#i gotta prep a few but i cant think of any like acceptable ones

[outragedslime]

Genuine question..what r good conversation starters or topics to talk about with new housemates ;-;

[arthurmergan]

Dutch/Arthur x Reader

Thanks for requesting, anon!

I really didn’t know what to title this

Just fair warning for anyone who likes Micah, you probably won’t enjoy this. But feel free to read anyways!

I am making this a female reader bc requester did not specify. I hope that is okay!

Warnings: unwanted sexual/physical contact, slight violence

Pairing: Not a specific pairing per say, prompt explains it all

Word count: 1,073

Saviors 

Feeling like an object was nothing new for you. You were a woman. And women weren’t worth much more than what their bodies could offer. At least that’s what society thought. People like Micah Bell did not make your unfortunate role in the gang feel any easier. Everyone respected you and the ladies whose company you shared. Except Micah. His wandering eyes, and curious hands never failed to make you uncomfortable. You were kind at first, taking his advances as compliments, assuming he knew no other way to tell you how he felt. But as time progressed, he got more daring, touchy, and vulgar. You were one of the few women who wore pants regularly. This came with the consequence of having your backside accentuated, acting as a magnet to some men’s eyes. You couldn’t blame them for looking, but at least most of them tried to be discreet about it. Micah, however, had no shame in staring.

“Why don’t you do that again sweet cheeks?” Micah purred. Studying your figure as you bent over, picking up bag of supplies. He was sitting at the campfire, about 20 feet from you. You bit down on your tongue and continued with your business. If you kept ignoring him, maybe he’d stop, right? Wrong.

Later that same day, you had been left in charge of preparing the stew while Pearson made a trip to town. You were slicing carrots when you catch an approaching figure in your peripheral vision.

“You making it extra good for me baby?” It was Micah. You immediately feel your muscles tense up. Making sure to keep your eyes low and not acknowledge his comments. He was on the opposite side of the table you were using to prep. He wasn’t pleased with you not responding to him. “Oh you don’t like talking to me?” He placed his hands on the table and got into your face. He reeked of liquor. He was always worse when he had been drinking.

“I’m um, just a little busy right now Micah” You explain, hoping he’ll leave.

“Aint hardly nobody here, why don’t you take a break and come have some fun with me” He laughs. He places his fingers on your knife gripping hand. You imagined digging the blade into his throat, shutting him up for good. A desire that would only ever stay in your mind, but still a good one.

“No thank you” you politely, yet sternly reject his offer. Nothing nauseated you more than the thought of lying with him. He had no respect for your response. He slyly inched his way around the table. You still don’t acknowledge him, and continued your slicing. He was making you so nervous, you were afraid you’d accidentally slice off your thumb. Micah was standing directly next to you now. He slowly lifts his hand to graze your cheek. You pulled away as much as you could. And curled your lip up at the feel of his touch. You were paralyzed with fear at what he might do next. His hand that persistently stayed attached your face, glided down to your neck, then inching toward your breasts. You were fed up now.

“Get your hands off me you dog!” You exclaim as you whip the knife up to his face, nervously threatening him. His hands had left your body. He lifted his hands to either side of him, trying to convince you he meant no harm. You shoved past him and stormed off. He decided to follow you, yanking your arm and tugging you into him so quickly. His other armed quickly wrapped around your backside and grasped a handful of your ass. You screamed and attempted to strike him, but he was too strong. He gripped your wrists and pushed you onto the ground, immobilizing you.

“You’re aint gonna turn me down any more missy” He growled. A terrifying, menacing look upon his face.

In all this chaos you had not noticed Arthur and Dutch returning to camp. They were immediately appalled at what they saw as they urgently dismounted their horses. Arthur’s normally neutral expressionless face had transformed into a murderous scowl as he and Dutch charged toward Micah. In one swift motion, Arthur lifted Micah off and away from you, plunging him in the soil with great force. Where did he muster that kind of strength? Arthur relentlessly laid his bawled fists into Micah’s skull. Dutch, seeing that Arthur had it covered, gently approached you, still lying scared to death on the ground.

