#i hope he doesnt brush this under the rug

[notreallyuseless]

Is it selfish of me to wish that Phil doesn't log on the qsmp tomorrow?

Like i care so much for Chayanne and Tallulah, don't get me wrong. But i care more for fair working conditions and making changes to the qsmp team.

[wc-confessions]

I've recently REALLY attached myself to Clear Sky and Thunder from DotC because I've been rewriting the arc, and all the while, I have been experiencing a lot of really stressful things with my own father. I also feel connected with a semi-oc character I've written as a fusion of Bright Stream and Storm: Bright Storm, which was originally inspired by Bonefall, along with a lot of the foundations of my changes.

In my Rewrite Clear Sky's dad went missing and was never found. This was originally a Bonefall-inspired change, but now I feel deeply connected to it as my own thing because it's happening with my dad right now. He's been missing for over two months, and so far we've found nothing. Ive written Clear Sky to be sort of crushed by a feeling that nobody else cares, like his dad was brushed under the rug and forgotten, and i can share that feeling with him for somewhat more justifiable reasons from people around me.

Also in my Rewrite, Thunder feels a lot of disdain for Clear Sky for what he did to him and his mother, but can't help but grapple to the fantasy of a Good Dad and Happy Family, especially after him and himself nearly dying in that fire. I feel this really hard, and I added those feelings as a way of projecting, but I especially connect to it now that I know my dad could be gone for good after so long of never seeing him. Second, I wrote Thunder being disabled, just as Bonefall did, and I find the change really really important on that surface-level message against ableism, but I also write it as an analogy for being queer, and how i feel about my identity as such. This is because I wanted to be able to keep that message of yk don't be fucking ableist, but also include symbolic messages of homophobia and transphobia, because I refuse to just summon the actual issue out of thin air and make it a thing in my Rewrite.

Anyways, when it comes to Bright Storm herself, she's a bit of an outlier, because i dont relate her to me, i relate her to my mom, who fought with her relationship with my dad for years, getting in and out of it for her, my, and my siblings' sakes'. She seemingly also grappled with the idea of the Happy Family American Dream. I've written Bright Storm near the beginning of the books as being in that stage of confliction that my mom was when I was young (hopeful yet broken, and somewhat desperate), and over the arc she'll move on and recover just as my mom has, growing into herself and her confidence, and accepting she doesnt need Clear Sky, and doesnt have to forgive him for any reason, no matter how much he changes, because he still hurt her and her kit regardless. I see my own mother in her, so I'm really attached, there, too.

Basically what I'm saying is that while I feel really cringey about it, this series, especially DotC, has grown to be something I find a lot of connection to on a deeper level, and hold really close to me, especially in regards to how I Rewrite it. That's my confession.

.

[hermywolf]

No bc your post about season 3’s writing is so true. I kinda hope in s4 we see Hughie and Annie at least like… actively communicate and work through some of their issues in a healthy(ish) way? Because they kinda just brushed it under the rug and everyone seemed to forgive him for the murder spree at the end of the season because he “did the right thing in the end”

its just. it seems like communication is only necessary when the plot wants to use it to pit them against each other. and since this season they wanted to frame hughie as being in the wrong he has to communicate or it's a betrayal, but annie doesn't, and it's never adressed

i love them so much and want them to be healthy and happy but the writers have GOT to stop with this whole double standard thing they started this season in which hughie is in the wrong for everything but annie and kimiko aren't for doing the exact same things. just. let my boy off the hook. let them all be batshit insane morally grey murderers without randomly blaming only one of them for it. please.

i don't mind them forgiving him for the murder spree personally because i don't necessarily think they should've held it against him that much in the first place (despite what the way the show framed it, homelander WAS the priority. they framed it as hughie and butcher being irrational and excessive for working w sb when they were objectively & strategically right

just. mm and annie being pissed at them for working with sb to stop homelander makes about as much sense as. like. if hughie and annie in s2 absolutely refused to accept a-train's help to stop stormfront bc of what he did to robin. that would've been counterproductive, not to mention incredibly fucking stupid, bc stormfront was obviously more powerful, and a much, MUCH bigger threat, + those files were the one way to destroy her. here it's the same. homelander is becoming a bigger threat by the second and sb seemed like the one thing that could stop him. working with him long enough to stop homelander is just prioritizing issues. its just. god. that whole thing is so fucking stupid.

and the temp v?? the fucking. the way they framed the temp v as such an evil thing from the get go and actively punished hughie and butcher for using it when it also. works??? like they obviously had to add in the fact that its killing them to make it actually wrong to use it but like. they didn't know that. and before they knew about it it genuinely just works. within a few days of using it they came closer to destroying vought and killing homelander than they had after almost a decade of trying like. someone said this before but they could've just as well framed it as hughie and butcher selflessly sacrificing themselves with the temp v in a noble attempt to destroy homelander for the greater good and it would've also worked. the forced morals in this whole season were all over the place.

the one thing hughie could've more successfully been framed as being in the wrong for doing imo is the whole not communicating with annie mm etc thing, but like we said, if this only applies to hughie and nobody else gets blamed for not communicating then it just! it doesnt work! it doesnt!!

the whole show is built on insane not so morally good people doing insane not so morally good things. the boys were never supposed to be morally pure good guys. they've done terrible things and the only one ever bothered by it was hughie. why are we suddenly imagining this moral high ground that was never there in s1 or s2 it's just.

annie didn't care about what hughie did with the boys in s2 she was just upset that he didn't tell her and hid stuff from her, which WORKED in s2 because annie DID tell him about what she was up to, the communication was one-sided which is why she was upset sometimes, which is not the case in s3!!! and butcher, i mean, the others might've tried to stop him from doing terrible things sometimes but they didn't expect him not to do them. they didn't hold a grudge. butcher was always extremely clear about his intentions. and annie's no saint either she blackmailed gecko she killed a man it's what makes her fun too she's a murderer they're all murderers but her argument not to work w sb is that he's a murderer i just DONT UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY WERE THINKING WHEN THEY WROTE THIS SEASON. sorry i got carried away. i have. lots of thoughts)

[4uru]

Sooo im on the intermission grief chapter... Have not read it yet, i physically cant... Anyway, im probably quitting reading anything from cc, she causes me pain anger and frustration over fucking nothing.

