea first is me. So please get Drea’s car brought over. We are leaving and I don’t give a damn what any of you people think because Drea did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Properly chastised Katrina whispered an apology before heading back into the building. Jared sighed pulling Drea closer to his chest to bring him some comfort of his own. He leaned his head against Drea’s, kissing her forehead instinctually, “Drea, I’m gonna take you home ok. I know I’m making decisions for you and you hate that but I’m worried about you. So I’m going to take you home where I know you will be safe, away from all this.”

Drea didn’t respond for a moment then he felt her nod her head and grip him tighter. Her voice came soft and muffled, “Take me home, Jay.”

Jared did just that. He took her home to his house. Something told him she didn’t want to go back to her apartment. She didn’t question the route they took or when they arrived in front of his place and he led her inside. Drea was looking less unstable but that didn’t stop Jared from babying her. He sat her in the living room and brought her a glass of cold water. She sipped at it. He carefully took her shoes off and then gingerly started combing her hair. Drea stayed stuck in her thoughts until she realized he was meticulously taking out her clip in extensions and placing them on the coffee table.

Drea was surprised at the thoughtful and detailed gesture and felt herself start crying again. But the tears were silent and accompanied by a sad smile.

“There we go. Well, Cinderella, it is a lot later than midnight and time for bed. I’ll go find you something to sleep in and wash up myself. Then you can have my bedroom and the bathroom,” Jared stood up to go up stairs but Drea grasped his hand. When he turned she stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Jared. Thank you for everything.”

“Drea, you’re my friend. You needed me and I was there. I don’t know what all that was but don’t feel like you have to explain anything to me. I’m just happy you’re feeling better. That Kevin guy is a dick. Forget him and anything he said,” Jared replied. He held her close, rubbing his hand up and down on her back. She finally relinquished her grasp on him and looked up at him.

Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy. But she looked up at him with a soft smile, “You really are a knight in a shining necktie.”

Jared laughed and just made his way upstairs. In the meantime, Drea checked her phone. There were a few missed calls and texts that she ignored. She decided not to tell Jared the details behind the confrontation that night. She wasn’t ready to admit it to him. When Jared came down, he had his arms full. An extra blanket and pillow for himself and a t-shirt and boxers for her. “This is all I have but it should be comfortable enough for tonight. Don’t bother arguing with me about my bed. You’re my guest, and after tonight you need the comfort of a nice bed.”

He handed her the clothing then walked over to the couch, setting up his sleeping area. He was wearing thin grey sweats and a black wife beater. If Drea were in a better mood she would have made a joke about seeing him so undressed. Jared was about to settle in and shut off the light when he realized that Drea was still in the room, staring at him, “What?”

“Nothing,” Drea answered quickly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

“No sharing beds. At least not yet,” Jared quipped, winking at her.

“Shut up!” Drea gasped and ran up the stairs.

Jared just chuckled to himself as he shut off the light and got comfortable. The events of the day passed through his mind. He tried not to think about how good Drea looked in her dress, or how good she probably looked in his shirt and boxers. He tried not to think about how good she smelled, or the jealousy and rage he felt when he saw Kevin touching her and then yelling at her. Holding her for who knows how long in that courtyard, in any other instance, would have made him uncomfortable. But it quelled his rage, and woke something else in him. What it awoke were feelings that were too deep to be merely platonic. But he wouldn’t think about that.

Upstairs Drea had decided to take a shower. She was surprised to find a basic but thorough skincare regimen, decent shampoo and conditioner, and neutral smelling shower gels in his bathroom. Remnants he probably picked up from his last two serious relationships. She silently thanked god that she wasn’t forced to use a 3-in-1 after a day like today.

Soon she was tucked up in bed, her hair wrapped in a towel and clad in the clothes Jared gave her. The bed smelled of him and so did the clothes. A smell she now associated with his strong arms around her as she broke down. Jared went above and beyond with helping her tonight and she felt her heart ache a little. Kevin’s words were still ringing in her ears. What would Jared think once she told him the truth of what had happened to her?

Her phone chimed from the bedside table. Jared had texted her.

*You’re amazing, Drea. Ignore what Kevin said. I will always think you’re amazing and funny and stubborn as hell. Nothing anyone could say would make me feel any different.*

Drea hugged her phone to her chest and let a few tears slip out before her phone chimed again.

*No more crying or you’ll look like a steamed bun in the morning.*

She couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Jared was here and he liked how she was right now. The past was the past. Finally she snuggled into Jared’s bed and went to sleep.

[cto10121]

Top R&J Adaptation Pet Peeves

Adaptation is hard. Really, really hard. Shakespeare especially knew it; he was one of the best adapters for theater ever, and he himself adapted R&J from Arthur Brooke’s Tragedie of Romeus and Juliet. Since then Shakespeare’s play itself has been given the adaptation treatment and hooo boy, are there doozies, misses, and fascinating failures. Most are published fanfic flops, like the ones I reviewed for my blog, but others tend to be more complicated than that. So without further ado, let’s dive into the Top Adaptation Pet Peeves I’ve personally encountered, or simply tropes and patterns I find annoying.

The two families/groups not being alike in dignity. Yes, I’m looking at all the productions and adaptations that decide to switch the whole rival houses dynamic for a race or class one. The ones who pit a marginalized group against another marginalized group, like Romiette and Julio (Black/Hispanic respectively) are fine-ish. West Side Story also does this, but unfortunately the whole “white ethnic” gang is no longer a thing now, as most non-WASP ethnic white groups are considered functionally white nowadays, so it does become a problem re: the Puerto Ricans being the underdogs to the white ethnics. Some have done a poor/rich, privileged/marginalized dynamic, but you just can’t do it with R&J; it breaks the equality of the pairing. By far the worst of these is the anime Romeo X Juliet, which had the evil Montagues be the corrupt ruling power who usurped the throne from the Capulets (????). Look, the whole point is that the two groups’ differences are superficial and stupid, and that they are more alike than different. This doesn’t work if one group is favored/discriminated against over another. It also leads to disturbing implications—namely, justifying a dangerous and destructive feud and intergroup violence and hatred in general. Another side effect is that it ruins the mutuality of the lovers by bringing in unequal power dynamics where it isn’t needed.

Juliet as a #girlboss/badass/“strong female protagonist”. Many adaptations do some measure of this by having Juliet resist even the first mention of Paris, talk back to her parents and the Nurse, and, for Gong’s These Violent Delights (Juliette Cai as the dagger-wielding daughter of a gang) and the anime Romeo X Juliet, (Juliet crossdressing as the vigilante the Red Whirlwind) actually kick ass and generally “strong female protagonist”-it up. I think this is largely a reaction to Juliet’s canonically marginalized position as a sheltered 16th century maid, mistaking the passivity and lack of agency of her status as a character trait. As a result, we get CrouchingTigerHiddenDragon!Juliet. Just no. The original Juliet, as everyone should know like their own name, was no shrinking violet, but neither was she a YA/anime shonen dominatrix either, and I feel she wouldn’t be even in an AU. Also, by this point it’s so cliché. Juliet is so well-written as she is; why stuff her into this Katniss Everdeen peg?

Juliet as an immature ~bby. Not so much adaptation!dumb, thank goodness, but I’ve seen this small trend in play productions that take the “Juliet-is-thirteen” thing waaaaaay too seriously and either have a tween-looking actress or make the actress play Juliet a facsimile of what a thirteen-year-old is supposed to be like. I especially will never forget the Orlando Bloom production that had poor Juliet deliver her “Gallop apace” on a swing. Awful.

Mercutio being turned into either 1) wacky, comic relief gay or 2) a mystical/sad tragic gay. Mercutio occasionally gets done dirty in either of those two ways and it’s sad. That French Canadian film Roméo et Juliette is by far the most damning offender of the latter take. I don’t like either trope, and I certainly don’t like it for Mercutio, for whom it doesn’t really fit. Also, I feel it’s important to note that as the Prince’s kinsman Mercutio is the most higher ranked and privileged of the three, his being forced into a “sad, tragic gay” mold feels ludicrous. Even his death comes about because he wanted to avenge Romeo’s honor (or, well, more like he really wanted a fight), not because he was Bury Your Gay’ed. Cocciante’s Giulietta e Romeo musical does something unique and has him as an omnipotent narrator, which works a little better than it should, but overall it’s also a miss. Mercutio is Romeo’s foil and a fun side character; outside of that, it’s hard to make him work without changing his character entirely.

Romeo being turned into 1) an immature woobie/“cinnamon roll,” 2) bumbling hero, 3) a himbo/idiot, or 4) evil (!!). My poor boi has been done the dirtiest in so many different ways, it’s hard to quantify or even name them. They range from flattening his character a little to “romantic idiot” to full-on Ron the Death Eater-ing him (yes, that’s a thing, twice!! See Juliet Immortal et al. Or rather not). The last two are mostly in the realms of salty fanfic, thankfully, but the himbo idiot and woobie still inform some actors’ performances. Needless to say, I hate all of this. Romeo is no idiot, himbo or not, and he is as mature as the rest of the youths (he is at least praised by Capulet as a “portly gentleman”). Canonically he is shown to best Mercutio in a game of wits and explicitly restrains himself from revealing himself at Juliet’s balcony. Act 5 shows him coldly but effectively convincing an apothecary in less than a dozen lines to break the law and sell him poison. I don’t exactly know from what stems this woobification of Romeo. Actually, no, I do. Romeo may be climb high orchard walls, playfully roast his friends, talk about how chastity vows are stupid and hope Juliet would cast off that pesky virginity of hers, and kill two characters all he likes, but as soon as he weeps immoderately over being banished/separated from Juliet and the possibility of her not loving him anymore, he renounces his Man(tm) card. Hello, gender roles-based sexism! God, I hate you so much. Please die.

“It’s a dark, ~crazy world!!! Verona is a violent, crass, tacky, dangerous hellhole!!!” Okay, so this is mostly shade thrown at Baz Lurhmann and the Hungarian version of Presgurvic’s RetJ, (the latter more fondly than the former) but it still disappoints me. The whole “fair Verona” thing aside, I think it’s clear that Shakespeare’s Verona is supposed to be a violent, steamy clusterfuck, but with the veneer of wealth and prosperity and genteel good taste that papers over the cracks. It’s the whole appearance vs. reality thing. I still think French RetJ does Verona best, and fortunately most productions and versions get it as a “quaint pretty small town is actually a hellhole” thing (hell, I think even that Gnomeo and Juliet movie made the suburban lawns nice). I just like the contrast, what can I say?

“Benvolio, Mercutio, Tybalt are more interesting than R&J, let’s make it all about them instead!!!1” This is the weirdest thing, but I think there were some web series (at least one, and no, not Jules and Monty) that literally did this, a weird modern Tycutio AU. But in general, adaptations that overdevelop the feud and the whole Benvolio-Mercutio-Tybalt thing at the expense of R&J are a no-go for me. I like the three and they all have their little crannies of character nuance, but they are less developed and the feud drama less interesting overall than R&J. I also don’t like the ships with any of the three, Bencutio and Tycutio being the most popular set-up. Canonically Mercutio and Benvolio spend most of their time either searching for Romeo or talking about him and how much he’s changed. As for Tycutio, Mercutio disdains Tybalt’s dueling skills and overall they don’t seem to know each other well personally. Both ships have no chemistry with each other and are firmly into fanon territory.

