#doo I dare tag everyone here….

[katstuckintree]

I DID IT! I DID A MEME!

My gods, my hand hurts… Anyways here’s the list

Current Favorite = Uzi and N from Murder Drones

Comfort Character = Dante from Devil May Cry

By Design = Beerus From Dragon Ball Z

By Plot = Aerith Gainsborough from Final Fantasy 7

Guilty Favorite = Shadow the Hedgehog from Sonic

All Time Favorite = Toothless from HTTYD

Original meme under the cut

[hardlystrictlystarwars]

Not my Miguel || Miguel O'hara Angst

Miguel O'Hara x F!Mother!Reader

Spiderman 2099 saved you from your universe as it crumbled with everyone else being destroyed. He took you to his headquarters for safety. Only it wasn't your Miguel. 

Warnings: Angst, language, probably some spelling errors, and spoilers if you haven't seen the movie.

A/N: I haven't posted in a while and I don't know if my tags are working. Hopefully you all like!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

You looked through old memories on your computer. Photos of you, Gabriella and Miguel. All smiles and not a care in the world. Looking back, it seems foolish you couldn’t tell your Miguel from the one that replaced him. Six months went by in a blink of an eye and you hardly questioned your husband’s identity. All the little changes never carried into doubts in your mind. Like how he suddenly knew how to cook, he arrived on time to everything instead of being fifteen minutes late as usual, and most importantly, he was obsessed with your daughter. 

Sure he adored her before, but one day he came home from the bank and he was suddenly dialed up to eleven. He always insisted on picking her up from school, making sure her ponytails were perfect for soccer practice, and Sundays were reserved for high tea at noon in pink frilly dresses and tiaras. 

It was too perfect to be true. 

He wasn’t your Miguel. 

Yet here you were still with him. 

You heard him come through the door of your apartment. The apartment he put you up in after your universe fell apart. It had all the doo-dads and fancy gadgets that you had talked about wanting in your dream home. Something you had told him half-asleep, not even thinking it would ever be your reality. 

He gave you one of the first prototypes for the bracelet, or rather handcuffed it onto you and called it a day. 

No more cooked dinners after the end of a long day at work, no more strolls through the park or ice cream dates. That Miguel that you had known for six months was seemingly gone. Wiped from existence and replaced by a reclusive, detached shell of himself. 

“How was your day?” You asked in a quiet tone. Words that he still heard because your apartment had been eerily quiet since he brought you here. 

“Fine,” Miguel grunted, before starting to walk off. 

“Wait, Miguel!” You turned towards him, having to get something off your chest. He was only a few feet away from him, but it might have well been an ocean sized gap separating the two of you.

 “I was thinking, or well, I had come up with an idea, or more of a proposal,”

“Yeah?” He turned around to you.

“I don’t really have a role here, so I was thinking that maybe, you could find me a universe that doesn’t have me in it and I could go live there?” The words came out of your mouth in fragments and you prepared for the worst outrage.

“No,” 

“No?” You questioned.

“No,” He replied. 

“Why not?”

“That’s not how the multiverse works,”

“But maybe in a universe where I died or-or one that-”

“I said no!” He raised his voice. 

“Miguel, that’s not fair,” You snapped back, “You won’t even try? I-I don’t fit in here, I’m not a spider-man, person, cat, dinosaur, or whatever,”

“I did it before and I lost Gabriella,” He replied, “I won’t lose you too, not again,” 

You paused hearing those words and glared at him.

“You lost Gabriella? Just you? Not, we lost Gabriella? It was only you? Only you suffered the consequences of losing a daughter? Is that what you're saying?” You questioned him, 

“That’s not what I meant,” He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Miguel! She wasn’t just yours- she wasn’t even yours!” You shouted.

“Don’t you dare say that!” He yelled back, “You know how good of a father I was to her, I was much better than the alternative,”

“And what exactly would that be, huh?” You often thought of what would’ve happened had Miguel never taken Miggy’s place. What your life would be now. 

“I saved you, don’t forget that,” Miguel said, towering over you.

“Yeah? Where would we be if it wasn’t for Spider-Man?” You asked him, “Where would Gabriella be?”

[palimpsessed]

Writerly Ephemera

I was tagged by @amywaterwings @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @effing-numpties @captain-aralias @bloodiedpixie . This is so cool, so thanks for sharing yours! ❤️

Per Amy: We add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

I don’t really feel like I put much of my own experiences into my fic, probably because I don’t feel like I have a lot of experiences to pull from. (That’s not me being self-deprecating; that’s me never going anywhere or doing anything.) So, let’s see what we come up with!

Going to tag here. I feel like I’ve gotten to this late so I’m not sure who has been tagged. Anyway. No pressure, loves. Just saying hi. 🥰 @theflyingpeach @bazzybelle @otherworldsivelivedin @unseelieseelie @wetheformidables @caitybug @nightimedreamersworld @foolofabookwyrm @stillmadaboutpetra

1. I have put the most of myself into A Man of Letters. I have my degree in English Lit and when I was in college, I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. So I sort of built my degree around the development of the English novel. My senior thesis was on a book called Evelina by Frances Burney, who was one of Austen’s greatest literary influences. Evelina is an epistolary novel—told entirely in letters. I love the epistolary form, for the same reason I love dialogue and texting fics. It’s such a fun narrative technique and can reveal so much about individual characters. It’s actually a bit like the way Rainbow Rowell uses multi POV in her books. Anyway, my love of the epistle was on full display in this fic, which is ofc told in letters. —Do I share a passage? That’s like...the whole fic 😅 So, idk. Here’s Simon being a disaster as he meditates on letter writing:

Dear Penny,

As I start this letter, I already know I'm not going to post it. I know I won't be able to bring myself to do it, because of what I have to say to you. I do feel bad. It's not that I don't want to tell you. And you know I'm so much better at writing things down than saying them out loud. It's only that I feel like this would all sound better coming from me in person. I just don't think I'll be able to make you understand in a letter. I'm still trying to understand myself. And writing all of this down helps me with that. Even if I'm only pretending to write to you, it makes me feel better, to think of you on the other end. I promise I really will tell you everything as soon as we're together again.

2. Also for A Man of Letters, my fascination with Regency fashions, in particular the dandy, was a major factor. I did an art book about this, comparing how fashion has changed over time, especially in regard to gender. (I also did an art book based on Evelina, since I’m on the subject. I minored in book art. 😁) I always fancied the look of a Regency dandy, so that was my gift to Baz.

Whoever has been working their magic on Salisbury should in fact be the person to whom I offer my eternal devotion. Alas, I am left to flounder under the burden of lusting after a man who is incapable of dressing himself.

The utter and unmitigated shame.

Salisbury wore a forest green wool frock coat that set off the golden highlights in his brown locks. This was accented with a green and aubergine striped silk waistcoat that was trimmed in white piping and felt much too daring a pattern for the man. (I don't care if he was a soldier; it takes a hardier man than him by half to choose a stripe like that.) His charcoal trousers were enticingly snug, but not so much to prove lethal. His cravat and points left much to be desired, though that likely reflected poorly on his ability to keep himself in order, rather than the ability of his valet. (Good God, maybe the man doesn't even have a valet!)

3. When it came to my countdown fic, To the Manor Borne, I had Shep make a reference to Cluedo, because Pitch Manor would be perfect for a real life game. Behind that, is the fact that my family played a lot of Clue and I watched the movie a whole bunch growing up, to the point where my sister and I used to quote it to each other. This was a way to pay homage to that. He also talks about playing the game Murder in the Dark, which was one I played at Halloween as a kid. One of my cousins was dressed as a ghoul with glow in the dark face paint and we were in my grandma’s creepy upstairs. Perfect vibes.

I’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room and the library and the study and the parlor. Walking through this house is like playing Clue. (They call it Cluedo on this side of the pond, because they like to be difficult.) (That was a whole thing. Do not get me started.)

I keep thinking Colonel Mustard’s going to pop up out of nowhere and brain me with a lead pipe.

And:

What kind of games do you play with magickal friends who don't have magic? Twister? Not with the wings and tail. Cards? Baz and Penny would cheat. Or accuse everyone else of cheating if they didn't win. Murder in the dark? With these people, in this house, I knew it would turn literal fast, and also it was like ten in the morning. Hide and seek? Simon and I would hide and everyone else would ditch. Snowball fight? World War III.

4. I’ve referenced Mozart in my fics a couple of times because when I was first getting into classical music, I was listening to a lot of Mozart. My sister had a CD of some of his early symphonies, and my local classical station does “Mozart in the Mornings” which happened to fit in the exact time slot between two morning classes I had my first year in college. I’d go sit in my car with a cup of tea, and just vibe with Mozart as my soundtrack. I’ve name dropped him in both A Man of Letters and To the Manor Borne. Also, Mozart wrote 12 variations on the melody shared by Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which is a lovely tie in. (I also had the gang sing/cast The Holly and the Ivy, which is one of my favorite Christmas carols, and by strange coincidence was playing on the radio at the same time I wrote that scene. 🥰)

"It's a songbook," I tell him, like he can't figure that out for himself. "Did you know that Mozart wrote twelve different versions of the same song?"

He's laughing. "Mozart did not write Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Simon."

"You know what I mean."

"He composed twelve variations for solo piano on the French folk melody Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman."

"Sure. Anyway, this is for the violin. For you to play."

He's still laughing, and I'm trying to figure out what's so funny, but then he kisses me again, on the lips this time, so I figure maybe I'm still doing okay.

Only one more to go! What will it be? 👀

5. Therapy! Eheheh...😅 Look, it’s no secret the gang needs it. And tbh, so do I. Haven’t actually managed to get myself to go yet, and I think that’s where a lot of my “send them to therapy” happy endings come from. I did it in Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne. I started Chamber by Chamber with SnowBaz already in therapy, and then structured the whole thing around therapy that they give to each other and to themselves. It didn’t really fit in A Man of Letters, but if it had, I absolutely would have done it. I’ve only shared from two fics so far, and since it could kind of spoil the ending to Use Your Words (tho saying this may be spoiler anyway...), here are two snippets from It’s a Kind of Magic, Part I of Chamber by Chamber.

I've been working on articulating my needs. We both have. Ordinarily, I'd be afraid of pushing him away by making demands when he's on the verge of a spiral, but my therapist insists that I can't go on treating Simon with kid gloves. If I never ask him for anything, he'll think he doesn't have anything to give.

And

When I told that to my therapist, she said that I needed to talk it out of me and she'd help me find ways to work through it all. She said I needed to talk it out with Baz, too, so that he'd know how to help me when things got bad again—that was something else she said, that things would get bad again, and that I'd need to be prepared for that. That I couldn't expect things to be easy, and just go away.

6. BONUS! I think the biggest way I include bits of myself is in the AUs I’ve chosen to write. I have three I’m planning that say a lot about me, so I’m going to talk a bit about them here. There is ofc my Scooby Doo AU, inspired in large part by the fact that I watched it all the time growing up and also, my sister continues to be obsessed with it. When we were young, my parents were doing a lot of work on their house and we’d take family trips to the hardware store. My sister and I hated it, so we’d wait in the car with my mom and she would entertain us with “Scooby Doo stories”. Other AUs I’m planning? Troop Beverly Hills—please tell me someone else out there loved this movie the way I did when I was 5. It was very influential to baby me and I remember wishing for nothing more than being able to dress like Shelley Long. So, I’m going to let Baz do it, because I think he deserves it. 🥰 Lastly, tho it will probably be the first I write, is my Cupid and Psyche AU, from when I was heavy into mythology and religion. Since these are all forthcoming projects, I don’t really have a snippet. Instead, here’s Baz comparing Simon to Eros, which is what started my brain on that particular AU.

I am lost. I barely know anything about Salisbury, but I can't help being drawn in. At one time, I could have comforted myself that I was only so smitten with him because he looks like he was sculpted by Praxiteles. That excuse grows weaker with every encounter. He's the furthest thing from a lifeless tribute to beauty in marble as one can be. There is something deep and dark and feral inside of him and I want to claw it out. I want to see it, to let it free. To taste his wildness and his pain.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 3

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi's Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo

Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we're all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone's well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila's brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit

Summary: Marinette gets serious.

Notes: This fic is 3 comments away from the 1K comment milestone on AO3!

AO3 link

Chapters 1-2

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In comparison to Jagged, who was coming up with more and more ridiculous ideas—getting a pet crocodile, for instance, which made it seem he wanted Adrien to be a mini-him—Marinette was positively sedate when Adrien came back into the lounge. She was seated primly with a notebook she’d found somewhere.

She looked up at him, quirking a smile. “We need to be serious about this if we’re going to win.”

Jagged let out an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, being serious is so not rock n’ roll.”

Adrien blinked. “Win?”

“Beat your dad at his own game. Manipulating public perception.” Marinette gestured to the notebook, which had a list. “We have fifteen hours before the announcement hits the news, about, if it’s meant to be released at nine tomorrow morning. That gives us some time. Not much, but some.”

He sat down, browsing the list.

Non-Lila fake relationship (call Nadja Chamack)

Not skunk hair – black w/ green tips?

Expose Lila – make her inconvenient (no more photoshoots)

Jagged read out loud over his shoulder, adding commentary like, “Wait, you know Nadja Chamack, too?” and “Yeah, I guess that’d look better” and “I’m in!” The last one regarding Lila.

“I texted Penny to come back so we can make the plans more cohesive before moving to clothes,” Marinette said as he handed back the notebook.

“Should I tell the hotel to hold off on the hair, too?” Jagged asked. At Marinette’s nod, he moved across the room to the phone.

Adrien was stunned that she had, in the course of one conversation he’d had in the bathroom with Plagg, come up with something that would look less haphazard.

“But who would I have a fake relationship with?”

The idea made him uneasy. It felt a lot like what his dad was doing.”

She bit her lip. “Um, not me. But someone who knows Lila is toxic and is willing to help us. The only reason for it is to make it look like your dad is trying to break you and this person up, or is embarrassed or something.”

Adrien winced. “I mean, I don’t want to use someone like that. It’d be easiest to choose a guy, since Father wouldn’t dare upset the LGBTQ+ community with him being in the fashion industry, but it’d be a little disrespectful to the community, wouldn’t it?”

Marinette was quiet for a bit. “I… I don’t know. I’m, um… I identify as bi, but… Maybe if you basically said it was a relationship to explore your sexuality? Like with someone who’s also a friend?”