Nothing gets solved, not in a satisfactory way atleast, shitty traits of shitty characters are brushed under the rug,

Matthew inserting himself in cordelias bussiness with her own fucking brother after her father GETS MURDERED in choi, and its never addressed again. Yall he made cordelia feel guilty about loving her own brother who sacrificed his childhood for her. I do feel bad for Matthew's alcoholism, but damn yall he was a little shit before that.

Elias dying without and being absolutely useless as a ghost. And us not getting any of Alastairs sass+angst about this dead beat asshole. Like c'mon yall.

Anna, she is problematic herself lets not even get into that, all her shitty qualities are in that one chair u have in the corner of ur room, which u've thrown a huge blanket over bc the guests are coming. I need a whole separate post for this asshole. (Opinions from the pov of a brown person)

Charles, just bc hes gay doesnt mean i need to feel bad for him, hes a fucking pedo and can choke on his own spit and die a painful death. The scene where alastair Matthew and Thomas chew him out is not nearly long enough or cathartic enough... TLH fanfic community, yall better not let me down too, i need this bestie pls.

I love thomas in this book but come on, i feel like he needs to at least confront Alastair about what Alastair went thru during the academy era. The sanctuary scene sucked yall, but now we got the carriage scene so i hope yall can get ur head out of the "thirsty for content bucket" long enough to face that fact.

Christopher "THATS MY SON😭😭😭MY BOY😭😭😭" cc, with all due disrespect, fuck you. this one? This one fucking hurt. I hope u step into a small puddle of water on the floor with ur socks on for the rest of ur life.

Happy for jordelia, i need the 3 mentally unstable brother in laws ( james, Alastair, jesse) bonding

[P.s. sorry if i offend anybody, i am writting this with a headache, blocked nose and a broken annoyed heart]

To me cc is a racist ass, homophobic, transphobic person and it it clear she doesnt know how to write characters of color, or characters who arent cishet. And heavily believes on the miracles of 💖Coming out💖.

-sincerely a desi gay enby teen posting from a country where i could get jailed for existing <3

[lucidpantone]

I agree. I think S1 was more visually stunning and overall a better articulated story. I don’t get why they spent soooo long on Sara and that horse in S2 and I was actually laughing when it came to Wille pulling a gun on August. But in S3 we saw Edvin shine. The acting man?! We didn’t see him on that level in S1

So these parts of the plot are what grate me in s2. So August was willing to get kicked out of school and literally lose his entire entity he has spent years building because he wouldn't sell off any art from his estate and then all of a sudden he does it to buy Sara a horse. This what i mean very illogical writing. I get that its meant to show how much Sara means to him and how in love they are but it doesnt keep in line with who august is meant to be. He is meant to be a selfish narcissist and all of sudden he is doing all these acts in the name of love. Its a bit ridiculous.

So I hope that Wille pulling a gun on august isnt just brushed under the rug because clearly Wille has alot of rage in him which i get he has gone through alot but pulling a gun on someone is fucking bonkers and he needs serious therapy if thats how far he goes when he is angry. And agreed Edvin and Malte killed this season.

I feel like Edvin could be like a major star in a few years. His got that something special.

[diablademon]

(Im on phone so sorry if this is hard to follow/read)

My thoughts is that Luffy and Crocodile are on natural ground.

As in pirate natural ground. Could be enemy, could be ally but wont act on anything and just suspiciously side eye eachother to figure out the others motive.

Well atleast on Luffys pov.

Luffy very much love Vivi and Crocodile hurt her greatly, but he also helped ace and luffy in the war so probably still hate Crocodile over Alabasta but wont go for the throat if he meets crocodile again if you understand me.

Maybe he didnt really comment on Crocodile in the poster because Crocodile has gone back to be bit of a nobody to Luffy.

On Crocodile side we seen that he seem happy with Luffys news in the pappers.

I dont think he would act all bubbly if they meet again. But wont be at all hostile.

But I think Crocodile likes Luffy now more than Luffy likes Crocodile.

Its also funny that Luffy ruined Crocodiles plans, beat him up, had his affairs out in the open and getting arrested where he got boiled alive.

But meeting Luffy again he just go "water under the bridge". Literally no hatred.

And then theres Buggy that owned him money and Crocodile was ready to murder him over it.

I will lean on Luffy not knowing that Crocodile saved him at the end of the war.

Hes not one to ask about the past and only knew about Law saving him because he woke up on his ship.

I hope we get the backstory of Crocodile.

When we first meet him in Alabasta he trusted no one. Robin was the closest to him but he knew nothing about her and didnt want to know anything about her.

He would kill his best agents over small mistakes and would enjoy giving his enemies a slow death.

After being defeated he stopped caring, he didnt want to go with Ms. Goldenweek when she came to rescue everyone and rather went to Impel Down.

Getting Pluton seemed to be his last chance for something. After that failed he went numb about the world.

The idea of taking down Whitebeard was the only thing that made him want to get out again.

And that mission he suddenly abandoned to protect Ace and Luffy.

After the war he kept Daz Bones close, teamed up with Mihawk and got happy everytime there where news about Luffy.

Something made Crocodile care. And my question is what made him not care in the first place?

If we bring in crocomom/crocodad theory into this then I think Crocodile didnt have a say in the hiding of Luffy. Maybe he didnt even knew he was still alive.

So while Dragon wanted to fight for a better world that his son could live in, Crocodile become resentful and angry about the world and want to see it burn.

Crocodile is an entertaining villian and its hard to not wanting him succeed in what ever he is trying to do now.

When the strawhats meet Crocodile again I cant see it go out that well.

Robin still sees Crocodile as one of the worst enemies of her past. So she would not be happy meeting him again. Maybe even horrified.

Jinbie might be the one thats more positive about Crocodile because of Crocodiles last act in the war. But he did try to kill Whitebeard and it seemed like the other warlords was told of why Crocodile was arrested and had his warlord title taken away. So maybe not too positive about Crocodile.

But he would probably tell everyone that he and Luffy only survived the war because Crocodile got between them and Akainu.

