#fookin hell i guess

[sarenhale]

I was feeling bad because my expenses have been higher than usual in the past months and then I go see my expenses and the highest are groceries, therapy and gas for the car 💀💀 nevermind LMAOO

[call-sign-shark]

Savage Daughter || Shelby family x You

Summary:  When the Shelby family gathers together, chaos is never far. Yet, for once, it's not the men who bring it but you, and soon the girls join you too. (based on Ekatarina Shelehova - Savage Daughter)

Words: 1.2k

Notes:

✞ This story is linked with the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes but can be read as a stand-alone.

Slipping your finger between your diamond choker and your skin, you took a big exhale — the expensive corset you wore for the occasion was crushing your ribcage. The sound of chatters, clinging glasses, and classical music might have been loud but all you could hear was your own pulse, beating in your temples faster and faster with each labored breathing.

Your crystal eyes scanned the room, looking for your husband but it seemed that he was also in distress, standing still behind Tommy with his gaze fixed upon an invisible spot on the wall. Arthur was nervously chewing the inside of his cheek, visibly as uncomfortable as you when surrounded by all these posh guests, and yet, he had no other choice but to keep playing the bodyguard for his younger brother.

"Mr. Shelby, what a wonderful party you're hosting here! Arrow House is wonderful, I reckon." An old, ugly gentleman, dressed in a suit more expensive than everything your parents had ever owned, said with his silly accent. If being honest, he was looking absolutely ridiculous with his ears too big and his triple chin far too fat for such a small bowtie. To play the Devil's advocate, your mocking thoughts were justified: the pig had tried to grope almost every woman he had talked with. And as if this previous fact didn't render him despicable enough, he had ignored Arthur as if he were part of the ballroom's furniture. Another sigh, louder this time, escaped from your lips at the painful sensation of the blisters behind your heels when they rubbed against your tight shoes.

When Arthur came back to you, one look at his pursed lips had been enough for you to guess that he had spent the last ten minutes keeping himself from strangling the impolite Mr. Dempsey.

"Fookin' bastard, can't even say a bloody 'hello' to me. I swore I should've cut his fucking —" Stopping mid-sentence, the lanky gangster suddenly frowned and tilted its head at the sight of you taking your high heels off, only half listening to him, "The hell you're doing, angel?"

"I'm taking my heels off, that's what I do." You replied, grunting as you undid the complicated laces that were climbing up your shinbones, "And I don't care if it ain't classy or decorous, these shoes are making my skin bleed and this damn corset is suffocating me!" Talking about the corset, you pulled on the delicate silky laces to tear them apart and free your body from this inhumane trap until all you were wearing was a thin white summer dress.

"Heaven, love," Arthur tried to interrupt as he noticed how a few outraged guests were already whispering together all the while glaring at you. Among them, Tommy Shelby's arctic iris.

"I'm dead serious: I'm trapped here among hypocrites, suffering in clothes their wives criticized when they saw me while I could be outside, peacefully enjoying the immense garden of the mansion. A garden which is, by the way, the only enjoyable feature of this golden cage. All of this only because Tom wants people to believe we're all getting along in the family, tsk." Arthur closed his mouth, unable to find something to retort to your murderous prose. Maybe that was why he looked at you silently instead, a glimmer of amusement shining in his still blue eyes. "What?" You finally asked, not comprehending why the lanky gangster was now smiling, his mustache slightly lifted on one side.

"Gimme these shits." With that being said, Arthur took your heels and corset from your hands before leaning above you and kissing your forehead with indescribable tenderness, completely obliterating the rest. "Now go," The gravel in his voice rumbled, "Go run barefoot and curse at sharp stones, I ain't going to pin your wings." Of course you felt suffocating, he thought, for he knew you didn't belong here. Just like him. But while he had to remain somewhat near to his brother for the whole evening, Arthur never wished to inflict such torment on your savage soul: you were born to dance around fires, in the curves of old bones, or look for omens in the falling of feathers. Not to sip on champagne and boast about your riches with aristocratic ladies.

"Really?" You inquired, the fierceness of your face softening at your husband's surprising —and understanding— reaction. Arthur winked at you for a sole reply before turning around and barking at those who were still observing you with a loud "The fook you're looking at me wife ay? Go back to your chit-chat!". It had been the final nail in Tommy's coffin, who pinched his nose as if to stop a dawning headache — a headache that bore your name.

Offering one shark-like and insolent smile to little King Shelby, you left the ballroom running barefoot and only stopped when you found yourself in the middle of the garden, slowly spinning on yourself. With your doll-like face facing the night sky, you relished the sensation of the fresh breeze softly grazing your skin in welcoming strokes. A cheerful giggle fell from your plump lips as rays of moonlight illuminated your dainty frame like a myriad of motherly hands ready to catch you.

"Hey! Devil! You're nothing but trouble, you know that?!" A feminine voice erupted behind you, making you stop dancing and glance from where the soft lilt was coming. What was your surprise when your gaze met Ada's cunning smile! Beside her Polly was standing, her frail arms crossed on her bosom but her ebony eyes displaying an excitement she hadn't felt in years.

"I can't help it, Ada. I'm my mother's savage daughter!" You exclaimed, opening your arms to fake a pretentious bow — a move that stirred a sincere laugh from your sister-in-law.

"Tommy's mad." She said through her grin.

"Tommy's always mad. Why don't you join me?" At your offering, Ada side-eyed her dear Aunt, not sure if she could momentarily strip from the elegant Mrs. Thorne mask and be herself for once. For fuck's sake! Can't they fucking behave?! Can't your fucking wife stop fucking everything up just once eh?! Tommy's voice was roaring from the inside of Arrow House, just what Ada and Polly needed to make up their mind.

Freeing themselves from fancy hats, oppressive clothes, and painful high heels, both Polly and Ada joined you in the middle of the garden, the two of them grabbing one of your hands to form a round dance.

We are our mother's savage daughters, you sang.

I'm not joking Arthur! Did you think about what people are going to say?!

We are our mother's savage daughters, Ada followed. Her voice swirled up to the sky, each note bringing her closer to her mom she barely knew.

We will not cut our hair! We will not lower our voice! Polly's cheered louder, and as she did she was sixteen again, walking barefoot in the mud with a horse's rein in one hand and flowers in the other.

And deep in our bones, the old songs are waking So sing them with voices of thunder and rain, the wind carried your chant away. So far away that somewhere on the road, one Romani woman, fierce and beautiful, felt the wild drums of nature beating within her as she braided the hair of her adorable little girl.

"Are you okay Mom?" She asked, concerned by her mother's sudden stop.

"Yes, Katie. Yes, I am."

Esme smiled.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[glossysoap]

Glossy~! I have a question~!

I wanna try my hand at writing for the COD characters (specifically the 141 boys), but the main thing stopping me is I'm woefully self conscious about trying to use their accents/vernacular in a fic. For instance, sometimes I'm reading something and the writer is using dialog only for a section, but I can still tell who's speaking 99% of the time, bc it's easy to identify them due to their specific way of talking.

My question is, since you're one of the authors who write their voices so well, do you think you could give us some tips on how you're so good at creating such clear characterizations? Like not only word choices (i.e.: bloody/steamin'/wanker/etc) but also with vocal inflections (i.e.: wot = what/didnae = did not/etc).

I know this is a lot to ask, so whatever advice you can give is MUCH appreciated! 💖💖💖 and if any of the other COD writers see this post and wanna add to it, even better 😉💕✨️

Thank you so much for your time and consideration, I really appreciate you Glossy darling~!! 😚💕🥰

oh my god 😭 i’m sorry i’ve been holding onto this because this is one of the sweetest fucking things i’ve ever gotten 😭🫶🏻

you’re so sweet!! i’m flattered that you’re asking me because truly, the dialogue and such is one of the things i’m insecure about in my writing so 🥺🫶🏻

what i did when i first started writing for cod was watch the playthroughs a lot. both to get a feel for the characters and what they would say in certain scenarios, but also to memorize how they would speak.

now, in regards to soap and his accent, it took me a min to really get it down when it comes to writing it out. i did some research over time and found how scottish people talk and all that, and how they would personally say “couldn’t” “can’t” etc etc.

there’s also some scottish writers in this fandom that have put their two cents into this.

the consensus is that anything like “wouldn’t/couldn’t” is “wouldnae/couldnae” and “dinnae/cannae” is “don’t/can’t”

then of course there’s the “ye/yer/yers” instead of “you/yours” and “fuckin’/fookin’” instead of just “fucking”.

then there’s pet names. these are more feminine: bonnie (which can also be used to describe how pretty something is, like “oh, look at yer bonnie cunt”) and hen or lass.

i can’t think of many that are masculine except for lad, but i believe i’ve heard that you can use bonnie as describing someone/thing as handsome as well? so i would say just do some good googling lol

when it comes to the rest of the group, i just stick to ending “ing” words with “in’”. ex: “runnin’, fightin’, playin’, screamin’, cryin’” etc etc. i feel like it gives that british touch 😭

when it comes to cursing, i know that johnny uses steamin’ from that one scene “steamin’ jesus”. i think price, gaz and ghost used bloody like “bloody hell”.

if they haven’t used something in the playthrough and you’re not exactly sure, imagine them saying that in their accent and see if it sounds good.

and honestly at the end of the day, just keep practicing! practice makes perfect! seriously take it from me. my ass thought my dialogue was bad but i guess not LMAO

i love you! thank you for your kind words and support! i’m here if you have any more questions <3

[larryyouknow]

First lines

I’ve just noticed that @boosbabycakes28 tagged me in this ages ago so thank you tumblr (I guess) for the flawless notification. It sounds fun so I’ve decided to do it even though I’m late to the party because I’m curious myself.

rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have.  

1) Warm Chilling: Louis was lightly thumping his fingers on the steering wheel, while he waited to spot the yellow mask of the train emerging from a bend in the forest and for barriers to lift up.

2) Where Words Fail, Music Speaks: Louis aimlessly stared out of the car window, unable to sit still as he kept nervously brushing his slightly sweaty palms on the leg of his pants.

3) Three Hundred Cupcakes Later: Christmas parties were usually too boring or too rowdy.

4) Letters to June: His eyes sped across the paper, taking in his messy and almost illegible handwriting, so different from how his letters usually looked like.

5) Forever Never Comes: It was late March when Harry found himself sitting in a carriage with his older sister Gemma.