“But… I don’t think I know anyone who’d be willing to do that.

Realistically, everyone in their class was under Lila’s thumb. Another celebrity would make it weird. Other models might be concerned about a future modeling for Gabriel.

Jagged butted in. “Weren’t you jamming with Anarka’s boy that one time?”

Adrien blinked. “Luka?”

“He might be willing to help—and you could promote Kitty Section, too. Make that part of your outfit.” For some reason, Marinette’s cheeks had turned pink. “Um, is it okay if I text him and get him to come?”

Honestly, Adrien had been a bit jealous of Luka when he’d wielded the Snake so well after Adrien’s failure—but Plagg had pointed out that it just meant he was a better Black Cat. And he was fond of the older boy, who had welcomed him into the band even though his father wouldn’t let him play often.

“I think… yeah. Let’s talk to him. Hopefully he’s not fooled by Lila’s act.”

“He’s not,” Marinette said darkly. “I, uh, told him after she got me expelled and almost Akumatized.”

“No!” Jagged jumped up. “I can’t believe she hurt you so bad! Oh, she’s got to go down!”

Penny just so happened to walk in at that moment. “Who?”

“That Lila girl almost got our talented, wonderful Marinette Akumatized, Penny! We can’t have that.” Jagged sprawled against his part of the circular sofa dramatically. “She’s, like, my muse!”

Marinette turned beet red. “I-I’ll just text Luka and ask him to come here.”

She pulled her phone way closer to her face than was necessary. Adrien thought it was cute that she got flustered whenever someone reminded her of her accomplishments—she was so modest, unlike Lila.

Penny, for her part, rolled her eyes at the dramatics, but smiled. “Adrien, can you run through a list of her lies? I might be able to get more people on board, since she seems to like to steal fame.”

Adrien nodded, listing staying with Prince Ali of Achu, being best friends with Ladybug, Jagged Stone’s kitten and song for her, and knowing Steven Besielberg and other Hollywood directors.

“She even told our friend Nino she would introduce him to Steven Besielberg, and he wants to be a filmmaker,” he finished. “And those are just the ones I’ve heard—she probably has more.”

Jagged broke in. “I wrote one for Ladybug after she saved me, and Mariette inspired a song, but I’d never write her a song, even as a take-down. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Penny was writing on her pad. “I can get in touch with Steven Besielberg, at least. That should be interesting.”

“Luka’s on his way,” Marinette broke in. “And, uh, I just realized my idea for your hair would match his… So maybe that was a sign?”

Adrien smiled. “At least that I should also spend time playing with Kitty Section again.”

Penny cleared her throat. “Adrien, do you have control of your official social media?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Kind of? My father has the password for both my email and my social media accounts.”

She nodded, and gestured to a laptop on a nearby desk. “Change them while we wait for M. Couffaine. I’ll help you make sure he can’t regain control.”

By the time they finished, Luka had arrived. Adrien and Marinette worked to explain the situation to him; the blond could tell by the look on his face, as though he’d just smelled something nasty, that Luka knew of and wasn’t fond of Lila.

He hadn’t even gotten to asking him, when the older boy abruptly nodded. “A fake relationship. Something your father can’t protest without looking bad. I’ll do it, so long as we take down Lila, too.”

Adrien grinned. “Already in the works.”

Marinette, though, looked worried. “Has she done something?”

Luka scowled. “She’s been trying to make things weird between Juleka and Rose lately. It’s bad enough she hurt Marinette, but she’s not hurting my sister.”

Adrien traded serious glances with Marinette. This was bigger, more important, than just avoiding a fake relationship with Lila now. If the liar had proved anything with her plot to get Marinette expelled, it was that she didn’t care who she hurt, what relationships she destroyed.

It was time to take her down.

[elizacornwall]

Vengeance is an Idiot’s Game  - Chapter 23 - Embers in the Night

Read all the published chapters here. -------------------------------------------------- Javier was playing his guitar with Uncle sitting next to him, Karen had finally given in to Sean’s advances and was seated on his lap. Miss Grimshaw sat on the log, Pearson and Lenny stood nearby. Arthur offered Eliza the comfortable space on the wolf pelt next to the older woman, whilst he lowered himself down onto the ground next to her. Pearson produced a bottle of Bourbon, passing it on to do the rounds.

Uncle had just begun a song, Karen and Miss Grimshaw joined in. Eliza had never seen the old woman this relaxed and was transfixed, watching her smile whilst she sang along. “Oh! I’m a wild free rover, I sing a merry song; The wide, wide world I wander over, With a light, light heart I rove along. Oh with a light, light heart I rove along!” She clapped as the song came to an end, everyone joining in happily. Karen and Sean staggered off to get more beer or to find some privacy, she didn’t exactly care know. Javier struck up a soft melody on his guitar as Miss Grimshaw excused herself to go to bed. Pearson took her seat a moment later, passing Eliza the bottle of whiskey the second time. “You enjoying yourself?”, the stout cook asked her. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and passed the bottle onto Arthur, who took it off her, one brow cocked.

“I do, thank you! It’s a lovely party, I certainly didn’t expect this when I signed up to be part of an outlaw gang”, she laughed. “But I’m not complaining, seeing Miss Grimshaw smile for once is quite the view.” Pearson laughed heartily, and she glanced at Arthur to her right, his shoulders shaking with a soundless chuckle. “Aaah I remember a time where Susan wasn’t all work”, Pearson mused. “Back in the days, when she and Dutch was together, she was a right spitfire. Fierce and fiery, never too soft for any job.” The girl stared at him. “What do you mean, when Dutch and her were together. Like together together?” She tried to imagine Miss Grimshaw being young and, well, pretty enough to draw the man’s attention, but couldn’t quite conjure up the image. Arthur explained when Pearson seemed lost in a memory of times long past. “Oh yeah, she only fell in with us because her and Dutch were a thing, that was before all of this.” He waved his hand over the camp. “Back then it was just Dutch, Hosea and I, and then Susan tagged along. She was always good to me.” Arthur had never spoken about the past before, and Eliza was incredibly curious. She had been wondering about his relationship with Hosea, of course Dutch must have been there too at the very start. Pearson picked up. “Yeah, she got a bit mother bear-ish, but she’s a fine woman. I only wish she was available…” His voice trailed off and she smiled to herself. Pearson and Grimshaw, she wasn’t sure if they would be such a good fit, but who was she to judge a man on a little crush. Her eyes wandered to Arthur, whose face was still obscured by his hat. “That woman would eat you alive, Pearson!”, Javier laughed. The cook didn’t respond, he just grumbled and stared into the fire.

Uncle started on a new song. “When I was just a lad you know,

I met a girl from ol' Bordeaux,

She had blond hair and blue eyes too;

She let me ride on the ring-dang-do.”

Arthur laughed and joined in on the last line, as did Pearson and Lenny, and before long Javier accompanied them with his guitar. It was a crude song about a woman’s private parts, but Eliza was loosened up by the booze and giggled with them, first humming along and then even singing the chorus. “The ring-dang-doo, now what is that? It’s soft and round like a pussy cat, Got a hole in the middle and is split in two; That’s what you call a ring-dang-doo!” Her little group broke out in a joined laugh as the last notes ebbed off. “I didn’t take you for a lady to sing such filthy songs at the campfire Bonita!” Javier said, a sly glint in his eyes as he looked at her. “And I didn’t take the man who stole me out of my bed as such an excellent musician, yet here you are”, she replied, in a playful tone, a cheeky grin on her lips. “Javier you sly dog, you are meant t’ steal the ladies and get them into bed, not out of it!” laughed Uncle, joining in with the banter. Her cheeks flushed at this remark, realising too late how her words could be interpreted. “What’s this about Escuella getting in bed with our Eliza?” Sadie’s raspy voice sounded from behind her, she slurred her words ever so slightly. Eliza’s head felt so hot she was sure her skin was the colour of a ripe tomato now, and in an attempt to not look like a flustered little girl, she replied: “He’s welcome to try, though I’m sure we all remember what happened the last time someone had the intention of bedding me, right Arthur?” Her words had the effect she hoped for, and everyone but Javier started howling with laughter. Uncle patted his shoulder sympathetically, the copper skinned man feigned heartbroken disappointment on his face, playing along with the joke. “Sounds like she’s found a guard dog with you Morgan!” Pearson jested, and she caught Arthurs eyes for a moment, smiling back at him mischievously. He only hummed in agreement, his features unmoving. “Only thing she’s takin’ t’bed with her’s her gun, and I dare all of you to lay a finger on our little doe! ‘specially with me sleepin’ in the wagon next to her”, Sadie announced, letting a hand fall onto her shoulder. “She’s too good for the likes of y’all!” Flattered but slightly annoyed by her overly protective manner the younger woman shuffled on her pelt. “I’m no better than anyone here, you don’t need to worry about me.” “That ain’t true and you know it. You’re sweet an’ innocent an’ pure, I ain’t lettin’ any of these bastards change ya into what they are!” She was clearly drunk, way more than Eliza originally had thought. But she’d had a good amount of juice too and couldn’t hold her tongue, hoping to impress and shake everyone’s view of her as a helpless little girl. “I don’t know about that, seems like you think you know more about me than you do. I’m not quite as innocent and pure as you believe!” Uncle hooted at that and Lenny piped up. “Bet she had a different servant in her bed every night! Y’all know what they say about all them rich ladies, they got a taste for the cocoa!” He swung his hips suggestively as he drew out the last word, and Eliza was just about to answer what she thought of his cocoa, as Arthur laid his hand on her knee. A warmth spread through her whole leg and she felt that strange sensation in her stomach again.  “Don’t say nothin’ now you might regret tomorrow”, he murmured in a low tone so only she could hear him, then raised his voice addressing the rest of the group. “What’s with all of you damn fools, forgettin’ your manners in front of a lady!” “’s all in good sport Morgan, bit of teasin’ won’t do her no harm”, Uncle replied. “Don’t be such an old grouch! She’d say if she wasn’t fine with it, right Eliza?” Lenny smiled at her, wriggling his eyebrows. She nodded, but before she could answer Arthur got up to his feet, offering her his hand and pulled her up with him as she took it without even thinking. “Yer mumma never taught you a woman’s purity ain’t yours to pry on?” His voice had a disapproving ring to it. He let go of Eliza’s arm and looked down at her,

frowning. She swayed on her feet, only now realising how drunk she actually was. He quickly steadied her, holding her gently by the upper arm. He sighed. “How ‘bout I bring ya to your cot, them lot can be dangerous to be ‘round for a woman in your state.” “I’m good Arthur, let me stay up a bit longer. I can take care of myself!” She raised her arm and jokingly flexed her biceps. It didn’t even match the size of his lower arms, strong and muscular as they were. “They don’t scare me!” She could hear Sadie laugh, and turning to her she saw the blonde taking her seat. “Hey! That’s my spot”, she complained. “Arthur’s right, go an’ air out that pretty little head of yours at least”, she waved her hand dismissively towards the cliffside. “Make sure she won’t fall off, alright?” The question was aimed at Arthur, and Eliza scoffed. Falling off a rock wasn’t on her to-do-list for today, besides, she wasn’t that drunk! He gently encouraged her to move, his hand still holding her arm which made her all weird and tingly. Must be the whiskey. She staggered away from the campfire towards the ledge and he led her silently, catching her twice when she stumbled over her own feet. “I’m not as innocent as you all think”, she lulled, still feeling the need to defend herself. He only hummed in response. Arthur led her to a boulder and let go of her arm, sitting down and gesturing for her to do the same. She followed suit and leant her back against the cold stone, the world swimming in front of her eyes. “I-I can shoot, used to at least an’ I could d-drink most of my father’s men under the table, HA”, she let out a loud laugh, reminiscing about the suitors in their fancy dinner frocks, truly and utterly drunk, not even able to hold their glass anymore because they underestimated her. Arthur sighed. “That may have been true back at yer daddy’s home, but you’re runnin’ with a gang of practised drunkards now. Don’t be goin’ and challenging them, you won’t win I promise.” She scowled at him, he made her feel like a little girl and she hated it. “You’re just as bad as them, always tryin’ to protect me, I don’t need a safeguard”, she huffed, “I’m twenty six you know, not sixteen. An’ even then I could take care of myself when dad’s greasy friends wan’ed to get in my bed.” He was just about to answer, when she cut him off: “And Micah doesn’t count, if you hadn’t locked me up in the first place that woul'n’t have happened!” He looked at her, a strange expression on his face. She thought it was belittling, and… was that pity? He sighed again. “You finished?” Eliza pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them close. The night was cold here in the dark without the fire. Wordlessly he draped his jacket over her shoulders. It was heavy and smelled of leather, sweat, smoke and horse. It needed a wash for sure she thought, but it was still warm from the heat of his body. She muttered a thanks and Morgan laughed his raspy laugh. “I never thought you needed protection, Miss. You just ain’t used to this way of life and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed tomorrow. If you even remember all this.” Eliza kept quiet as he lit himself a cigarette, taking a couple drags before he added: “Besides, Sadie’s gonna kill me if I ever let anythin’ happen to her little doe. You want to talk about bein’ overprotective, talk to her!” She was still irritated, but even drunk her had to admit that his arguments made sense. Curse him and his common sense, all high and mighty and not to be argued against. The cold air sent a breeze through her hair as she locked her gaze with his, the moonlight reflecting in those much-too-gentle-for-an-outlaw eyes. “I don’t need a guard dog, Arthur. I just don’t want anyone to think I’m weak.” Her eyes started to fill with tears like they wanted to mock her mumbled words, she quickly wiped them away. “I just… want to be my own woman, responsible for myself.” He chuckled softly, dropping his gaze and lowering his head until she couldn’t see anything under his hat but his smiling lips. “You’ll get there”, he replied, “but

there’s no shame in gettin’ a little help along the way. ‘Gotta learn how to walk before you can run’ Hosea’d say.” She huffed again, not wanting to outright agree that she needed plenty of guidance, but of course he was right. She stared at her knees for a long time, not saying a word while he smoked his cigarette, looking up at the clear night sky. The young woman tried to get a clearer head, not completely overrun by boozy emotion, but all that tumult inside her head and heart was so incredibly exhausting. She welcomed Morgan’s gentle voice, distracting her from her musings. “See that star up there? The bright one, right there. It’s called Polaris. If you ever get lost at night, that’s the one you want to find, it always shows north.” He pointed at a star close to the horizon, just over the mountains. “Make sure t’remember that.” Eliza followed his outstretched arm and saw the twinkling star he was pointing at. It was gorgeous, outshining all the others around it. Her lips parted slightly as she was looking at it, trying to take in what he just told her about it. She’d never had much interest in the constellations of the sky, aside from marvelling at their magical grace when she felt sad she didn’t tend to pay the stars much attention. When she looked back at him his eyes were resting on her, patiently awaiting a reply. “I-it’s beautiful”, she managed. “Mmh. Useful too. Suppose that was bein’-your-own-woman lesson number one”, he chuckled. He extinguished his cigarette on the rock behind him and flicked the butt over the edge of the drop. “Come on now, you look like you’re about to nod off. You need some sleep”, he said as he was getting up, holding out his hand to help her up. She grabbed it, grumbling her disapprovement. He led Eliza all the way back to her bedroll and made sure she was safely tucked in, not without reclaiming his jacket. They could already hear Sadie snoring and she giggled; he just gave she a sympathetic smile when she mentioned it. “Hope she ain’t keeping you up with that. Sometimes she sounds like she’s sawin’ logs, no idea how her Jake put up with that durin’ the nights.” Her giggling became a snort, “That’s love for you”, she replied. He exhaled sharply in a silent laugh. “Goodnight little doe”, he hummed, heading off, back towards the fire. Her eyes lingered on his back as he walked, jacket casually slung over one shoulder. Could someone’s back be handsome? The embers from the fire swirled lazily around his silhouette as he rejoined the now smaller group. Javier was still plinking away on his guitar, and like so often his play lulled Eliza to sleep, her last thought being of Arthur’s eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient for You, pt. 4

HOLY FUCK tumblr deleted the original. I shouldn’t have tried to add a tag on mobile huh?