“R&J’s love was like a cinnamon roll, too good, too pure for this world…” Some adaptations, uncomfortable with some of the high-scale eroticism of the lovers, tend towards this. They’re teen sweethearts, high school, if you will, so let’s make them as cute and chaste and ~uwu as possible. Romeo X Juliet tends sickeningly towards this, but that just might be the demure Japanese culture informing the text. But I don’t know. R&J are not exactly horndogs, but they’re not dead either (horny bird metaphor, anyone? Also Juliet’s whole famous I-wanna-bang monologue). It’s secretly condescending too, in that it tries to put down and dismiss R&J as puppy love…puppy love that leads them to an uncompromising position and a double suicide, but okay. Sounds fake, but okay.

“R&J was just lust and it’s kinda their fault, actually—” Nothing will make me loathe your adaptation quicker than this. Fortunately most adaptations know enough not to go that far, but Baz Luhrmann’s version definitely has some of this vibe, along with some forced comedy. Kill it with fire.

[purplecatdad]

Of Bears and Friends (RDR Reverse Bang)

Written for the @rdrbigbang reverse bang for the wonderful picture of @mgcoco

| Arthur/Albert | General Audience | Fluff | Read it on AO3 |

Arthur sighed as he closed his journal. He had just finished up the sketch of their new camp at Clemens point as he reminisced about the things that had happened. 

Colm had attacked them, right in the middle of the little town of Valentine. That bastard had taken John (and Strauss, but Arthur wasn’t very fond of the feller), and had threatened to shoot him right in front of them. Gladly both him and Dutch were skilled enough with their guns to get the situation under control, even when they were heavily outnumbered. 

Arthur still had been worried about John for a moment, even if he’d never admit that to the other man. He’d become like a brother to him and he’d never forgive himself if he had been too slow to protect Jack from losing his father or Abigail her husband. 

He lit himself a cigarette after his journal was safely stored away in his satchel again and took a long drag, feeling his lungs filling up with the smoke before he breathed out again. He still had to sell that gold bar that he had gotten from that weird German guy. Arthur had thought about just donating it to the camp funds for others to take care of the selling, but right now he felt like taking a break anyway.

Cigarette dangling between his lips he got up, stretched until his bones cracked and shouldered his satchel.He didn’t plan to stay away too long but he knew that sometimes things went differently than you plan them and so he packed up some cans of beans from Pearson’s wagon. He was usually good at hunting his food but sometimes it was nice to just heat up a can instead of crouching in the bushes. 

“I’ll be gone for a bit. Maybe a week or two,” he announced to Dutch, who rested in his little tent, the gramophone blasting some random tune that Arthur had heard one too many times before. 

“Alright. Be safe, son. And better come back with a good lead or two,” the gang leader responded and Arthur just tipped his hat in response. He wouldn’t promise anything but of course he’d keep his ears open and his mind sharp. Life as an outlaw had taught him that there was money to be made at every corner and that one shouldn’t miss out on the opportunity. 

He tacked up the Black Shire he had named Thor, packed his bedroll and some more supplies to make camp before heading out. Firstly he would make his way up north. He had discovered this little, almost dead town called Van Horn before and knew that he’d make good money with the gold bar there. He also realized that it had been a while now since he’d last visited the widow Charlotte who lived up north the Roanoke. He decided to pay her a visit as well, just to make sure that she was alright and skilled enough to take care of herself. 

The sun was still rising as he made his way out of camp, setting a steady pace but making sure not to push his horse too hard. Arthur loved riding fast but it had cost him too many good horses when he was still young. He had learned when it was time to push them and when it was better to let them choose their own pace. 

"You‘re a good boy,“ he praised the stallion as he patted his neck. Back at Horseshoe Overlook, Thor had been quite the brute. One time he had even kicked him hard enough for Arthur to land on his ass. He had thought about selling him when Hosea told him to but something had told Arthur that he should keep his horse. He still missed Boadicea and longed for a horse that he could rely on. The Shire didn‘t seem to be that kind of horse at first but Arthur found him far too beautiful to just give him away to end up in front of some poor farmer‘s wagon. 

He had taken Thor out with him into the Heartlands, naming him after the god of Thunder as the sounds his hooves made when galloping over the endless meadows. It had taken them a while to properly get along, to train him to come when he whistled and to follow up. After two weeks of back and forth between them, Arthur knew that he could rely on Thor, though. Some daring Bounty Hunters had been chasing him, nearly getting him by ambushing him as he was making camp. But Thor didn’t let them. He had kicked them right off of their horses and stomped one of them to death as Arthur had shot the other. 

Since then, they had only been separated whenever he had been at camp or sleeping in a hotel rather than on his bedroll.

His first few hours of travelling were calm and uneventful. The people he passed didn‘t seem interested in him and he also wasn’t interested in them as none of them looked like they were carrying great amounts of cash. He knew that there weren‘t many rich folk up Roanoke Ridge so he hadn‘t expected it anyway. 

As he had passed the swampy area around Lagras the ground became more firm again and the road was taking him through the forest. Arthur felt better here, without the high humidity, surrounded by trees. He generally enjoyed being in nature, especially if it was the forest or the desert … but he hated the cold that they had in Colter as much as the warm and humid air around Lagras. He took a deep breath to enjoy the scent of the trees around him when he heard a familiar voice mumbling. 

"Where are they … I‘m sure they must be some somewhere here …,“ Arthur brought Thor to a halt and looked around the trees until he spotted the man with his camera. A smile spread over his lips as he watched him searching for something. Albert Mason was a strange man but he had actually become a good friend of his during the last few weeks. He had met him several times before, trying to photograph wolves, horses, and alligators. Albert seemed to be that rare kind of person who was born into wealth and still seeked out the adventurous outdoors - without being disgusted by its reality. Arthur still remembered that “gentleman” he had met on his way to Strawberry who had demanded to get a ride into the town while constantly complaining about it. It had annoyed Arthur immensely, so much that a part of him had actually thought about just robbing that man blind and leaving him behind. But Albert was different. He saw the beauty in nature, saw the dangers that lay in it, but also the wonders. And that was why he had started taking his photographs - and why Arthur thought of him as a friend. 

“Did ya lose something’?” Arthur called over to Albert who jumped and almost threw over his camera. He looked around until he saw Arthur and a wide smile appeared on his face. 

“Mr. Morgan!” the photographer exclaimed as he walked up to him and Arthur got down from his horse. “It’s good to see you again. Have you been well?”

Arthur thought about the shootout in Valentine and the German family that he had rescued from the O’Driscolls. “Hmm, mostly,” he mused with a faint smile on his lips and lit himself a cigarette. “So, whatcha lookin’ for?” 

“Oh, uh …”, Albert seemed to need a moment to remember what he had been doing. “I was looking for bears. I’ve actually found quite a few black bears already but I’d like something more …” he seemed to be at a loss of words and just waved around to indicate something big. 

“More … impressive?” Arthur suggested.

“Impressive, yes! They are pretty alright but something like … like a grizzly! That might be a great motive for a picture!”  

“A grizzly?” Arthur barked out a laugh in disbelief and shook his head. “You really do wanna die taking pictures, don’t cha?”

Albert chuckled at that and it almost sounded a little nervous. “Well, now that you’ve stumbled upon me … Maybe you want to make sure I don’t just yet?” 

Arthur looked back at him. “Ya know that we’d better head up to the Grizzlies for that, yeah? Ain’t many grizzlies around here. And I first gotta get some business done in Van Horn and then go visit a friend up at Brandywine Drop …” He wasn’t sure if Albert would be up for so much travelling but having some company actually sounded kind of nice. 

“Oh, if you don’t mind me traveling with you I’d love to join you on the road. I’m sure there will be some more opportunities for me to take pictures on the way.” Albert seemed to be delighted about the prospect of traveling alongside him and Arthur wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. What if Albert would realise what kind of person he actually was and decide that he wasn’t a person he wanted to keep around anymore? What if he himself got annoyed at him? What if … but Arthur stopped his thoughts, took a last long drag from his cigarette and flicked it away.

“Alright then … do you … have a horse?” Arthur had realized that he had never actually seen him traveling around and looked around until he saw a small Criollo hitched to a nearby tree who looked over at them like it was aware of him asking for it. 

“That’s Daisy,” Albert said as he followed Arthur’s gaze on the horse. “She might be small but she is very reliable. Has never let me down so far.”

Arthur walked up to the little horse and offered his hand for her to sniff. Her fur looked like red and grey marble, her mane a dark brown. She gently nudged his hand as if asking for treats and Arthur chuckled low in his throat. “She’s quite the sweetheart, ain’t she?” 

After Albert had packed up his camera, eager to get moving to find some grizzlies up north they crossed the Kamassa River. It already started to get dark, the sun slowly setting over the horizon in the distance. It would have been possible to get to Van Horn and rent out a room somewhere there but considering the state of the town, Arthur preferred to make camp before heading in there. 

“You know, we actually should make camp somewhere. I’ll hunt us something. You can …,” he hesitated, not sure about Albert’s survival skills. “Can you make a campfire?” 

Albert looked up at him from Daisy’s back. “I, uh … can certainly try.”

Arthur sighed at that, only now realizing that he would have to do the muscle work on this trip. “How did you survive in the wild up until now?” 

“Well, I was always staying over in Hotels, mostly. But I’d happily learn a thing or two from you.”

“There’s an old fort close by … if there’s nobody else right now we can use it as a camp for the night,” Arthur suggested and Albert’s face lit up. 

“An old fort? Oh, how exciting!” 

They headed over there, Arthur holding the big doors to the fort open while Albert rode past him inside it. Luckily there was an old, abandoned campfire right next to a small hut within the fort that Arthur brought back to life with some matches and dry twigs that were lying around. 

“You can find some more wood and add to it so it’ll last us overnight. I’ll be back in a bit, there are plenty of turkeys and rabbits here,” Arthur announced and left the fort after Albert nodded. 

After their time in Colter, Arthur actually preferred to hunt on foot with his bow and arrow, at least when it came to harmless animals like deer or rabbits. He had become good at it, thanks to practising it a lot with Charles, but not good enough to guarantee him a kill on attacking wolves or cougars. 

He went into the nearest line of trees and gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light there before he looked around for animal tracks. Arthur heard a turkey’s gobble coming somewhere from his right side and ducked down so he wouldn’t get their attention. There was a small group of four of them, so he had a good chance of getting at least one. 

He slowly got closer to them, raising his bow with an arrow ready when he was in shooting range. He was a good sharp shooter but he still needed a little more time to prepare for a shot with the bow. Arthur breathed in, pulling the bow back at the same time and released it as he breathed out again. The arrow hit the turkey at the base of the neck and it fell to the ground with a gentle thud. The others ran off immediately and Arthur went to collect his prey. 

When he got back to the fort, roughly ten minutes after he had left, Albert was gone. Sure, he had told him to collect firewood but Arthur hadn’t seen him around the fort as well and he wasn’t anywhere near the line of trees. He dropped the turkey on the floor, worried that something had happened to his travel companion. 