6) Playdate: “Gemma’s brother?”

7) Trackies: Louis loved waking up like this.

8) Passing by: He’s kidding, he is fucking kidding me.

9) The Ideal Flatmate: “I’m honestly so tired.”

10) Talk to Me: “Fookin’ hell, Harry, next time I’ll just burn all your shit.”

[sunshine-luca]

“Who is the guy in the basement making such a racket?” Luca demanded, sweeping into the study where Ryan conducted a good portion of his Family business. He was in the chair by the window while Rourke paced.

“One of Vito Morrisini’s men,” Ryan told him, looking up. Rourke paused his pacing to watch as Luca made a beeline for Ryan’s lap, interrupting whatever it was they had been discussing. Luca knew he was well used to it by now so Luca ignored him as he straddled his lover’s thicker thighs.

“Hi, daddy,” Luca whispered, cupping Ryan’s face in his hands as he leaned in to whisper against his ear.

Ryan’s answering rumble sent a shiver of delight down Luca’s spine.

Three point five seconds after that, what Ryan had said about Vito finally registered. Luca pulled back from the kiss he’d been angling for and wrinkled his nose instead. “Wait a minute, did you say one of Vito’s guys?”

Ryan’s blue eyes looked stormier than usual. He looked angry. Luca glanced back over his shoulder at Rourke before sliding off Ryan’s lap and back to his feet with a sigh. Now that he was paying closer attention, Rourke looked pretty damn pissed too.

“What’s going on?”

Rourke and Ryan shared an indiscernible look but it was Rourke that answered.

“Looks like the Morrisini’s are getting pushy again. We caught Vito’s man sniffing around the docks. Trying to pay off the harbor master.” Rourke snorted, shaking his head. “Like he’s gonna be swayed by the Morrisini’s pathetic little offer.”

“He knows what will happen if he even thinks about turnin’,” Ryan snarled. Ice clinked as he picked up the glass of whiskey from the side table. “Every last one of ‘em. Gone to the fookin’ dogs.”

“Which is why we have him in our basement,” Rourke supplied at Luca’s raised eyebrow. “Let’s just say we’re going to hold him for safe keeping until the rest of the family arrives.”

“The rest of them? Coming here?”

“No,” Ryan said grimly, taking a sip. “Just one.”

--

Luca listened to Ryan and Rourke talk strategy while he basked in the warmth of the fireplace for a while. He still hadn’t got quite used to the drafty Scottish castle, even if Ryan and Skye had taken pains to modernize it where they could. Luca didn’t mind so much though. There was something special about being laid down on a fur blanket in front of a fireplace and fucked into oblivion. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get sick of it.

He waited until some sort of consensus had been met before finally succumbing to boredom. He piped up, “Oh, Rourke. I think Kate was looking for you earlier. Something about some a new dish? I’m not sure what she-”

Rourke’s head swivelled around, pinning Luca with a look. “What? Why the hell didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Luca shrugged lazily as he lifted his arms above his head to give his spine a good stretch. “I don’t know. Forgot, I guess?”

Rourke cursed then turned to Ryan, who waved him off without hesitation.

Luca snickered as the door slammed shut behind Rourke. Then he was rising to his feet and sashaying his way across the carpet. He climbed back into Ryan’s lap to straddle him.

His lips found Ryan’s neck, mouthing along the warm skin there and breathing in his familiar scent. “She’s not, by the way. I just wanted to get rid of him.”

Ryan’s low laughter rumbled in his chest. “If ye weren’t, then I was, boy.” Ryan’s words were accompanied by two heavy hands on Luca’s hips. “I wanted you to myself. Especially in this.”

“Oh,” Luca leaned back, grinning coyly. “This old thing?” He tugged on the delicate threads of the robe he’d found lying across the foot of their bed a few hours earlier. “I’m not sure where it came from. I must have a secret admirer, some mysterious benefactor or-”

Ryan grunted, making Luca laugh. “Nothing mysterious about it,” he muttered, sounding put out even though Luca knew he was anything but. It put Luca in a playful mood.

He pushed one sleeve off to expose the curve of his shoulder and fluttered his eyelashes. “Does it suit me?”

Ryan raked his gaze up and down Luca’s body – starting from his curls, all the way down. Luca smirked again, confident that he knew the older man liked what he saw - which was why he froze when Ryan only lifted one shoulder in half a shrug and said, “Mmm. Passable.”

For a second, the response didn’t register inside Luca’s brain. Then it did.

“Passable?” Luca hissed angrily, seconds away from launching himself off Ryan’s lap. Ryan sensed his intention and held him down, laughing quietly as Luca tried to squirm out of his grip. 

“Aye, boy. But only because I actually prefer it off. Maybe on the floor, in fact.”

Ryan accompanied his statement with his inked hands pulling on the tie of the robe, causing the whole outfit to fall free and hang loose from Luca’s body. It didn’t do anything to hide the aroused state Luca was in. Just the sound of Ryan’s low chuckles were like warm honey and the older man’s heavy hands on his hips were possessive and hungry and then Ryan was curling into him, his mouth on Luca’s bare nipple, licking and sucking until Luca was writhing in a whole different way in his lap.

Luca clutched Ryan’s head, gasping as the sparking bolts of pleasure shot through his body. “Blake,” he moaned, tossing his head back. Nipple play always confused him – on one hand, he wanted to lean into it, on the other, the sensations were too intense sometimes he wanted to push away. He likened it to when Ryan had made him cum too many times in quick succession – over sensitive but it felt so damn good he just wanted more.

Ryan knew just what effect his mouth was having, kissing a path between the faint valley on Luca’s chest while Luca whimpered.

“Much better like this,” Ryan said, shoving the rest of the material off Luca’s body. Without the robe, he was utterly naked. He hadn’t bothered with briefs – why would he, when past experience had told him they only got in the way. “Look at ye. Fookin’ beautiful. My beautiful boy.”

Even all shivery and trembling, Luca couldn’t help tossing his head and preening. Ryan made him feel like a precious gem – he wouldn’t ever get enough of it.

“All yours,” he cupped Ryan’s head again, forcing their eyes to meet. Just then, Luca became acutely aware of the position he was in – straddling his lover on a huge wingback chair, utterly naked and already so hard he was drooling a trail of precum over Ryan’s dark denim jeans. “So what are you gonna do about it, daddy?”

[anxthoughtsoaidiot]

It's me again

Well guess who relapsed? Wuuu. Haha. Its not fun. I hate it when I overthink. Honestly I don't want to blame my anxious attachment style but fookin hell. We're friends now. Like actually friends, but I can't but feel like as he is now lonely he is missing what used to be us. I know he's controlling his feelings. Cause he knows I have someone. And this someone has been so kind to be and nothing but patient. To be honest I think that's the reason why I'm so scared. It was because that's how it started with him.

Nisha's right. I shouldn't bring my past relationship into this new one. But ya Allah I am so afraid. I know I said he is on probation and technically he still is. But I am getting attached... To be fair he didn't even say or do anything wrong. I've just been feeling distant cause he's been busy and because he didnt call me sayang lol. I know it sounds dumb but I can't get rid of this anxiety I feel.

Honestly writing things out really does help put things into perspective though. Like my therapists says, intrusive thoughts are just that, thoughts. Its what you do with them that matters. I think I'll be coming on tumblr more often now that I need to throw my feelings out there. I'll be okay, insyaallah. I just need to sort this issue myself. Cause no one can help me but Allah and myself. And its not another person's responsibility to heal or fix my trauma.

[spotsupstuff]

*kicks the door out* I HAVE JUST TWO QUESTIONS at the moment

FIRST What did Ma found actually that could help with getting ride off Macaque for good? And did she even tried to use it against him?

SECOND SLAMS THIS HERE

WDYM MA HAD A LOVER THAT SHE LOST AGES AGO -

(for both if you dont wanna or cant share with info yet, u dont need to answear rn or at all, its all good, luv <33)

WAUGH MY FOOKIN DOOR, SLAV BRETHREN WHY

WELLLLLL

"I could so easily put a stop to all your bullshit right here and now. I know how to kill a shadow yāoguài, y-y’know? I found out- I did my research- all because of you and your horrible rampages. All I need is a flame... enchant it with the spell I’ve found and shove it down your maw and you’d be dead for good!!" Mǎ puts her hand around his throat, laughing weakly in what he immediately recognizes as fear, squeezing only a little bit as if she wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing.

"Nnh... No reincarnation- no spirit that could even go back to hell. No second chances..." both her hands grip his shirt and shove him against the cold stone wall of their cell, strongly enough to force the air out of his unmoving body. Her ears are lowered and pupils blown wide. "I could set your organs on fire and I’d finally be liberated from my worst mistake- finally, I could be granted peace! No more of you, no more of Liù’ěr, no more of- no more of..." her fists tighten, start trembling. "..no more of my youngest brother."

The spell in question basically a combination of a hex that makes the fire “hungry” in the sense that it won’t stop Burning as much material as it can until the caster calls it off and a hex that Binds one object to another. Shadows have this nasty habit of simply making themselves immaterial when threatened with something to avoid getting hurt but with a strong enough binding hex they just won’t be able to do that. The combo of these two is a sure way to kill just about anything

N WHY SHOULDN’T SHE!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T MAKE HER AN ANCIENT ASS LESBIAN N THEN NOT GIVE HER AT LEAST ONE WIFE WHAT KINDA FUCKIN PERSON WOULD I BE

Really I just one day imagined Mǎ goin “天啊。。。” (heaven...), absolutely smitten cuz a human biker girl shot her A Look while doin an Akira Bike Slide n I just went “Well fuck I guess she’s married now.”

Mǎ’s wife’s name is Kokoro (surname Sūn cuz Mǎ slapped it on her when they married), she was 35 when they met, Mǎ learned how to ride a motorbike to impress her but Mǎ is a DORK so she ended up GUNKIN IT ALL UP but thankfully Kokoro was like “You’re stupid. I like that in yōkai ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” n so they started DATING and then they got MARRIED!!!!! Mǎ ended up learnin a lot of domestic shit like how to fix a fuckin SINK (she looked like a drenched rat by the end of it) n they were HAPPY until the human lifespan came kickin in n Kokoro unfortunately passed away

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Perfectly Fine

Prompt: Hi! I would love to read something from you featuring asexual Remus! - anon

it is project onto fictional characters hour my dudes

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of the reality of being a sex-repulsed ace in a very allo world, nothing explicit

Pairings: none you heathens

Word Count: 1358

It takes them longer to figure it out than it should have and honestly, that’s on them.