The Strawhats that was at Alabasta would definitely be aggressive if Luffy doesnt tell them off or Jinbie mentioned them being saved by him.

The rest will just follow everyone else lead as they have no idea who Crocodile is exept a ex-warlord

(also about Robins crimes getting brushed under the rug is probably because we didnt really see her personally do anything against civilans and just against baroque works agents. And was just working for Crocodile to survive (as he seemed to be only one not selling her out to the marines)and trying to keep Oharas research alive.)

The worst part about trying to figure out what Crocodile's deal is that because he's so fucking irredeemably evil in Alabasta... Like... Yeah he's just irredeemably evil. Like I love him but he did cause countless casualties, a ton of pain and suffering and literally attempted to blow up a million people

Like no amount of theoretical "trying to do it to save his son from the Government" or "trying to stop the Government from hurting anyone else" or just "doing it for the greater good" is going to make him any less of a mass murderer

But also Robin absolutely 100% helped with all of that shit simply because she wanted to read the Poneglyph for herself.

No amount of her intending to betray Crocodile from the begining and sabotaging his plans erases the fact that Robin also caused countless people to starve to death and die in the civil war. Her sabotages only succeeded out of sheer luck, and only spared the lives of the people at the final battle. She has the blood of countless innocents on her hands. Because she wanted to read history.

But her crimes were swept under the rug because she has a sad backstory and her sabotages worked out just at the nick of time by sheer dumb luck

So Croc??? Just??? Is there a chance??? At all???

But also he did literally intend to sell Buggy into slavery

Like, fuck Buggy, but jesus

What's also killing me is that we like. Don't know what Luffy thinks of Crocodile right now. Which really is like. The thing that will decide how we, as the readers, are supposed to feel about Crocodile. Luffy is our POV

Like we don't know what Luffy's opinion of Crocodile is after he helped save Luffy (and spared Ace once) during the Summit War. Like Luffy clearly fucking hated the man in Impel Down and the two interactions they had during the War weren't like positive (in the sense that Luffy himself didn't think of the interactions as particularly positive. Defending Whitebeard from being attacked once and then being like "wait what HIM?!" when Crocodile defended Ace. To be fair, in the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much time to spend on Pondering On Such Things because Ace needed to be saved, and Oda goes out of his way to not show us what's going on inside Luffy's head, because it's all meant to be out in the open anyways. Regardless, these weren't like "yay it's Crocodile! :)" moments for Luffy is what I mean)

But also Luffy was very grateful of Law for saving his life and was willing to put his trust into Law for their alliance- of course, they weren't explicitly enemies to begin with, rivals at most, but still. Luffy respects those who help him.

But also Luffy grew during the timeskip. Like he's not that clueless anymore (like he finally understands Hancock is in love with him etc), and similarly Luffy gets that Buggy is an absolute loser now. But also Buggy did also help save Luffy's life (even if it was by accident), and while IDK if Luffy is aware of that, I don't think that helped improve Luffy's impression of Buggy

So like. The fuck does Luffy think of Crocodile, at this moment? Even with the Cross Guild reveal, he didn't even really comment on Croc and just focused his energy on being confused about Buggy being "the leader" of CG. IDK it feels almost intentional or something, that we don't know what Luffy thinks?? Especially since we did get Zoro's opinion on Mihawk in the situation?? Or am I delulu?? (Sidenote. I'd love to know what Robin would have to say about Crocodile helping save Luffy's life. What Jinbei might think of the final words Crocodile left him with before blasting them out of Akainu's reach. But mainly just Robin's thoughts)

Like IDK my best guess would be that Luffy still hates Crocodile just the same but is like grossed out by technically owing him one??? In the classic

-kinda way, you know? And that he'd be just kinda confused about it?

Because I can't fucking imagine Luffy being like "oh we're cool now" with Crocodile, let alone "Yay Crocodile :) He saved my life!". But also like. Luffy does kind of owe Croc one. Kind of. And Luffy is usually very respectful of that kind of thing. Aaaaaaaa???

(Also does. Does Luffy even know it was Crocodile who yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach to begin with. 'Cause he was unconcious. Knocked the fuck out. Does. Does Luffy even know. Did anybody tell him???)

I just.

There's the reasonable part of me that knows Crocodile is an irredeemable evil dickbag and everything he has ever said and done up to the most recent chapters support that. He is too far gone.

And then there's the absolutely delulu part that loves a tragic villian who gets a heartwrenching redemption that's looking for any fucking sign that could indicate Crocodile could maybe be one

[beanyboobee]

Something I started to feel curious about is the fact that Noe says he doesn't know what happend to his parents, tied with fact he was found alone in the woods crying.

Not just that. he was found in the human world, how the hell did a lil baby vampire get there alone.

I know that this could be just a quick way to avoid talking about Noes backstory but it opens up alott of possiable theorys.

A part of me wonders if Noe had his memories altered by someone or something. Hoping to maybe protect him in some way, Or if he had been perhaps an experiment of some sort.

We so far know that something bad happend to the archviste 's seeing as Noe was sold as a survivor and we have yet to meet another vampire with the same abilities as him.

So the fact that Noe never brings up what happend to them and insted says he doesnt know is quite odd and the fact that we can assume that he doesn't know how he got into the woods.

And also the fact that when we first meet baby Noe he is covered in bandages makes it seem like something bad happend to him, at first I assumed he got beat up on the black market or something but then he started saying how he actually kind of enjoyed the black market that it was like traveling and seeing the world makes me think other wise.

A theory of mine is that since we know the Archvisties are able to see someone's memories by drinking their blood, i wonder if that isn't where their abilities end. If perhaps a more powerful archvistie with more control is perhaps able to alter someone's memories, and if that was the case was Noe sent away on purpose not knowing anything ?

That whatever wiped out the Archvisties missed one on accident, due to maybe his parents sending him to the human world on purpose ?

I know we probualy won't get an answer any time soon since the manga seems to be on the route to a quick end, but I very much would like to get more lore on the archvisties since I do belive it would be a very interesting arc . To learn more about a past that noe brushed under the rug。

It may also explain why the shapeless one is so taken with Noe, because making a vampire that has control over someone's memories loyal to you would be a very good thing to have.