“Mr. Mason?!” he called out, looking around the fort for a hint where the photographer could’ve vanished too. Both Daisy and Thor, who were hitched at the corner of the fort, looked at him like he was disturbing their peaceful evening. Arthur cursed under his breath, hoping that his friend hadn’t been taken by some ill meaning asshole. 

There weren’t really any tracks on the ground that he could make out as it hadn’t rained in a while. He noticed that Albert had left his equipment at their little campsite though so he figured that he was either still closeby or that somebody had taken him. 

“Mr. Morgan! I’m down here!” He heard a voice calling from … somewhere. He approached the little cabin that was still somewhat standing and looked inside. There was no trace of Albert still but he was certain that it had come from this direction. He walked into the dark room, holes in the wall and the ceiling shining dim light into it. Soon it would be too dark to see here. He made out a ladder that led downwards and peeked inside, noticing a shadow and a dim light.

“Mr. Mason?” he asked again and got a “you should come down here, Mr. Morgan. Check it out!” Arthur sighed and climbed down into the basement, wondering if the building would collapse and bury them underneath and if whatever was down there was actually worth it. When he turned around, there was a dagger directly pointing at his nose. 

“This must be the last few remnants from the war!” Arthur took a step to the side and gently removed the knife from Alberts grip. It was big, like an actual hunting knife. There were traces of blood on the blade, long dried out, the victim probably dead for decades by now.

“That’s a pretty knife alright. You want to keep it? I’ve got my hunting knife but this might come in handy for you some time.” “But .. it belonged to someone!” Albert seemed shocked that Arthur suggested to him to just take it and the outlaw was reminded that not everyone grew up just taking what they needed. Arthur shrugged and stored the knife in the sheath of his hunting knife. 

“He ain’t gonna need it no more. But I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” He might as well just sell it at the fence, along with the gold bar he had found. 

“I also found this …” Albert noted and held up a cigarette card of a black panther. “Isn’t it a fine specimen? Oh, I’d LOVE to take a picture of one some time!” 

Arthur chuckled gently, shaking his head along with his. “You really wanna die, don’t cha?” 

A few minutes later Arthur was finally settled around the fire, strips of turkey meat roasting above it and an opened can of beans slowly warming up right next to it. Albert had excused himself to take some pictures of the fort from the outside and left him alone for a bit. 

Arthur looked up to the stars and enjoyed the silence for a moment. This was what he had longed for when he had left camp. To not be surrounded by nearly thirty people, all chatting and babbling, everybody wanting something from him or expecting him to bring in money. He didn’t mind helping people and he loved the gang like a family. But sometimes it all got too much. Sometimes he just wanted to travel, see the world and enjoy nature. Sometimes he didn’t want to be the great enforcer of the Van der Linde Gang. Sometimes he was content with just being Arthur. A wandering soul, ever moving, traveling to wherever his horse carried him. 

“This really is a lot more … rustic than I am used to.” He heard Albert’s voice coming from the side and was suddenly pulled out from his thoughts. For a moment he had forgotten that he wasn’t completely alone. “But this is very exciting! I’ve always wanted to sleep outside when I was a little boy. Never gotten around to actually doing it.”

Arthur blinked at Albert who settled down on the floor next to him, the camera neatly packed away again. “You’ve never slept outside?” It seemed so strange to him, like a completely different world. 

“Well, I grew up in the city. There weren’t any good spots to sleep outside in New York, Mr. Morgan. And as I said, so far I’ve usually slept in hotels. I’m glad to have this opportunity now, I hope to venture even further out west some time but I’m certain I’ll need more uh ... outdoor skills for that.” 

He wondered if the photographer had any idea about how dangerous the west really could be. “The west ain’t a place for city folk, Mr. Mason. Especially not if they’re all on their own.” Of course, it would be Alberts decision alone but Arthur really didn’t want him to get hurt because he was foolish enough to venture out alone. “Better get yourself someone who knows their way around and who you can trust.” 

“What about you, then, Mr. Morgan? Would you like to join me some time?” 

“Join you? Out west?” Arthur hadn’t expected Albert to just offer it like that... or to be quite so serious about it all. 

“Yes. You obviously know your way around, and I like your company. Of course, I can pay you for your time and the protection as well! I imagine it must be quite the trip there. As long as you don’t have any responsibilities here … I mean … I don’t really know how involved you are around here, of course. It just seemed to be like you’re … well, you seem to be quite a free spirit, in a sense...”  

Albert was babbling again, like he sometimes did. But Arthur didn’t mind it, it gave him time to think about the offer. What if he took it? Earning some honest money for a change and still doing things that he loved sounded good. But he knew he couldn’t just leave the gang behind. He wasn’t John who just left for a whole year or Trewlawny who didn’t even stay with them most of the time. He belonged in camp. What if something happened when he was away for multiple weeks, maybe even months? 

“I’ll think about that offer. Let’s first see how we’ll get along on this trip, shall we?”, He suggested. So far they had only ever spent an afternoon together. Maybe they wouldn’t even get along if they’d be around each other for longer. Arthur knew that he could tolerate a lot - after all, he was in a gang with Sean MacGuire for several years now and had only almost strangled him once - but he wasn’t sure if Albert would still like him if he got to know the real Arthur Morgan. Outlaw, killer, bastard. Nobody a proper man like Albert would usually keep around.  

“Yes, you might be right. But I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. So, my good Sir, what will we have for dinner, if I may ask?” Albert asked, his tone shifted from his usually happy babbling to something that resembled a fine gentleman in an even finer establishment. It made Arthur chuckle and forget his grim thoughts for a moment. Maybe Albert really could stay his friend. 

The night had been uneventful and calm, just like Arthur had hoped. After they had eaten the turkey with the beans, Albert had shared his last bit of chocolate with him. There had been some smalltalk, mostly Albert telling him about places he had been before and places he still wanted to see. All those that Arthur had never seen and probably never would. New York, Chicago, Philadelphia. Crowded places that he’d rather avoid. 

They had packed up their things after a quick breakfast with coffee, leftover meat and a shared bread roll, saddled their horses and made their way up to Van Horn. 

“So, what’s that town like? Van Horn, you said? I’ve never heard of it,” Albert asked him as they were moving along the path. 

“It’s a shithole, really,” Arthur explained as he lit himself a cigarette. “Not many people left there aside from some whores, gamblers, and alcoholics. Ain’t sure what happened to the town but it died out at some point and now there’s just the scum left.”

“Oh…” Albert didn’t seem to have expected that kind of answer. “So, what are you doing there?” 

“Well, a German fella that I’ve helped get rid of some … nasty folk .. he paid me with a damn gold bar. And I know I can sell those to a gentleman in town.” 

“Oh, there's a bullion dealer in town?” 

“Something like that, yeah.” It wasn’t exactly the truth but Arthur didn’t want to elaborate any further right now. 

They rode in silence for a while, occasionally stopping when Albert found something he wanted to photograph. 

The first thing they saw was the lighthouse of Van Horn. Once built to guide ships at the broad Lannahechee River it now started to rot away since it got neglected by the townsfolk. Arthur suspected that they simply ran out of funding. Most ships would probably rather find a harbour in Saint Denis down south, with more people being able to board in such a big city and more trades to me made with the large warehouses. He had seen plenty of towns like Van Horn in his life. Promising little settlements who had died out for various reasons. Bad investments, too many outlaws passing through and robbing the place, illnesses and sometimes for no reason at all. Sometimes, like here, there was still business to be made but other times it was best to just stay away. 

He noticed that Albert had grown more quiet since they had passed the last road bend. Arthur suspected that he was a little shocked due to the state of the town, despite Arthur warning him beforehand. He wondered if it was Albert’s first time in a place like this. 

“Don’t worry, we ain’t gonna stay long. Just stay close to me and don’t talk to anybody,” Arthur assured him and he felt Albert’s gaze on him for a moment. 

They rode past the fallen down houses and the saloon. He could see some lonely patrons in there, those who probably hadn’t left during the night and were still there in the late morning, slowly waking up to start drinking again as they had nothing left anymore. Arthur averted his eyes, painfully reminded of his own father. Sometimes he had waited for him in their shabby room right down the street from the saloon. Lyle had often promised him to come back with money that he’d win gambling but Arthur had to learn early that it were mostly empty promises, the money oftentimes just spent on liquor and women while he had waited at home with a hole in his stomach. 

Some women who stood next to the remains of the hotel looked at them with hope in their eyes for a moment, probably hoping for some money from lonesome travelers who wanted to let off some steam but they soon realized that Arthur and his companion were just passing through the town. 

He stopped next to the old post office, telling Albert to wait while he was doing his business. Arthur hitched Thor to a nearby post and walked up to the building in which he knew the fence did his business. It didn’t feel right leaving Albert behind in such a place and the photographer did look a little lost but he preferred it like that. He didn’t only have the gold bar with him but also a few pocket watches and belt buckles that he had taken from some unfortunate souls on the streets. He didn’t want Albert to just see it if there was no need to. 

“I’ll give you 550$ for that,” the fence said after Arthur had put all of the items, including the old knife he had found, on his table. 

“50$ more and we got ourselves a deal,” Arthur responded. He wouldn’t let the fence cheap out of this. 

“560$, last offer.”

He took out his gun and held it up to the fence's face. “600$, or I’ll take the money and the merchandise. We both know there’s no law around to help you.”

The fence stared at the gun for a second, then nodded shortly. “Alright. 600$. I don’t want any trouble here.”

“No trouble at all,” Arthur agreed with a content smirk and holstered his gun again before he grabbed the money that was offered and stashed it away in his satchel. 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” He tipped his hat and left the small warehouse before heading back to Albert. Arthur lit himself another cigarette, glad that he turned the gold into some money now. He frowned as he saw Albert in the distance who was being surrounded by some women who seemed to be a little too interested in him. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Arthur heard one of them say as he got closer. “I’ll give you the time of your life. Just two dollars, you won't regret it, I promise.”

Albert’s face was red as a tomato, stammering something unintelligible and raising his hands in defense. It seemed like this was his first time being approached by prostitutes desperate for money and so Arthur walked up to them to rescue him out of that situation. 

“Leave him alone,” he snarled. “There’s cheaper ways to catch syphilis. Get lost!”

“That’s rude of you, Mister!” One of the prostitutes said but she also scuttered off like the rest of them when Arthur placed a hand on his gun and said “I ain’t gonna ask again.”

Arthur unhitched Thunder and jumped up on his back again as Albert collected himself. “You alright, Mr. Mason? They’re a little obtrusive here sometimes.”

“Y-yes .. I’m okay. Thank you.”

They headed out of the city again, up North and following the Lannahechee River that was glistening from the sun standing high in the sky. Arthur knew that there were lots of mean folk around here but he still loved the area for it’s lush greens. They rode in silence for a bit, sharing the occasional oatcakes and Albert stopping to take pictures now and again. It was a calm, beautiful day and Arthur enjoyed the ride a lot, even with Albert babbling about some rare species of bird that was rumoured to be seen around here. His babbling was simply different from the buzzing in camp. He didn’t expect anything from him and instead of complaining about too many chores or not enough money, Albert just seemed to be … excited about the things he saw. 