But Remus is Remus, and that's perfectly fine.

It takes them longer to figure it out than it should have and honestly, that’s on them.

So it’s no secret that Remus’s particular sense of humor is equally as derived from what he finds funny and what makes the others the most uncomfortable. Logan did an analysis of it once and the results were 49%-51%. Which one is which varies but the quantities are incredibly consistent.

The trick is figuring out that the balance applies to Remus too.

And sure, the idea of Remus being uncomfortable is…difficult to remember sometimes, given that, you know, he’s Remus, but it’s there! It’s worth remembering! He’s a Side too! But considering his metric for ‘uncomfortable’ is wildly different from everyone else’s, it’s easy for them to overlook it. Maybe he gets some excitement out of grossing himself out too, maybe there’s a sick thrill in seeing just how close he can get himself to vomiting, honestly, who knows. Remus is Remus and that’s perfectly fine.

So here’s the big one that, again, took them way too long to figure out.

Remus is asexual. Not just asexual, sex-repulsed asexual.

Let’s reiterate: Remus is Remus and that’s perfectly fine.

It just…took them by surprise, is all.

“Wait,” Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “you’re asexual?”

“Those are the words I used,” Remus says, his head hanging off the couch.

“I—I heard you, I am…simply surprised,” Logan settles on, closing his notebook and setting it aside. “I would not have guessed that Thomas’s Sides would have different sexualities or romantic orientations.”

“What does it matter, Pocket Protector?”

“It doesn’t, it’s interesting to me.”

“Does that mean that all of us could potentially have different sexualities?” Patton’s head pokes above the counter as he digs for the good muffin tray—not the one Janus swiped three hours ago, of course not—in the cabinets. “Or no?”

Logan shrugs. “I imagine it would be possible, though I find it likely that at least some of us share Thomas’s.”

“My ears are burning,” Roman announces, plopping onto the couch next to his brother, “what incredibly gay thing are we talking about now?”

“Yeesh, Princey,” Virgil mutters, recovering from flinching horribly into the chair, “don’t do that, you scared the hell outta me.”

“Sorry, Virgil.” Roman taps Remus’s leg, hanging up over the back of the couch next to his head. “Why’re you upside-down?”

“Why’re you right-side up?”

“Remus…prompted a discussion on sexualities,” Logan says carefully, sparing a glance at Remus, “and we were debating the question of if we, as Thomas’s Sides, all have different sexualities.”

Remus kicks Roman in the head. “Told them I’m ace.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.”

“Really, and here I thought Remus beginning a complex introspective conversation was the height of character accuracy.”

“Payback,” Virgil sniggers as Roman startles horribly as Janus appears from behind the couch. “All jokes aside, I’m with L, I, uh, didn’t expect Remus to be ace.”

“Why not?”

Janus scoffs. “Couldn’t be the number of sex jokes you make on a daily basis, not at all.”

Remus shrugs.

“I think it’s just surprising considering how comfortable you are making the jokes, kiddo.”

“The fuck makes you think I’m comfortable with them?”

“Lang—what?” Patton’s head pops up again.

“A wild Patton appears!”

“Has Thomas…ever been interested in Pokémon?”

“What do you mean, comfortable?” Patton tilts his head, focused entirely on Remus and not the others making Pokémon jokes. “Are—are you not comfortable?”

“Remus isn’t exactly known for his ‘comfortable’ sense of humor, Padre,” Roman says, leaning back on the couch to make eye contact around Remus’s legs.

“But—but that—hold on.” Patton stands up—“ah! More Wild Patton!”—and puts his hands on the counter. “Remus, why would you make jokes that make you uncomfortable?”

Remus eyes him from upside-down. “Why does anyone do anything?”

“Sheer, absolute boredom, yeah, yeah, we get it,” Virgil sighs, “but it’s a good question, Remus.”

Remus just shrugs, only for it to dislodge him from his precarious position and slide toward the floor. Roman watches him collapse into a graceless heap and rolls his eyes, lying down on the couch.

“Hey! You stole my spot!”

“You’re the one who moved. Hey—!” Roman squawks in surprise as Remus throws himself on top of him. “You’re squishing me!”

“Too bad for you.”

“Remus,” Janus says softly, “are you…does sex make you uncomfortable?”

“Like maggots are crawling through my bones!”

The living room is quiet for a moment, enough to make Remus push himself up and stare around at them.

“What?”

“Sex isn’t something shameful, Remus,” Patton says patiently—and wow, isn’t that a surprise— “I promise.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “I know that, it just makes me want to rip all of my skin off and start over.”

“Why?”

“It’s bad enough I have to live in this meat sack,” he grouses, flopping back down and eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from Roman, “don’t need to be consciously reminded of it.”

“...‘meat sack?’”

“Oh, sorry, Lolo, ‘flexible container of mostly water.’”

“That’s not—well, yes, I suppose that is more accurate,” Logan says as he adjusts his tie, “but why would you choose to refer to your body as a meat sack?”

Remus shrugs. “’S not like I’d choose to be in this fucking thing. Evolution fucked up when it made us this way, at least we aren’t fucking horses. Oh, hey—“

“No,” Roman interrupts, “no jokes about that.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Remus?”

“What do you want, Snake-Face?”

“Are you…uncomfortable with your body?”

“Every day! It’s awful! I wish I didn’t have one!” At Janus’s muffled noise of heartbreak, Remus cranes his neck to look up at him. “Oh, relax, I’m fine, discomfort is part of my existence.”

“But it shouldn’t have to be.”

Remus huffs a sigh when he realizes that everyone else is looking at him with a similar amount of concern. Well, except Roman, but Roman gets it so that makes sense.

“I may or may not be being slightly dramatic, I am fine.”

“Can confirm,” Roman hums lazily, “comes with the Creativity gig.”

“Look, I just don’t like that it’s—it’s—“ Remus’s gaze lands on Patton— “look, Cookie Monster over there is allergic to cats, right?”

Logan frowns, glancing back and forth between them. “Yes, what does—“

“He’s not gonna die from it and he can still be around them, he’s just hyperaware of when there are cats and he can’t spend a lot of time around them without being really uncomfortable, right?”

Logan blinks in surprise. “Yes, I understand what you’re saying. Very clever analogy.”

“I am Creativity, you nitwit.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Of course.”

“So,” Virgil says cautiously, waving a hand at him, “you’re…good?”

“Yep. Goody-goody gumdrops, that’s me.”

“As long as you never say that again, fine.”

Roman gives him a hug. “I’m proud of you, Re, coming out is hard. Especially when you have to give people a vocabulary lesson when you do it.”

“Thanks, Ro-Bro.” Remus’s grin widens. “Does that mean I get to pick the movie for tonight?”

“What? No! It’s my pick! Hey! Hey!” Roman squeals as Remus starts to poke his belly. “Don’t! Dohohon’t!”

“Let me pick!”

“No!”

“Boys,” Janus sighs, reaching out and using his six arms to separate the twins, “that’s enough. Roman, what movie are we watching?”

“Pacific Rim.”

“Hey, wait, that’s what I was gonna pick!”

“See? There you go.”

Logan perks up immediately. “Does this mean we finally get to watch a movie with no romantic subplot?”

“And batshit physics.”

“We can overlook the batshit physics.”

“Whoa, L, what happened to you?”

“I…may have a greater appreciation for the cinematic depictions of the machinery.”

Patton just rolls his eyes and gets back to searching for the muffin pan. No movie night is complete without fresh baked goods. Ah, there it is, although he could’ve sworn he looked there a few moments ago…

Anyway, they end the conversation in the same place it started.

Remus is Remus, and that’s perfectly fine.

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If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[theirloveisgross]

Look, I haven't slept in 30 hours because too high on happiness and sadness at the same time.

At some point my brain decided to fart this and so... I'm sorry, but- this is not my fault.

Harry's Grammy beautiful outfits. Bring them in...

Coolcoolcool. Pretty colors, we clowned about them, we analyzed them, it's great. We said they were gonna be the Love On Tour color palette, and yes, it is. Green, orange, black. On merch, on posters. Cool, cool.

(I don't have the energy to look for better quality pictures). The blue/green/aqua (🙄) is the color that's not really there, but then again it'd be an inverted color of the orange, I think.

Then... where is the yellow and lilac?

OH, THAT'S RIGHT.

AND I KNOW, I KNOW WE HAD ALREADY CONNECTED THIS HOODIE TO THE GRAMMY OUTFIT. THE ONLY HOODIE THAT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE THEME IN LOUIS' MERCH STORE. HE COULD'VE DONE PINK, BECAUSE HE'S DONE PINK, BUT NO, HE DID FUCKING LILAC. AND YELLOW.

So yeah, nothing new here, but it's the fact that- all the fucking colors are being used and I want to throw my laptop against a wall, you know?

Harry was probably like-

"Lou... Lou, you said I could do one."

"Harry, I already sent out the designs, alright."

"Yeah, but- But we said I was gonna wear three different outfits... and two were gonna be my already established colors... and the other you said I could do whatever colors I wanted... and you were gonna print them on your merch, for a little... mind game, ha."

"Fookin' hell, H. I was high, and y'know I don't think things through when I'm high. Then you fookin' went off and wore a lilac, pink, yellow outfit? Out of all the colors? They don't fit me aesthetic, yknowotimean."

"They don't... But... Isn't that the point?"

"*lights a cigarette* I guess it is, yeah yeah. Right, here. *gives H the iPad* Design it and send it. Hey-hey-hey, but do it on black, I have too much fookin' pink on there already. Ha-ha-ha-ha. They're gonna fookin' hate us when they see it, Haz."

"*focused on iPad* I think... I think they'll love us because we're giving them something... but they'll feel like clowns... yeah, they will hate us."

You sure are right, lil' shits.

[merakiaes]

Deep Breaths - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is a bit short and probably really shitty, I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I last had a panic attack so it was hard to put words on the process but this is usually what I do to calm down from a panic attack. 

Wordcount: 1838

Summary: John and Arthur come to you for help when Finn has a panic attack and they don’t know what to do.