Well anyway, here is part 4 AGAIN. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: swearing, blood/mild violence

@chims-kookies I had to re-edit so I’m not sure if you’re still tagged OOPS

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3        Part 5   Part 6

When you awoke Saturday morning, the sky was clear and bright, rays of sunlight pouring into your room at the perfect angle. Finally a day off! Now you could relax and work on your audition piece. You felt light as a feather hopping out of bed, immediately grabbing headphones and twirling around. You expertly compiled a list of viable options before turning to look out the window.

"Holy shit." The clock on your desk read 7pm."Guess I should feed myself."

You dug around in your pile of neglected clothes, looking for anything that would constitute acceptable clothing.

The only things left in your pile were a turtleneck and...a short ass skirt.

Reluctanly, you donned the garb.

"Wow!" You exclaimed sarcastically.  "I've always wanted to look like I'm on Scooby-Doo!"

You were quite expertly paying homage to Velma. Except her sweater probably left a little more to the imagination than your thin fabric.

--

You drove aimlessly for a while. Now that there was no focus on anything in particular, the only thought consuming you was Bakguo standing at your register, domineering but calm.

A breath hitched in your throat for a moment and your tongue felt swollen, a clear memory of a sweet smell rolling off of him.  A little ironic, honestly, considering he was the saltiest bitch you'd ever met.

Calm down asshole. He's just a dude. A really, really, REALLY gorgeous dude. That you happen to keep seeing everywhere so you can't get his pretty face out of your stupid thoughts even though he's done literally nothing to earn your trust or respect because being a hero doesn't inherently mean he's worth his weight in gold-

Your internal monologue came to an abrupt end as you hit shuffle and let the music take over again. It was the only silence you were getting from that blonde-haired asshat.

It was really something you hated about yourself: your ability to not even know someone but suddenly be drowning in them. Every time you got an idea in your head, every time someone did something even remotely good in any way, you were jumping at the chance to fantasize.

What did they laugh at?  Could they be sweet? Funny? Loving? How soft is their hair? Their lips..? Any question you had you could daydream the answer to with no problem. And daydream you did.

The setting sun was kissing the horizon as you prattled down the highway. You were a good ways out in the countryside, so a commute gave you time to clear your head. But it wasn't clearing anything.

All you could imagine was him standing just a little closer, a smile aimed at you instead of a sneer, a hand sneaking around your waist.

Your car was parked.

You didn't really remember turning into a parking lot, glassy eyes looking up at the restaurant sign in front of you.

The glimmer of the "TAKOYAKI SUPREME" sign pulled you out of your daze, if only a little.

"I have gotta stop doing that before I crash and die. Well, maybe if I die I won't have to deal with this, you mused, a finger pressed to your chin. You continued to mutter to yourself, slinking into the restaurant and staring spacily at the menu.

"I literally don't even like takoyaki." Your arms crossed as you struggled to search for a menu item that didn't make you want to throw up.

You were also great at going with the flow, and just dealing with whatever unpleasant situation you found yourself in. Hope was running out as you reached the end of the menu, shrinking down a little.

But suddenly there was a tingle up your spine. And not in a good way. You didn't dare move now. All of the haze was gone and much like a few nights ago, adrenaline coursed. But this time, you really would've preferred to have Kirishima and Bakugo hiding somewhere behind you.

The door opened and a breeze blew in, carrying the sound of a slow, calculated voice.

"That's the one." It sounded like they were standing right next to you; goosebumps accompanied the chill over the atmosphere. It wasn't clear whether or not they were alluding to you, but your gut feeling said to be anywhere else.

They were both dressed in all black, tall and looming.

Did they follow you here? It's not like you would've noticed. You were too busy imagining a face that definitely wasn't going to walk you to your car now.

As long as I can get to my keys-fuck!

You felt around aimlessly in your pockets, the horror of realizing you locked them in the car taking hold.

Just walk out calmly. There's nothing saying they're here for you.

You tried to tell yourself that, but every hair on your body was standing up and your heart was racing. These guys were bad news.

The wind picked up as you stepped outside. No one followed. But your keys were locked in your car and there was no quick getaway now.

Shakily, you pulled on the door handle, hoping that maybe for once you left the door open.

Goddammit. My phone's in there too! How the fuck am I gonna get out of this one?

You looked longingly at the seat, never wishing you were a set of keys more than at this moment.

It's either pick the lock or break the window. And probably my hand.

Movement from the inside. One of the guys dressed in black was standing now. It could've just been a coincidence, but the sinking feeling wasn't going away. He walked towards the door.

Just fucking break it! Don't worry about the pain!

But you couldn't make your body move. You were frozen stiff as the door opened. Even if you wanted to turn around, you wouldn't have.

"Hey doll face. You need some help?" It almost sounded sincere and if you hadn't had a knack for sniffing out predators, it would've been convincing.

"No."

"Really? Cuz it looks like you're locked out of your car."

"I am." The only hope was that he couldn't see you shaking violently.

"A lady shouldn't be out here in this cold. You should go back inside." There was something in his tone that was unsettling. You could feel him leering at you greedily.

The fuck does he want? Not money. He would've just robbed me. There aren't a lot of other options besides kill me and kidnap me. But why me? Just keep your cool for now, Shouna. Breathe.

"I will be fine."

"You're shaking." You could feel him slowly walking closer. Closer. Way too close. He was way too close.

"I said I don't need any fucking help from you," you growled, finally finding the will to turn around. He jerked back a bit at the ferocity in your tone.

His hands are in his pockets. I don't like where this is going.

"Get. Away," you warned. The wind swirled up again, howling now.

His face went from feigned concern to intense confession. There was a malicious grin plastered across his face, almost inhuman.

"Fine. If you don't wanna play along, then I got no choice." He giggled as he pulled a knife out of his pocket.

You eyed the small knife carefully.

He can't kill me with that. He's trying to scare me with that thing. Calm down! You literally went to school for this exact kind of thing!

You knew, though, that there was a big difference between technical and practical application, and your hands didn't stop shaking. The cold was becoming unbearable, slashing at your face and legs. Your heart didn't stop beating a million miles a minute.

Your wide eyes met his nefarious ones as he spoke his next words, "come with me or die."

Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, hands and knees shaking, eyes clouding with fear. There was nowhere for you to go, no place to run to. How had nobody noticed? Everyone inside was going about their lives like some girl wasn't about to get assaulted in a parking lot.

Keep it cool. If he was here to kill you he would've done it already.

You wished so badly to hear some whispering in the wind right about now. There wasn't a single hero in sight. There wasn't a single person in sight. Those guys were popping up everywhere you were for days and all of a sudden they were nowhere to be found?

"You won't kill me," you dared.

"Quit stalling!" His hand wrapped around your wrist tightly as he tried to pull you towards the knife. "I won't kill you, but I will hurt you."

You were twisting and kicking and doing anything to avoid feeling the knife driving into you, landing a well-placed kick below the belt.  It bought you enough time to get out of his grip and in your adrenaline-filled rush, you smashed your window out, ignoring the bright red streams down your arm and glass in your fingers.

You grabbed the key and tried to open the car door. But he pulled you by the shoulders instead.

"I don't think so!"

He braced his legs against yours and pulled your arms behind you, leaving one hand free to press the cold metal to your neck.

"Now listen to me, you have one chance to just go back inside and do what we say. Or you're gonna have to figure out how to look pretty covered in blood!" His whisper was intense in your ear, pushed through clenched teeth.

"Fuck you."

A small cut on your neck. A small pain but a lot of blood. You grunted in reaction to the metal, so cold it was hot. You were starting to get lightheaded.

"Don't make me ask again."

"You didn't ask the first time."

This time there was a deep, blinding pain as he plunged the knife into the side of your thigh. It seemed like your screams fell on deaf ears. The lightheaded feeling got worse as your vision became clouded around the edges.  

"I told you not to fuck around."

He pushed you into your car and you didn't even know bodies could bounce off of things like that. He left you stunned on the ground, mouth hung open in shock. You couldn't yell anymore, the adrenaline was taking over and you could hardly feel anything but a dull ache in your leg.

He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

"You stupid girl! Now you'll have to wait out here. You're covered in blood." There was nothing you could do as he walked into the alleyway with you.

"Wait here."

As if I have a choice, asshole.

He tossed you roughly to the ground. The cool air was the only thing keeping your stomach from turning as you leaned your head back against the cold metal gate.

I have my keys. If I can just get to my car before they come back, I can get out of here. But I can't get up. I'll pass out, at least.

You took a few gulps of air. "I have to get up," You groaned. "I have to get to my car."

You started crawling. You weren't really in any condition to drive, but there wasn't much choice. Crawling was proving to be too slow.

"Right," you muttered. "Right leg first." You pushed yourself up and put your right leg up, prepared to bear the weight. As you pushed up, the dark swirls began to make themselves known again. You reached hastily for the fence, nearly falling backward.

The knots in the fence grazed across your stab wound and it took everything you had to stifle the scream.

I have to get the adrenaline pumping again. I have to do something to numb the pain.

"Fuck," your breath was raggedy and erratic. "Shit. I have to go. Don't think. Don't think about it. Just do it. Just go!" You pushed off your right leg and upon landing on your left, the pain from the stab rang out against every muscle in your leg. But you weren't going to let it buckle. You were going to get out of here and let the adrenaline do the work.

It was almost a good plan. A sigh of relief burst from you as your car came into view again. But you turned your head to the door. Which was a mistake.

Your ankle twisted with the uneven surface of the asphalt, knocking you to the ground. You slid a good distance and rolled to a halt, literally just a few steps from the car.

Goddammit! Get up! Get UP!

You spent a moment yelling at yourself to move. The blood from your stab wound was pouring down your leg and your neck was pulsing.

I have to get out of here. I can't wait to see what they have planned for me. You kept having to push the thought of Bakugo showing up in the nick of time out of your head.

The door opened and the man from earlier walked up to you slowly, smirking. "You thought you were gonna run away huh? That's precious. Though I must commend how far you made it. Running on a bad leg is no fun." He kneeled down over you. "You're going to regret this,"he hissed.

All you could hear was your ragged breath hitching in your throat as he pulled out the knife again.

Fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Suddenly you heard a huge blast go off in close proximity. Your heart raced. You could only think of one reason you'd hear an explosion. The man looked in the direction of the blast and you looked up, having noticed a shadow looming on the roof.

Holy shit I've never hoped that an asshole was here more than I do now. Please for the love of god be Bakugo.

The moonlight was bright and it was easy for you to make out blonde hair and a smile filled with bloodlust cross the shadowy face above.

"Hmm,"you hummed gently, closing your eyes. "He's here." The relief washed over you.  There was no way this dude was a match for Bakugo.

"Oi, asshat."

The man turned suddenly. It was clear he recognized Bakugo too.

"I think it'd be best if you leave the girl alone."

[arlothia]

Yet Another Ask....

When I saw this on your blog @terribleteej​ I KNEW you were going to tag me :P Here we go!!!

Top three ships:

Can I just Copy/Paste Teej’s? Yes, yes I will...mostly :P

Seo Jeung Ho / Chae Young Shin – Healer

Kim Je Ha / Go An Na - The K2

Kim Yeong Ho / Kang Joo Eun – Oh My Venus!

What? Three more? OKAY!

Grim Reaper / Sunny & Goblin ( Kim Shin ) / Goblin’s Bride ( Ji  Eun Tak ) – Yes its a two-fer!  Goblin: The Lonely and Great God

Han Tae Joo / Yoon Na Yeong – Life On Mars

Lee Gang Doo /  Ha Moon Soo – Just Between Lovers

More? Okay, the Chinese side!

Bo Jin Yan / Jian Yao – Love Me If You Dare

Captain Ji Bai / Xu Xu – When A Snail Falls In Love

Mei Chang Su / Nihuang – Nirvana In Fire (plus Everyone / a happy & long life)

Luo Fei / Qin Xiao Man - Detective L (also Detective L / Second Season)

Jiang Cheng / Wen Qing - The Untamed (They deserved to be happy!!!! *sobs*)

Hey, you never said THREE more!! ;)

Last movie:

Assassination (2015 - Korean Movie)

Lipstick or chapstick:

Neither

Last song:

I have a Drama Music playlist on the thumbdrive in my car radio that I have on repeat:

Nirvana in Fire: Opening Fanfare

Guardian: Flying Across Time

The Untamed: Unrestrained (Duet version)

Nirvana in Fire: When the Wind Blows

Ashes of Love: Upwards to the Moon (Guqin cover)

Guardian: We Won’t Be Falling Down

Nirvana in Fire: Main Theme (NOT included on the OST)

Reading:

Romancing Daphne by Sarah M. Eden (never thought I’d be one for romance novels but it’s REGENCY romance, clean, and the characters are AMAZING!!!! Thanks to my sister-in-law for recommending Sarah Eden’s books!!!)