“Oh god, what did he do to you, y/n?” Dutch extends his arm to help you lift yourself off the ground. You accept his reach and steady yourself on your feet.

“Dutch, he wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept trying to touch me, I told him to stop” You begin to cry against your attempts to keep your composure. Dutch wraps him arm around you in comfort. Calming you and wiping away your tears.

“Me and Arthur will handle it” He assured you. He slowly walks you to his tent, so that you could lie down and gather yourself. He places a blanket over your shoulders and marches out of the tent, returning to Arthur. Presumably to handle the situation.  

Moments later they both return to you, to make sure you were okay.

“Alright, y/n. Ya aint gotta worry about Micah no more. I took care of it. Cant believe he was treating you like that” Arthur scoffs. It was so kind how protective he was being. His clothing was now blood splattered and his knuckles were raw and bruised. He sees your worried expression and looks down at the reflection of the damage he inflicted. He chuckles, “I didn’t kill him, but boy I wanted to”.

“Are you alright?” Dutch asks. You had never seen Dutch be so caring and warm. It was very refreshing.

“yeah, I’m okay now. It just scared me a little, I felt defenseless. Thank you both, really” You tell them.

“Anything like that ever happens again, you call for us, and we’ll handle it. I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner” Arthur lays his hand on your shoulder, comforting you.

“Thank yall, it means a lot for yall to have my back. I’m glad you showed up when you did” You crack a smile.

“Me too, y/n. Me too.” Dutch says. He flashes a reassuring smile to you. 

You were so happy to be a part of a family that made you feel like you mattered.

A/N: I think I focused too much on the Micah part, sorry :/ 

[itain]

long.. complaint post essentially

id say rant but its less anger than just.. despair i guess

oh god i feel at this moment.... very hopeless

ive just kinda been frozen since i got home,,, talked some, ate dinner, etc... but there is so much i need to get done but i {feel i} cant do until i finish one thing in particular...... like so many rows stacked up in tetris that all get cleared with the one block that fits them all... i mean perhaps nobody thinks its that big a deal,,, idk......... i just feel like i cant breath... literally it feels like my chest is a bit tight just thinking of all this shit stressing me... like once i finally get one thing done turns out its not done and i had 10 more things to do as well... i feel that in the time it takes for me to take one step, i’m pushed back like 20 paces....

you know when you have so much stressing you that you play games or just fucking fill your mind with static to pretend nothing is wrong?? you waste time having fun while the stress just looms next to you all day every day?? thats like my usual state of being.... and here is the other end.. where things come crashing down, and im panicking, and im frozen because i can never solve things, i have to find an order in the chaos, and at this point everything immidiately turns negative and i wonder why im even alive rn... i like that ive written this much and still remained so vague.......... SIGH

uh lets see i mean its mostly all just financial shit

the biggest block rn is the fucking gym... gee am i getting so damn sick of this shit.... i am ready to sccream over this fucking gym...... ive been trying to quit almost since ive started... i FINALLY send the shit i need to on time..... and they didnt do it???? so i need to call them tomorrow asking why they havent drafted the quitting fee, and im sure theyll ask if i did the fucking secure mail where i get notified when they recieve it, and no i didnt bc i dont have money, and they will come up with some bullshit excuse reason why i cant quit still, and at that point ill want to scream and cry, i fucking wish that could solve my problem??? why cant i be like my dad who yells at the customer service people on the phone till they solve everything for free???? why cant i ask that of him now?? thoughts like these... who let me be an adult, how will i not get fucked out of shit because im a fucking pushover who just wants to please everyone and be polite.....

then lets see.......... the student loans..... the big issue with this... i mean 50 bucks a month starting in october... i mean we will fucking see if i have the money... considering im already drowning now, i fucking doubt, but my biggest concern is the logistics... what amount am i paying back? how do i know that its set up to draft out of my account??? questions i dont want to ask anyone because i’ll feel like a fucking idiot and i’ll just cry about it instead pls.... so i’ll just rot till october tyvm...

and what else... my biggest fear is the combination of these two, that i cant quit the gym and im paying like 75 fucking bucks a month for two things that have made my life nothing but hell...