If im completely honest i wouldn't be supprised if the shapeless one was the cause of whatever massacre fell upon the archvisties but I dont have any proof on that yet so we may never know .

[daemoninwhiteround2]

Damian is a jealous little shit when it comes to Jason and his milk. He doesnt like to share him in ANY way when he is nursing. That means that besides from hogging the milk from the rest of the pack, he also wants his undivided attention and affection. He has bitten Jason before to draw his attention back to him whenver any other member of the pack "distracts" him while nursing. At this point Jason has given up. Theres no fixing that kid

Could you please do more mama Jason breast feeding Damian? Maybe before and after they left the League?

Dami is a possesive and jealous little shit over Jasons milk. He doesnt give a shit that he is no longer a little pup and the milk changed its composition, no longer meant for his nutrition but to strengthen pack bonds. He gives no fucks. It was his first and he will be damned if he has to share it. Also thats his Umm'i. The omega that raised him. He doesnt give a shit that he is pack Omega (and the ONLY omega on the pack) Jason was his first. Dami literally has growled at Bruce over his milk

Things...

drift.

Everything happens but none of it catches his attention.

Life flows past him and he is like a stone, unmoved, removed, only ever an observer.

And then

Her.

The one static image in a sea of colour and sound.

Bright green eyes and dark hair.

There’s...

something.

He should ... something.

It flows out of reach and he remains.

And then

Him.

Small, soft.

Warm and heavy in his arms.

Smells like everything good and right in the world.

She does something, shifts him close, and

Wet

Pull

Hurts?

No. 

Is ... right.

Only thing that has been right for...

He cuddles him close and allows the world to drift past them both.

--

Jason only comes to movie night because he twisted one ankle, broke the other and was taken to the Manor against his will and now, since they’ve dumped him in the rumpus room on the second floor, he literally can’t leave. 

“You’re a shit,” he tells Dick, who is not even vaguely attempting to hide his delight as he sticks throw pillows in and around Jason.

It isn’t pulling at his nesting instincts. It isn’t.

“I know you are but what am I?” Dick sing-songs back as he slides another pillow beneath Jason’s ankle. He’s managed to wedge them between a five pillow structure taking up the entirety of the footstool Jason has his feet propped up on; his ankles are definitely raised and also he definitely can’t move his legs without toppling everything.

Even if Jason wanted to get up, he doubts he could struggle out of pillow hell before it all comes falling down and he suffocates to death for a second time.

“Christ, how old are you again?”

“Old enough to know better than to go running around on the street after Freeze has iced it over.”

Hmm. Dick’s got him there.

“Besides,” Dick continues, “it’s been forever since we’ve all hung out.”

Jason pointedly looks around the otherwise empty room. “Yeah, just you, me, and all your friends.”

“Ha ha, Jason, you’re hilarious.” Dick actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. “I mean, Bruce sent Damian back a couple of hours ago, since it’s a school night, and Tim didn’t go out at all, he’s got a big presentation at W.E. tomorrow! So we can all hang out together.” He plumps another pillow, stares at it like it holds the secrets to ... well, a happy family. “It’s been a while since so much of the pack’s been together.”

Jason wants to scoff, but Dick’s tone brings him up short. He’s not even sure Dick meant for him to hear it. He sounds ... wistful.

Dick’s really the only one of them who knows what a happy, well-adjusted pack should be. Jason's family was ... the less said the better, Tim’s were distant and then dead, and Damian...

Dick’s the only one of them who knows what pack could be like. Should be like. The rest of them just have ... hopes, dreams, more formed by TV than anything else. Jason gave, gives Dick a lot of shit for being so desperate to play happy families, but he also ... when Dick’s like this, bringing him down, making him face the reality of their heavily-fractured pack seems ... unnecessarily cruel.

“Whatever,” he finally settles on, performatively rolling his eyes as he reaches for the remote. “I get to pick what we watch though.”

Dick grins, bright and blinding, and Jason remembers why people call him the heart of the hero community.

Fuck, he’d be so good at fulfilling an omega’s traditional role for a pack.

 He basically does already because Jason can’t get his fucking shit together and--

Not. Now.

He flips through the channels, ignores Dick darting in and out, bringing more and more blankets and pillows as he does. By the time Jason’s given up and settled on some random movie, Dick’s herded Tim and Damian into the room. 

Dick settles down on a loveseat close to Jason, not close enough that he feels crowded but not far enough that it’s a snub. Jason ... doesn’t know how to deal with that display of thoughtfulness, so he shoves it under the rug in his mind and glances at his other packmates brothers fellow vigilantes. 

Tim, typically, flops face down into a pile of blankets and pillows and doesn’t move. It’s fairly even odds if he’s already asleep or if he’s going over expense reports in his head.

Damian, on the other hand, shifts his weight from foot to foot, glancing at Dick, at Jason, and at the open expanse of floor. Jason can’t stop himself from tensing up--Damian’s far too disciplined to display such an obvious tell, even after a couple of years of Dick chipping away at the mountain of bullshit Damian was taught by the League.

Dick, of course, notices. “Come sit with me, little D!” he calls and pats the cushion next to him.

Damian tuts and ... sits next to Jason?

Jason shoots him a glance, Damian scowls up at him, looks away and crosses his arms.

Jason chalks it up to Damian not wanting to deal with Dick (which, mood) and focuses on the TV.

--

A warm weight nestles against his side, and Jason blinks back to reality.

“What’s up?” he keeps his voice just loud enough to be heard, hopes to not disturb the others--Dick’s head definitely tilts in their direction, for all he doesn’t actually seem to look over.

“Hungry,” Damian grunts.

Jason pointedly tilts his head at pillow hell. “Can’t exactly help you with that, kid.”

Damian tuts. “Yes you can. You did before.”

Jason freezes. He’s never been really certain that Talia had him interacting with Damian before he took a tip in the worst-reviewed jacuzzi in the world--knows for sure they didn’t after, but when he’d been allowed in the excuse of a nest he’d managed to construct, he’d smelt something like...

That would explain ... a lot.

“I don’t know what you-”

Damian cuts him off. “You’re an omega, aren’t you?”

Dick’s definitely looking at him. The skin on the back of Jason’s neck crawls. “Yes, but-”

“You’re still an omega.”