In the beginning, Arthur had found it childish for a grown man to get so excited about animals or nature's beauty. It reminded him of Jack who sometimes got all happy about dandelion seeds in the wind, even if it was such a mundane thing. After meeting Albert multiple times though and getting to know him a little better he found it endearing. It was contagious to see him all excited and Arthur had often caught himself smiling about the same things and always ended up sketching the animals that Albert had taken pictures of. Nature was beautiful, after all. And Albert had reminded him of that. 

“Not long until we’ll reach Annesburg,” Arthur started after a couple of hours of riding. “Should we rent a room there to spend the night?” 

Arthur noticed Albert blushing for a second and wondered why but before he had the chance to come to a conclusion the other man responded. “Ah, I enjoyed camping out with you far too much to get back to the confines of a hotel room just yet. If you don’t mind.”  

Arthur chuckled at that, amused that Albert seemed to have found some joy in staying outside now. Unusual for a city boy like him, he mused. “Sure, we can. I’d say we look for a good spot after we passed Annesburg then. Have you been there before?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t been, no.”

“It’s a mining town, air’s awfully dirty there. But you’ll see it soon.” 

Arthur chose the path that wouldn’t lead them directly through the city but rather around it. He wasn’t in the mood to pass through the town, not long ago he had a little argument with the Sheriff because he had accidentally run over a miner. The man had been fine and so Arthur had refused to see it as a crime. He didn’t want Albert to get mingled in that if the Sheriff saw him again and decided that it was a day of justice to be served.

As they got closer to the city, the air started to taste of smoke and stone. It was a strange thing that Arthur had never experienced before and while he was an avid smoker, this just didn’t seem right to him. It got harder to see into the distance as well. 

“I see now what you mean, Mr. Morgan,” Albert said as they approached the town. “It really is awfully dirty.” They passed the entry of the mine above the town and both of them shortly looked at the men walking past them and towards the mines. Their faces and clothes black with the dirt, their expressions tired and bodies hunched over from the hard work. 

“Oh, what an awful job this must be …,” Albert mused and Arthur hummed in agreement. “Not seeing the sun, always in danger of being buried alive … There must be better ways to earn a living.”

“Some ain’t got no choice, Mr. Mason. And this is what civilization does to us - we got bad air and awful jobs.” It was the reason he preferred to be out west. The air was clean and there were less people. Less big towns, less crowd … and less law to get in trouble with. 

“Well, it also gives us modern technology and science!” Albert exclaimed, patting his camera equipment that was strapped to his horse’s saddle. “I wouldn’t be able to do my job without it.”

Arthur thought about it for a moment. Yes, he enjoyed the photographs that Albert had shown him so far and their little adventures together but was it really worth all the hassle of civilisation? “I think I’d much rather miss out on some pretty pictures if that means I can stay away from cities. They’ve never done me any good. But I get that they’re important to you.” 

There was a soft smile on Albert’s face on that and Arthur wondered if the other man could even understand him all that well as someone who was born and raised in the city. There was no way he could understand what it meant to always roam free and to do what you want. “Maybe you’re right, Mr. Morgan. Maybe there really are things that are more important than pretty pictures.” 

After a little while they passed a cabin on the road. It was painted red and Arthur remembered that he had looked through the place before. Nobody had been home back then and there actually hadn’t been all that much to take. It seemed like there still was nobody at home and Arthur wondered if the place might be deserted for good now. He figured that it would be a bad idea to check again, just in case somebody would come home and Albert was still around. So they just passed it by and moved to a small incline behind it. 

“This should be a good place to stay for the night,” Arthur decided as the sun set on the horizon. “Brought some salted meat with me, we can eat that tonight so I won’t have to hunt.” 

Albert agreed and together they set up a tent. Last night they had slept within the confines of the old fort but tonight they weren’t protected by any walls. Albert really had two left hands when it came to setting up the tent so Arthur just told him to tend to the fire while he set it all up. He spread their bedrolls within the tent and realized that there really wouldn’t be much space between them. Arthur wondered if it would make Albert uncomfortable or not, he probably wasn’t used to sharing his breath with another man at night so he started to remove his own bedroll from the tent again, intending to sleep out next to the fire instead. 

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to sleep in the tent?” Albert asked him with big eyes.

“Well, there ain’t much space in there, Mr. Mason. No need to make you uncomfortable. I can sleep outside just fine.”

“Make me uncomfortable? Oh, now don’t be silly Mr. Morgan. It is your tent we will be sleeping in and it’s supposed to get plenty cold tonight. If anybody should sleep outside, it would be me. However, I wouldn’t mind sleeping right next to you, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.”

He hadn’t expected Albert to be so assertive about it and stopped in his tracks, musing over the words for a moment. Albert was right, it was supposed to get cold tonight with the sky as clear as it was and if it really didn’t bother him Arthur would very much prefer to sleep in a tent tonight. 

“If you’re sure ‘bout it…”

“I am, don’t you worry about that. I don’t just say things that I don’t mean.”

Arthur gave him a small smile at that and nodded. He turned around and unrolled the bedroll in the tent again, preparing their bed for the night before he settled in around the fire next to Albert. Tonight he heated up some canned peas that he served Albert and himself with a piece of bread and the salted meat. It wasn’t fine cuisine but he somehow always enjoyed these thrown together meals at the beginning of a trip when he still had some provisions to choose from. 

“So, how did you meet this lady that we’re visiting?” Albert asked him halfway through their shared meal. 

“Uh, well…,” it had been a tip from a guy he had freed from a prison wagon. A lone lady in a little cabin, rich apparently and an easy way to make money. After Arthur had met her he had refused to take her money, though. “Met her when I was passing by, heard her crying ‘bout her husband. Showed her how to hunt. She was more city folk before, much like you.” 

“You really like helping people, don’t you?” Albert said with a smile on her face, munching on some of the peas. “I like that about you, you know?” 

Arthur hadn’t expected to get a compliment, he cleared his throat and looked down onto his plate, unsure what to respond for a moment. “Well, can’t just let her starve just after losing her husband, can I? She wanted to create a new life for her so … I helped her achieve that. Was mostly her doing.” 

“I’m curious to meet her. She sounds like a very interesting person.” 

“I’m sure you’ll get along just fine. And afterwards, we can find a grizzly for you. Might even see a cub or two, it’s the season for ‘em right now. Just gotta be careful around them, the mothers don’t like people ‘round them.” 

Albert’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh, cubs would be so wonderful! I’m sure seeing them would help people see that they need to be protected.” 

He chuckled at that. Albert’s reason for taking pictures really was a noble one. But he wasn’t sure if he could reach that goal, especially with so many people each day being attacked and killed by wild predators that roamed America.

 “Maybe, yes. But remember that they are still dangerous, much like their mommas.” 

“Of course! But I also have you with me to protect me, don’t I, Mr. Morgan? “Sure you do.”

They finished their dinner, easing into some conversations about nothing in particular, sharing a bottle of whiskey and some cigarettes until Albert announced that he was tired and lay down in the tent. 

Arthur got out his journal, sketching their little campsite before he wrote down a few sentences about their adventure so far. 

Met this photographer again on the road. Decided to travel with him for a bit. Guy wants to see some grizzlies so I’ll take him to see one. First we’ll see Charlotte again though. Will see how she is holding up. 

He followed Albert into the tent after he had fed the fire one last time and tucked away his journal into his satchel again. The other man was already sound asleep, snoring very softly and his mouth hanging open a little. 

Arthur entered carefully, trying not to wake the other man as he lay down on his bedroll. He sat down his hat next to himself, stretched and yawned before he turned onto his side to sleep. Albert shuffled a little next to him, mumbling something in his sleep and moved up to him. Arthur felt the heat of the other man’s body getting closer and for a moment he thought about waking him or shoving him away. Instead, he sighed and just relaxed as he enjoyed the presence of another person sleeping so close to him. Just a few minutes later he drifted off to sleep, tired from the long journey during the day. 

When he woke up he felt the cold at the tip of his nose and gently rubbed it to warm it up. He frowned when he noticed that Albert had already gotten up and looked out of the tent to see if he was sitting at the fire but there was nobody to be seen. The fire didn’t even look like it had been tended to at all. 

He got up, stretching and popping his bones to wake and warm up a little. Albert was still nowhere to be seen but he figured that the man probably just went to do his business in peace. He sat down by the fire to bring it back to life and to make some coffee. A lit cigarette dangling from his lips he opened up a can of baked beans to heat up as well. When he was alone on the road he usually just had a cigarette and maybe some coffee to wake up in the morning but Albert had told him that he was used to a proper breakfast in the morning so he figured he could take care of that while the photographer was still busy. 

Arthur started to get worried when he had finished his cigarette and Albert still hadn’t shown up again. He got up and looked for traces of him. The bag with his camera equipment was missing but his horse - and all the other valuable things they had -  was still around so Arthur figured that they hadn’t been robbed during the night. He guessed that Albert probably had seen a pretty squirrel and just wandered off.

“What a fool,” Arthur murmured, shaking his head as he started to follow what he suspected were the other man’s footprints.

The track led him down the incline they had been camping on and towards the path that they would continue their travels on. And there he saw Albert standing, fumbling with the settings of his camera. 

“Morning, Mr. Mason,” Arthur said, loud enough to startle Albert and make him jump.

The photographer turned around to him, his chuckle sounding a little nervous after he got scared. 

“Good morning to you as well! I’ve just ah- I wanted to capture the beautiful sunrise over the river, you know? Didn’t want to wake you up.”

Arthur followed his gaze towards the river. The sun has already risen by now but the sky was still painted in pretty colours with the river glistening in the early light. Albert was right, it was a beautiful view and Arthur had a hard time to blame him. “Could’ve still woken me up, wasn’t sure where you had gone, just like that.” 

Albert seemed to be surprised about that and blinked at him for a moment. “Oh, I … didn’t think you’d be that worried about me, Mr. Morgan. Otherwise I would’ve- “ “No, no. It’s alright,” Arthur assured him and realized that it probably had been a little stupid of him to just assume the worst, especially because Albert was a grown man, after all.

After a quick breakfast they went on their way again, following the Roanoke Ridge up North. Most words between them had been spoken, so they rode in a comfortable silence, just broken once or twice when Albert pointed out a pretty tree or animal to him. Arthur usually had seen them before and if he had been alone he might’ve stopped to sketch it as well but he just wasn’t used to people he traveled with caring about the marvels of the world. 

They rested at one particular interesting tree that both of them found fascinating and while Albert set up his camera to take a picture of it, Arthur got out his journal and sketched it as well. It didn’t take long for Albert to notice the Journal and what Arthur was doing. After he w3as content with the pictures he had taken, he walked over to Arthur and asked him to have a look at his drawing. 

“It ain’t much, Mr. Mason…”

“Just let me have a look, Mr. Morgan … I really do enjoy art and I’m sure it’s wonderful.” 

With a sigh Arthur presented the journal to Albert who suddenly made surprised sound. “Oh, that IS wonderful, Mr. Morgan! You’ve captured it so well!”

Arthur felt himself blush. He wasn’t used to getting compliments like this and he felt a bit embarrassed to be praised like that for a simple sketch of a tree. “Well .. thank you. It really ain’t special, though.”

“Oh, it absolutely is. I wouldn’t be able to draw such a thing. Now, take the compliment and leave it at that, yes?”