but i think the other biggest stressor is the small shit adding up rn... for like 2+ months (i havent really counted but i know its been a long time now) my phone isnt working without a charger.... and to even get it replaced for a working model is like 75 bucks.. id buy some shit phone but thats 20 bucks that can be spent towards surviving... like, see above bills.... oh and id switch to an old phone of mine to even ask if thats possible would fucking cost money bc metro pcs wont answer shit without seeing money first ugh.. its made all communication and leisure time way more difficult as im chained to the wall and only a few short times a day for either.... so setting aside that, ill just fucking pray for that for christmas orz the other “small shit”...... oil needs to be changed on the car,,, means i have to find some time to buy oil, figure out what fucking oil to buy, where to buuy, if i have the money, etc... communicate with coworker friend and get a day we both have off so her friend?? can change my oil for me for free, bless.... but thats not even possible till i get back from my vacation.... so a week or two..... then we have the registration sticker that needs to be updated before september,,,, 80 to 85 bucks my dad said... that obv cant be updated with a code on my car so again, it has to wait a couple weeks... even driving with a code on my car gives me such anxiety...

so moving on to.... i guess the tiny shit that isnt as big problems but only have become such because im mega stressed..... thought i had finished the laundry... found another bag orz... apartment much more disorganized than i thought.. you know how order in the home gives a certain peace of mind.... and vise versa.... bf and i are fucking depressed and at least i want pills but that is a faraway dream rn, booking a fucking appointment, much less having $$ for a perscription????? trying to work out then losing motivation so quickly as always... but because i want to dedicate my energy towards cleaning this place... which just somehow never happens.... just never seeing a way to save money??? ive been so damn frugal and i still cant pay my bills and here i am with more bills, meanwhile my dad posting his stupid fucking bullshit on facebook about “choose happiness” like money doesnt have a fucking say in the matter.... and all the low self esteem and negative thoughts that accompany all this situation... wanting to “do something nice because ive been having a hard life/week” and then still feeling like shit, or feeling guilty for having spent anything then complaining about money...

i guess last thing i wanted to touch on..... the vacation... bfs mom takes me with them on their family vacations.... honestly i feel like the goth in the prep family? like im too much drama to make them happy.. ive been pretty open with her about my feelings towards my dad and stepmom, mostly bc she is super giving and nice and agrees with me against them.. and recently ive been more open, like about my depression even... and like... she even said she would get me a scrip... like....... i just.. this kind of thing, the vacations, the covering my half of rent, even while she doesnt have a job rn (she is rich but tighter on $$ now so) but i feel so guilty accepting it.. like if i justify it, then arent i being too greedy?? but i literally cant refuse it, or i’d be on the street right now so..... but i just feel like she owns me... if i were her daughter i think id be more okay but like... if john and i break up she put like, thousands into SOME CHICK.... i feel like in the far future i’ll need to write her a check too;; i told bf i wasnt rly feeling the vacation... of course because of the neverending drama surrounding me (yeah yeah im not saying drama is drawn to me, yeah i create it okay) this will just kinda strain more the relationship and they’ll all think i have some issue with them or smth that i gotta ruin every family trip... so i’ll just go.. but like... self esteem is out the window, so i wont want any pics.. i doubt bf will either, we both have gained so much weight, and i have perma acne that gets worse by the day, and i cant even afford to get my hair cut or colored again so its just this grown out mess.... then in the other respect of a vacation... i think ill just be worried the whole time about my finances... i mean i wont be able to spend money on anything so -shrugs- i get to just look at a bunch of nice things, thinking “i wish” or feel the guilt of her wanting to get it for me.... oh god yeah and same things w my friends.... i want to hang with them?? but i dont have money for shit??? and every time they pay for smth i die inside bc when will i even be able to pay them back its the same thing but theyre poor TT

anyways i guess thats most of it..... i guess im feeling tired maybe ill just pass out watching some youtube videos.... i was wanting to get a drawing done but ~*the cycle of feeling like shit*~ will occur worse then...