And with that, Damian shoves Jason’s shirt up to his armpits and latches onto his closest nipple.

Jason nearly shrieks, nearly shoves Damian away, but then he sucks, and

and

he

remembers.

Warm and heavy.

Smelt like everything good in the world.

“Damian,” he murmurs. He feels like he’s just got a 2x4 to the face without the helmet in the way. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut by Bane. He feels like

He feels like...

He...

He lowers his hand until he cups the back of Damian’s neck. Damian crawls forward, doesn’t lift his mouth, and awkwardly curls up into Jason’s lap.

Ever since Jason actually realised he had tits, he’s always found them annoyingly large. He typically wears compression tops and sports bras, the only reason why he’s not is that he’d been planning to go to sleep and he hates wearing one to bed. 

“Guess that explains why,” he says inanely.

Damian’s not actually getting any milk--Jay doesn’t have a pup, for all he babysits Lian, and the pack would have to actively be nursing for him to make milk for them. And yet ... just the action is...

“Little wing,” Dick murmurs from too-close.

Jason turns to look at him, and Dick’s outstretched fingertips brush against his cheek. He freezes, arm still holding Damian close, and stares at his pack’s second.

Dick’s eyes are impossibly blue in the flickering light of the tv.

“Jason,” he says.

Jason ... leans forward, leans into it, but Damian sinks his sharp little baby teeth into his mouthful of tit and snarls all ‘fuck off this omega’s mine’.

Jason reflexively slaps the back of his head, a move he’s seen more than one omega pull on their misbehaving alpha pups.

Dick snorts and backs off, raising his hands like that’ll placate Damian, like they can’t all see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth (like they all can’t see tears pooling in his eyelashes). “Alright, alright, Damian, he’s all yours.”

Dick settles back in his loveseat and Damian settles down. Not even five minutes later and please-content-happy-happy-happy alpha scent floats over from Dick’s direction.

“Really?” Jason arches an eyebrow at Dick. He ignores the fact that he can’t seem to stop himself from combing his fingers through Damian’s hair.

“Really.”

Dick has no right to sound as happy as he does.

This has no right to ... Jason never expected this. Never deserved this. And yet...

And yet.

[dashesofink]

Cons of Keeping Secrets

Drabble: “hi! i just got this idea for imagine and since i cant write for shit, maybe you’ll be interested in writing something like this :) so Eddie Brock x reader imagine, where they are dating and are dating for a while now, but reader is still a bit secretive and doesnt tell Eddie everything, one of these things being her terrible past abusive relationship. One night they are in a heated argument and Eddie raises his hands to put on his head and reader heavily flinches. So fluffy angst. thanks ❤️”

Pairing: Venom/Eddie Brock x Reader

Word Count: 1595

Warnings: Mentions if past abuse

Genre: Angst, fluff

You hated arguments. You hated the yelling that was involved in them, and the regret that soon followed when everything was seemingly back to normal. You had always hated them, and thankfully Eddie knew that. You felt a great load of thankfulness and relief to know of Eddie’s understanding of your likes and dislikes; however, though the two of you had sat down to talk about your reasoning behind them, the topic of your past relationships never once came up. You refused to mention the yelling that was involved in your past relationship, or the emotional and sometimes physical abuse that you endured in fear of him ridiculing you. You didn’t want to burden him with that knowledge yet, as you felt ashamed of it.

Eddie always could tell that you were holding something back from him. However again, he was understanding, and he knew that everybody had boundaries and needed some space before opening up about something. Afterall, it did take him up to a year after you had started dating before he finally told you about Venom, and how he had come to a somewhat civil agreement with the alien symbiote living inside of him. He did, however, notice a few things that seemed off about you; not in a bad way that made him want to break everything off with you, but things that puzzled him. Like you always tried your absolute hardest to avoid raising your voice at him or him at you, or how when an conversation had grew particularly heated, you would shy away from him. At first he shrugged these little ticks off, as he always did, but the longer he was with you, the more he began to wonder why you did the things that you did.

Tonight, however, the only thing that seemed to be on Eddie’s mind was sleep. Work had been ridiculously stressful and busy, which meant he was on his feet the entire day with hardly any time to eat or rest throughout the day. Because of this, Venom has become hungry and especially annoying that day, his voice constantly nagging for food or something stupid, which only added on to the weight that seemed to weigh down Eddie’s shoulders as he slammed the door behind him after he had entered your shared apartment. You immediately jumped at the raucous, the cup of hot chocolate in your hands sloshing around a bit as you tried to carefully set it onto the living room table. “You’re back a bit early.” You looked towards the clock set on the mantel as you stood to make your way towards him, a small smile on your lips as you went to embrace him. “How was work?”

You noticed right away how tense his shoulders were as you hugged him, but what really pulled your smile down was how he didn’t seem interested, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. “Fine.” Came his grumbled reply, his hands only coming to your waist to move you back a bit before he dropped them back to his side. “Just tired is all.” You noticed the deep, purple bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and the frown on your face deepened when he refused to hold your gaze. You felt as if you could’ve cut the aura of frustration around him with a hot knife if you wanted to, and almost immediately you sucked in a deep breath before taking a tiny step back in hopes of avoiding an argument. Eddie noticed this, but he brushed it off as always before he let out a long sigh.

“Oh, well do you want me to—“

“No, no you just sit back down babe.” Eddie waved his hands dismissively as he motioned back to the couch, one of his hands rubbing his eyes tiredly as the other dropped his wallet and keys lazily on to the kitchen table. A look of confusion crossed your face before you glanced back to the living room, your toes brushing against the rug that was sat on the floor before you looked back to him. “Just don’t do anything for me alright? You relax and I’ll put myself to bed and shit.”