Watching:

Mad Dog, Melting Me Softly, and Fairyland Lovers.

Totally Spies or the Powerpuff Girls:

Um, never even HEARD of the first and TOTALLY not the second! Noooo way!!!!

Welp, this is where tagging games go to die, so consider EVERYONE who sees this tagged!!!

[zacklover24]

Forgotten west 6

Summary: The west was a forgotten place, a time when the land said to be untamable and untouched. A time of gangs and outlaws, a time when the law both good and bad ruled. A time when people did good and bad thing. They lived and they died and time went on, the west was soon forgotten and the gangs that though to rule were long gone and no one could tell who really ruled the land. But this story is about the survival of one gang, and there will and desire to live in changing times. But that didn’t last long soon they were gone and all that was left was broken dreams and broken hope. Time travel au, dealings with the devil, a coming of age story. 

So this is an intermission of sorts. At this part of the story is where the time travel AU aspect come in. 

Angel is (1)25

Jack is (1)24

Tagging: @dolphinitley, @lokighost, @deputyoneill, @thotful-writing, @trashmouth-skywalker, @nykamito-x, @outranks, @naromoreau, @jacobswhitetails

Angel woke to being on a train with small green chairs. She  slowly blinked trying to figure out why she was on this train and what was going. From the small window next to her, angel could see the passing scenery. She was out in the middle of nowhere.

“What, what, what, what happened?” Angel hisses cradling her throbbing head. She remembered being in the horse race she had taken the lead from cherry gray, she and snow were in the final stretched when snow was spooked by something a snake maybe,  by angel best guess, snow threw her and then she saw spots and now she was on a train.

‘Last stop, rhodes, last stop rhodes.’ Someone calls from the front of the train car.

“Rhodes?” Angel whispers watching the train pull up to the old station. But something was off with the station it didn’t look right, it looked like how did it in eighteen, night-nine, and not how it was supposed to  look in twenty-nineteen. What the flying fuck was going on? The train came to a stop, and angel not seeing much of a choice, so she hopped off, she was feeling dizzy and  nauseous but, she couldn’t figure out why.

“Jack is going to have my head for this.” Angel mutters heading into the station, the station was empty of life. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Language please angel.” A person says, angel looked around to see someone sitting down at a table reading a newspaper, the man closed his paper and angel squeaked.

“Uncle hosea?” Angel squeaks walking over to the man but she stopped slack jawed, he supposed to be dead, the man who died in eighteen night-nine, during the bank robbery. Hosea closed his paper and stood, he looked very much alive and well, like the last time she saw before he was killed.

“Hello sweetheart.” Hosea greets closing the space between them and hugging angel tightly.

“How is this possible?” Angel asks as she buried her face into hosea chest, “Aren’t you, didn’t  you?” She wasn’t sure how to phrase this right.

Hosea gave angel a soft laugh, “Yes, sweetheart I am dead, most fellers here are, but not you. Odd, that old train only brings in those who passed on.”

“So I’m not dead then?” She asks him confused, so where was she then?

“No, I reckon your just passing through for now. Come on, I think there’s some feller’s who are going to be happy see you again.” Hosea tells her, as angel gave him a confused look. “You’ll see.”

The pair left the train station, with angel making a comment her right arm, wrist and hand was hurting but nothing she couldn’t push pass. Hosea gave her a pat on the head,  making angel wince but neither said anything as they walked off.

“So where are we going?” Angel asks as they walked down the old dirt streets of rhodes.

“You’ll see.” Hosea tells her as they soon arrived at the rhodes parlor house.

“Why are we here? I don’t drink.” She tells him crossing her arms over her chest.

Hosea let out a gasp as he clutched his chest as if he was going to faint, “The daughter of arthur morgan doesn’t drink? Perish the thought.”

Angel rolled her eyes, “Hey addiction it’s a thing, and he was addicted to drinking and drinking kills.” She points out, and then winced hard, as hosea gave her a pointed look. “Fuck a duck.”

“Drinking doesn’t do much for us anymore, can’t die from that or from smoking but, it’s still a vise a hard one to shake sweetheart.” Hosea calmly tells her, heading into the parlor house.

“I done fucked up sorry.” Angel calls following after him.

Unlike the train station and town the parlor for a lack of a better wording was alive, but angel knew that everyone in the parlor was dead. They had been for a very long time. The atmosphere was lively and cheerful. And yet at the bar, were three people that angel never thought she would see again. Hosea could only smile as he gave her gentle push which made angel wince hard as she started to walk, while he went upstairs to do what she did not know. Of all the people angel had expected to see at the bar, sean, javier and charles weren’t them.

“Now whose fault was it then Javier? It was that rat bastard micah. If dutch had just let him swing none of had happened would have happened.” Sean says waving his beer bottle around.

“Micah was poison, with no know crue. But, in the end he died didn’t he?” Javier asks, as he was leaning against the bar facing the entrance to the parlor house. He saw angel first and could only smile. He gently motioned for her to come over.

“Aye, marston killed him and for what? For that bastard ross to kill him? Marston played the part of the good errand boy and he died in the end.” Sean mutters, angel took in a deep breath as she tapped on sean shoulder. Sean let out a grunt but didn’t turn around. So angel tapped his shoulder a second time, nothing, she let out a snort as she hugged him.

“What the hell kar…..” The words died on sean tongue as he twisted to see that it wasn’t karen but, “Angel? What the hell you doin’ here lass?”

“Just passing through.” Angel tells him, trying to hold back her tears. She missed sean, the day he died she never got her chance to say goodbye.

Sean let out relieved sigh as he hugged back, “Hello darlin it’s been a bloody long time, hasn’t it?”

“A very long time.” She agrees, “I’ve missed you, all of you so much.”

“Oh darlin’ we’ve missed you too but look at you.” Sean softly cooes pulling out of the hug as he cupped angel face wiping away a shed tear, “Look at you, pretty as a peach you are. You were right javier.”

“Of course I was, just look at her all grown up and taking on the world.” Javier tells him as angel looked ready cry.

“Don’t you dare start crying angel morgan. No, need to waste tears on three dead men.” Sean playfully scolds as she hugged him again.

“I just wish I had gotten my chance to say goodbye.” She tells him trying to hold back her tears.

“Oh sweetheart it’s okay.” Sean tells her, as angel buried her face in his chest. There was one person she wanted to see, the one person she missed just as much as she missed sean.

“If your wondering, he’s upstairs playing blackjack with dutch and john.” Charles says as if reading angel mind.

“I-I-I thank you uncle charles.” Angel says giving him and javier a hug each before heading up.

“Don’t let him scare you off, you know he’s all bark and no bite.” Charles tells her smiling.

“I know that.” Angel calls back feeling very dizzy and faint, she just made up it up to the second floor. Just as charles said at the blackjack table was her uncle john, uncle dutch who was happily smoking a cigar while uncle hosea was sitting off to the side, and there was  her father. Sitting next to dutch, looking grumpy.

“Don’t you dare cheat now.” Arthur says looking at dutch who was  trying to play innocent.

“Arthur I would never.” Dutch says faking gasping. Angel smiled as she walked forward, but it was getting hard to walk, her left leg was killing her, and she was starting to see spots, she had almost made it to the table when, ground passing out.

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

Angel woke to the hear the steady beeping of a heart montair, the dripping of a morphine drip, and the all too clean smell of the hospital room. The room was filled with flowers of all kinds, it looked like a damn forest.

“Angel?” Jack worried voice asks form angel left, angel looked at jack and gave him a weak smile.

“Hey handsome.” She greets, her voice sounding hoarse and weak. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks her, angel gave him a confused look, “Snow was spooked so bad that she threw you and got hurt bad. You’ve been out since the day before last. Doctors said you were lucky.”

Angel tried to laugh but her body hurt to much, “How bad?”

“Concussion, punctured lung, broken ribs, fractured  your right arm, your right wrist and hand were broken and your shoulder dislocated.” Jack tells her as he handed her a cup with a straw in it.

“Fuck a duck.” Angel hisses as she took some sips from the cup, “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Fuck a duck is right, you were lucky ang.”

“I figured jack a boy. Just fuck a duck.” She moans feeling tired, “Guess I’m stuck on the bottom floor of shady belle for awhile.” She says  trying to joke.

“Guess so, guess I’m going to need to stay home as well. Fuck a doodle a doo. I bet you any type of money this is cherry doing.” Jack mutters running a hand over his face.

“Could be worse jack, could be worse.” She admits, “So why the flying fuck does my room looking like a forest tossed it’s cookies in here.”

“Was wondering when you were going to ask. You could flowers from Angelo, August, Rosemary, Uncle Joaish, Collin, Mayor Goodwin, Mrs. Peacock, Mrs. Green, and a few others.” Jack tells her.

Angel could let out a soft chuckle, “And nothing from cherry and dustin.”

“Be thankful for that. Oh august wanted to know if your feeling up for it, he’ll visit tomorrow.” Jack informs her.

“Yea, maybe. I would like that.”

End of line

[bookenders]

11/11/11 Tag Game!

Tagged by @writer-by-the-window​! Thank you thank you! I love doin’ these. Everyone comes up with such good questions! 

Rules: Answer 11 questions, ask 11 questions, tag 11 people.

1. Did you outline your wip or are you writing by the seat of your pants?

Both! Ish. I usually write by the seat of my pants, but I am outlining this time since it’s a longer project. Everything I’m outlining is being written from said pants seat, though! It’s a surprise every time I sit down. Ba-dum-tss.

Who’s your favorite character to write about and why?

In H2H, I like writing about Oz and Harry. But I also like writing from Gemma’s POV, which is good, since nearly the whole story is from her POV. Oz and Harry have such a fun dynamic. He’s a cactus, she’s the cactus wren who makes the cactus habitable... Okay bad metaphor, but you get what I mean, yeah? 

Gemma is a big nerd who gets excited about things and feels pretty strongly, even if she doesn’t care to show it a lot of the time. And her thought process is fun to write, too. She’s very different from other characters I’ve written. She’s super intuitive and perceptive. 

I’m looking forward to writing about Mel, too. I have a lot of info about her that’ll be revealed in the story and my friends, it’s juicy. Like a mango.🍑 (there is no mango emoji how dare)

  What’s your favorite medium for storytelling other than novels(TV, movies, video games, podcasts, etc)?

Ooof. Favorite to create? Interactive storytelling, like with Twine. It is Difficult. I enjoy it. I did one and am working up the courage to do another. Or I’ll go back and fix the one I did. Who knows?

Favorite to consume? Can it be a tie between video games, TV, and movies? Because I just started getting into podcasts after The Adventure Zone, and the only streaming I really watch anymore is Critical Role. I wanna get into Starship Iris though! Looks super cool. 

I’m a huge ho for video games. Especially RPGs. I have played Dragon Age: Origins too many times for it to be considered a hobby at this point. I was a big WoW gamer, too. And Assassin’s Creed. And pretty much anything with a good story.

How long have you been working on your WIP?

Since late October 2018! Not the longest I’ve worked on one project though. My thesis took me a little less than a year. I thought I’d be finished by December. HA.

What are some of your least favorite tropes in fiction?

Rape/non-con for character development. Fridging characters and the ever so popular Disposable Woman. Magical Healing Penis. Romanticizing horrific circumstances and serious & terminal illnesses. Some things Me Before You did. To name a few.

Do you have any writing role models? If so, who are they and why?

My biggie is Laurie. Halse. Anderson. Read Wintergirls when I was a kid. Taught me that people do actually like to read the dark stuff, which is the opposite of what a lot of people told me. She’s a badass who lives in the woods and writes amazing books about difficult subjects that people, especially younger people, need to read about and be aware of. 

AND I’M GOING TO A SIGNING THIS MONTH. I GET TO MEET HER. AHHH.

(Also, if anyone likes Tom Leveen, author of Party, Sick, Mercy Rule, and Random, I can vouch for his extreme coolness. He subbed for my YA Lit professor one time and taught us all about how to handle the business part of becoming an author.)

What do you like the most about your writing?

How emotional I can get with so few words. I’m real good at making readers cry. Hehe.

What are some songs that you have on your writing playlist right now?

My Heart to Heart playlist is right here! And I have individual character playlists that I’ll be posting once I’m “finished” curating them. If I’m ever finished. 

Do you have any characters based off of real people?

I try not to. I think it gets a little weird if I do that. I’ve only recently started letting myself be inspired by people I know. Like Mary is definitely based on one of my aunts, and Harry has some qualities that I stole from my best friend. I gave Mel my love of fanny packs/bum bags if that counts. I love how weird they look and how useful they are! You get made fun of for wearing one to Disneyland on a class trip until you are the Keeper of the Wallets. Then who’s laughing, fools?

How would you describe the aesthetic of your wip?

Warm apple pie, cumulus clouds, walking down the street at sunset holding hands, smoking beakers, one of those electricity balls that look like bottled lightning, kitchen giggles, Saturday morning Scooby Doo marathons, plant sprouts pushing their way out of the dirt, neighborhood block parties, that brain-pokey feeling when you know something isn’t quite right.

Favorite line you’ve written?

From the story I read in front of like 80 people:

Looking at something pretty only makes you feel good for as long as you look at it, for that one tiny slice of life, and then you blink and turn away and it fades, unless you’re lucky and it keeps cropping up behind your eyes when you go to sleep at night.

My questions!

Do you own and fun socks? What are they?

How many notebooks do you have? What do they look like? How full are they?

Grab the book nearest you. Turn to page 70 (or 16 if it’s a tiny book). What is the 8th line on that page? How do you feel about it?

Have you read any short stories? What’s your favorite? 

Have you ever tried knitting? Do you still knit? What about other crafty things? What do you make?

Of the books in your living space right now, which has the coolest cover?

Do you know any camp songs? What did you used to sing in school, or at recess?

What’s your favorite fairy tale? How would you twist it?

Are there any cool local events where you live?

What’s your favorite sea creature? 

Do you like turtles? Why?