You hadn’t seen Finn nor his family in a week, which was the longest you had gone without being with them since you met them for the first time.

The cause of this? The stress of having taken on a bigger responsibility and part of the family business had finally gotten to Finn, causing him to lash out on you when you had been trying to get him to take it easier.

You understood the nature and cause of his reaction and tried telling him so, but your understanding and supportive attitude had only caused him to lash out further, and you had given up, deciding just to let him be until he had calmed down.

You had expected him to last a day at most, as that was the amount of time you would have made it without him, but he hadn’t reached out in a week.

Polly and Tommy had been checking in on you once a day to make sure you were alright, because despite you only being their brother’s girlfriend, you were family and they didn’t want you to get hurt.

But no Finn.

You were certain Polly and his brothers had yelled at him at least once for pushing you away, but he was stubborn. Even more so than his brothers. On second thought, they were probably the reason he was so stubborn in the first place.

He was so determined to prove his worth to them that he ignored literally everything else. Including you, apparently.

It made you sad, of course. You hated being away from him and it hurt you that he could ignore you so easily. But at the same time, you knew how he thought and knew he would come back sooner or later. He always did.

You were currently on your way home from having visited your grandma in London for the day. You had just made it back to Small Heath and was walking down Watery Lane in the direction of your house.

As your focus was on looking through your bag for your key, you were close to bumping into people on several occasions, but luckily made it through the street without any accidents.

You found your key just as you were about to reach your house, but instead of being met with nothing upon looking back up, you were met with John and Arthur banging on your front door, yelling out your name.

Panic instantly settled in the pit of your stomach, your mind instantly going to Finn and that something might have happened to him.

With your heart doing volts in your heart, you quickened your pace, the key in your hand falling back into the bag.

“Arthur? John? What’s going on?” You called out as you came closer, and they instantly stopped banging at your door at the sound of your voice, their attention turning to you.

“Oh, thank fuck.” John breathed out while Arthur wore an expression of pure panic.

“Fookin�� hell!” He cursed as they walked to meet you halfway, taking you under his arm. “I thought something happened to ya. Where the hell ‘ave ya been?”

“I went to visit my grandmother. I told Polly yesterday.” You told them, hugging Arthur back before letting go.

John chewed on his toothpick. “Well, she failed to mention it.”

You gave them a confused look and let out an impatient sigh. “What’s going on? Is Finn alright?”

They shared a look and John shook his head. “No.” He said, but quickly corrected himself when he saw the look of panic striking your face. “I mean, he’s alive. But he’s having one of those episodes again and we can’t get through to him.”

“Episode?” You muttered, having to think for a minute to know what they were talking about. “You mean a panic attack?”

“Aye.” Arthur confirmed. “We know you haven’t talked in a while but Tommy sent us to get ya.”

His words fell to deaf ears. You instantly started walking, giving them an annoyed look. “Well, why didn’t you just say so in the first place. Come on.”

They didn’t say anything else, just walking on either side of you as you crossed the street and headed off towards the Shelby household.

You reached your destination within the next two minutes and you wasted no time in heading inside, abandoning your bag at the door and venturing into the house.

“Tommy?” You yelled out.

“In here!” Came his response only a second later, and you instantly followed his voice into the living room, spotting him sitting in front of Finn right by the fireplace, Isaiah and Polly standing by.

Finn was breathing heavily, sitting with his back pressed against the wall and his legs pulled to his chest, his hands clawing at his chest while Tommy sat with his hands on either side of his face, trying to maintain eye-contact like you had taught him to do the last time this happened.

“Relax! Just think happy thoughts!” Isaiah said from where he stood, throwing his arms out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Judging by the way his breathing only got heavier and more ragged at Isaiah’s words, you guessed this had probably been going on a while, and it instantly brought a glare to your face.

You shoved Isaiah out of the way carelessly as you passed him, announcing your entrance.

“Oh, move over, you brute. You’re only making it worse.” You scoffed at him in distaste, getting an offended look in return.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“Yeah, well-” You started as you reached Tommy and Finn. “You’re not doing a very good job. A person having a panic attack is feeling real life threatening fear. It is a response that is out of their control. If it was as easy as just ‘relaxing’, he would’ve calmed down a long time ago.”

You knew you couldn’t really blame Isaiah for not knowing how to handle the situation as he hadn’t been in it enough times to be familiar with it, but it still annoyed you.

In situations like these, the trick was to not tell him to calm down, but rather make him calm down. When Finn, or anyone for that matter, entered this kind of state of mind, they lost perception of reality. You had to bring them back to their senses by making them aware of their surroundings, not telling them to relax.

Tommy finally let go of Finn’s face upon your arrival and moved out of the way, letting you take his place in front of Finn.

His head fell back into the wall when his face was no longer being held, his eyes squeezing shut and the brim lining with tears escaping to fall.

You wasted no time in grabbing his shoulders, starting to massage the tense muscles to make him relax while Tommy ushered everyone else out of the room to give you some privacy.

“(Y/N).” Finn managed to get out through ragged breaths, his voice sounding as if he was in actual physical pain, and with the way he was clutching his chest, he probably was.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You reassured him, continuing to rub his shoulder with one of your hands while you brought the other to his hand at the floor, starting to wriggle his fingers – a trick you’d taught yourself during one of your own panic attacks to help get yourself back to reality.

“I feel like I’m having a heart attack.” He kept crying, his chest rising and falling with quick and violent motions.

“You’re not.” You assured him, continuing to wriggle his fingers and rub his shoulder. “You’re going to be okay. Breathe and remember that you’ve been in this situation before. It’s only temporary. You’ve done it before, you can do it again.”

His fingers were icy cold and sweaty under your touch, and his hair and face were lined with a thin layer of sweat as well.

His entire body was trembling and shaking, and you could feel his heartbeat as you squeezed his shoulder.

His hand suddenly clamped around yours, squeezing your fingers tightly, and you let him do so while moving your other hand down from his shoulder and to the hand at his chest, forcing it down to the floor.

“Take a few deep breaths with me, yeah?” You asked him, and he nodded his head faintly.

You breathed in loudly so that he would be able to match your breaths. When he did so, you held it for a few seconds, before slowly breathing out again, Finn doing the same with slightly shakier breaths.

After repeating a few times, you moved forward and grabbed a hold of his face like Tommy had been doing when you first arrived, leaning your forehead against his and caressing his cheek.

“What do you hear?” You asked, beginning the process of grounding him that you had been through so many times before, and waited patiently for him to listen and answer.

After a few short, ragged breaths, he finally opened his lips.

“The crackling of the fire. The- the clock.” He answered shakily, and you nodded your head against his approvingly.

“What do you smell?”

He took another deep breath. “Burnt firewood. Cigarettes. Your perfume; cherries and apples.”

You smiled softly as you felt the shaking of his body dying down into a mere tremble, feeling the grip he held on your hand getting looser and looser by the second.

“And open your eyes.” You instructed him. “Look around, what do you see?”

He took another few breaths before opening his eyes, having to blink slightly to be able to see through the tears he had cried.

You looked at him, waiting for him to come back to his senses and do as told, but instead of looking around, he just looked straight into your eyes, still breathing heavily but a lot less ragged as he answered. “You.”

Bringing your thumb up to his eyes to dry the underside of them, you gazed on his face, nodding your head in encouragement. “What about me?”

Your eyes went back to meet his, and he stared intently at you, his hands now slowly coming up to rest on top of yours that were still holding his face. “Your eyes.” He started, slightly out of breath but now breathing normally. “Your freckles. Your lips. The scar above your eyebrow.”

“Good.” You praised him, pressing your forehead closer to his and closing your eyes as you smiled, proud that he had been able to pull himself back to reality.

He pushed his back away from the wall and you took him into your arms, letting him bury his face in your neck and hug you tightly as he slowly caught his breath, his body still trembling slightly.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your skin.

“It’s okay.” You whispered back, holding him close and letting him calm down in your arms. “I’m here. Just breathe. Deep breaths.”

[cutetinyartist]

YUNGBLUD G/t One-Shot #1 (Dom x Borrower!Reader)

So, here’s the one-shot I was talking about! Again I am a bit shy about posting this but I hope everyone likes it!

Content Warnings: There is some strong language, but other than that this is entirely SFW ^^

Word-Count: 2082

Using your makeshift grappling-hook, you easily made your way to the top of the kitchen counter. All you had to do was grab some food and go back into the walls, a simple task that you only needed to do a few times a week. Although the few human's routines had changed a LOT (they used to go out on tours all the time, but nowadays they couldn't do that...) you still had a pretty solid borrowing routine.

While they watched TV in another room you grabbed a few scraps of bread and other crumbs that you knew they wouldn't care about. Normally that would be where you stopped and went home, but you noticed one of your favourite snacks on top of the breadbin... Surely it wouldn't be too dangerous to take some of that, right? You hadn't eaten it in ages and it was right in front of you!

With your bag on one shoulder, you used your grappling-hook to easily make your way to the top of the breadbin. You dropped your bag as you took a moment to look around the room, as you'd never seen it from this perspective before and it always fascinated you to look at how vast human's homes were. A room that they could easily walk across in seconds was a giant landscape to you and (although you'd always been told to fear and avoid them) you found humans so interesting! Not only were they so much bigger than you, but they also built the houses that you hid in the walls of and had such complex lives that you wished you could be a part of... to be honest, it made you feel really lonely and lost sometimes. You wished that you could live like them or let them know that you existed, but that would be far too dangerous.

You tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind as you swiftly approached the food. It wasn't like you needed this particular snack, but it was one of your favourites and you figured that you may as well get some while you had the chance.

Little did you know that while you were grabbing food, your trusty bag had fallen into a glass that was by the breadbin! You dropped the food and rushed over, groaning to yourself when you saw your bag laying uselessly at the bottom of the glass.

"Shit..." You mumbled as you grabbed the string of your grappling-hook lowered yourself down. The last place you wanted to be was in a glass, but you couldn't exactly leave your bag behind! It was easy enough to grab your bag, but difficulty arose when you attempted to hoist yourself back upwards. Due to the length of the string, you somehow tripped up and got yourself tangled in it! As you attempted to untangle yourself the part of the string that was tied to your hook snapped, leaving you completely trapped.

And to make matters even fucking WORSE, you heard one of the humans entering the kitchen! In your panicked state you got yourself even more tangled up and could only pray that he somehow wouldn't see you, even though you were in plain sight.