“Are you sure?” You had taught yourself to recognize whenever someone was on the verge of getting angry or upset, as to figure out a way to avoid the yelling that was soon to follow. But you cared deeply for Eddie, and the complete exhaustion that was showing on his face worried you. All you wanted to do was make him comfortable. “Maybe I can—“

“Just sit back down, y/n.” Eddie didn’t mean for his tone to come out snappy and loud, but he really didn’t want you to do anything for him. You seemed peaceful when he had walked in, and he didn’t want to ruin that for you by having you fuss over him. “You don’t need to do anything, so just stay there.” Once again Eddie let out another sigh when he saw your face drop a bit, and he turned his back to you so that he could walk to the room before he let out a small groan. “I just want to get in a shower and then—“

“I can start the shower for—“

“I said no y/n!” Almost immediately you backed away from Eddie was he spun back around, his eyes growing wide with frustration before narrowing at you. Your eyes too went wide as he took a few steps forward, and your feet moved seemingly by themselves as you matched his pace in moving backwards. Maybe you should’ve shut up and sat back on the couch like he had first said, you probably could’ve avoid his sudden yelling and the fear in your chest if you had just listened. “Just sit back down, now!”

“I’m sorry.” By now you had backed yourself against the back of the couch, your legs pressed tight against it as you turned your face to the ground in shame. You had learned that in these situations, it was best to just agree and apologize. Despite the urge you felt to wrap your arms around Eddie again to try and calm him down, you brought your arms tight to your chest as you looked away from him briefly, your lips turned into a deep frown. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“The only thing that’s upsetting me is.. never mind, it’s whatever.” Eddie shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, and he rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes for a few moments before dropping them to his side. He eyed your slightly huddled figure for a moment before he let out a sigh, his gaze softening when he realized that he had started to yell at you, which he didn’t want to happen. “I’m sorry, y/n, I’m just really tired..” Eddie froze, however, his words disappearing from his lips when he noticed your flinching away from him as he went to rub his forehead a bit.

Slowly, he lowered his hand back to his side as he rose an eyebrow in question, his gaze going back and forth between his hand and the sudden guarded stance that you took on. It wasn’t until you slightly jerked away from him when he took a step forward that he finally put two and two together, and his heart sank. “Fuck, y/n, did you.. did you think I was gonna hit you?” His voice lowered almost to a whisper as he stopped in his place, his lips turning into a deep frown when you didn’t respond. You kept your face towards the ground as you kept your arms positioned in front of your face and body like a small shield, and it appeared to him that you were scared to move at all. “Baby, I promise I would never hurt you, I swear.”

It was then that you finally decided to look back up to Eddie, showing him the fear and unshed tears that were brimming in your eyes. Within moments Eddie had wrapped his arms around your body, his lips going to your forehead as a small kiss before he began to rub your back soothingly. “I would rather eat a platter of nails before hurting you sweetheart, shit.” Eddie’s embrace was tight yet comforting as you buried your face deep into his shoulder, his familiar scent relieving some of the fear you had coursing through your body. Of course, you knew that he would never mean to hurt you, but due to the trauma from your past relationships, you couldn’t help but think that.

“I know I’m just.. I can’t help but get scared.” You still didn’t feel like now was the right time to tell Eddie about your past, even as he pulled away from you to press another kiss to your face. He cupped your face gently before rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb, his lips turning up into a reassuring smile before he pulled you close to him again. “But I’m still sorry if I upset you or anything.”

“No no, you didn’t upset me sweetheart.” You felt Eddie’s arms tighten around your body as he sucked in a deep breath, his face going to the crook of your neck as he held you. “You never do anything to upset me.”

“But you—“

“I’m just tired, okay? I know that’s not an excuse but… I’m so sorry that I scared you darling, you didn’t nothing wrong at all.”

[musubiki]

Can we have more details about why Lime and Mochi hated each other for the first 5 years and what were they like to one another during that time period? ^u^

YEAH!!!!! (ill put it under the cut)

➞

- mochi and lime first met when they were like. 5-ish, on the day when mochi and her mama (tiramisu) were moving/finished moving into their shop across the street, and limes family brought them over some welcome-to-the-district gifts

- so of course tiramisu and limes grandparents are chatting it up, mochi is kind of hiding behind her mom and lime is standing there holding kiwis hand and theyre just kinda looking at each other

- and this first meeting is the most hilarious moment of their whole relationship, because lime, an idiot boy, sticks his tongue out and does a “bleh!” at mochi

- mochi, an equally stupid kid, starts crying ghibli tears, and deadass just FLIPS HIM OFF!!!!🖕🖕🖕🖕

- AND HER MOM PUSHES HER HAND DOWN LIKE “MOCHI THATS NOT NICE!! Oh my god im so sorry idont know where she learned that haha-” (mochi learned it from her. shes secretly proud of her baby), and limes grandfather just kind of “oh no no its fine, he was being mean to her”

- and so they say goodnight and go back to their shops, but from that point lime just kinda picked on mochi a lot. (im thinking he had a crush on her first but didnt understand feelings that young so he just picks on her a lot????/ and then just kinda buries and internalizes those feelings for the rest of his life so it gets brushed under the rug????) 

- so he would pull her hair, push her, call her names, steal her food, all this weird shit. but then he would also like sneakily like peer out of his window at night to see if she was there in her room (and slam the curtains closed when she looked over and pretended like he wasnt looking) and like spy on her when she was in the shop (and run away when kiwi asks what hes looking at)

- and of course, mochi, being the badass in training, wouldnt take his shit half the time, and im pretty sure she like punched him in the face once?? or body slammed him or something??? and her mom is like “MOCHI OH MY GOD NO!! THATS NOT GOOD!!! [internally] (i love you so much that’s my girl)”

- and then when school starts they have to go to school together with kiwi because mochis mom has to run the shop, the whole way there these two idiot kids are either fighting or lime is picking on mochi again (tiramisu tells mochi its because he likes her and shes like idont care!! hes mean!!!)(she will care later)

- and from when lime was about ??? 5-7 he was friends with oscar, but when they were 7 oscar moved away to the big city with his family, and so limes only ‘friend’ left was mochi

- im pretty sure lime has put a frog in her backpack before

- and has probably thrown mud on her

- and every christmas they never get each other anything because “why should i, idont care!!”