Bilbo Taggins: @aslanwrites, @quilloftheclouds, @mvcreates, @drist-n-dither, @carumens, @hannahs-creations, @haileyavril, @nightskywriter, @penzag, @capricious-writes, @mythwords

[ladye11e]

Deception pt 27

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Tagging @geekgoddess813 @sweet-flash @ermergerd517 @i-wontgivein @imakemyownblog 😊

If anyone else would like a tag, please ask 

Link to the full fic so far is Here.

Ramming your shoulder into the door of your apartment, you scowled when you finally got it open, kicking all of the mail out of the way as you had forgotten to get it redirected while you were away. You dropped your bag and keys on the countertop before grabbing the kettle, soon discarding it when you knew you needed something stronger than coffee after everything that had gone on today.

Scouring through your fridge and cupboards; finding them still expectedly bare, you snapped your fingers and sauntered over to your closet, pulling out the dusty bottle of rum that Eddie had graciously given to you as a gift out of his personal stash after he had forgotten your birthday last year. Pouring yourself a generous slosh in your mug, you slumped down at your table and took a swig, spluttering as the flavour of it was what you presumed battery acid would taste like.

"Bloody hell Eddie, how can you drink this stuff?!"

Pushing the mug to one side and drumming your fingers on the table, you mumbled 'recordings' over and over to yourself, hoping it would trigger a glimmer of something. After several minutes, the only thing you could come up with was when you had called Gist about the money, but as Shay had mentioned blackmailing him, you knew that wasn't right, as that didn't implicate him in anything in the slightest. The only way you could find out was to try and get Shay to tell you, but as you had no idea where he was right now, that wasn't an option at the moment.

Grabbing hold of your stomach when it began rumbling furiously; now finding it hard to concentrate with being so hungry, you slunk off the chair and crawled over to the forests worth of mail on the floor, sifting through the pile in search of a decent takeout menu. After tossing a few of the circulars aside, you cocked your head curiously when you spied a crisp white envelope that seemed very out of place, peeking from inside a Chinese menu. Plucking it out, you rolled it in your hands for a moment; even more baffled when you saw that it was completely blank, before ripping it open and tipping its contents on your lap. The corner of your mouth twitched when you snapped up a business card, with nothing on it but a mobile number, and a familiar smiley face.

Dragging yourself up, you upturned your bag and shook it until your phone dropped out, keying in the number and saving it under the name 'Perv' with a snigger. After sending a quick text with nothing but the word, Coffee? on it, you carried on looking through the menus, sighing when you couldn't decide between them all. Clicking on the message when one came back quicker than you expected, you dropped back down on the chair with a groan, when it confirmed what you already knew.

Can't right now, unexpected friends turned up and had to take a short trip. Hopefully back in a day or so. Glad you got your phone sorted!

Of course that's why he contacted you like this, neither of them knew that you had picked up another phone yesterday, so you made a mental note not to tease Gist for one whole day for his quick thinking while you replied.

Okay, let me know when you're back.

Will do. Our friend says, Miss you Xx

You burst out laughing when another message quickly followed with three eye roll emojis, making you rethink your lack of teasing to now, half a day.

Where's his phone? Miss you both, one of you more than the other of course!

He dropped it while, running? I knew it! I shan't let our friend know, it stays between you and me ;)

Aaaaand that was his reprieve gone. You were still chuckling to yourself as you rolled your eyes and went back to the menus, almost dropping your phone when it started ringing in your hand. Connor?! Now this was strange, as he usually avoided calling people if he could, much preferring messaging as he was always busy doing something or other, and finding someone's voice blaring in his ear far too distracting.

"Hey, is everything okay? Don't tell me you need more help with Jacob already?" You snorted, imagining him trying to sneak out of his room in just his gown.

"(Name)..."

You froze as the tone of his voice sent a shudder through you, which was somewhere between panic and on the verge of tears as he repeated your name when you didn't answer him.

"What is it?! What's wrong?!"

"Achilles. He has been rushed to the hospital..."

"I'm on my way." You whispered, your fingers holding your phone so tight that it was on the verge of shattering in your palm.

After breaking nearly every traffic law in the book, you cursed out loud when the only parking space you could find was three blocks away from the hospital. Sprinting the rest of the way, you were barely able to breathe by the time you almost slammed into the automatic doors, as they decided to open at a snail's pace. Pushing your way to the front of the queue at the receptionists' desk, you ignored the murmurs and scowls from everyone, slamming your hand on the counter while you tried to speak through your rapid breathing.

"A-Achilles... Daven..port. Where... Is he?!"

"There is a line you know." The now surly woman grumbled, adjusting her glasses before typing on her computer. "He's just been admitted to ICU..... Hey! Family only!"

You knew your way around enough to dart off before she had even finished and had a chance to call security, skidding to a stop at the lifts and mashing the button repeatedly. Barging out the elevator impatiently after it had stopped at every single fucking floor before reaching the ICU, you slowed down and hesitantly walked over when you saw Connor sat on one of the benches outside the first room, head buried in his hands. Crouching down in front of him, you gently placed your palm on his cheek and tilted his head up, immediately throwing your arms around him when you saw his eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

"What's happened?" You whispered, not even caring that your ribs were on the verge of breaking when he returned the embrace.

"Pneumonia. I-It's...bad. The doctors say..."

Holding on as tightly as you could when he couldn't continue and chocked back a sob, you stayed there for a moment before managing to twist yourself so you could sit next to him, your head snapping up with a glare when two security guards had finally caught you up and were yelling at you to leave. You couldn't see Connors face, but you could assume what his expression was, when they suddenly stopped in their tracks, holding their hands up and walking backwards, absolutely terrified.

"Wish I could do that." You chuckled, giving him a soft smile when he took a deep breath, and the corner of his mouth twitched. "What can I do? To help? Need me to get anything for you?"

"Just stay with me (name)."

And that's precisely what you did.

You were here all night, calming him down when his temper rose, and as a pillow for him when he broke down. You had finally managed to get him to stop pacing around six in the morning, and he was now laying on the bench with his legs dangling off of the end, and his head on your lap, snoring softly. Stroking his hair to keep him soothed, you rested your head on the wall and dared to close your eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the twisting and gnawing ache of your stomach, as you hadn't eaten in nearly two days. Not wanting to fall asleep yourself, you flicked your eyes open and just stared at the ceiling, trying not to chuckle as Connor had now started murmuring while he dozed.

"Mrs, Um, Raah...ton...hnng..?"

Lolling your head forwards and, raising your eyebrows to the weary-looking nurse who had managed to sneak up on you in your sleep deprived state, you rolled your eyes as she stared at her clipboard and frowned, silently mouthing (and failing) the name again. You decided to put her out of her misery after the third attempt, but not correcting her assumption of who you were, as you didn't want to risk almost getting thrown out again.

"Ra-doon-ha-gay-doon. Yes?"

"Mrs Ra...doo... I give up. Sorry. Your father is stable, for now, and he is awake. You can go in and see him, but please keep it brief, he is very weak."

Nodding to the nurse as she walked away, you shook Connors' arm gently to wake him, surprised when he turned his head and stared at you wide-eyed with a slight grin.

"I heard. Mrs."

"Oh get up you big oaf. My leg fell asleep an hour ago." You giggled, massaging your thigh when he sat himself up and stretched out. "Why didn't you just put Connor?"

"It is a habit when I fill out a form. Also, it is always amusing hearing people try to pronounce it. "

"Who knew you were so evil? I'll grab us something to drink okay? Won't be long."

You patted his hand gently as he squeezed your shoulder with a soft smile before creeping into Achilles room, leaving you to wander off and find a literal, bucket of caffeine.

On the way back, you thought you'd best check up on Jacob while you were here, finding him in the same room you had left him in yesterday. Poking your head around the door, you winced at the brace that was around his leg before turning to go when you saw that he was asleep, stopping in your tracks when he mumbled something that you didn't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"I said, about time someone came to see me."

Closing the door and slumping down into the chair next to the bed, you finished off the remnants of your drink and immediately started on the next, hissing when you burnt your tongue slightly in your haste.

"Yeah sorry, been a bit busy. So what was the diagnosis?"

"Ribs are just bruised, but my kneecap is busted. Gonna take about two months to heal up. Soooo, what was so important that you couldn't come and see your favourite mate? What are you doing??"

Stopping prodding your tongue where the scorch mark was with a shrug of your shoulders, you ran your hand over his brace thoughtfully, as you wondered just who was going to be helping him with his recovery with everything going on at the moment.

"Guess you didn't hear. Achilles got rushed in yesterday, I've been upstairs all night with Connor."

"What?! Why?? Is he sick?! Did he have an accident??"

Balls. You had forgotten that Achilles didn't want anyone knowing what he was going through, but seeing as you had already put your foot in it, you might as well tell him, as there was already a high chance of him finding out anyway with him being here.

"Right. You tell no one this. You understand?"

You narrowed your eyes when he crossed his chest with the tip of his finger; wondering if he was being sincere, but as he looked genuinely worried for a change, you believed you could trust him with the said secret.

"Achilles is sick. Very sick. Cancer. And before you go off on one for no one telling you, the only people who know are Altäir and Connor. I found out by accident."

Sitting there in uncomfortable silence as he just lowered his head and stared at his leg, you grabbed your drink and fiddled with the lid while you let what you had said sink in. Just like you, he didn't know Achilles very well, but as bad as losing one of your own was, it was the fact that it was Connors father that made it worse.

"Um, I've gotta get back. I'll come down again when I can alright?"

Getting up when he nodded his head numbly, you made your way back upstairs, just as Connor came out of Achilles room with a doleful expression.

"Here, I got you one of those Innocent smoothies you like, with the extra plant mush. How is he?"

Passing him the bottle and plonking yourself back down on the bench, the corner of your eye started doing something resembling a nervous tick when he drank half of its contents in one swallow, before scoffing as he sat down next to you.

"He is resting, but the doctors say that the antibiotics might not work. We shall have to wait and see. Here. Will you just try it?"

Your face contorted into a grimace when he shoved the juice into your free hand, gesturing for you to take a sip. Sniffing it timidly before slowly putting the bottle to your lips, you almost choked when he tipped it up with his finger, forcing you to take a hefty gulp.

"See? It is nice, isn't it."

Actually, it's not that bad... But you would never in a million years admit that, so as soon as you had managed to swallow the green slop, you stuck your tongue out and scraped at it with your nails, before finishing off your own drink; sloshing it around your mouth first.

"Blergh! I think I've been poisoned. Good job we're already in a hospital."

You grinned smugly as you had managed to cheer him up for a moment when he let out a heartfelt chuckle, but it didn't last long when he sat back with a heavy sigh and, stared at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Achilles, he wants to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"I do not know, but he was insistent. Will you go in?"

Raising your eyebrows in bewilderment as you sat there for a second, trying to guess what on earth he would want to speak to you about, but you thought it best not to linger and nodded as you got up, closing the door quietly behind you.

You hovered at the back of the room for a moment to let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, then slowly parted the curtains that were drawn around the bed, pursing your lips when you saw Achilles hooked up to several softly beeping machines, and an oxygen mask over his face.

"Achilles? You wanted to see me?" You whispered, sitting down on the chair next to the bed when his eyes flickered open.

Drifting your gaze over his face when he pulled down the mask, you couldn't believe how different he looked compared to the last time you saw him. His skin was hanging off his bones, as he had lost a lot of weight from what you could only assume was by having chemotherapy, and his eyes were glassy, almost lifeless as he turned his head to face you.

"Yes." He croaked, as speaking and breathing was probably the most painful thing he could do right now, wheezing in between words. "I need... you to do...something for me. Will...you do it?"

You nodded without thinking, as whatever it was you were going to make sure you did it, without question.

"Connor. Take care...of him for me. He...will need...your help. So...proud of him...my boy. "

"Of course, sir. That's not something you ever needed to ask."

Gently taking his hand while he pulled his mask back up to take a few more swallows of oxygen, your eyes widened slightly when he pulled it back down again to carry on talking, his hand squeezing your fingers as tight as he could muster.

"There is...something else. A-a traitor...in our folds. You...must find them. Speak...to Altäir..."

He trailed off when your fingers noticeably flinched in his palm, his eyes locking with yours and holding your gaze for what felt like an eternity, boring into your soul as if he was reading your mind. His hand snapped away from you as what was left of the colour in his face drained away, leaving you just staring at him blankly.

"No...it can't be...not...you"

"Achilles, plea-"

"No...no. Nonononono!"

You jumped up when the alarms suddenly set off on the machines, rapid, loud beeping drowning out his words before he started coughing, making you pull his mask back up when his lips started turning blue.

"It's not what you think! Please Achilles, calm down! Nurse! Doctor, anyone!!? Help!"

Trying to keep the mask on him while he was flailing about, you sat him up when with one more rattling cough, he covered the inside of it with dark red blood, the machines now ringing even faster in your ear.

"You need to leave!"

Stepping to the side and pressing yourself up against the wall as several nurses and a doctor barged by you, you wrung your hands and slid across it slowly towards the exit, crashing into Connor who was hovering in the doorway, his face contorted in fear.

[thelapismoon]

MCSM S2 E4 Commentary

Wow I have forgotten what this episode even was about. *whispers* I actually never finished watching a playthrough so I guess I'll see some knew stuff. Heh. I'm scared. I managed to get changed, get my food, update my tumblr, and this thing is only 55% complete. HOW LONG IS THIS EPISODE? 