Arthur shook his head in amusement. Albert really was a special kind of person. “Sure thing, Mr. Mason.” 

   Eventually they reached the little cabin that Arthur probably would have never found out about if it hadn’t been for the tip he had gotten. Instead of robbing the place, he had found a friend there. Someone to visit whenever he needed a break from the gang. Someone much like Albert. 

He led Albert up the path and dismounted the horse after he passed the little entryway. Charlotte had started to try and make something of the little garden and had also fixed up the fence. He wondered if she would follow her advice and get some goats for milk and meat, just to help her when hunting didn’t go well. They hitched their horses and as Arthur turned around he saw Charlotte leaving her cabin. She stopped in her tracks, probably surprised to see two horses on her property. But her face lit up as she saw him and Arthur smiled right back to her, equally happy to see her. 

“Arthur!” she called over and dropped the basket she had been carrying onto the chair on her porch. Charlotte approached them and Arthur was happy to see that she really looked well now. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were bright and she looked like she was back to a healthy weight again. “It’s good to see you here. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Albert Mason. Him an’ me are traveling up to the grizzlies to see some bears,” he explained to her. Charlotte’s face darkened in worry and Arthur, the fool that he was, suddenly remembered how Cal had died. 

“Oh, just to take some pictures of them,” Albert chimed in cheerfully. “You see, Ma’am, I’m a nature photographer and I’d like to capture the beauty of the American wildlife. So this isn’t going to be a bear hunt or anything like that.”

“Well, I hope that you stay safe…,” Charlotte said in a low voice while mostly looking at Arthur. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. But .. how can I help you?”

“I was actually on my way to check on you when I met Mr. Mason here, so … I suggested we make a break here first before heading West. If you don’t mind. Otherwise we can be on our way again, of course.” 

“No, of course I don’t mind. It’s nice to have visitors, it tends to get a little lonely here sometimes. Feel free to come in … I even got some stew on the stove that I wanted to eat after the laundry. But that can wait, I’m not the biggest fan of washing anyway,” she admitted with a cheeky smile.

As they entered the cabin Arthur noticed a stretched out grey tabby cat right next to the fireplace. It rolled around, got up and stretched before lazily walking up to Charlotte. “Did you wake up from your nap already?” Charlotte asked and picked up the cat before she kissed its head. “This is Artemis. She helps me with the rats and I share my fish with her. If I manage to catch one, that is…” The cat started to struggle a little so he let her go again. Artemis landed on her paws rather gracefully. She ignored the men in the house and sat down on a pillow that was placed in front of the fireplace. “I’ve always wanted a cat but Cal didn’t really get along with them. He also always had to sneeze and got watery eyes when he was near them, weirdly enough… I found this one a few weeks ago and she’s really great company.”  

“Well, I’m glad that she’s keeping you company,” Arthur said and pulled his gaze away from the cat who had started to stare him down like they were having a staring contest. He had never understood cats very well and usually preferred dogs over them. But he wasn’t there to judge Charlotte’s choice in pets. 

They settled around the table in the middle of the room and Charlotte got out some bowls and spoons for them. “So, how have you been, Arthur?” she asked him and gave him a small smile before she got the pot down from the stove. 

“Ah, it’s been a few busy weeks. I’m glad that I’ve got some free time to spend now. Just wandering ‘round a bit, seeing some folk.“

"You know, you‘ve never actually told me what kind of work you‘re doing,“ Charlotte mused as she served all of them a steaming hot bowl of stew. "Very few jobs offer this kind of freedom.“

Arthur had already wondered if she‘d ever ask him this question. Maybe, he had thought, she had already guessed it. Maybe she had been avoiding the question on purpose, afraid of what the answer might be. Albert also looked at him expectantly now, curious probably what kind of man he was travelling with now that it was brought up.

"I just … do some odd jobs here 'n there. Whatever brings in some money, really. So between jobs, I like to travel a bit. Means I see more than just one place of the world.“ It was the truth, even if not all of it, but it seemed to be enough for them for now. Arthur knew that even those folk who stayed on the legal path oftentimes went from job to job. It wasn‘t unusual to just go where the money was, after all. 

"Oh, that sounds so adventurous!“ Charlotte exclaimed. "You must tell me a story or two sometimes, maybe I can put something of it into my writing.“

Albert smiled at that, curious now about Charlotte as well. "Oh, you‘re an author?“

"Well, I try to be. I haven‘t published much, just a short story or two in the newspaper in Chicago. But I‘m working on my first book now and it‘s going well. It‘s like the muse has kissed me after Arthur came to my rescue.“

"He really has a habit of doing that, doesn‘t he?“ Albert said and chuckled softly.

Arthur cleared his throat and shook his head, focusing on his stew. He wasn‘t quite used to people talking like that about him. If he was praised, it usually was for his strong fists in people‘s faces or his ability to shoot someone in the head from 200 feet away. 

Albert and Charlotte eased into a conversation about Chicago and other bigger cities that they visited. Arthur had never been to any of those but to him it seemed horrible. Bigger cities like Saint Denis? That seemed like outright torture to him. More civilisation, more law, more rules to follow. No, he was content being out in the wild. And he now understood even better why both Albert and Charlotte chose to flee from all of that and built new lifes out here. Nature gave them room to breathe and to live and to just be, whereas the city restricted them.

After dinner they played a few rounds of poker. Albert had a horrible poker face and was easy to beat but Arthur was surprised to learn that Charlotte was actually really good at it. She ended up winning almost all rounds they played and smiled brightly as she stashed away the money that she won. 

"I‘ve used to play a lot with my sisters and we all had to have a good poker face for when we had some higher up guests join us for dinner,“ she explained. "But it was fun to play with you.“

It was time to sleep afterwards, and while Charlotte had a spare room in her house she only had one bed to sleep on. "'s alright, I‘ll sleep here on a bedroll.“ Arthur assured Albert after he offered to sleep on the floor multiple times. "I‘m more used to it than you, don‘t worry 'bout it.“ 

They settled in for the night and after being woken up by a purring cat who shoved her butt into Arthur‘s face twice before settling down and rolling up on his butt Arthur actually had a pretty good night‘s sleep. He was used to sleeping outside, with and without a tent, but sometimes he actually enjoyed having a real fireplace nearby and a roof above his head. 

He was up early in the morning, before Charlotte or Albert had gotten out of their rooms, so he decided to brew up some coffee for them. Charlotte actually had one of the better brands, one that he‘d probably never buy for himself, even if he loved his coffee in the morning. It was simply not a luxury that made sense when you have to feed over twenty people in a camp. He also found some eggs that he cracked open and scrambled in a pan, roasting some bread along with it. The sizzling seemed to have woken up the other people in the cabin, both Albert and Charlotte got out of their rooms shortly before the eggs were fully cooked. 

It was a peaceful, quiet moment, both of them thanking him for the coffee and sitting down on the table for breakfast. Sometimes Arthur wondered what life would be like, in a place like this. Away from society but still living in a home. A place to make his own, with people to love and care about. He loved the gang, of course, but he couldn‘t call them a family. At least not all of them and not with the way they were living right now. Always fighting, always on the run. What kind of man would he become if he had a cabin like this? If he didn‘t have to fight just to survive? If he wasn‘t wanted with a bounty that could probably feed him for a whole year? 

“So, you’ll be heading out again today?” Charlotte asked and interrupted his thoughts with that. 

He blinked for a moment to process her words, then nodded as he put bread and eggs on each of their plates. “Yeah. Don’t wanna bother ya for too long.” “Oh, don’t worry about bothering me. Both of you. I enjoy company, especially if it’s as pleasant as yours," Charlotte assured him with a smile and again Arthur thought about how different she would perceive him if she knew how he made his money. “You can also feel free to take some supplies with you. I’ve got plenty of cans to spare.”

“Oh, that would be very kind of you, Mrs. Balfour. It was definitely a pleasure meeting you. If I’m ever in the area again I might drop by,” Arthur was glad that Albert and Charlotte had gotten along to the point that he actually considered visiting her again.

And Charlotte also seemed to like the idea. “Oh, please always feel free to come and visit whenever you wish to. My door will always be open. To both of you.”

Arthur was happy that she was inviting him but unsure if he would be able to come to her much longer. Dutch had talked about all the things that he wanted to change. About Tahiti or Australia or some other island that they would do to flee the law. He knew that it was unlikely that they’d actually go that far … but he knew that at some point he should stop coming here. Just to avoid Charlotte getting dragged into something that she didn’t deserve to be dragged into. He always hated letting go of people like that but he knew that it was for the best. The only people he could keep around for long was the gang. Because they knew what they had signed up for. 

They finished their breakfast and packed some of the bread that Charlotte had baked the day before and she insisted that they had to take it with them. Arthur refused to take some of her meat though because he was “Very capable of huntin’ my own food,” and wanted her to keep it as she still was very much a beginner when it came to hunting animals. Charlotte agreed eventually and after saddling their horses they continued their travel. 

They crossed the Roanoke River alongside the train tracks, passing by that weird building with the tower that Arthur had seen when he had been around these parts before. The building had been vacant though with nobody close by so he had just let it be. There had been some expensive looking machines inside but nothing that he could’ve loaded onto the back of a horse so he had figured that breaking in wouldn’t have been worth it anyway. 

The further they got to the west, loosely following the train tracks, the more their environment changed into some rocky paths. There were less trees and the patches of forest weren’t as lush as the ones around Roanoke Ridge. It was easier to see further ahead - but also easier to be seen. Albert, of course, wasn’t worried about that - Arthur suspected that he wasn’t even aware of that. He kept chattering about Charlotte. About her lovely cabin, the beautiful waterfalls close to her home, her lovely little flower patch and her hospitality. Of course they also had to stop, again and again, for new photo opportunities. Arthur still didn’t mind it though, the trip to O’Creagh’s Run wasn’t too long of a ride and he was certain that they would make it in time to make camp right by the water. 

And Arthur had been right. The sun just started to set when they reached the lake. They approached it from the side at which the old veteran named Hamish was living. There were no lights coming from inside though and Arthur figured that it wouldn’t make sense to tell a hunting-loving man that they would go looking for some grizzlies, not if Albert wanted to take those pictures with the bears still alive.  

“What a beautiful place this is,” Albert marveled as Arthur led him around the water. He didn’t want to camp just next to the cabin, so they needed to ride a little further. “Nature really is gorgeous, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” Arthur agreed, following his gaze over the water that lay almost still in the evening light. It really was beautiful and Arthur had the urge to draw again. Instead, he looked over at Albert. “What do you think of some fish for dinner?” 

“Fish?” Albert asked. He sounded like he hadn’t expected Arthur to suggest fish for dinner at all. 

Arthur gave him a short, crooked smile before answering. “Well, these waters are great for fishing. Have pulled out some big fellas out of here. Besides, if we want to attract some bears tomorrow, some bait will be good. And nothing’s better than some fish.” “Well, then … It sounds absolutely delightful. You’ll have to show me how it’s done, though.”

They set up camp close to the water, not quite on the shore because Arthur knew how uncomfortable it was to sleep on the gravel right next to the water. They made a small fire, mostly to make sure to keep the nearby animals that were lurking away from them. Albert had already gotten better at setting up a camp and knew how to arrange the firewood so they were finished fairly quick and still had time to catch a fish. All they needed was a little luck. 