You instantly knew that it was the human called Dom, as the first thing you saw was his fluffy, bright-red hair. No matter where you were in the house you always heard his voice, as he was really loud in comparison to other humans you'd lived with! You weren't exactly scared by his seemingly endless amounts of energy (like most borrowers would be) but there was no way in hell you wanted to be seen and caught by him!

"What the fook-" He muttered as he spotted you. All you could do was let out a terrified squeak as he effortlessly picked up the glass and tipped you out into his hand. You squirmed anxiously, but being tangled up in the string meant that you couldn't do much.

"Holy fookin shit-" He gasped as he stared at you in awe. You fit perfectly into the palm of his hand and the warmth radiating from it made you realise just how cold the kitchen actually was. After a second he glanced down at the string and realised your predicament. You instinctively flinched as he reached towards you with his free hand, but all he did was start to untangle you.

You were really taken aback by this gesture; Didn't humans normally like to keep borrowers trapped? Why was he trying to help you?

Within seconds he'd freed you, and you stared at him in bewilderment.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he dropped the string onto the counter.

You nodded, "Yeah- thanks-" Were the only two words you could muster up, as you hadn't spoken to anyone in such a long time and you'd definitely never even been this close to a human! It was such a strange experience to be held like this and it was a scary reminder of how tiny and vulnerable you really were.

"Um- What are ya exactly? And how are you so tiny? Are you even real or am I just goin mad?" He asked suddenly. Your stomach dropped as he lifted you until your vision was almost entirely filled by his twinkling green eyes staring at you with immense curiosity.

"I'm... uh..." You had no idea how to respond, your heart was absolutely racing and you were completely flustered. Of course you knew what you were real and that you weren't just a figment of his imagination, but actually being asked those questions (and being unable to avoid his gaze) was pretty overwhelming!

"Oh wait! Are ya like a borrower or somethin? I remember seein a film about tiny people like you, but I didn't think you were actually real!"

You simply nodded in response again, still at a loss for words.

"You're so fookin cute!" He beamed, "I can't believe this-"

"Dom, are you talking to yourself in there?" He was cut off by one of the other humans approaching the kitchen.

"Nah, I-" He began, but paused when he felt how you immediately flinched and curled into a ball at the sound. The last thing you wanted was for even more humans to know you existed! He seemed to understand this, as he gave you an apologetic look before adjusting his grip on you so that he held you in a loose fist and swiftly putting you and his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, "I mean yeah, I was!"

It was cramped in the pocket but surprisingly comfortable. The combination of warmth, his hands being wrapped around you and the slightly muffled conversation between him and the other human (where he explained away the situation) made you feel calmer than you'd expected it to. He absentmindedly stroked the top of your head with his thumb, which you weren't at all used to but didn't dislike. You overheard him say something about going up to his room before the motion of him walking made the pocket sway slightly.

He shut the door and sat on the bed before pulling you out of his pocket and holding you in his palm again. The fast motion was unexpected and left you feeling dizzy for a few seconds.

"Sorry about that- it didn't seem like ya wanted anyone else to see ya and I didn't know what else to do."

"It's fine, it's fine!" You replied. You tried not to sound too nervous, but the tone of your voice (and how much you were now shaking) made you seem anything but confident, "Th-thanks."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling as he looked at you. With his free hand he reached over and began stroking your back with the tip of his index finger and, although his touch made you flinch at first, you realised that it was his way of trying to comfort you.

"You're just too fookin cute! I can't believe I didn't even know you was livin here- Are there more tiny people like you?"

Your shoulders tensed up when he asked that and you shook your head sadly, "No, it's just me... I haven't seen another borrower in- in years-"

"Fook, that must get lonely," He said sympathetically.

You simply nodded in response.

He averted his gaze for a second as he tried to think of a way to change the subject, "How did you end up all tangled up in that glass, anyway?"

You felt an embarrassed blush creep onto your cheeks and you chuckled awkwardly before you told him, "I- let's just say I'm really clumsy and leave it at that!" You bit your lip before saying, "Thanks for saving me, by the way... But, why did you do it?"

"Why?" He tilted his head in confusion at your question, "Well, I couldn't exactly leave ya stuck like that! Why wouldn't I have helped ya?"

"Sorry- it's just- other borrowers always told me that being seen, let alone HELD, by a human was a death sentence..." You sighed.

"I guess that makes sense, some humans are fookin horrible," He replied, "But I'm not gonna hurt ya or anything like that, I promise. When I saw you stuck in that glass, well, I grabbed ya cause I had no idea what ya were at first-" He chuckled mid-sentence, "But then I just wanted to help and protect ya."

"I- thanks," You smiled softly and spoke shyly as you could feel yourself blushing even more, "It's been so long since I've last spoken to anyone, it's been nice."

"I'm glad I got to speak to you too!" He said enthusiastically, before asking you, "Where exactly do ya hide normally? Do you have, like, a hideout in the walls or something like that?"

"Yeah, in the walls-" You blurted out before remembering that you should probably keep the location of your hideout a secret.

"That's so fookin cool! What's it like in there?"

"I- it's kinda cold sometimes but it's okay, I guess..." You mumbled, not wanting to admit how bad it really was. Admittedly you had nice trinkets in your hideout and a comfortable enough bed, but it was such a confined space. Plus when you hid in the walls and heard the muffled sounds of the humans all talking and having fun together it made you feel extra lonely...

"You don't have to keep hiding in the walls anymore if you don't wanna."

You looked up at him curiously, unsure of exactly what he meant.

"Like, if you wanted you could come live in this room maybe? I could being you food and stuff, help ya out so you don't need to sneak around all the time..." He trailed off, wondering if he was even saying the right things.

You could feel yourself blushing even more when he said that, and you weren't quite sure what to say in response... You had been feeling really lonely (and he was really sweet) so his offer honestly seemed ideal... Plus, it wasn't like there were any other borrowers to stop you! After a moment you looked up at him with a smile, "Alright, fuck it. Just- promise you won't tell anyone else about me yet, please? I know you'll have to eventually but right now I'm not ready for it."

"Deal!" He grinned excitedly, moving the tip of the index finger of his free hand in front of you. The gesture confused you for a second until you realised that he wanted to do a handshake. You chuckled softly as you reached out and held his fingertip.

"Deal," you repeated the word, and as you looked up at him your heart fluttered. It was hard to believe that you'd actually sort of befriended a human!

"So, do ya wanna hang out for a bit longer now or are ya sick of me?" He giggled.

You thought about it for a minute before replying, "I- I wanna stay with you for longer, if that's okay?"

"Fook yes! This is so sick, man, you're so fookin cute!" He seemed endlessly excited about talking to you and getting to know you, and his words kept making your heart flutter even more. One thing you hadn't expected to happen today (or ever) was that you'd end up talking to a human, but it felt like one of the best things that had happened to you in a long time!

[smcc212]

In Debt Again- part 1

Pairings- None at the moment really. Might be a tiny bit of Tommy x Lizzie later on though, also, later on, some Tommy x adopted! Daughter...

Word count- 829 (short first part)

Warnings- mentions of child abused and neglect, a tiny bit of swearing... I mean... it’s the Peaky fookin’ Blinders.

A/N- So... I thought of this idea while I was sat in the living room staring at a wall so, here it is. PLEASE DONT READ THIS IF IT WILL TRIGGER YOU!! I don’t want to negatively affect people with my writing, especially if it could cause any mental breakdowns, episodes ect...

I hope you enjoy!!!

With shaking hands and a sweaty, well... everywhere. You finally got the courage to talk to the Shelby’s yourself.

Your father had accumulated a large amount of debt with Shelby’s- you didn’t know why- but you knew you you’d have to try and fix it for him to keep a roof over your head.

You sat in a pretty nice wooden chair with a slight amount of cushion on the back of it, making it more comfortable (the design on it wasn’t as beautiful as every chair had on it, but, oh well). The door opened as you, weirdly, thought about the chairs, and in walked Arthur, Tommy and John Shelby, along with Polly Grey. All of their eyes scanned over the bruises, cuts and scars plastered all over your face, neck and collarbone.

“So, why are you here?” Tommy asked as they all sat. Polly, a woman you’d secretly admired all your life, didn’t stop staring at the large slash on your collarbone. You regretted wearing a dress now.

“My father, Felix Knight, he’s in a large amount of debt with you.” The all stared at you, waiting for you to continue as you took a breath. “I’m not sure why he is, and, to be honest, I’m not sure I wanna know. However, I’m a bastard and my father’s all I’ve got. I need to help get rid of his debt in order to have a roof over my head.” You sniffed, but never let them see how close you were to crying. You never let anyone see you cry, your father would beat, no matter what it was over, he’d beat you. As a result you made sure to never cry in front of someone again.

Thomas leaned forward, resting his clasped hands together on the table. “Well, I personally think a man should own up to his own mistakes. I’m not gonna hurt you, no one here is, but I want to know where your father is?” His voice was so calm even as it seemed their a fury burning behind his eyes.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in three days. The only reason I know he’s in debt is that some blinders appeared in my house, turned it upside down looking for him. I guessed he owed you a lot after that,” you mumbled. The room became silent for a moment before Arthur sat forward, his eyes on your battered form.

“He do all this to you?” He asked, his gruff voice laced with anger.

“I-I’m not here about that,” You whispered, you knew your father would kill you if you admitted it to them. It was clear that he’d done it, but if you never said anything you might not get beaten as badly.

“So, yes, he did,” Tommy spoke up now. “How long has he been beating you?”

“Mr Shelby, I’m only here to help get rid of my father’s debt.”

“Your father’s debt is his business, not yours. Now, answer my question.” It was an order, but his voice was still soft as he said it.

“Sir, you don’t understand.”

Polly quickly spoke up. “You can stay with one of us. We’ll protect you from him, I give you my word.” She slowly reached over the table, taking your hand in hers.

“I can’t do that-“

“You can and you will.” Tommy cut you off. “I’ll help you, but you need to answer my questions, alright?” You nodded.

“Thank you, thank you so fucking much!” You exclaimed, squeezing Polly’s hand as they all, expect Tommy, smiled softly at you.

“You’re welcome, so, how long?”

“As long as I can remember. He needed someone to take his anger out on and since I was born it’s been me.” Tommy nodded, looking at you with soft eyes.