[kingsterracerp-blog]

Thank you for applying, CHARLOTTE. You have been accepted as PENELOPE MORAN. Just don’t forget to check out our CHECKLIST and send in your account within 24 HOURS. If you have any questions then let us know!

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME: charlotte AGE: 22. TIMEZONE: est ACTIVITY LEVEL: 7/10 i should be able to be online for an hour or hour + each day, I do work two jobs so some days or for some hours I might only have energy for chats/easy threading. PRONOUNS: she/her SHIPS: /chem. ANTI-SHIPS: /forced. TRIGGERS: Removed. PASSWORD: Removed. ANYTHING ELSE: Removed.

IN CHARACTER.

DESIRED CHARACTER: penelope rosa moran. NICKNAMES: penny, pen-pen, poppy (which she goes by.). AGE/BIRTH ORDER: 25. oldest twin. FACECLAIM: phoebe tonkin. GENDER IDENTITY/PRONOUNS: female, she/her pronouns. SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: /pan HOMETOWN: Atlanta, Georgia. OCCUPATION/EDUCATION: BPD officer.

(MORE) IN CHARACTER.

POSITIVES: physically strong, motherly, determined. NEGATIVES: hot tempered, secretive, sarcastic.

@poppym: i feel like i would actually pay someone to pour coffee into my mouth this morning.. @poppym: jacob decided that he was ‘too old’ to hold mommies hand today, so i picked him up and threw em’ over my shoulder. #momoftheyear.. @poppym: i miss being pregnant, now whenever i eat pickles and frosting i get dirty looks. #fuckyou #itslegit..

BIOGRAPHY.

** TW DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, TW VIOLENCE, TW RAPE**

Life in foster homes was odd, watching as everyone you grow close to get adopted, get taken- and yet, you are still there it was something that Penelope knew from a young age. Growing up, she was alone, not counting her sibling, whom she clung onto in all times, every time- she went to school- got into fights after, and came home, it wasn’t until she was older that she’d try her best to take care of the kids that would come and go from the place. She figured no one deserved to feel as alone she did. Her foster parents were not the nicest people, they were the prime example of ones that used the system for money. So it was clear that the house was overpacked with kids, she would make sure all others were fed before herself, she’d steal good, clothing– she helped raise a lot of the children that came through the doors, even if she was a child herself. From the time she was able to obtain working papers, Poppy worked~ she started working at a diner in town at the age of 14, starting as a simple bus girl, then to a hostess and by the age of 16 she was a favorite waitress, one that people came back to see. Every bit of money she got she saved, only spending when she needed new clothing, things for school, she had dreams of leaving this place, leaving this home. One thing that most would not assume at a first glance was that Poppy has the strongest motherly instinct, she had always been one that wanted to take care of her ‘family’, whether it was prepping dinners every night, making sure all the kids were passing, that their laundry was done correctly, the house was cleaned, anything to take the pressure off her foster parents, she would do. The one thing she found her ‘fun’ in, was art- all her extra classes she had were ones that had something to do with art- mainly she likes to stick with painting. It’s not something she shows off so to speak, she uses it mainly as a relaxer.

Her 9th year did have it’s drawbacks- that was the year she found herself in her first serious relationship, she loved this man more than she had ever thought, he was the perfect guy in her eyes- he just.. he had a temper. At the time she thought she could fix him, that she could show him not everyone would let him down but at a point where she was asking for simple things as in times for work, if she could go to the bathroom when with him, where every day she’d be getting beaten, slapped, kicked, burned with cigarettes, used as just a means for sex and a punching bag, she decided enough was enough and tried to end the relationship as the middle of her Senior year started, about a month before Christmas. That ended horribly, he had simply told her that “If I can’t have you, we are going to make it so no man even does.” and the next thing she remembers is being knocked out, waking up at least 30 minutes later but now… now she has four straight- foot long cuts across her face. They all stayed on the left side of her face, the longest going from her cheek to the bottom of her jaw, and one going to the top of her mouth- she was now… as he put it, marked. The backlash from the accident was a whirlwind from her foster parents claiming she did this to them, that she ruined them because she did something that could reflect badly upon them, to the school placing blame on her, saying if it was so bad, why didn’t she leave early- that she liked it– she’s heard it all. Beth wasn’t someone that liked to take pity on herself, but as she was a senior in high school, two weeks before graduating, she found out she was pregnant. In the bathroom between the Lit hall and Science wing, she found out she was pregnant. To this day, her foster parents do not have an idea of her son, of her life she’d make for them. She thought about abortion, adoption, but that February night, 19 years old, Penelope for the first time in her life fell in love. Jacob Giovanni Moran was born February 14th, and from that moment on, Poppy’s life wasn’t just hers anymore.