- SO THEN. WHEN SCHOOL COMES AROUND, THEY BOTH GET COMPETITIVE, AND FOR THE NEXT LIKE 4 YEARS ALL THEY DO IS ANNOY EACH OTHER ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL, COMPETE IN SPORTS, COMPETE OVER GRADES, LIMES THROWING PAPER WADS AT THE BACK OF HER HEAD (he sits behind her) THEM BOTH GETTING SENT TO DETENTION, MAKING THEM SPEND MORE TIME TOGETHER LMFAO

- but also theyre kind of getting to know each other, and the fighting dies down into a more kind of rivalry with some making fun of each other, but push comes to shove most of their time is actually spent with each other, between running neighboring shops, sharing classes and sports, the commerce back and forth from school (especially since kiwi starts going to high school and they have to walk home alone together)

- (and this is also during the time when mochi is spending her weekends with her grandma training)

- and im thinking when theyre like….11-12 ish maybe?? (theyre still in the rivalry thing) theres this part in one of their normal school days where mochi is ACTUALLY being bullied by some older boys. like knock the books out of her hand and steal her money kind of bullying

- and lime sees this and he’s yeah, no. so he goes over and tells them to back the FUCK off, and of course they don't, and lime gets PISSED because IM THE ONLY ONE WHO’S ALLOWED TO BULLY HER ALRIGHT which actually leads to an actual fistfight, and this is also hilarious because lime is her hero for like 2 seconds before she mcfuckin  kicks one of the guys in the shin and/or balls and lime is all “???????!!!/!?!? you can fight???” and mochi, sweating, just kinda nervously looks away like “uuu.h.h.hhhhh….n……..no…” 

- so after the fight theyre just awkwardly sitting in the principals office, lime has a black eye, theyre both all stressed out hoping the school doesn’t call their parents, but the principal is cool about it and tells them “you were just defending yourselves, just go home and dont get in anymore trouble okay”

- and on the way home theyre both pretty quiet, mochi is kind of flustered because that was..pretty cool of him to stick up for me like that and lime is stressed out like fuck oh no oh god because hes SUPPOSED to NOT like her so why should i care??? if she gets bullied??? I don't!! but he does and it nags at him

- mochi keeps glancing over at him waiting at the bus stop, and he notices, (his face is red too) so hes like “what? why do you keep looking at me for??” and she hesitantly asks “hows your eye?” 

- lime, nervously, just kind of babbles out “pft- its fine. doesnt affect how handsome my face is so-” to which she kind of gives him a flat look, but laughs at it a bit anyway. he stares at her for a bit before laughing for a while too. she asks if it hurts, and he just kind goes “eh” and mentions it would feel a lot better if he had like an ice pack or something

- so mochi notices a small convince shop nearby, and tells him to wait there. she comes back with a little ice pack thing and like. a popsicle or something for him. he blushes and thanks her and they just kinda go back to sitting in silence at the bus stop, before mochi says a quiet “…thank you for- sticking up for me back there-” and gives him this sweet cute lil smile

- and he, an idiot, just like rubs the back of the neck, and has to physically stop himself from blurting out some “whatever” or “yeah it wont happen again” or some other shit like that, so after about 30 seconds of silence he just kind of mumbles out a “you're welcome”

- and from this point their relationship is a little different. like they both kinda go home and realize they were just jerks to each other for no real reason, especially lime who now thinks shes not so bad and he didn't even know how or why they got off on the wrong foot in the first place

- meanwhile mochi is at home struggling with feelings because “gosh that actually was really cool of him to stick up for me. he really actually is cool what the heck. oh no”

- and they start being less idiotic and mean to each other (besides the occasional joking) and actually spend more time together, and eventually they like bring each other food for lunch and talk to each other about their interests and stuff, and lime invites mochi to come todont watch his baseball games, and mochi supports him at all his sports events and stuff. 

- and they don't really realize or say it yet but they're best friends already. they're closest to each other and spend like almost all their time together

- (and im VERY sure theres gonna be some HORRIBLY embarrassing incident for lime that will have no details, but throughout the story it will be mentioned a few times by lime, something like “Mochi will NEVER think I’m cool!! She’s already seen me with that whole thing with the monk seal, and the shampoo bottle, there is no coming back from that!!” and everyone is just kinda “?????? what??” but it never gets unpacked. all we know is that is was REALLY embarrassing and uncool)

- but she does. she thinks hes cool. she thinks he is SO cool. she lays awake at night thinking about him

- and during this whole time mochi is getting to know the actual lime, and shes slowly developing a huge crush on him, which she first excuses as “noo its just a summer crush thing ill get over it” but she never does

- basically they were really idiot kids but i like the growing up dynamic

[hanjisungz-archive]

opinions on all the Hanbin, iKON and YG stuff going down, personally i will continue to love and support Hanbin, T.O.P and GD have literally both been in trouble for smoking weed and had no consequences but when Hanbin talks about buying drugs (but doesnt actually use them) during the hardest and lowest point in his life + passes all his drug tests he has his contract terminated, yeah i call bs. Hanbin deserves to be with the boys yet at the time deserves so much more.

hm,,, ive tried to fully put all my words into one coherent thought but if anything im not surprised in the slightest,,,,, yg will always continue to brush everything b** b*** has done under the rug,,, and theres a lot (theres a reason i have their tag blacklisted) its obvious that he favors bb because they made him the most money...... thats why i refuse to stan any of his groups again, after everything that happened to 2ne1 and how y* basically left park bom out to the vultures and the media, and then praised and promoted men that have had so many shitty, just disgusting moments (more than i can count on two hands),,,,, i gave up on all his groups

that being said, i tried to get into ikon and never really did... but hanbin did, under no circumstances, deserve anything that happened to him. after passing the tests, opening up about the hard times, and he still got shit from fans, from media, and the statement y* released about it literally made me sick,,, the fact that he seemed more apologetic for this ‘scandal’ than ANYTHING that happened with s****** ,,,,,, makes me wanna throw up

i hope hanbin and ikon will gain happiness again, and i hope y* rots in hell :)

[i-beg-your-parsons]

[Shreya] wasn’t in last week’s chapter, so have a fic (#1)

Relationship: Shreya Mistry/F!MC (Celestine Leblanc)

Count: 1775 words

So I’ve decided that I’m going to make this a series where I update this whenever a character (in this case, Shreya) is swept under the rug (so am I updating this every week, multiple times then? Who knows! 🙃). It’ll be good practice for me to get back into writing. But maybe not every week exactly, I’m starting my undergraduate thesis lol.