Quite funny that I've already said this much stuff and the episode hasn't even completed downloading. I wonder who actually ever reads this? Sorry about not writing my commentary for the last episode. I just didn't want to stop the episode every three seconds to write. Speaking of that, I might just paused every ten minutes to write. Huh. Thank god it's at 83%. I'm worried. This soundtrack, oml. It's finally done downloading. See you on the other side. Is Radar the narrator now? Admin, Admin, let me like you. I want more Warden interactions. Oh look at this awful frame rate- that's my fault Wait I forgot that I gave in and became a guard. Nurm, I love you. Warden didn't deserve to die. This lighting tho. 10/10. Radar, if you're trying to make me feel bad, it's not working. Nurmie-hurmie, I could never leave you behind, dear. Please don't hurt Xara, telltale. That facial expression. NGHHH FEELS. *singing* Holy shiet. Radar you better be careful because I won't hesitate. Nurm can I hug you? I feel like if that was actual minecraft logic, that jump would've killed us. ITS H I M I love this music, reminds me of some old western but.. dorky. Baby zombie. Tag urself, I'm Xara. NURM. Don't cry.. Let me wipe the tears away, you poor soul. Nghh Jack and Nurm are a perfect couple. If something happens to EITHER of them, I'm gonna throw some hands. You sure that isn't just a carpet..? I haven't played minecraft in like three years so.. Poor Xara. Wtf is wrong with you guys?! Um... NO I DO CARE!! Can I lay down next to you? Well.. Bye? OH NO I SUCK AT FIGHTING. Oh my gosh, this is the first time I survived in one try. Yees. R A D A R. I swear to Persson... Hm. NGHHHH I'm only going to do this because if I don't, Nurm is gonna cry. And I refuse to let. Nurm. Cry. Argh. You're all ungrateful swines. Who is that? Hm. I want to draw her. OH shoot my iPad is at 5% power. "1 night in Fred's house"? That sounds extremely CONVENIENT. Hello, Binta. You look... Nice. *cough* Everyone here seems.. Off. Oh hi Kent. Bye Kent. Gonna just... Slowly walk away. Lapis blue..? *cackles because you must know by now* Wow, good job, Jesse. You just ruined the moment. Can't wait for that to be a running gag no one will stop talking about for two weeks. *sigh* I can't stop thinking about Star Wars right now... Ngh.. F o c u s. Wow I'm actually really proud of this. Oh look, I won. Well now I feel bad. Me and my darn feelings.. WAIT THEY WERE PRETTY CAN I- Argh. I don't like these people. <<nothing much until the Ivor fight because there wasn't much to say>> Doodle doodle doo everything is nice and calm POTION. NGHHHH!!! Oh shiet I don't have a sword. I have a feeling I know who it is <<well of course I do>> Welp, honey, If you gotta kill me, at least I'll know my favorite character of all time did it to me. Hope this stains your conscious, Ivor. Ivor, my love, you're back! <<me the first time I saw him, YES. OH MY GOD. YES. YES!!! HES BACK! HES BACK! ARGHHHH! HES BACK! AHAAAA!>> My sweet alchemist, let me hug you on behalf of my friend and just because I love you so very much. I totally wasn't writing fanfiction about you two hours ago :,)) AGHHH. Ivor, can I just hug you for the rest of eternity? Oh my god I think I'm going to start crying. He looks... Slightly off... CAN YOU HEAR THAT? THOSE CHORDS!!! Those are IVOR'S theme. ACK I love him. Oh wait yeh, ninja, I have questions... Shiet, Ivor. You punched a forest worth of trees? Add that to my scar-headcanon-list. I can't believe they made Ivor the karate kid When his voice gets really deep and husky oh my lord... You know who I'm thinking of.. *looks at you Zoe* Can I hug you? Sweet old man I love you. Harper? Where IS Harper? *hack* where is Soren also? Mmmmm I'm getting all these good vibes now I gotta drop some stuff in the Ivor askbox once I'm done. Darn I wanted the old order to come back :( If Ivor.. shows some type of question of authority towards the admin... Oh my.. "Disappear", hm? Wait.. Okay Ivor's voice ;v; What if Ivor actually killed Jesse? I'd like to read a fic about THAT. Ivor is whispering, I can hug him, he's being witty! everything I could ever want is happening. Ivor's voice lines are my Christmas present. I love you, Ivor. Oh my gosh he looks so short next to Petra. NO DONT GO. Actually. Wait. DO go, If the admin suspects anything of you or even dares to TOUCH you, I will lose my god dang  m i n d Ivor Ivor Ivor. Farewell, my beloved... Okay I'm sorry you all had to see that. I thought I had hallucinated ninja Ivor at first tbh. Well now what? I don't even really wanna play after that.. Argh, I gotta finish this or else I won't be able to play the new episode tomorrow. Stay strong, Lapis. Weren't these two people based off of the great British baking show hosts? I love that show. And now I'm craving cake. Ugh I don't wanna fight in there, don't you know that I suck at fighting? Argh. I wanna read some fic now. Horrifying, hm? I know exactly what I'm gonna do... Okay well that was definitely PG-13 We're gonna forget that ever happened. Heh. *coughs* Hmm.. I'm gonna choose "please don't hit me". RADAR! PUT A SHIRT ON! You're a CHild! Well I just deleted all of the commentary after this so.. *insert distant screeching* Ooo Radar's feet I feel mildly bad about that.. LEVEL SIX HUNDRED?! Boy I don't have TIME for that! Wait WHAT?! Sweet J E S U S. AAA WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!! *panicked screaming* Aaaaaand now I'm dead. Darn. Okay... Oh my gosh that golemn death scene! I smell some foreshadowing.. Romeo.. Death by water? I should keep my mouth shut. That was sick, man. There's MORE?! That's it, I want this to END. Wow that attention to detail.. Me and my darn Romeo-loving-heart. There has to be SOME type of redemption. They could do so much with him... Tbh my friends think I'm crazy because of how I like Romeo but ARGH I like villains, okay?! "Just kids" just started playing INSIDE THE CABIN and now I wanna flip onto Romeo's bed and cry. NGHHH MY FEELS!!!!!!!!!! The music just synced up perfectly. *sigh* I relate to Petra too much.. I want to burst out crying now, this hit too close to home! Petra has never been my favorite character but I can relate to her on a spiritual level. Man I came to have a good time and now I'm feeling personally attacked. AND THIS SAD MUSIC ISN'T HELPING Potato451? Hmm Potato backwards is Otatop. Top? Ota.. Obsidian? Top? The top? Top of the world? The sky? I'm probably taking this way too outta context. OUCH. ma feels. ... Just kids. IS SHE CRYING?! OH MY GOD CAN I ALSO CRY???? Wait this is changing my story? Oh god what have I done? <<later>> Hello, Xara, darling. What exactly did she "repair"? Have a bed, forget my hypocrisy. Wait.. where did she go? FIGHTING argh. Wow I'm alive. Hey Jack. Oh yeh I was gonna go back and save his eye. ..can I do that? I hope that wouldn't corrupt my save file. Okay.. Oh no radar or Fred's people? Radar... I'll see you on the other side. I have a bad feeling about leaving him. But it's his time to shine, and I won't take it from him. The order's temple.. WHO DARES GIVE ME THESE F E E L S?! Nurm just jumped into Jack's arms, everything is going swell- *sees Beacontown* Oh fuuuuu WAIT NO DONT YOU DARE CUT OFF RIGHT NOW!!! Oh my gosh it's Jack's lament. 50% 50% on the scavenger deal, hm. 51% won? That contest was easy. 32% promised to stay with Petra 50% on giving Xara her bed 51% took Fred's friends MMM JACK YOUR BEAUTIFUL VOICE. I listen to that song everyday. LUKAS NOOOOOOO N O NOPE NOOOOOOOOOO LUKASSSSSSSSSSS ARGHHHHHGHHHHHHG I'm lucky that the next episode comes out in 22 hours, wow I'm late. Toodle loo until tomorrow, dears!

[matildashoney]

Beach Behavior

MASTERLIST // TAGLIST // TAGS

TAG LIST: @cronias13, @irishfireandice, @detroitkiwis, @gucciwins​, @tobeso-narrie​, @smokeinherperfume​, @rainbowparadiseharry​, @inmygardensuit​, @afterstylesmadeit​, @styles217​, @ursogoldenshan​, @cock-a-doodely-doo, @blackxxmagicc, @goldenfeelin, @stellarboystyles, @bfharry​, @bopbopstyles​

Mallorca is very hot in July. Not that anyone expected anything less, but it is very hot.

Maggie, who is already reaching a body heat that she never thought imaginable, is sweating in the chair that they rented from the beachfront earlier that morning. Harry’s spare sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose – because she conveniently forgot hers before they left this morning – and a towel splayed over her thighs as she mindlessly munches on a fruit bowl that they bought at the local market on their way to the beach, her tummy very much in the way of seeing anything below her belly button. Harry is tossing a football back and forth with their friends, Connor and Will drinking along while Carson and Melanie lay on their towels beside Maggie.

“Feeling okay, Mags?” Melanie asks, taking a swig from her beer and sticking it in the sand as she turns onto her front and faces her friend.

“Feel like,” Maggie hums, hesitating for a moment as Harry’s back tenses as he tosses the football in the air, the way his muscles contract making her hormones overly enticed by her boyfriend. “Feel like I’m eight months pregnant and in the hottest bloody weather I’ve been in, in nearly a year, but it’s nice. Like being with everyone because who knows when I’ll be able to do this, again. And I’ll have a lovely belly tan by the end of this holiday.”

“Next year we’ll do something smaller and you can bring the baby,” Melanie smiles, turning to face their friend as she opens her mouth to speak.

“Only you and Harry would decide to make your babymoon the annual holiday we all take,” Carson laughs, shaking her head and blocking the sun with her forearms. “Can see the way you’re looking at him, you’re itching to get that boy back into bed with you.”

Maggie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, the only saviour being that the sun is blocking any tell that her cheeks are heating. “Cannot disclose that information whether you’re right or not.”

“Oh, c’mon, Maggie. Can’t act all innocent and like you have no idea what we’re talking about when you’re pregnant with his baby. On top of the fact that we all know you had a nice, quiet dinner when we went to the bar, last night, and Harry gave you a pretty little ring to wear. No doubt you were in bed before it could even be on your hand.”

“Not like we got engaged or summat.”

“Don’t need to actually propose to be engaged, by now,” Melanie chimes, clicking her tongue and reaching forward to take an apple from the bowl. “Living together, having a child; Harry is basically your husband.”

Maggie rolls her eyes, trying to hide the smirk on her lips when Harry begins walking over, Connor holding the football, Will kicking sand onto Melanie’s calf teasingly as he slinks under the umbrella. Harry walks forward, setting his hands on the wooden arms of the chair, kissing Maggie sweetly and stealing a strawberry. He takes a seat in the sand in front of her, his hands on her thighs and his lips curved into a smile as his fingertips trail to where tiny toes are marking her tummy.

Harry’s voice is soft in comparison to the aggressive voices around them as Will and Melanie argue over who can chug their beer faster, Connor shamelessly flirting with Carson. He says, “Belly looks so big, right now.”

“Giving birth in five weeks, that’s probably why.” Maggie runs her fingers through his hair with a giggle, stringy and dry curls from the saltwater and sand covering his bum in the orange trunks that he’s taken to wearing today. They’re matching, much to Maggie’s complaints – although they’re all said with a smirk playing on her lips because she doesn’t really mind – and Harry’s hands have been all over her since they stepped foot in the sand. “Look cute playing football and all that. Many eyes on you.”

“Are you jealous, Chicken?” Harry smirks, his fingers playing with the cut outs of her bottoms and sneaking dangerously close to where she would prefer his hands to be in private. “Don’t have to be jealous, y’know. ‘m locked down for life.”

“Not jealous,” Maggie says, shaking her head and nudging her thumb under his chin to bring him to look at her, her fingertips tracing over his lips, “just would prefer if people stopped making googly eyes at my baby daddy.”

“That all I am to you?”

“At the moment.”

“Gave you a ring for nothing, then,” Harry laughs, kissing her hand and turning around between her legs, laying his head on her thighs and leaning into the way her fingers comb through his hair.

“Feel like, after all these years, your proposal will be a bit more elaborate than saying, ‘Know that you’re tired of weird men trying to chat you up because you’re pregnant, so this is kinda like an ‘I’m taken. Lay off’ ring’, you know.”

“Alright, that’s a fair assumption,” he says, gently massaging her calves as her nails scratch through his scalp soothingly. “If I were to ever propose, how would you expect me to do it?”

“Don’t know, actually,” Maggie breathes, soaking in the coastal breeze and wiping away the sweat lining her hairline. “All I know is that I am sweating and need to cool off. Can you help me up?”

“’Course, lovey,” Harry smiles, standing up and turning around, taking Maggie’s hands and grinning to himself as her belly bumps into his. “Look at how pregnant you are.”

“Keep saying that as if it changes,” she giggles, pointing towards the sun cream and stepping beneath the umbrella. “Can you lather it all over the belly?”

Harry smirks, his hands already inching towards the waistband of her bottoms. “Absolutely.”

“Hands above the bikini, Styles.”

“Go on, Mags, make all the fun disappear.” Harry squeezes the lotion into his hand, laughing when Maggie playfully smacks his arm, his hands rubbing the cream all over her taut belly, feeling the way the baby is squirming and moving inside her tummy. “Can sneak away to one of those cabanas and we’d be all private.”

“Only place you’re taking me, right now, is the ocean,” Maggie says sternly, kissing his cheek and stepping out of the umbrella, holding her hand out for him to lock their fingers together.

“Are you going in, Mags?” Melanie shouts from behind them, Will and Connor following closely behind, leaving Carson tagging along last. “Will, let’s go.”

“Come on,” Harry nods, continuing walking with Maggie and waiting for their friends to meet their pace, the sand burning the soles of their feet as they walk. His eyes fall to wear the bows on Maggie’s shoulders are beginning to loosen, her chest nearly falling out as she lightly jumps over a jutting shell in the sand. “One wrong move, Chicken, and your tits are going to be ogled by everyone on this beach.”

“That’s why we have straps we can tighten,” Maggie laughs, sighing a breath of relief as the water washes over their toes. “Can untie the straps and do them tighter so it won’t fall off.”

“Alright,” Harry smirks, kissing her shoulder and waiting for her hand to hold her bikini to her chest, waiting for him to tighten the straps and adjust the fit. “All good.”

“Think you can still hold me in the water,” she giggles, wiggling her eyebrows as he takes her hand and drags her into the ocean with their best friends, Carson and Melanie already climbing onto Will and Connor’s shoulders to play an obnoxious game of chicken. Harry grabs her hand, tugging her into his chest, and sliding his hands beneath her thighs to lift her onto his waist. “Hands off my ass. That’s for the bedroom, not the beach.”

“Could be for both if you let me.” Harry shrugs, a smirk toying at the corner of his lips as he turns their bodies slightly to avoid the wave breaking. Maggie’s face falls to his shoulder, pushing the sunglasses further up her nose and pursing her lips together as she thinks.

“Not a chance.”

“Dare you to keep teasing me, Mags.”

Maggie snickers, shaking her head and planting a wet kiss onto Harry’s cheek, her lips lingering by his ear as she whispers, “Can’t do that here because I won’t be able to keep quiet.”