“What’s the worst he’s done?”

“Physically?” You questioned.

“What do you mean?” Tommy’s brows furrowed, perplexed by what you said.

“I mean, the worst physical thing he’s done is probably cutting me-“ You hear John and Arthur both mutter a quiet fucking hell. “-but sometimes, when he just doesn’t want to see me, he... he locks me in the broom closet... Sometimes for days. But then again I guess I wouldn’t really know how long, would I?” You laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension that filled the room.

“Fucking hell,” Tommy muttered, running a hand down his face. “Alright. Well, that’ll do for now. Come with me, I’ll take you to get your things and then we’ll go to my house; your new home, I guess.”

“Okay. Thank you, again. I really can’t describe how much this means to me.” You stood up and followed Tommy out to the car. Part of you was scared about this turn your life had taken, but mostly, you were glad. You’d finally be able to get away from your monster of a father. You’d never have to deal with him again... You hoped.

[inkribbon796]

It’s too Early for This

Summary: For Henrik’s birthday. Henrik has been receiving some gruesome leftovers every morning, and all signs point to Anti.

This is the exchange I made up in my head that inspired this whole fic:

Marvin: (sends fireworks overhead written in Jackie’s name)

Jackie: (misses the display completely)

Marvin: (screams in frustration)

Anti: (leaves dead birds to proclaim his love)

Henrik: I do not have enough coffee in my system to deal wiz zis.

Anti: (sad glitch noises)

Anti was an eccentric but after a couple months you got used to him. Or at least you learned to read his moods.

Unlike Dark or Phantom who would just glare at you and you had five seconds to guess and hope you got it right, Anti was straightforward. When he was bored he stabbed the closest moving object. When he was angry he stabbed the closest thing in general. There was no hesitation, no word play, no brooding in his room because things didn’t go his way.

But Anti had been bothering Henrik a lot, and leaving dead things outside his door. First it was small things like robins and finches. Then it was squirrels, and badgers. One morning Henrik had walked out to see a half-disemboweled nightmare beaver from Hell.

So Henrik usually kept a bin in front of his door so they didn’t have to keep replacing the carpet.

Henrik, exhausted from another late night at the hospital, opened his door and expected to see another rodent but what he saw was a human heart in a bin by the door.

Were this post-coffee, and not at 4 AM, Henrik would have his brain fully working and he would have screamed. Now he just stared at the alarm for a couple seconds. Then he picked it up and brought it with him into the kitchen. Jackie was half asleep at the table, looking like death walking, and he hugged his coffee to him as if it was going to save his life.

Seán was in a pair of sweats, and made a double take at the bin, “Shite! Anti again?”

Henrik set it down on top of the trash, immediately going for the coffee. “Ya.”

“Yah want me ta do somethin’ ‘bout him?” Jackieboy Man asked in concern.

“If ze glitch continues to send body parts, zen yes,” Henrik dismissed. “I am not a’vake enough for zis.”

“I feel yah,” Jackie agreed as a tremendous lightning storm hit right over their home, making everyone jump. The lightning hit Seán’s tinnitus particularly hard and spread to the rest of the Septics.

Seán was drinking his coffee, took one look at the heart and the rain again, “Night fookers!”

“It is 4 AM,” Henrik asked.

“Yeah, night,” Seán agreed.

Jackie looked outside and groaned. What he saw was Marvin and Anti were standing close to the street, Anti looking up at the sky and Marvin glaring at Anti. What Marvin had been planning on doing was summoning a huge display of lights for Jackie when the superhero walked out but at the last minute he was distracted by Anti and had messed up the spell, causing a storm instead.

And Marv wonders why our neighbors hate us, Jackie thought dryly.

“Yah fookin’ gopher shite,” Marvin spat at Anti, now thoroughly drenched to the bone.

“Ehh, yah should’a paid attention, maybe next time lover boy,” Anti chuckled.

“Oh like yeh can do any better,” Marvin spat back. “How’s ‘bout I fook over yer attempts ta fook Henrik.”

“Nah, Hein loves my gifts,” Anti reported proudly.

“Anti I s’vear,” Henrik had finally noticed that Anti was standing outside. “If you send me un more organ I vill feed you your own zrough a tube!”

The German doctor slammed the window and Anti had a heartbroken but love struck look on his face.

“Come on, Hein!” Anti groaned. “You can’t threaten me like that an’ not expect me ta fall in love with yah!”

“Smooth,” Marvin started trudging back inside, “real smooth. But, yah know better luck next time lover boy.”

“Shut it fore I kill yah, I sent him a heart, humans love those,” Anti grumbled, following the magician.

“Hey dipshite, yah know humans don’t send real hearts to someone, right?” Marvin reminded.

“What, that’s absurd,” Anti huffed. “What’s the point ‘a givin’ someone a heart if yah can’t hunt it down yer self?”

“We’re human, dumbass,” Marvin spat and once at the door he tried to shake off as much water as possible before heading inside. “Try gettin’ him some flowers or candy, Henrik loves caramel.”

Then he ran inside at a dead sprint to the bathroom to avoid getting as much water on the floor as possible. He failed, Chase noticed and got more than a bit pissed at him.

Anti for his part was just staring, missing Henrik walking out the door until it was too late.

So Anti decided that instead of demon tactics of blood sport and death threats weren’t working he’d try a more human approach, if Henrik wanted flowers and caramel, he’d get it for him.

Henrik day went from annoying to aggravating. He came to work to see Iplier tired but trying to stop himself from cackling. When Henrik looked at his desk it was covered in weeds, houseplants, and dirt. It was covering his desk. Whenever he cleaned up there was always more dirt and flowers. Then around midday he saw a clump of melted caramel just sitting on his desk, speckled with the dirt that Henrik hadn’t completely been able to clean up.

He knew to blame Anti, the glitch demon had been leaving him dead animals for ages, of course he’d dropped melted candy and weeds on his desk.

All day it was non-stop but he never came in time to catch Anti and yelled at him. This resulted in Henrik having a worsening mood all day and going home with death in his eyes. The first person he saw was Marvin who was sleeping on the couch.

“Marvin!” Henrik shouted in fury.

“Didn’t do it!” Marvin’s startled awake.

“Vere is Anti,” Henrik hissed.

“Don’t know, haven’t seen him,” Marvin told him, looking like he was about to fall asleep. “Last I heard he was getting flowers.”

“He put shit on my desk all day und I am going to kill him,” Henrik reported.

“Shit, he’s that bad a flirt?” Marvin grumbled, still half-asleep.

Henrik was so surprised by that statement it jolted him out of his anger a bit, he was still pissed as hell but now he was only slightly less pissed. “What?”

“Ahh, shite, yah didn’t hear nothin’ from me,” Marvin told him, suddenly very awake and scrambling away. “Gonna bug Jackie.”

The magician bolted out the house like he’d been set on fire, leaving Henrik alone with his slowly cooling anger.

The German doctor found Anti throwing his knives at the wall, trying to hit a picture of Seán and Dark’s faces.

“Anti,” Henrik warned.

Anti froze before he could toss another knife, staring at Henrik in surprise, “Sup Hein, you got an invitation.”

“Vhy did you melt caramel und pour dirt all over my desk?” Henrik asked.

“Maybe ‘cause I wanted to,” Anti evaded heatedly.

“Vhy did you put dirt on my desk?” Henrik asked.

“I couldn’t shake ‘em off the plants,” Anti tossed the knife at his dartboard.

“Did you give me flo’vers?” Henrik asked.

“Don’t be stupid, demons don’t give anyone flowers,” Anti denied, getting up to grab his knives again and started throwing them at the board at the other side of the wall that had all the other Septic’s pictures on it, including Henrik’s. Henrik’s picture was also the first one to get a knife thrown through it,

“Are you trying to flirt vit me? Henrik asked, almost certain Anti wasn’t.

But Anti paused and looked over at Henrik, “Is it workin’?”

Henrik took a second or two, deciding if even entertaining the idea of dating Anti was a good idea. He was a killer and more than a bit erratic. “No, I assume ze organs vere also an attempt at flirting.”

“Did yah like ‘em?” Anti asked in excitement.

That excitement was a bit of a surprise to Henrik, and a reminder that he was a demon. “No, ze organs vere vet und kald. Zey also dropped blood all over ze floor, however ze zought vas nice if you vere not attempting to kill me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Anti grinned. “Besides, you threaten me so amazingly.”

“You like ven I z’reaten you?” Henrik asked.

“Course I do,” Anti grinned, inches away from Henrik in his typical flagrancy of Henrik’s personal space. “Yer so fookin’ descriptive.”

“Vell, maybe I can keep z’reatening you if you stop leaving ze animals, und perhaps,” Henrik offered “help me to start my day. I certainly vould not mind help wiz my coffee.”

Anti looked a little hopeful, “Black?”

“Two sugars,” Henrik answered. “No blood or organs.”

“No promises,” Anti smiled and glitched out of existence. Henrik left Anti’s room and relaxed for the rest of the day. He always felt like he was being watched but Anti didn’t show face.

However in the morning when Henrik opened his door, instead of seeing a dead animal or another organ, he saw a warm cup of coffee in his favorite mug in the container. Henrik smiled as he picked it up. He noticed that there were two sugar cubes that looked like human organs, one was a pair of lungs and another was a heart. It was almost too realistic but they crumbled like sugar and tasted like sugar so best bet was that they were sugar.

Henrik lifted the mug to his lips and went back into his room to change into his scrubs.

[theseushasfallen]

Happy Birthday Anti!