The day she graduated high school, that night at the age of 18 she was packed and traveled to Boston- she needed a new start- somewhere where she didn’t have a ‘name on the streets’, where people didn’t know her, didn’t know her past, and this was the perfect opportunity for her. By the time she was 23, she had been boxing for 4 years, obtained her black belt, and was skilled in hand to hand combat, she made a point in getting stronger, used what happened to her with Peter as fuel. She never wanted to feel that weak ever again. The first week she was in New York, she started MMA training classes and those guys there, the people at the gym, are some of her closest friends- and she is one of the most respected fighters they’ve had. Poppy gets a pleasure of being able to take men to the floor, to see that her body is strong enough and it can do exactly that- it makes her happy. She has her demons though, there are some days she can’t handle to be touched, they happen every few months- where she gets rather off put but the simple act of a touch, and if a victim of night terrors, daily nightmares. Her life in Boston, it was so much better, she made a family within herself, with the police department, with the guys at the gym, her son was so loved– he had enough aunts and uncles to make anyone jealous. Balancing it all with a child was hard, but she made it through, she was able to face the world with just her and her cub.

One thing she always will be is a protector, a fighter- that is something that will never leave her, and she’s sure that it’s a good thing, she never wants to go back to feeling weak, She has a very thick skin, protective walls, but she now as an adult, has finally opened part of herself up to people, to let herself be happy, and for how long it took, she doesn’t have time to be anything but okay. The thing she takes the most pride in is her career, as a BPD, a police officer, someone that speaks to the youth of the dangers of abuse– to go to high schools, colleges, workshops and share her story it’s nothing she thought she’d ever be able to do. But it’s all hidden by her touch exterior, she uses it as a means to protect herself, she never wanted to feel as week as she did those 4 years she was nothing but. Poppy is devoting her life to be strong, to use that strength to protect those that cant. She lives her life for the future of her son, she wants to shape herself into someone he is proud to call his mother.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST STRENGTH? HOW DOES IT COME IN HANDY?

Just that, fucking strength– it’s all find and dandy having that mouth, that some see as strength with words, but there is nothing that beats the physical. Being a physically strong person gives you an independence no one would ever imagine; it comes in handy in my career. I was one of the only woman that graduated with my class, you gotta be tougher than the guys, it’s the only way they;ll respect you. Also, nothing says a ‘shut the fuck up’ like a knee to the face, you’d be surprised– it comes in handy.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS? HOW DOES IT AFFECT YOUR DAY-TO-DAY LIFE?

The ‘I don’t care’ attitude I tend to have, while it’s all fine and dandy to be a boss ass bitch; sometimes that bitch needs to cry, and when you think that’s weak, that’s a whole bunch of unsolved emotions that are gonna bit that ass.

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TEN YEARS?

A mother to a teenager and slowly losing my mind, probably.

WHAT BROUGHT YOU TO KING’S TERRACE?

New faces, new chances, all that cliche shit.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME AND TELL YOUR YOUNGER SELF SOMETHING, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

Stop being a fucking mother at 8 years old and be a fucking kid– no 8 year old should be starving just to keep others fed, should be stealing to get mouths fed, they should be a fucking kid. Oh and for your teenage self, don’t work 10-13 hour days ontop of school, one that’s illegal and two, get some damn sleep- stop fighting random people, get your stupid color pencils and draw a sun or some shit like that. Don’t get involved with someone that’s gonna fuck you right on up, dump his ass.