“Don’t pregnant women get repulsed by sex? Aren’t you supposed to hate me, by now?”

“Harry, are you really complaining that your very pregnant girlfriend wants to have sex with you?”

“Not one bit,” Harry retorts, kissing the cut of her jaw and suckling a mark in the dip of her collarbone. “Confused s’all, because you didn’t want me to touch you this morning. Thought we were getting to that point in your pregnancy.”

“Maybe I was,” Maggie says, sucking in a breath as a wave smacks against Harry’s back. “You okay?” Harry nods, squeezing her hip and encouraging her to continue. “But then, you were playing with everyone in these trunks and your muscles were flexed and it was, nice. Great sight for your very pregnant girlfriend.”

His mouth is turned into a grin that everyone can tell the meaning behind. Connor and Will laughing and Melanie and Carson smacking their heads and telling them to continue with their game. His teeth nip at her shoulder, kissing the bare skin. “Happy to change your mind, then.”

“Don’t make any plans before our dinner reservation, Styles.”

He very well knows but hearing her say it makes his entire body ignite on fire. “Alright, why?”

Harry’s spine shivers in the water as Maggie’s lips press against the shell of his ear, her words barely above a whisper, “Because I think today is the day, we walk to our dinner reservations freshly fucked and satisfied. Can do it in the bed or the shower, you decide.”

“Maggie Jean, you are going to kill me.”

Maggie giggles, “No, I’m not.”

“Now, I can’t get out of the bloody water because my dick is hard, so maybe you have this time.”

Connor and Carson turn to Harry and Maggie, Connor already scooping Carson onto his back, his voice travelling over the waves crashing in the distance. “Our reservations are in two hours we should head out so we can make it into town early.”

“Alright!” Maggie chirps, kissing Harry’s cheek and slipping down his thighs, his hands holding her hips relatively close to mask the tent in his trunks. “Get it together.”

“Maggie, you have no idea how hard it is to keep it together, right now,” Harry breathes, walking out behind her and immediately taking a towel to wrap around his waist.

Maggie smirks, shrugging her shoulders and squatting to reach one of their bags, her hand holding his thigh for support. “From what I can see, it seems very hard.”

Harry groans, taking her hand and helping her stand, shaking his head as she smirks innocently, Connor and Carson still oblivious as Will and Melanie take the lead back to their string of villas. “I hate you; I really do.”

“Don’t think that in any universe that exists, you could hate me.”

“Maybe, but you’re really testing that theory.”

And Harry and Maggie walk with their friends to the villas, waving goodbye as they step inside and agreeing to meet in an hour and ten minutes, giving enough time to get into town and make their reservations without rushing.

Harry’s hands are all over Maggie as soon as the shuts behind him, his mouth pressing hard kisses to her neck and shoulder as his fingertips pull at the strings on her swimsuit, her laughter echoing around their tiny space as his slight stubble tickles her skin.

“Quit laughing at me or I’ll go have one out in the shower and leave you high and dry.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, lovey.”

And Harry and Maggie stare at each other seriously, waiting for the other to break in their façade. Maggie is too stubborn, Harry too willing to win. That is, until Connor is calling Harry and telling him that they’ll be ready to meet at their villa sooner and Harry’s dragging Maggie into the shower.

“I always win.”

“That’s not true.”

Maggie narrows her eyes, her lips ghosting across Harry’s as he smirks, his hands travelling between her thighs. “Yes, it is. Say it.”

“Fine, it is. You always win, Mags.”

Harry rolls his eyes as Maggie laughs, shaking his head and soaking in the way their sex sounds around the bathroom, the way the steam heats the mirrors as they get dressed and ready to meet their friends. Over the last eight months, they’ve perfected their timing, their ability to never be late even if they needed to sneak one in before meeting everyone.

And usually, it goes unnoticed.

Will snorts as soon as Harry walks through the door. “Maggie, maybe leave the hickey somewhere a little less noticeable next time.”

[redvanillabee]

behold: aroace jack thompson

Since before the war, there’s always been talk that he would get the girl. His college friends could see it; girls would have their attention on him. He just turns a blind eye to them.

His family expects that of him too. ‘When are you bringing home a girl?’ Gam-gam would ask. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he’s not interested.

But then of course, war.

He...experimented, of course. He’s not stupid; he knew there were men who felt That Way about other men. And maybe if he didn’t feel anything for women, maybe he’s just been looking in the wrong places?

(Nope. He still didn’t feel anything.) (He’s not broken. He swears he’s not broken.) (Is he?)

The chatter only ratcheted up once he returns from the Pacific. A dashing young man and now a freshly minted war hero? Dames will be falling over themselves to be with you!!

He shrugs them off as best he can (and tries not to think too much about the Navy Cross). I just arrived home for God’s sake, let me take a breather first. Like you said, I’m a war hero. You think I can’t get any girl I want when I want to? (accompanied with an infuriating smirk that hides all the pain). Work comes first now; no girl’s gonna want to shack up with a fella who can’t afford anything better than a dingy apartment.

The bullpen banter was a good disguise. Is your missus being a nag again? Ahaha ball and chain amirite ahahahaha. If everyone thinks he’s a cynical bachelor who refuses to settle down...well, he has no reason to correct them. It gets people off his case.

Carter and Sousa. Right.

Here’s the thing. Just because he doesn’t understand those feelings at all, that doesn’t mean he can’t see it when it’s staring at him in the face.

(Well Carter’s better at hiding it. Sousa...bless his soul, they could probably see him pining all the way from the moon.)

Sending Carter to LA was as much a prank as it was him playing the sage, wise matchmaker. If anything, they click. The perfect balance of brain and brawn. Motivating while keeping each other in check. They make a formidable duo.

Sousa. Getting married.

He hopes he doesn’t look too disappointed. Marriage. Right. You congratulate people for that.

But he can see it all play out. No more after-work drinks and long talks into the night; the missus is waiting at home with dinner. Kids. Plural. School plays and weekend football games. Family trips in the summer. Taking multiple days off to be with the kids for Christmas.

Sousa is the closest thing he has to a friend in years. But right now he can see how it goes. Before long, he will be nothing but a figure in the past. A lone spectre peeking through the window into domestic bliss.

He’ll be damn lucky if he gets a Christmas card.

There was never any question about him flying back to New York. Why would there be? There’s work to return to. Any hiccups that has kept him longer than expected in this godforsaken state that can’t even make a decent slice of pizza are solved. There’s nothing here for him.

The phone rings. Carter says she is taking the rest of her vacation days. He bites his tongue so he won’t point out how breathless she sounds, or how the background noises on her end sounded exactly like Sousa’s office. Vacation my ass. Her reason for staying is clear as day.

Alright Carter. Just don’t forget you still work for me.

Have a safe flight, Jack. click. 

Don’t get him wrong, he is happy for them. This was what he wanted when he sent her out west, wasn’t it? But he can’t stop that pang in his heart. This little...he dared not use the word family, but squad, team, that he has found for himself in these baffling post-war years. Just like that, it’s all gone. And how like him that he had a hand in its undoing. No more tweedle dee, tweedle doo, and tweedle dum. No more three musketeers. When...if they ever hang out together again, it’ll be a sweet couple and their loner friend just tagging along.

You can all still hang out as friends, a voice suggested in his head, but even it did not sound entirely convinced. The same pictures flashed across his mind: wedding. Kids. Football games. Summer trips. Playing Santa. 

He threw the last of his shirts mindlessly into the open suitcase. Why should he be surprised? He always knew it would come to this, didn’t he?

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

hear me out: aroace Jack Thompson

[face-turn]

All I Do Is Drive

Pairing: Sami Zayn/Dean Ambrose   Words: 3.1k Rating: G A/N: i have.. no explanation. take this from my hands. for context, this was written after smackdown on 8/29. thank u @breadclubrising for ur encouragement  Tags: I.. guess let me know if you want to be tagged in Sambrose content in the future 

Sami’s stretching after his match. One leg, then the other. Don’t think about Kevin’s hands. Lean all the way over his feet, nose to knees, until he feels the achy burn in his hamstrings. Stop thinking about Kevin lifting him, throwing him.

“Hey, Zayn.” 

Sami blinks and nearly topples, stumbling a couple of steps forward before hands catch the back of his leggings and rebalance him. The hands are familiar, the voice-- Sami always forgets, somehow, that Dean doesn’t have the Southern drawl that seems like it would suit him. He’s Cincinnati through-and-through, that not-an-accent accent that softens his vowels and makes him mispronounce ‘syrup’.

“Dean,” Sami says, sounding about half as baffled as he feels, which is pretty baffled. They’re not-- friends, is the thing. Up until right now, Sami had no reason to believe that Dean even remembered his name. The last time they’d spoken was-- what, a year ago? “Good match earlier. You looked, uh. Good. In your match.”

Dean chomps his gum, blowing a fragile chewing-gum bubble that pops immediately. Sami can smell the mint.

“Thanks, thanks. Hey, d’you wanna go out later?” He says it like Sami hasn’t just finished being the most awkward person on the planet. It’s something that Sami has always appreciated about Dean. His willingness to overlook just about anything. He might just be unobservant, but Sami’s always been willing to give the benefit of the doubt. Again and again and again. Stupid.

Sami is startled enough by the question, anyway, to pause. He actually glances around to make sure Kevin or someone isn’t peeking around a corner, Scooby-Doo style. He trusts Dean, as far as anyone can trust someone who’s teaming with someone who’s punched you in the face before, but-- well. He’s teaming with someone who’s punched Sami in the face before.

“Oh, I-- I can’t, I don’t drink.” That’s all anyone does when they go out later. Someday, someone’s going to ask Sami if he wants to go out later, and they’ll mean... feeding ducks, or going ice skating, or--

“Naw, I was thinkin’, like. Going for a walk maybe? There’s a haunted hotel and I bet I can see a fuckin’ ghost.”

Sami squints at him, then considers his plans for the evening, which had mostly been made up of slouching around eating store-bought hummus and carrot chips.

“Yeah, okay. Do you have a car, because I was riding with, uh--” Sami studiously avoids Dean’s eyes, which have widened with surprise for a moment. Do people not usually go with him to-- haunted houses, or whatever? Dean has friends, right? “Yeah, yeah, I got it. You know me, big star. Sharing rides is for scrubs.” Dean snaps his gum and jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m parked in the further lots. Want me to swing around and pick you up?”

Sami considers his things in his bag at his feet, the ring gear currently sticking to his thighs. “If you’ll wait five minutes, I’ll walk with you?” He doesn’t mean to phrase it as a question. It just comes out that way.

“Go shower, Zayn,” Dean taps his bare wrist. “You’re on the clock now, brother. Get.”

Sami gets. The shower is barely lukewarm and the water pressure is pretty much what you’d expect, but it’s still nice to get out of sweaty gear and into sweatpants and a soft hoodie. It’s not weird to wear your own merch out of the ring, right? Right.

Sami wishes, foolishly, for a second, that he had something nicer to change into, but-- it’s not a date. And even if it were, Sami knows, Dean wouldn’t care. That’s another thing that Sami’s always liked about Dean. Kevin had always had something to say about what Sami was wearing, but Dean-- Sami’s pretty sure that he could wear a trash bag to hang out with him and Dean would just accept that. He wonders if Dean even owns a suit.

He loses a few seconds contemplating that image, halfway through tying the drawstring on his sweatpants tighter. Dean has to have a suit, right? He went to the hall of fame-- thing. Sami resolves to google it.

He ducks out of the locker room, expecting to sort of have to hunt Dean down. He doesn’t know if Dean’s actually the type to wander away when he gets bored, but Kevin always had and sometimes Sami had been left behind as a result. But no, there he is, leaning up against the wall, wearing jeans that really just highlight how narrow his waist is. Sami wonders if he sleeps in jeans, or what. He can’t imagine doing that-- but then again, he can’t imagine wanting to wrestle in jeans, either, but Dean is really good at that.

“Sami Zayn!” Dean says, like they’re just running into each other and he hasn’t been waiting.

“Hi,” Sami says, flustered. “Did I beat the clock?”

“Oh, I dunno-- man, I don’t have a watch.”

Sami can’t help but laugh, even though he’s not completely sure that Dean’s telling a joke. Dean’s mouth quirks up, though, so at the very least he’s not offended by Sami laughing in his face.

“You ready to rumble, big--Zayn? Big Zayn?” Sami takes the stumble in stride. Dean’s not the only one who can ignore awkward conversational tics.

“Sure am. How far away is this hotel?” “Oh,” Dean says, looking a little shifty. “You know.”

Sami obviously doesn’t know, but he lets it slide. He’d go even if it were four hours away. He can let Dean keep secrets.

“Okay,” He says when Dean doesn’t stop eyeing him expectantly. “I don’t care.”

“Cool,” Dean bobs on his heels. Back and forth. “Cool cool. Car’s this way, lemme just--” He shoulders Sami’s bag, even though Sami could absolutely carry his own bag. Just because he’s been losing a lot doesn’t mean he’s incapable.

It’s-- kind of nice, though. Thoughtful. Sami can’t remember the last person to carry his bag for him when he wasn’t even injured. Finn, maybe? Not Kevin. He wishes he could stop thinking about Kevin. Sami doesn’t want to give Kevin the satisfaction of keeping him in mind, but-- well. Sami can’t help it. At least Kevin never has to know.

Sami half expects the walk to the car to be uncomfortably silent. They don’t have that much in common, as far as he knows, and Dean doesn’t really seem like a small talk kind of guy. What he doesn’t count on, though, is Dean being so excited about everything.

“D’you think that we’ll see a ghost, or just hear one? Or maybe some, like-- ghost noises. Like footsteps.” Sami, who isn’t necessarily a believer in ghosts, ponders this. “I think-- if you hear them, I think they’ll be racist?”

Dean actually stops walking for a second. “-- Yeah?” He sounds cautiously interested.

“There were lynchings here,” Sami nods, turning to walk backwards so he can keep talking without feeling rude. “Not even a hundred years ago. And I’d like to think that, uh. The people who get lynched get to go to heaven, or whatever they believe in. So they wouldn’t be ghosts?”

As soon as he’s done saying it, Sami feels silly for thinking through the logic of it, but Dean’s nodding and walking again, lengthening his strides to catch up.

“Good call,” He says slowly, shrugging Sami’s bag up higher. “Next question-- you think I can wrestle a ghost?”