Anti didn't know what he was doing here, or why Chase had dragged him to this nondescript forest with no information. Should he be worried about it? Maybe. Was he though? No. He trusted Chase. The bastard was devilishly clever, and mischievous to a fault, but he was responsible. More responsible than Anti could be. Though Chase said otherwise, he knew all the other Ego’s thought of him as some… monster. Of course, he had no reason to think that. But he couldn't help but wonder about what they thought of him… He shook his head, his attention turning to the bright colors of fall out of the window. He blinked his multi-colored eyes, and offered a small grin to no one. Light glanced off of the trees, all kinds of shades of gold, green, red, orange, and brown practically glowed in the afternoon light. Anti’s face was nearly pressed against the glass as he watched the world go by. He even saw a couple deer, almost making him bounce in his seat. Yes, today was a good day. Even for Antisepticeye. By now, he’d rolled the window down, and had stuck his head out of it with a wide grin and wild, happy eyes. His neck was even staying sewn shut! He couldn't help but be in a better mood. Why not? He had the right to, even if no one knew. He had the right to be happy on his birthday. Didn't he? Anti couldn't help but feel doubtful of that. For all he’s done.. For every little glitch, annoyance,or injury. He couldn’t help but feel as if he didn't deserve the kindness Chase (and the others sometimes) showed him. Anti started to zone out, head receding back into the backseat, green hair still flying wildly. He bit his lip hard, one of his canines catching on the skin as his head was filled with doubt, and his own self destruction. But at the forefront, was the fact that no one seemed to remember the day he first appeared. It was his birthday. Should he be in such a good mood? When all he brought was suffering and panic? Anti sunk lower into his seat, his thoughts overwhelming him to a point where he was just circling through the same train of thought over and over… Then, Chase took notice. Chase looked back from the driver's seat to the backseat, seeing Anti’s state. The Father knew it all too well, having been in many situations (and seen them) himself. He decided to do something about it. “We’re almost there, Anti!” he exclaimed with faux excitement. (well, it really wasn’t fake- he wanted to see the look on his face!) Anti looked up sharply, and nodded slowly. “...you never mentioned where we’re going, Ace.” he remarked, shifting. As if he was getting more comfortable. Huh. The Father almost blushed at the nickname. (he’d been called that by Stacy before..) Chase  wondered why, but a warm feeling overtook his chest nonetheless. One he had been feeling around the Glitch, recently. Hm… Chase chuckled, filling in for his lack of words.  “We’re going to this place in the woods. You need t’ get out ev’ry once and a while, gremlin.” he said affectionately, making Anti pout adorably, a blush creeping up his neck. Wait, where did “adorable” come from? He’d ponder that later. For now, he needed to focus on driving. He almost smiled at the thought of what was ahead. ~~~t i m e s k i p~~~ Chase put the car into reverse, and he couldn't stop the grin spreading on his face. Anti tilted his head, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Uh…. the fook are y’ smilin’ about?” he asked, tone suspicious. Chase shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to follow and see!” he teased, a smirk on his face as he exited the car. His footsteps crunched on the leaves as he made his way to Anti’s side of the car, opening the door for the Glitch. Anti sputtered when Chase offered a hand. “Seriously! What in all fookin’ HELL is goin’ on?!” he asks, jumping out of the car. Chase just keeps the grin on his face, and grabs Anti’s hand, pulling him deeper into the recesses of the forest. Anti couldn't help but stare at all the colors around him, reds and oranges and yellows whirling through the air in the form of leaves. He smiled, letting the fall air fill his lungs and clear his mind. He truly did love this time of year. When Chase slowed to a stop, Anti peeked out from behind him, to see a picnic area. Anti’s eyebrows creased again, and he pulled his coat closer to his skinny frame. “What-?” he voiced, and if he had subtitles, it would’ve said “confused Irish noises”. Chase held up a hand, effectively silencing the other, and whistled the four notes from the Hunger Games. The dork. But, it seemed to have an immediate reaction, as the entirety of the Septics and Ipliers (creators included) hopped out of hiding, and yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Which was impressive, considering it was a forest. Anti’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open in surprise. He…. this was not expected. “Wh-what?..” he breathed,before smiling widely as cake and presents were revealed. “Thank you all! O-oh God… you didn't have to,” he insisted, but Sean, Mark, and Dark walked up to him. “Of course. Y’ think I’d forget my first Ego’s birthday?” Sean snorted. “Not a chance, bud.” Mark Smiled warmly. “You know that the Ipliers are all attached to you. It wasn't hard to set this up, with everyone involved.” Anti blinked, but nodded slowly. He didn't know the others liked him. He just assumed they tolerated him. Lastly, Dark came forward. “It was no problem, really, Sam.” he said softly, a hand placed on Anti’s shoulder. Dark was one of the only people he let touch him. “Th-thank you, Damien.” he whispered back, looking up with a small smile at Dark. Dark smiled back, his aura calm and close to him. “Any time, little brother. You know I’d never forget the day you popped into existence.” both chuckled. Anti had a reason to be happy today. And he let it show, his smile undeniable for the rest of the party, for the rest of the day. Hell, it seemed to brighten his Month. Nobody could tease the Glitch when that big, dopey smile was plastered on his face, a twin of his Creator’s. This October was Anti’s best so far. He could be happy. (that was one of the best birthday presents of all)

[gryphonablaze]

Can’t get out of my head the idea of another fucking crossover.

FMABL3

They take sanctuary to whatever planet tehcnically FMAB takes place on, because tannis heard on a radio frequency (’quite outdated, I must say’) lilith’s own voice, so of course they HAVE to go check it out. Radio waves travel so slowly that for as long as it took for the frequency to come from the planet all the way to wherever the hell sanctuary was right then, Lilith could honestly be anywhere on that planet. Spread out and search. Pow pow pow pow, four drop pods, moze in the north, FL4K to the east, Zane to the west, and there’s not much south, so Amara in the middle. I’m sorry, I’m an amara main and I love her so that narrative would hypothetically be from her pov. 

Now no spoilers please but I’m at the point in FMAB where the bros are at briggs.  So like, Amara’s running around with a mediocre-ly drawn missing persons poster for lilith. Just so happens to run into armstrong and, after several arm wrestling competitions, he helps sketch up a much better version. He offers to introduce Amara to Mustang, because despite the tight restrictions he’s been put under by furher dickface, he can still send some people out to search. 

The two walk into his office in Central. ‘Oh, hello Armstrong, who’s this?’ 

Amara’s eyes snap wide open. One beat later, she’s leaped over his desk and is holding him in the air by his jacket. Amara is significantly taller than him, so his heels are like two feet above the ground.

‘WHERE IS SHE?’ Amara roars. Alex moves to help Mustang, but suddenly there is a larger-than-life, spectral, disembodied arm, open palm on his chest, holding him back. He tries to move around it. Amara barely glances at him, and second hand picks him up by the collar like a puppy. ‘WHERE IS LILITH?’ 

Half the other workers in the room had gone to draw a weapon the moment the woman had hopped over the desk, but they all froze when they saw six extra limbs appear out of thin air. 

‘Who--the hell are you talking about?’

‘Lilith the Siren. We heard her voice on a radio frequency coming from this planet.’ She grabs her echo from her belt and flicks a switch. ‘Talking about flower shops or something.’ The recording begins to play. It was from when Hawkeye had been out dealing with Homunculi a while back. Mustang’s voice kicks in. ‘And you were on the other end. Where is she?’ 

‘That’s--that’s Lieutenant Hawkeye. She was on a mission and speaking in code.’ 

‘Bull. Shit.’ 

‘She must just be a sound-a-like. I’ve never heard of anyone called Lilith, or seen anyone who looks like that,’ He nodded at the paper that had fluttered down onto the desk. 

‘I’m going to put you down now. If you try anything, I will electrocute everyone in this room.’

‘That... seems a little overboard,’ Armstrong muttered as they were put back on their feet. 

‘Get used to it. Now, where’s your database?’

‘Database? I mean, we have files, records, I could ask someone to get you Hawkeye’s information.’ 

‘Wait, no digital database?’ She scoffed. ‘What era are you people from? Whatever. Do that, I guess.

‘In the meantime, you’re going to take me to this Hawkeye person. I won’t believe a silly sound-a-like excuse until I talk with her face-to-face.’ 

‘That’ll be a bit tricky. I’d have to arrange a meeting with the Furher himself. Not like he won’t listen to me, but he tends to be... busy.’ 

‘Uh, yeah, no, I don’t wait for anything, except maybe the apocalypse, but I’ve already been there done that. You either take me to this person now, or I punch the location out of you, and then punch my way there.’

‘Oh, you don’t get it,’ Mustang mumbles sarcastically, ‘You don’t take time off when you’re grooming an entire country for annihilation.’

Armstrong is about to say something like ‘should you really be saying that aloud?’ But Mustang starts again.

‘What? She’s apparently from ‘outer space,’ talking about ‘radio waves originating from your planet,’ it’s not like she’s a citizen being gaslit about the conspiracy.’

‘Hold on,’ Mustang turns to lead them out of the room, but collides directly into Amara, who hadn’t moved. ‘What’s this about ‘annihilating a country?’ Is there a tyrant on the loose?’ Slowly, a grin creeps across her face. ‘Take me to him,’ She growls.  ‘I love punching tyrants.’

And she calls up the other three on the way, they pop over with the fast travel that was in the amestris drop pod, and then the vault hunters solve their whole homunculus problem and kill a god for the third time that week. 

...

‘Who the hell are these guys?’ Ed asks skeptically. ‘And what the hell is that?’

‘That is a Skag. It is a fauna native to the planet Pandora,’ FL4K states matter-of-factly. 

‘And this thing... killed the homunculi and that creepy ‘father’ guy?’

‘He helped, yes. Because he’s a good boy.’

‘Takes a god to kill a god, you know.’ Amara smiles. Meanwhile, Moze is trying to talk Al into letting her graft guns onto his armor. 

‘Aye, who the hell’s letting a bloody wee child run around stabbin’ shite? Someone get this runt a fookin’ backpack leash.’

[emily-strange]

Growing Pains...

Wow, so I feel like I’ve been working on this forever! Thank you to everyone who’s still interested in this fic :) I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint!

So here we go! 😁 @strwxberrymilk you asked to be tagged so 😘

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: Slow burn Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of past abuse.

Chapter 10

I wake up and John’s already gone. Probably on guard duty. I lie for a minute just staring up at the ceiling of the tent, damp with condensation. It’s muggy today and I already feel clammy and gross. What a wonderful day this will be.

I sit up and notice that the flaps of the tent have been closed and I hear hushed voices on the other side. Obviously, Sean. He isn’t subtle.

I slowly get up, not wanting to make a noise and stand next to the flaps. I’m struggling to hear anything so edge closer….and closer…..when all of a sudden the canvas is pulled back and I’m face to face with said Irishman.

“Fookin’ hell!!” Sean shouts as I scream and jump back, clutching my chest. Sean falls to the floor laughing in a very dramatic fashion, “You tryin’ ta kill me woman?!”.

“Me!? You’re the one lurking outside my tent!” I laugh while finding my footing, “Oh get up you idiot.”