They stood at the shore next to each other, Albert holding the rod because he had requested to actually learn it. Arthur leaned in closer, correcting the grip on his hand and directing him how to throw the line out to the water. 

“I see why so many people enjoy this … it is fairly relaxing if you- oh! Oh, I think one bit!!”

The rod almost slipped out of Albert’s hand and Arthur jumped in to take over. He leaned back and reeled the line in, huffing as he felt the pull of the fish. 

“Oh, this sure is a big one, Mr. Mason …,” he said as he took a step back to have a better posture. “Can’t reel ‘m in too quick, otherwise the line will break,” he explained further as Albert hopped around on the balls of his feet to get a better look at what was in the water. The fish broke through the surface as he was fighting the pull, even more so when he was dragged closer to the shore. 

Finally he got the fish out onto the shore. He grabbed it and killed with a quick hit on the head before presenting it to Albert. “May I present you - dinner.” “Oh, that’s a salmon, isn’t it?” Albert asked, still excited and moving closer to expect the fish. “I’ve always just seen illustrations or photographs in books. And ate them, of course. But never this fresh.” “Yeah, you’re right. They’re also the grizzlie’s favourite fish. So this should be perfect.” 

He lay down the fish on a bigger stone nearby, gutted it and wrapped up the guts in a piece of cloth. Albert wrinkled up his nose, it was obvious to Arthur that he hid his disgust. He agreed that it was a rather nasty thing but it had to be done. He put the gutted salmon onto a stick and hung it above the fire to cook. 

“Alright, now we just gotta wait until it’s done. Can cut up some of the bread that Charlotte gave us and we'll have a decent enough meal.” Arthur said and stretched out his legs by the fire. “And tomorrow we’ll find some grizzlies to take a picture of.” 

“That really does sound wonderful,” Albert agreed with a soft sigh as he sat down next to him. He shared his cigarettes with Arthur and both of them watched the fire for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the darkness that started to wrap around them like a blanket, held off only by the fire. 

“So, Mr. Morgan … is this how you live?”, Albert asked. Usually those words would have sounded like a criticism, like it was something bad. But with Albert it sounded more like he was simply wondering and trying to get to know his friend a little better. 

“Most of the time, yeah. Sometimes hotel rooms, but I prefer being outside. Less rules to follow,” he said with a short smile towards Albert who chuckled softly. 

“I know what you mean, yes …” he said in a low voice. “But you’re not alone all the time, are you?” Albert’s voice was gentle, almost careful. Arthur wondered if he really wanted to know the truth or if he wanted to find out if he should start distrusting his travel companion.

Arthur took a drag from his cigarette, contemplating his answer for a moment. There weren’t many groups of people living outside, always traveling around. He was sure that Albert knew this as well as any other … and it was pretty obvious that Arthur was no circus clown, even if he felt like it sometimes. 

“No, I’m not,” he answered eventually, his voice low as well. “It can be a hard life and we’re always .. moving ‘round. But I’ve got my folk and they’ve got me.” 

There was a little smile on Albert’s face as he looked at Arthur. “And I’m glad that’s the case. Life must be awfully lonely with nobody around when you’re living on your own. Especially out in the wild. So … I’m happy to hear that I always meet you on your own because you chose to and not because you got nobody else.”

Arthur had not expected Albert to be worried about something like that of all things he could be worried about. “You really ain’t got no reason to be worried ‘bout me, Mr. Mason,” he told him with a short smile. “I’m fine. Just needing some peace and quiet from time to time.”

“And then you choose to travel with a blabbermouth like me?” Albert laughed and Arthur joined in. Albert really wasn't good at keeping quiet but he had never minded that. If all he enjoyed the things that Albert talked about and how joyful his perspective on life was. 

“Well, I tend to be a fool, you should know that by now,” he said with a grin and Albert shook his head. 

“So am I, Mr. Morgan. So am I.”

They both got hungry because of the tasty smell of the fish so Arthur cut up some slices of bread that they dunked in oil and ate with some of the oregano leaves that they could easily pick from the plants growing nearby. They added the succulent fish meat as it was done cooking, both of them enjoying the texture and the warmth in their bellies. 

With each evening, Arthur had enjoyed Albert’s company even more and it didn’t even feel awkward anymore to get into a tent with him. They slept side by side on their bed rolls and when Arthur woke up during the middle of the night because Albert had put his arm around him in his sleep he found that he didn’t even mind that. It was nice in fact to have a warm body right next to him and he dozed off again with a smile on his face. 

“Mr. Morgan! Mr. Morgan, wake up!”

Arthur felt someone gently shaking his shoulder and he opened up his eyes, blinking in the process at the early sunlight that was hitting his face. 

“There are some bear cubs!” Albert exclaimed with a shouted whisper. Arthur was awake instantly, knowing very well that cubs would always be close to a very protective mama bear. 

He got up and out of the tent to see what was happening. Roughly 70 feet away from them were actually two bear cubs playing in the water at the shore and trying to catch fish. He put on his hat and watched them warily, searching for their mother. 

Albert, on the other hand, set up his camera quicker than Arthur had ever seen him do it before to start to take some pictures of them. The clicking of the camera made the cubs look over to them and Albert mumbled something in excitement that Arthur did not understand in the slightest. 

Suddenly there was a growl behind them, Arthur turned around and saw the mother of the cubs, standing on her hind legs and glaring at them angrily. “Shit…” he said and grabbed the revolver in his holster. 

“No, don’t shoot her please!” he heard Albert plead behind him. 

“Well what ELSE would you suggest?!” Arthur hissed back to him as the mother dropped down on all fours again and started approaching them. At least she wasn’t in full attack mode yet. 

“Maybe we can … distract her, somehow?!”, Albert suggested and Arthur remembered the fish guts that were still in his satchel.

He moved slowly, not to piss her off in any way, and took the smelling bundle out of his bag. He threw it over to her, right in front of her big paws and she started sniffing it with interest. 

“‘Right, now or never …,” Arthur said and dragged Albert behind him. The photographer was clutching his camera as they slowly moved away from the camp, the bear now munching on the innards of the fish. They reached their horses and unhitched them, both Thunder and Daisy running away on their own, smart enough to know that they were in danger. “They’ll find their way back later,” Arthur assured Albert as he tried to grab Daisy’s lead. 

They moved further into the bushes, now watching the mother and her cubs on the shore from a safe distance. For once, Albert wasn’t talking and Arthur suspected that he knew very well how important it was now not to attract the bears anymore. The mother started rummaging through the things that they had left, ripping the tent and chewing up the last bit of fish bones that were left of their dinner. Eventually she decided that it was time to move on and so she did, followed up by the cubs.

Arthur took a deep breath and lit himself a cigarette to calm his nerves, offering Albert one as well who gladly took it. “Well, that was close. Hope the pictures will be worth it.” 

“Oh, I’m sure they will be. Playing cubs was so much more than I expected! Thank you again for joining me. Someday I really ought to pay you for always having my back!”

Arthur shook his head. “Ain’t no need for that, Mr. Mason. Your company is reward enough for me,” he assured him and it almost looked like Albert was blushing. 

“Well, if you say so …” he cleared his throat. “I really enjoyed traveling with you. Maybe you should really join me some time … venturing out west.”

Arthur looked back at Albert and thought about it again. He had his responsibilities. People who needed him. Who relied on him being there. But they’ve managed without him before, for a few weeks. Who said that they wouldn’t manage again? Who said that he had to spend all his life running with a gang of outlaws if he also could spend it with Albert? He found himself smiling at Albert. 

“I think you might be right, Mr. Mason.” “You know, you can call me Albert…”

He smiled again, knowing that this would only be the beginning of their friendship full of new adventures. “Albert. I’d love to join you out west.” 

[kyasarinkishinuma]

So you know how Caesar used to be this thug on the streets who use hamon? So what about one day Caesar is roaming around and he sees this girl fighting by using hamon and she just beats the absolute shit out of her opponent, Caesar sees himself in her and like tries to convince lisa lisa to like take her in or something??

This prompt is really great! Thank you for requesting this, I love the idea (as well as Caesar, he's my favourite 'side character'). I hope you'll enjoy!

Also, I changed your scenario up a bit to make it more interesting (in my opinion). I hope you don't mind!

Caesar x Reader: Rebels

Life on Lisa Lisa's island was lonely.

Caesar was the only young Hamon trainee at the time, making it fairly difficult for him to interact with anyone in his age group. Not that he minded so much, though. When he wasn't flirting with cute girls in Venice's restaurants, he preferred to be alone, meditating in his room to practice his Hamon breathing. Very few dared disturb him.

He didn't dislike it, though. Caesar had been a loner ever since his father had left his siblings and he. Sure, he had a small gang in his thug days, but those following him mostly did out of admiration. Caesar had been a powerful, feared man of the streets. He barely ever lost to anyone.

His pride wouldn't allow him to be humiliated in such a way.

But those days were over, and far from glorious. He'd never go back, now that he had taken up his bloodline's quest for the Stone Mask.

It was a past that was so far, yet so close.

And it hit him in the face, one day, when he returned to his home city, Naples.

Caesar pulled his hat over his face as he quickened his pace in his former neighbourhood. He didn't want to risk getting recognized. Yes, he had changed a lot, but he had quite a number of followers in his thug days. And most importantly, he didn't want to drive his family out of the safety of their ignorance and into his perilous quest.

Once he reached a busier street, farther off, he gave off a long breath and leaned up against a wall to calm down. It was all right. This wasn't his home anymore. No one had recognized him. He had to carry out Lisa Lisa's orders.

After having collected himself, the Italian man stood back up, going on with his business as he merged into the bustling crowd.

Until some distant screams caught his attention.

He'd recognize that kind of scream anywhere.

Try as he might, he was unable to contain his curiosity. He slipped away toward the dark alleys from which the furious yells had sounded.

He felt his heart pounding as he got closer and closer to what he knew was a street fight. He really shouldn't get involved, but he just had to see.

And when he did, hidden behind a wall, his eyes popped right out of his head.

There was a street fight, all right. But he knew one of the fighters all too well.

It was one lady against three burly men.

And yet, the males were the ones yelling.

From what Caesar had seen, the girl was really pissing them off.

"You damn woman!" The leader of the trio seethed, a vein popping out from his neck. "You're fucking crazy!"

"Just give me back what you stole and we can put this behind us," calmly spoke the woman, arms crossed over her chest. Caesar gulped. He hadn't heard that voice in ages.

The men chuckled darkly, starting to close in on their target. "You don't know what's good for you, woman. You asked for it!"

They pounced.

She jumped.

As a result, the men's heads smashed together, making them wail as they stumbled back and cursed.

"What the--- Fuck!" The woman's first victim gave out a scream as he was gracefully punched in the jaw, sending him stumbling into a rock wall. Caesar stared on with wide eyes. For her size, the lady was incredibly strong.

Growling, another man went for the lone fighter, wrapping his chunky arms around her neck from behind to choke her. Helpless against his massive form, her face rapidly turned to a cherry-like colour, although she took a deep breath.

And then, she leaned forward, somehow flipping the man over her head to make him smash onto the ground.