As soon as they get into the car, Dean pops in a CD while studiously not looking at Sami out of the corner of his eye. It’s fine-- not really Sami’s thing, some kind of slowish countryish Johnny Cash situation, but he knows from personal experience that the tension down Dean’s spine is an anxious desire for approval. He bops along like he would to his music, and Dean’s shoulders relax. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a crooked little grin and his fingers tap on the steering wheel as they peel out.

It’s worth the white lie.

Dean’s a fun road trip partner, even when the road trip isn’t especially long. He’s willing to sit in silence when the conversation dies naturally, but he’s also a crack-shot at eye-spy and an amusingly sore loser of never-have-I-ever.

“You can’t tell me you’ve really never--” “Dean, I absolutely promise that I’ve really never--” “No, everyone’s tried that!” “No! Not everyone has tried to ride a horse naked. I don’t-- I don’t think anyone’s tried that!”

Sami’s face hurts with how hard he’s been smiling. Dean keeps sneaking smug little glances at him, which just makes Sami smile harder.

‘Hey, Zayn,” Dean says, all faux-casual in a way that makes Sami laugh. An actor Dean is not.

“Hey, Dean.”

“Truth or dare?” Dean’s eyes are glued to the road, even though they haven’t seen another car in probably ten minutes.

“Truth. I don’t want to know what kind of dares you can come up with in a moving car.” Sami takes the change of game in stride. Dean laughs low, tongue sticking out just a little bit. “I know you’re no coward, Zayn, so I’m gonna let that one slide. D’you believe in love at first sight?” Sami lets his head bonk back against the headrest. “Yeah,” He says, more slowly than he once might have. His voice sticks in his throat. “But I think-- love like that isn’t forever, you know? You need a foundation.” Dean’s looking at him, and Sami can feel heat creeping up into his cheeks when he turns his face away.

Dean’s voice is quiet when he says, “Yeah. You got a real good head on your shoulders, Sami Zayn.”

When they get to the hotel, Sami’s half-asleep in his seat. He feels a little bit like Dean has been stealing his energy, because Dean is hype as fuck. He’s nearly bouncing as he unbuckles his seatbelt, darting thrilled glances over at Sami.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” He-- he doesn’t chirp it, quite, but only because he has a deep voice that doesn’t permit for things like that.

Sami grumbles, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand and stretching out his back. He hides a yawn in the bend of his elbow, and when he looks up Dean is smiling at him. Fondly? Is that what fondness looks like on Dean’s face?

“I think I’m too sleepy to fight a ghost,” Sami says, unbuckling and getting out. The grass is wet with after-midnight dew.

“I’ll protect your honor,” Dean says mildly, bouncing up and down. He’s still holding Sami’s bag. “I won’t even let a ghost possess you.” “Oh, wow. Thanks, Dean.” Sami puts one hand over his chest, faux-swooning. “You won’t even let me get my body snatched. Golly!” “Can it, battery man. I’m doing you a favor here.”

They walk in together, jostling elbows and shoulders in a friendly competitive way. The woman working the counter looks professionally bored. Sami’s sure she’d seen much stranger. He wonders if she’s ever seen a ghost, or just lots of drunk people. He’s not going to ask.

“Evening ma’am,” Dean says, propping his elbow on the counter and fishing around for his wallet. “I’d like one of your most haunted rooms, please.” The woman looks politely amused. Maybe like she’s glad to break up the monotony of the evening. “You don’t have a reservation? Let me see what I have free for you.”

“Haunting is not guaranteed,” Sami reads off of a sign propped on the desk. “Dean, if we don’t see a ghost, it’s not the hotel’s fault.” “It’s the racist ghost’s fault,” Dean confirms, sliding his card and I.D. across the counter when the clerk gestures for it. “Not relevant, though. We’re gonna see a ghost.”

Sami wanders a little ways a way to give Dean privacy when he and the clerk start talking about money. There’s brochures all over the place, each loudly trumpeting a road trip destination in Arkansas. Sami’s never bothered to do all the road trip stuff before-- getting to wrestle most days is its own reward. It feels weird to get greedy with his entertainment. Dean seems to like it, though. And he’d been surprised when Sami had been willing to go with him to this hotel. He doesn’t know if Dean wants to ride with him again, or if he’s going to start riding with Seth Rollins, or something. It’s okay, Sami decides, if Dean wants to take the brochures and go do stuff with Seth. They’re probably actually friends. Sami picks out a few and  clutches them to his side.

“I have bad news,” Dean says when Sami sidles up. The desk clerk has gone back to ignoring them both. “Is there only one bed? I can sleep on the floor, I don’t mind, it’s fine. I can give you money for the room, also. Sorry.” 

Dean blinks at him. “No? No. None of that. We only got the third most haunted room, so I’m gonna need you to look really appealing to ghosts.” “Oh,” Sami says. How is he supposed to look appealing to ghosts? “Uh, okay. I’ll work on that, I guess.” “See, the problem is that you’re too attractive to the living right now,” Dean tells him very seriously. He guides Sami over to the stairs with a hand low on his back. Sami gets a weird quiver in his stomach. “You’re gonna have to seduce the dead.” Sami makes a face. “I don’t want to seduce a racist.” He declines. “That can be your job.” “No, I’m the ghost hunter. You’re the bait. Maybe it’s a perfectly nice lady ghost who died in the hotel.” He peeks at Sami out of the corner of his eye. “Gentleman?” “Either,” Sami says absently, then very determinedly stares straight ahead while he goes cold all down his spine.

“Cool. Cool cool. Equal opportunity ghost bait.” Dean says, looking very relieved. He is taking this ghost hunting thing very seriously, Sami thinks.

Sami, still flushing a little with embarrassment and trying not to hunch his shoulders uncomfortably just bobs a nod. The hotel is loud in the way that all old buildings are, all sorts of creaking and popping and rattling. When he sneaks a look at Dean, Dean’s looking enthralled and delighted. 

Sami just feels a little creeped out.

“This is us,” Dean says when they reach the third landing, bumping the door open with his shoulder. “The most haunted floor.”

“Dean, did you ask her to rank the floors and rooms in terms of hauntedness?” Dean’s face says that he absolutely did do that. He avoids Sami’s gaze like a guilty dog and doesn’t answer, just pulls out an old-fashioned door key and starts counting doors down the hall. 

“Five, six, sev-- here we go.” He hitches Sami’s bag up higher and opens the door. It’s a little sticky, and the little hesitation makes Sami hold his breath. You don’t even believe in ghosts, he reminds himself. He feels like he can feel someone watching him.

The door swings open on well-oiled hinges and Dean hits the light, setting down Sami’s bag and dropping his next to it. There are two beds. It’s a pretty nice room, truthfully. Much nicer than the ones Sami used to stay in when he was in the indies. He’s pretty sure Dean is thinking the same thing. Maybe not. Kevin likes to pretend he never even had a career in the indies. Maybe Sami’s the weird one. “Does it feel haunted in here to you?” Dean asks critically, breaking Sami’s train of thought.

“Yes,” Sami says immediately, because he still feels weirdly prickly all over. Also, he doesn’t want Dean to try and change rooms. He’s already taking his shoes off. “Super haunted.”

Dean starts picking the laces of his shoes, staring around dubiously. “D’you think if I ask for a ghost, one will come out?” “Probably not,” Sami says, flopping onto the bed closer to the door and snuggling deeper into his hoodie. “You should have brought a list of questions to ask it, or something.”

Dean contemplates this, kicking off his shoes and wiggling out of his jeans. Sami tries not to look, because it’s definitely a weird invasion of privacy to stare at your coworker’s legs, but Dean has really good thighs and nice-to-look-at knees and he’s only human, okay? He looks away before Dean can catch him.

Dean sits on the bed that Sami’s chosen, flopping backwards across Sami’s legs and stretching his arms up. Sami guesses that they’re friends? This is definitely friendly. “Hey, man. I know this is kind of an imposition, but, uh. Thanks for coming. Pro’lly wouldn’t have come without you.”

Sami’s stomach flips. “Dean, can I--” His sentence peters out when Dean actually meets his eyes. “--Uh.” “You can ‘uh’ whenever you want, brother,” Dean says serenely. His head is cocked like a big puppy. Maybe he’s listening for ghostly footsteps.

“Shut up, I was, uh. Can I ride with you again? This was really cool and-- I don’t know, I kind of-- I have pamphlets? There’s a wax museum that looks really creepy, I don’t know.”

“You askin’ me to go steady, Sami Zayn?”

Sami can’t look at Dean. He puts his hands over his face. “-- No! Yes? I don’t know, Dean, you confuse me.” Dean makes a humming noise and sits up off of Sami’s legs. Sami feels the bed dip down close to him.

“Lemme just-- know if i’m misreading this, cool?” Dean’s fingers are cool on Sami’s wrists as he pulls Sami’s hands away from his face.

Sami doesn’t even have time to make his eyebrows form a questioning configuration before Dean’s kissing him. It’s really soft. It’s probably the most romantic kiss he’s ever had, and it’s in a haunted hotel.

At that thought, Sami startles backwards. Dean looks a little sad and confused to not be kissing him, which gives Sami the good kind of punch to the stomach.

“Dean, we can’t!” Before Dean starts looking more upset than mullish, Sami hurries on. “I don’t want an old-timey racist ghost to watch us make out.”

Dean’s eyebrows fold down. For a second, Sami thinks that he’s angry or sad, but Dean just nods.

“This is what I get for trying to seduce you with the allure of the unexplained,” He says, apparently accepting his fate. He might be quoting from a ghost show.

“You, uh-- don’t need to seduce me? I’m… seduced. I guess. I think you’re really great.” “That’s because I already seduced you, Sami,” Dean taps his temple. “Playin’ the long game.” Privately, Sami doesn’t necessarily think that the afternoon and a majority of the evening is the long game, but if Dean will let him hold his hand at the wax museum or whatever weird thing they decide to do, he’ll count it as a win.

Footsteps echo above them, and Dean looks up with a flash of dimples that take Sami’s’ breath away. Yeah. Definitely a win.

[malyga]

92 TRUTHS !!!

Sorry for the late qwq @holiwissoygigi WOOP I GOT TAGGED :3

LAST :

Drink : ~~~~Cola ~~~~ Phone call : My boss >_> Text message : “Dinner :O” Last time i cried : yesterday T^T

HAVE YOU EVER : Dated someone : Yeah !¡!¡!¡! Been cheated on : i hope not Kissed someone and regret it:Nope Lost someone special : my granddad Been depressed : the last 3-4 days before that nah  Been drunk and Thrown up : Aye, bit to few times >_>

3 FAVOURITE COLOURS : BLACK AND WHITE :3

IN THE PAST YEAR HAVE YOU :

Made a new friend : Yeahh nWn Fallen out of love: Nooo Laughed until you cried : Haha yes Met someone who changed you : Bigtime  Found out who your true friends » are : Friends LUL, all i got is gaming communities :3  Found out someone talking about » you : Yes, and it was really awkward

GENERAL :

How many people in Tumblr do »»» you know in real life : 2 people :O Do you have any pets? : im horrible i named my cat Pepsi, and i prefer cola >_> Do you wan’t to change your name? : kinda, my name is War and it sounds so wierd when i introduce myself to english people >_>_>_>_>_> What did you do for your last Birthday? : Played games 

What time did you wake up this morning : not yet gone 2 sleep, nier automatica is WAY TOO GOOD What were you doing last night : watching streams and anime :3

Name something you can’t wait for : cant wait for my nintendo switch and play the new Zelda game Kreygasm

Last time you saw your mom : 1 hour ago +-

What is one thing you wish you could change about your life : i have this thing that i find to amusing and allways hurt me in the end but i have allways been dooing it and i have no clue why, i tend to lie people straigth in their face to see how they react, and if they belive it i change the story a tiny bit everytime to see how it affects people >_> im the worst lel Pronouns : YOU

Have you talked with a person named Tom : ayee  What gets on your nerves : distance and people that rage in games ( i do to but shhh) Nicknames : Neet, Phatty (sisters fault for calling me it when i was on ventrillo a few years back and everyone heard and started calling me it, used to it now tho )  Blood type : no clue :3

Status : single since 3-4 days ago >_> kmpls

Zodiac sign : Tauros

Height : 179cm 

Favourite TV show : >_> no idea

High school : DONE 

University : Drop out! Woopsie

Hair colout : brown

Long or Short : short now >_>

Do you have a crush on someone: aye, my ex, but ex be far far away T^T What do you like about yourself : dont know about myself but i love my pc setup :3

Tattos : WAAAAAAAAANT 

Righty or Lefty : Right

FIRSTS :

Surgery : Aye  Piercing : dont dare First best friend : no idea,i tend to push people away if they get to close, dont want anyone finding out about mah hentai blog ;^)))))) and im scared of having to live up to expectations  First sport you joined : Handball >football same day in 1st grade :’) First holidays abroad : probably sweeden First pair of trainers : ?? idk

RIGHT NOW :

Drinking : COLA Listening to : Rion Lee anime cover :3 Im about : to eat pizza and watch anime :3 Get married : i dont do religion Career : IT ENGINEER soon 2 be >_>

HAVE YOU EVER :

Kissed a stranger :Nope Drank hard licor : AYE and i will keep on dooin it :3 Lost glasses / contacts : aye Sex in first date : almost D_D but i ran away  Broken someones heart : maby D: Been arrested : nopee Turned someone down : aye Cried when someone died : plenty of times both in real and in fiction >_> Fallen for a friend : yes WICH IS BETTER :

Hugs or kisses : HUGS (im bad at kissing T^T)  Shorter or Taller :SHORT Older or younger : dont care if they are amazing they can be whatever Romantic or spontaneous: Neither im a shut in Lel Sensitive or Loud :Neither i listen to loud music and never talk :3 Hook up or relantionship : i dont care anymore fuck that  Trouble maker or hesitant: …….. .. a combi ?kinda DO YOU BELIEVE :

In yourself : Not anymore  Miracles : lel nah Love at first sigh : i should say no but it kinda happend atleast first meeting Heaven : Nah dude Santa :LMAO Kissing on a first date : yeah!

Who do i dare to tag >_>  cant just anyone who knows im here do this    but  @shiina-yep u can do this >_>  also anyone who see this shii :3 and have freetime im scared to tagg people im sorry