I pull Sean up and he throws his arm around me as I survey the camp. It’s very light on the ground and I feel like that’s because of me.

“So, how’ya feelin’? Stupid question?” Sean asks.

I sigh and lean against his shoulder, “Yeah, stupid question….where is everyone?”

Sean leads me to the camp table and gently pushes me to sit down. He disappears for a moment and returns with some coffee before sitting next to me.

“By everyone I guess ya mean Dutch, Arthur and lovely Hosea?” he asks and I nod, “Well, I think they’re down by the water with John. He came out very…..very…..early this mornin’ and demanded to know, and I quote, ‘what the absolute fook’ is goin’ on.”

I only have energy to nod and take a gulp of lukewarm coffee. I rub my eyes and instantly regret it, they’re so sore.

“Emmeline” I hear and see Susan coming towards me from the beach area.

“Aaand I guess Grimshaw was also there” Sean adds quickly.

Susan approaches and sits elegantly down next to me. She’s calm but I can sense her fury.

“Emmeline my darling, how are you feeling?” she demands and even though her words are nice, she’s always struggled with tone. If I hadn’t known her most of my life, I’d be terrified! But I know she means well.

“Not. Great.” I say quietly and she scoffs.

“Of course not. Awful business, just awful. Believe me I’ve given Dutch an earful. Unacceptable. Knowing that pig’s still out there getting his muddy trotters all over the country. Disgusting…..” Susan trails off and I can just see something in her eyes. Something she isn’t saying.

“Susan. What is it?” I say through gritted teeth. She sighs and her voice softens as she takes my hand.

“I will fight to the death for you my girl. The death. And I am, truly, disgusted. But…”

“But!?” I interrupt.

“But. If this gang is going to survive….we need to stand united. I know you girl better than I know anyone and I can see it in your eyes. You want to run. But I won’t allow it.”

I take a breath and really look at her. I’ve never seen Susan cry. Not even when Bessie died. But now her eyes are glassy and she repeats firmly “I. Won’t. Allow. It.”

Susan squeezes my hand and continues. Quieter but just as strongly, “Focus on those who haven’t wronged you. Me, the girls, John….”

“Me!” Sean chimes in happily, making me laugh. Susan rolls her eyes, “Yes, yes, you Mr MacGuire! Believe me, no one can forget you!”

Sean winks at her and she gives him a small smile before hardening up once again.

“They’re by the water. Do you need me to come with you?” she asks.

“No. I’ll be okay. I have Hosea I suppose….” I start saying and jump when John appears behind me.

“And me. I’ve come ta get ya.”  he says while holding out his hand.

Susan squeezes my hand again and leaves the table. I can already hear her shouting at Tilly.

I take John’s hand and stand up, straightening myself out.

“If you need me lady, you know where I’ll be” Sean says.

“Yeah, asleep by the fire” John laughs while he pulls me away towards the beachy part of the campsite.

“Don’t leave me John, okay?” I find myself needing to say to him and he lets go of my hand to put his arm around my shoulders. “Never again Em. Never again.” He whispers.

As we approach the beach, I can see Hosea stood with Dutch and Arthur. Arthur. I feel my heart break a little bit more.

“Emmy. John” Hosea greets and I find myself shrinking into John despite my desperate attempt to appear stronger than I feel, “Should we go sit down?”

“I’m fine standing Hosea” I say crossing my arms. I feel like I need to separate myself from everyone but John. I know if pushed, Hosea will always be with Dutch. Well, what’s best for the gang, I guess. And Arthur. Well, Arthur made his choice a long time ago it seems. Speaking of Arthur, he’s stood with his hands on his hips looking at the ground. His hat shielding his eyes.

“Of course” Hosea smiles sweetly at me, “Now, for this….meeting….to work, everyone needs to say their piece but also, listen. Agreed?”

Everyone nods and Arthur chances a glance at me. I can see the pain he’s feeling. Arthur always held everything in his eyes. He looks exhausted.

“I think Dutch should go first” John chimes in and gets a furious glare from said man.

“Don’t look at him like that” I snap, “Speak.”

I see Dutch take a deep breath, steadying himself. I’ve never spoken to Dutch with such disrespect before and I can tell he hates it. He clears his throat and begins, daring to look me in the eye. He’s unbelievable.

“Emmy” he begins and I can’t help but scoff at him using my nickname. John squeezes my shoulder as a warning. I know he’s on my side but he also wants me to learn the truth, so I need to bite my tongue.

“Emmy” Dutch starts again, “When you came to us….I didn’t….we, didn’t know what kind of a man your pa was. And your mama. We didn’t know.”

“But then you learnt” I interrupt and he nods. Hosea pries my arm from my own hold and takes my hand in his and nods for Dutch to continue.

“Yes. We learnt. We learnt.” He sighs, “That day when we went out with Wayne. We intended to kill him. We had the gun at his head.”

“I had the gun at his head” Arthur croaks and I honestly can’t help the bitter laugh that leaves my mouth.

“He speaks. Hallelujah.” I bite. And Arthur looks like he wants to fall to his knees. I hate myself for wanting to comfort him.

“Yes. Arthur had a gun to his head. And I asked Wayne if he had any words we could give to his daughter…..” and again, I can’t hold myself back.

“The daughter he beat. And abused. The daughter he broke. Over and over again. That daughter?” I ask.

Hosea squeezes my hand and edges closer, sighing my name. “No Hosea, I want us all to be on the same page here. I want us to acknowledge, for once, out loud, what he did.” Tears begin to fall from my eyes but I refuse to recognise them. My body may be weeping but I will not indulge it.

I think I see tears in Dutch’s eyes as he continues, “Yes. Emmy. That daughter….” He nods, “I asked him for any last words and he offered me a lead instead. About a big job. One that would set us up for months. One that would help us take care of you….if we let him live.”

I let go of Hosea’s hand and push myself away from John, rubbing at my eyes.

“I can’t believe this is happening” I mutter and stop to look out at the water as Dutch goes on.

“Arthur wanted to shoot him but, I overruled him. After we let Wayne go, with threat of death if he was ever seen again, I promised Arthur that after the job was done he could track him down if he so chose to.”

I turn back just as Arthur begins to speak. He clears his throat and looks at me. His eyes are so red.

“And I did Emmy. I….I tried. I looked for months but came up short.” Arthur sniffs and looks back at the ground, “I’m sorry. I’m. I failed you twice. I’m sorry”.

“Damn Arthur” John sighs while shaking his head.

I know how under Dutch’s thumb Arthur is, we all do. But, I can’t focus on Arthur right now. One liar at a time.

“So, why didn’t anyone put a bullet in his head in Valentine. Tell me that” I ask, getting us back on track. Once I have everything, then I can start to make sense of it all.

“I was about to. I was. Had my gun in hand…..but…..Emmy we’re in a tight spot….” Dutch starts and I scream, “BECAUSE OF ANOTHER TIP. FROM HIM”.

“Yes. Yes I know. But we need money Emmy. Real money. And, well, Wayne asked to meet us one last time. He said he had a genuine lead he was gonna share with another gang as a peace offering but that he’d give it ta us.” And as he speaks, Dutch gets almost….excited?

“Hosea, what the hell?!” John shouts and Hosea reaches out to grip his shoulder, “Now son, you need to hear Dutch out. You all do. For better or worse we’re in this mess now. We need to get out of it. I am not happy about this. I….frankly I hate myself for it. But we have a responsibility to the rest of the camp. Now, this lead seems legit. I checked it over myself in that cabin.”

And there it is. My dear Hosea. What is it about Dutch that makes all the men ignore their better instincts? Now can I run Susan?

Dutch now addresses a horrified John and an equally horrified Arthur while sparing me the odd glance, “Now, he’s holding the last piece of the puzzle close to his chest until the day of. He wants to know we won’t off him…..” he turns to me “he knows he’s on borrowed time. But when we get that information…” Dutch continues but is cut off when Micah appears on the beach.

He walks towards us from camp, not really looking anyone in the eye. He’s absolutely caked in blood. His moustache is almost entirely red and his clothes (minus his hat which isn’t anywhere to be seen) are stained with bits of….something…..stuck to them.

“Sorry boss” he starts, “but that info won’t be coming anytime soon”.

When Micah reaches us, he doesn’t stop and heads straight for the water. He crouches down and begins to slosh water onto himself.

“Son?” Dutch enquires quietly but he doesn’t answer. He continues to wash his face until I step into the water.

“Micah” I say softly. I know we’ve fallen out but if he’s hurt, I want to know. At the sound of my voice, Micah stops scrubbing and takes a moment before standing to face me. He can obviously see the concern on my face because he gives me a very slight, reassuring smile.

“I’m alright sweetheart” he says very quietly.

“Micah” Dutch tries, this time a lot firmer, “What in God’s name did you do!?”

Everyone’s so quiet.

“Micah” I whisper, drawing his attention back.

“If I’d known….I’d of done it sooner” he says to me. Just to me. It’s like I’m the only one standing here and it’s…..I don’t know what it is. But it isn’t bad.

I can hear Dutch rearing up to shout or complain or whatever Dutch does when someone shits on his cereal and for the first time I couldn’t care less. When I speak, it quietens again.

“Did you make it hurt?” I ask, looking him right in the eye. I’ll know if he’s lying.

Micah smirks and approaches me slowly until we’re face to face.

“Oh, I made it hurt” he says softly to me. And as sick as it may be, I feel giddy. Kind of, excited.

I throw my arms around Micah’s neck and hold on for dear life. I whisper my thank you to him as he pats my back gently, obviously a bit uncomfortable with my form of appreciation. We can work on that.

As I pull back, I can hear everyone behind me start to argue and I just don’t want to be here anymore. I can hear Dutch try to explain his grand plan to John and Arthur who are going between arguing with him and each other. Hosea is trying to calm everyone down but it’s a losing game and if I’m not mistaken, I believe Susan, Uncle and maybe Sadie having appeared to ask what’s happening and why Micah and I are covered in blood.

Screw this.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” I smile, taking Micah’s hand. He nods but loses his smirk before the rest of the group can see. Not that their paying any attention to us now. Too busy shouting.

Micah lets me lead him down the beach in the direction of his little, private campsite.

I can still hear everyone fighting but the sound of my own voice is drowning it out.

And my own voice is telling me, thank God for Micah Bell.