As he howled and writhed in pain on the alley street, she calmly came up to him and kicked him in the face with her boot, knocking him out.

Caesar couldn't believe what he was seeing. This lady was single-handedly whooping these bulky thugs' asses. He would've intervened if it had been necessary, but it looked like he'd only be a witness today.

The woman turned back toward her ultimate opponent, the trio's leader. His face was growing redder and redder by the second. He was downright furious.

"You'll pay for that, you fucking broad..." He growled lowly under his breath, hands balling into fists.

A smirk tugged at her lips. "If you want a piece of this, come get it."

That was it. That was the final straw.

The burly man charged at the last fighter with a blood-curdling scream.

The lady stood, unfazed.

She was brutally bowled over by the oversized thug's strength, falling to the ground beneath his suffocating weight.

And yet, next thing the man knew, he was flying through the air. His face smashed into the alley wall, and he crumbled to the ground with a quiet groan before he passed out.

This time, Caesar had spotted the lady's little secret.

Her legs had been shining slightly when she kicked the brute off of her. And her breathing confirmed his suspicions.

She was using Hamon.

He had seen enough. Caesar emerged from behind his wall, clearing his throat gently as to alert the woman of his presence as he approached.

When she turned to face him, ready in a fighting stance, he couldn't help but smile fondly.

You, (Y/N), had not changed.

It didn't take long for you to understand what was going on. "...Caesar?" You whispered his name weakly, staring as you struggled to believe what you were seeing. "Is that really you?"

"(Y/N), bella, you haven't changed." He came up to stand in front of you, his height forced you to tilt your head up at him, as it always had. Grinning, "But it looks like you've got some new tricks up your sleeve."

You returned the grin. "Oh, Caesar, it's really you!" You threw yourself against him for a hug, giggling as joy washed over you. "It has been so long! I've missed you. How have you been?"

"I've been well," answered your old friend, gently returning the hug. "I've left the streets to start a better life. How about you?"

You pulled back, handing him a weak smile. "Me? I'm still here, I'm just same old (Y/N). It's been a bit rough on the streets, but I'm all right..." Your voice trailed off as you noticed how intensely your former gang leader was staring at you. "Hey, Caesar, don't look at me like that. It's weird."

"O-Oh," gasped Caesar, blushing slightly as he realized what he had been doing. "Sorry, (Y/N). It's just..." He gave you a serious look. "How long have you been fighting like I did?"

"Oh, you mean how long I've had this?" You held your fist up as it sparked slightly. The sight made you grin widely in pride. "Ever since you left. I had noticed how you breathed when you fought, so I tried it myself!"

"Ahh, I see..." Seeing you so proud made Caesar smile, yet worry. Hamon was a useful but dangerous ability to have, and you didn't know that. Neither one of you heard about Hamon in the streets...

"Hey, Caesar! Hellooooo? Earth to Caesar?" Said Italian man jolted out of his thoughts as he blinked, noticing the hand you had been waving in front of his face. You were observing him, arms crossed as you pouted at him. "There you are! You know, it's rude not to listen when someone is talking to you!"

Caesar chuckled at that, focusing his bright eyes back on you. His smile was back. "I know, I know. My apologies, (Y/N). But, I must tell you something..."

His seriousness caught your attention. And so he guided you out of the dark alley to someplace safer and nicer, in a local park full of flowers.

And he told you everyone he knew about Hamon.

He left out the part about the Stone Mask. He didn't want to make you panick if it wasn't necessary.

However, he did want you to leave the streets to come and train with him.

"If you come, you will master this ability," explained your friend, gazing at you pleadingly. "(Y/N), please. I want you to come with me. Come and start a new, better life."

You gave a long sigh as you struggled to process all of this new information. So Caesar and you weren't the only ones who wielded this power? It was a power that had been carried down from generation to generations by Hamon masters...

But he was asking you to leave Naples, the only home you knew. You had never been beyond this city, you knew nothing else of this world. Could you really just leave with him?

He was your best friend, yes, but... This was where you belonged.

You nodded solemnly after a moment, looking at your friend sadly. "I'm sorry Caesar, but... I can't come with you."

*****

Caesar could no longer live with his past. Not when he knew you were out there, living in dark, rat-infested alleys. Not when he knew you could be here, training with him.

He needed his friend by his side. Especially when Joseph Joestar arrived, dooming them both to fight the Pillar Men.

Caesar needed you to lean on.

He pleaded Lisa Lisa to take you in. He promised he'd work harder, he promised he'd protect the Red Stone with his life.

But Lisa Lisa would only ever shake her head.

"Caesar, we cannot force her to come here. You must understand."

He knew that. But he didn't want to accept it.

He wanted to see his best friend's face, one more time.

But he never got the chance.

*****

A bouquet of flowers. That was all that was left of Caesar, brought to you by Joseph Joestar.

Your world crumbled around you at the tragic news. And suddenly, you oh so regretted not agreeing to his offer, back when he had seen you a few years ago. What if you could've saved him? What if you could've died in his place?

You grew miserable. You grew depressed.

Naples no longer felt like home, now that Caesar's memories no longer breathed into it.

No, Caesar's memory was now elsewhere, you understood.

It was in the sparks your Hamon produced.

And you'd keep his memory alive, you decided.

Even if it meant starting all over like he had.

[END]

[sukifans]

PET • RI • CHOR

[n] a pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

A/N: uhhh so i guess i’m writing fic again for the first time since i was like 15 thanks to quarantine. here’s a snippet of a zuko x oc i’ve been writing to gauge interest ig. i used to write h*rry p*tter fic and post it to a fan account i had and it got pretty popular even though it was garbage so... let’s see. here is my hat, it is in the ring 🎩 also thanks @beifongsss for answering my anon ask and being my first (and maybe only) tag lmao 🥴

⏎ MASTERLIST // PROLOGUE i » PROLOGUE ii

“I like your hair loopies.” The voice made her jump and throw the water she had been trying to bend from the pond at its source behind her. “Hey!”

Kena turned and saw a young boy about her age in red silk pajamas now soaked in water. His long black hair hung limply around his face, dripping. “Tui’s gills, you scared me! You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I splashed you.”

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, throwing water droplets everywhere. They both giggled.

“I can try to help, but I’m not very good yet. Here.” She waved her arms and hands in a waterbending stance, drawing water out of his clothes and hair. She pulled some out and discarded it back into the pond, but the poor boy was definitely still wet. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, dropping her hands.

“That was so cool! I’ve always wanted to see waterbending in person.” His face lit up, golden eyes sparkling. She blushed and looked at her feet. “Sometimes I wish I was a waterbender. But what are you doing here?”

Her face was dark when she looked up at him again. “The Fire Nation invaded my village and took me and my mom as prisoners because we’re healers. She tells me we’re lucky to be alive since they’ve been wiping out waterbenders. I don’t know, though; I think I’d rather be dead than be a servant for some snooty royal.” She aimed a kick at a small pebble and launched it into the pond. “Now I’ll probably never see my dad, or my brothers, or my friends ever again.”

“Oh,” the boy said meekly, looking away. “I’m sorry that happened.” He didn’t know what to say to the girl.

“Yeah, me too,” she grumbled. There was silence for a moment before the boy smiled hesitantly again.

“I’ll be your friend here, if you’d like.”

The tension in her small body loosened when she slowly grinned at him. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. You seem alright, for a Fire Nation kid.”

“Thanks, I think,” he laughed. “What’s your name?”

“Kena. Well, that’s my real name. When they brought us here some weird guy told me my new name would be Ariye.”

“I like Kena better for you.”

“Me too. Ariye is a dumb name. I told him that but he got mad. What’s yours?”

“Oh, I’m-“ he started, flushing, then paused and looked behind him. “Someone’s coming. Go, hide!”

“What about you? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“No, no! It’s fine! Just go!” He shooed her away and she finally complied, diving into a patch of brush just as someone rounded the corner in the distance. She was about to make her escape when she paused to listen in.

“Prince Zuko,” a woman’s voice chided, “why are you out of bed so late?”

Wait, Prince Zuko? He’s a prince?

“I couldn’t sleep so I came out to see the turtleducks,” Zuko said. It wasn’t entirely a lie, after all — that had been his intention.

“Why are you all wet?”

“I... slipped, and fell in the water.”

The woman sighed. “Prince Zuko, you must be more careful. Come along, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” Kena slipped away as her voice got fainter and eventually disappeared from earshot. She felt incredibly stupid for going on and on about the invasion and how much she disliked being here to the prince of all people. She was surely in for it now. Her mother had always said her mouth would get her into trouble if she didn’t control it. A glimmer of hope rose in her chest, though, because Zuko had seemed really... well, nice. He didn’t rat her out or get upset when she spoke poorly of royals even though he apparently was one. Maybe not all the people of the Fire Nation were so bad... just most of them.

The next night, Zuko snuck back out to the turtleduck pond in the hopes of seeing the girl again. He was absolutely fascinated by her — she was probably the only person he knew who wasn’t, as she had said, “some snooty royal,” or someone who worked for one. That, and she was definitely the only waterbender he knew. He loitered in the grass for a long time before giving up and going back to bed. This cycle repeated for a week with no luck. Kena had said her and her mother were healers, so maybe he’d be able to find her in the infirmary. Now, just to come up with some sort of excuse to go there...

Kena nearly felt like dropping dead when a familiar boy walked into the infirmary, escorted by a servant. His eyes brimmed with tears and he was sniffling softly, holding one hand in the other delicately. Reluctantly and with her face burning, she bowed with her mother.

“Prince Zuko, what happened?” the older woman asked, leading him to sit on a cot in the corner of the room.

“Azula b-burned my hand,” Zuko whimpered, showing her his reddened skin. Kena’s mother tutted and waved her daughter over.

“Prince Zuko, this is my daughter, Ariye,” the woman said, smiling as she smoothed Kena’s hair. Kena bowed again, mostly to avoid looking directly at him.

“Nice to meet you.” Zuko beamed and she nodded stiffly, looking at a spot on the wall above his shoulder.

“You as well, Prince Zuko,” she responded quietly. “Do you need anything, Mom?”

“Yes. Can you get the burn salve while I heal what I can, my love?” Kena nodded again and scurried away as soon as she had the excuse. Zuko watched her as she searched cabinets at the other end of the room, snapping his eyes down to his hand when he felt the cool wetness of water against his skin. Kena’s mom was holding his hand with both her own, bending water around his seared flesh. His mouth dropped open a bit when the water started to glow. After a few moments, Kena’s mom pulled her hands back and bent the water away as the girl returned with a small tin in her grasp. He frowned when she still refused to look at him directly.

“Thank you, my dear,” her mother said. “Can you put some on the prince’s hand while I talk to Miss Sana?” She tilted her head to indicate the servant that had brought Zuko in who was standing on the other side of the bed he sat in.

“Yes, Mom.” Kena sat on the bed across from him as her mother stood and walked away with Sana. Zuko grinned again once he was certain the adults were out of immediate earshot.

“Hi, Kena,” he said, waving at her with his injured hand. It was no longer a blistering red, but the skin was still a bit stiff and dry. The salve would help with that, he assumed.

She furrowed her brow. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you again. I waited by the pond in the gardens for a few nights but you never came back.”

“You did this on purpose?”

“Yep!” he said, obviously proud of his cunning plan. When she rolled her eyes, though, he deflated.

“That was dumb,” she scoffed. Her bluntness shocked him. Nobody ever talked to him, the prince, like that. Well, except Azula. But she was mean to everyone.

“What do you mean?” He looked obviously distressed and even a bit irritated. “I let Azula burn me so I could talk to you again!”

“You should’ve just pretended you felt sick or something,” she said like it was the simplest thing in the world. And really, it was. Zuko felt a bit silly now for all his dramatics.

“Oh,” he said. His cheeks were bright pink. Kena finally gave him a small grin as she gently held his hand, slathering the salve onto his skin. “Your hands are cold.”

“And your hands are warm.”

“Because I’m a firebender.”

“Well, I’m a waterbender.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense. It feels nice, though.” They were quiet for a few minutes while Kena delicately massaged in the weird paste. “Can we still be friends?” he asked suddenly. She looked up at him, startled.

“You still want to be friends with me?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re super cool!”

She blushed. “Even though I said that mean stuff about royals and all that?”

“I mean, you weren’t wrong. A lot of people around here are snooty.”

She thought it over for half a second. “Yeah, we can be friends. Like I said before, you’re not so bad, for a Fire Nation kid.” They smiled at each other, and it was settled.

A/N: i don’t know how to write dialogue for kids... anyways if this gets attention i might post more because i write when work is slow so! feel free to send me an ask/dm/reply/carrier pigeon. also sorry for the long post, mobile is ass and won’t let me do a read more cut ~~

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Dangerous

Natasha Romanoff x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine: Everyone tells you not to get involved with Natasha because she’s dangerous but you don’t see it until you get kidnapped. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: kidnapping  

Masterlist

You groaned as you woke up in the morning from Natasha’s alarm at god knows how early in the morning. You felt her sitting up to get out of bed and you reached out your arm to grab her hand, “No stay, I want my morning cuddles.” You heard her laugh and you slowly opened your eyes to look at her, how did she look so good first thing in the morning? You pouted and Natasha leaned down to kiss you, “You can get your morning cuddles later, go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up when I’m done training okay?” You whined but nodded, wrapping your arms around your pillow to act as a Natasha substitute. You closed your eyes to go back to sleep and you heard the bedroom door click shut. 

Natasha was so sweet with you, it was very difficult to believe that people were scared of her. But when the two of you when public with your relationship, that’s all people kept telling you, “You’re with her? I hope you stay safe,” “Natasha? Don’t you know how dangerous she is?” “Are you serious? You two? She’ll rip you apart if you piss her off.” You had chosen to ignore them, you believed that they were just jealous of your relationship and wanted to break you up so Natasha was single again. 

You had no reason to believe them, yes she was strong and a great fighter but she was one of the most affectionate people you’ve ever met. You loved her and she loved you so you didn’t care what other people had to say about it. You weren’t going to leave her just because some people are afraid of her, that would be stupid. 

You smiled to yourself as you felt yourself being gently pulled closer to someone. Peeking open your eyes, you caught a glimpse of familiar red hair, “Hello again, back so soon?” Natasha chuckled, “I’ve been gone for a few hours, you were just asleep.” You stuck your tongue out at her and she pulled a face of fake shock, “Oh really? That’s how you want to treat your girlfriend?” You squealed as you felt her hands tickling your sides, trying to squirm away from her but she had you held in place with her legs intertwined with yours. “Okay! I’m sorry, you win.” Natasha grinned, leaning down to kiss you, “I always win, now what’s my prize.” 

You blushed a little as you felt her hands sliding under your pajama shirt. It was still a little surreal that someone as hot as Natasha was interested in you, no matter how many times she told you that you were perfect in her eyes. The sex helped a lot, but there were still moments where you thought you might not deserve someone as good as her. She had told you once that she felt the same way about you and it had blown your mind that she didn’t think she was good enough for you. 

Just as things were starting to heat up, JARVIS broke through the sound of heavy breathing and soft moans, “Miss Romanoff, Mr Rogers requires your presence in the lobby.” You mentally cursed Steve for ruining your moment with Natasha as she regretfully pulled away from you, kissing your neck, “Looks like we’ll have to continue this later, babe.” You smiled at her as she put her shirt back on, “You’ll text me when you’re on your way back?” She nodded, “Of course I will, I’ll be back soon. I love you,” “I love you too,” you mumbled to yourself as she had already left the room. 

You stayed in bed for another thirty minutes, spending time just flicking through your phone, mostly twitter and some texts that you had from Tony, who had an obsession with sending you memes of Steve and Clint that he found online. When your stomach started growling, that’s when you knew it was time to get up and go get something to eat. You got up and walked out of your bedroom and headed to the kitchen, not bothering to get dressed, you were fine in your baggy shirt and grey shorts. 

It was weird for the Tower to be so quiet, usually there was someone about, whether it was Clint paying games on an Xbox, Bucky and Steve watching movies from their very long list Tony insisted they need to watch, Peter following around Tony like a lost puppy, Bruce doing some kind of science, etc. At the very least, JARVIS usually had some music playing but it was silent. All you could hear was your own breathing and it freaked you out a little bit. “JARVIS?” Your voice gave away your nerves and it only got worse when you got no response. You tried to calm down, it was probably nothing right? Maybe it was Clint playing a prank on you? 

You walked into the kitchen and had been about to open the fridge when a hand was clamped over your mouth and an arm was slung around your waist. You tried to shout but it just came out as muffled grunts. Twisting your body in all different ways didn’t seem to be helping you get free and you were pushed into the kitchen island. The few seconds you stilled as you dealt with the pain of impact gave your attacker the perfect opportunity to inject you with something. You tried to move away from them but your movements became very slow and your limbs felt so heavy. 

Your eyesight started to blur and you felt the person behind you let go of you but you were too drowsy to run away or do anything. You tried to look at who was in front of you but all you saw was a large black blur. You felt yourself being lifted just as your eyes closed and you drifted into unconsciousness. 

. . .

A heavy pounding was in your head as you woke up, groaning from the pain. You tried to reach your hand up to touch your head but you were restricted. You blinked a couple times as you waited for your vision to come back to you before looking around the room you were in. You were tied to a chair that was bolted to the ground and the room looked like it was made of concrete you guessed, with nothing on the walls apart from the one in front of you. There was a window and a plain door. You tested your restraints by shifting around on the chair but the zip ties wouldn’t break, keeping your arms and legs to the chair. 

You were alone in the room for about a hour, left alone with your thoughts when you saw someone walk past the window and seconds later the door clicked and you watched it open and close behind a man you had never seen before. You didn’t say anything and tried your best to keep a straight face but he probably knew just by looking at you that you were scared. You’d never been in a situation like this before and you weren’t sure how to react. 

The man smiled at you, “So sorry we had to meet like this Miss (L/N), but we’ve received information about your relationship with a Miss Romanoff. We’ve been waiting for her to show a weakness for quite some time and here you are. It was strange to see that you were so easily taken, for a moment, I suspected we were wrong about you. Who leaves their loved ones so unprotected.” 

You knew what he was doing, he was just trying to get inside your head. You knew that Natasha loved you and she thought you were safe in the Tower, this wasn’t her fault. You continued to keep silent, you had no intention of saying anything to him. He tutted, “If you cooperate and tell us what we need to know, you won’t be harmed. Fail to do so and.. consequences will be provided, understand?” You kept still and kept your mouth shut, you weren’t going to tell him anything, no matter what he did to you. 

He sighed and looked down to adjust his tie and shirt before looking back at you, “It’s in your best interests to cooperate Miss (L/N), you wouldn’t want your girlfriend to get hurt now would you?” “Go to hell!” You glared at him, you’d be damned if you were just going to let them hurt Natasha or use her to blackmail you. He smirked, “Ah so she speaks, now you’re going to tell me everything I need to know about Natasha Romanoff and the so called ‘Avengers’ and maybe we’ll let you leave in one piece, hm? I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

You watched as he left the room, keeping your head held high until you were sure he wasn’t anywhere near you before you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. You had never been more terrified in your life, what was going to happen to you? Would you ever going to get out of here and see Natasha again? Your family? Friends? You took a deep breath to try to calm you down before you completely started panicking. 

You had been left alone in that room for a long while now and you were tired, hungry, cold and your muscles were sore from being kept in the same position for ages. If it couldn’t get any worse, that’s when you heard the gunshots. They were muffled from how thick the walls were in this place but you still heard them. You felt your heart race faster and faster as they got closer and closer and you kept a close eye on the window. 

A scream left your mouth as you watched someone get shot right outside your window and then a familiar face looked inside. You were so relieved to see Natasha’s face. She kicked open the door and rushed over to you, pulling a knife out to cut the ties holding you down to the chair. You started crying again, feeling so happy to see her, “I was so scared, but I didn’t tell them anything I promise.” Natasha held you against her as you cried, “Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now. Let’s get you home.” 

You sniffed and let her help you stand up, your muscles aching after sitting down for so long and being knocked out. You walked out of the door and you felt uncomfortable since you didn’t have any shoes on but it was a price you would gladly pay to get out of there. You covered your mouth as you saw blood all over the walls and some on the floor, all around dead bodies as Natasha held your hand and dragged you out the building. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked around, “D-Did you do this?” Natasha turned to look at you, “They took you from me, they had to pay.” It felt wrong to blush from her words but you did anyway, she sounded so possessive and you didn’t want to admit it but you liked it. Natasha saw how you reacted and smirked, pulling you closer to her, “You like this side of me don’t you?” You couldn’t speak, not finding the strength to say anything so you just weakly nodded. 

Natasha grinned as she hurried quicker to pull you to safety in the form of a quinjet that was waiting outside for you two. As soon as the doors closed behind you two and the pilot took off, you felt a lot safer. Natasha sat next to you and wrapped her arms around your waist, “I promise you that you will never have to go through this again. I will keep you safe this time, I’m so sorry baby.” You saw how badly this was affecting her and you turned to lean into her embrace, “It wasn’t your fault, I’m just glad to be back with you.” 

When you were back at the Tower, the first thing you did was go get something to eat from the kitchen, you were starving. You didn’t care that Natasha wanted you to get checked over by Bruce for any injuries, you hadn’t eaten anything all day, or however long you were gone for. You had started eating a sandwich you made when you felt yourself being picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulders, but you recognised that behind, “Steve! Traitor.” He chuckled, “Sorry doll, Nat’s orders.” You groaned as you were carried down to Bruce’s office, “I thought you were the leader?” Steve shrugged, “So did I.” 

It didn’t take long for Bruce to do a few simple tests and once you were given the all clear, you left to go to your bedroom to see Natasha sitting on the bed, looking as though she was waiting for you. “Bruce gave me the all clear so no need to worry.” Natasha didn’t say anything, she just stood up and walked over to you until she had you pressed against the door, “You know you’re mine don’t you?” You blushed and nodded, “Mhm, I’m yours.” Natasha grinned, “Well it seems some people still don’t so it looks like I’ll have to make it more obvious for them.” 

You gasped as you were pushed over to the bed and onto your back, Natasha was on top of you within seconds, kissing you passionately. Yeah okay, so she might be very dangerous, but you loved her and it was kinda hot.