Apologies if they’re OOC, especially Aster? (She’s good friends with Shreya in this fic!!) I haven’t tried writing them much and it’s been a while since I did a fic lmao. Hope you peeps like!! Let me know if you want to be tagged for subsequent ones.

This uses the following prompts:

“My cat is more sassy than you’ll ever be.”

“Watch out! I can’t slow down! Move! Move! Move!”

“Am I good at skateboarding? Pfffft! Of course I am!”

Tags: @jellymonster, @deeohno, @coolios-beanios, @h-doodles

__

“Watch out! I can’t slow down!” 

Shreya is startled by a panicked voice, almost dropping her hand mirror on the sidewalk. She whirls toward the direction of the sound. What the - 

“Lady, please move, move, move!!” A blur of blue, red, and brown was hurtling towards her before her brain could really process anything. They make a sharp turn, just barely brushing her skirt, so thankfully she avoided being pummelled into the wall. Her three-inch heels, however, threw her off balance, making her stumble into a large potted shrub situated outside the facade of Maison D’Yew. 

Wonderful. How fucking elegant.

“Oh my stars, are you hurt?” A feminine voice calls out to her, presumably partially responsible for what had just transpired. Shreya inwardly huffs to rein in her annoyance. It would be extremely unsightly for a Mistry to throw a tantrum. At times like these, she was thankful for those dry etiquette lessons her parents made her take when she was seven. 

“I-It’s quite alright! I didn’t get hurt; just much too close and personal with this plant,” Shreya assures worried girl in her haughty ‘humble’ voice. 

(Well, something had to channel her anger. The thick branch digging into her back was not helping keep her head cool.)

She could feel the girl’s slender hands firmly grip her arms and try to pull her up. It was gentle and slow, but jagged twigs were poking her everywhere, “Ow, ow, ow!”

The sounds of her distress halt the girl from pulling her, but she still kept her grip. Her voice sounded more apologetic, if it was even possible, “I am so, so sorry! I told Zeph it was stupid to try riding the broom like a skateboard, but he didn’t really care because he said it would look cool.”

Everything was so fast and panicked and ridiculous that Shreya couldn’t help the wild giggles that bubbled up her throat as she nodded, “I can definitely vouch for the fact that it was stupid.”

Shreya could hear the girl grin, “Nice to know someone sides with me.”

A comfortable lull settles over them before the girl clears her throat. “Maybe I could try magicking you out?”

She seemed capable enough, so Shreya finds that she doesn’t mind. 

“OK, go for it.”

Flashes of green and brown lights from the Wood magick circle peek through the gaps between the leaves obscuring Shreya’s vision. Slowly, the twigs and leaves retract, revealing the face of her saviour as she leaned closer to pull her up by the shoulders.

And fuck: She was exactly Shreya’s type.

The blonde had her eyebrows furrowed in panicked worry as she gently picked off leaves that had gotten into Shreya’s hair and clothes. “Again, I am so sorry. I’ll be sure to give Zeph hell for dragging you into this.”

Shreya could feel the warmth creeping up into her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Her touch was so soothing. “It’s no problem. Is he going to be okay?”

The girl’s face scrunches up at the concern for Zeph. “Yes, probably… I think.” She opens one pale blue eye to find that Shreya was still looking at her, waiting for… what exactly? 

A furious blush colours the girl’s pale cheeks.

“I… should probably go make sure he’s okay. Have a good day, miss!” The blonde turns at the direction Zeph went off and starts at a sprint. It was only then that Shreya sprung into action, hurriedly calling out to the blonde before she left, “M-my name’s Shreya! What’s your name?!”

The blonde doesn’t look back at her, but she yells, “Celestine! See you around!”

—

“So that’s why Aoi was so grumpy when we stepped out,” Aster chuckles as she sipped her sencha tea. They’d been friends for a while, as Shreya was a regular at Maison D’Yew, despite having people who could easily run the errands for her at Mistry manor. Whether it was just a Shreya thing, or an excuse to visit Aster, the wood nymph didn’t mind. 

It was always nice to see one of her only friends.

“For what it’s worth, I apologised to Aoi the shrub before I went inside the shop,” Shreya offers. “And besides, it wasn’t all that terrible.” Her face warms at the memory of the girl — Celestine, she reminds herself — and the concern she showed for her. Shreya absently stares at the steam coming off her drink, remembering the blonde’s delicate blue eyes which were, fittingly enough, the colour of a strontium sulphate mineral, celestine. 

Her parents must be familiar with Attuneless science. I should ask her next time.

Silence descends over the two girls as Shreya spaced out and Aster observed her. She blows at her tea again, before taking a sip. “So when are you going to see her again?”

Shreya almost spills her hot drink and shoots Aster an incredulous look. The green-skinned girl pauses with a blank look of her own and blinks, before giggling as she realises her friend’s thought process.

“For the last time, I can’t read your mind unless you’re a plant. I just know what you look like when you’re excited about something.”

Shreya grips her mug a little tighter, in an attempt to fight down her worsening blush. Aster continues to observe her reactions over her cup of tea. “Or someone, in this case.”

“… She was really cute, okay?”

Aster can’t fight off the grin on her face. Checkmate.

She reaches out a woody hand to pry off Shreya’s own from her grip on the hot cocoa and pats her friend’s manicured nails. They were painted a deep crimson today. “You should ask her out.”

Shreya sighs, “But what if she’s not into girls? I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

Aster tilts her head slightly and blinks. It wasn’t like the heiress to resign herself to the possibility that the girl she was interested in identified as heterosexual. “But what if she is? And more importantly,” Aster leans into her friend’s personal space to whisper in her ear. 

“What if she’s into you?”

Shreya jerks back from her friend, clamping a hand over her ear. She shivers like she was just put under a shower of ice cold water. She narrows her eyes are the wood nymph as she tries to calm her breathing. “Why are you being so cheeky today, Ass?”

Aster simply shrugs with a pleasant smile. “One of us has to bring the cheek to move the conversation along. It’s obviously not going to be you, what with this smitten state you’re in.”

Shreya rolls her eyes, “Spare me; my cat’s sassier than you.”

Aster blinks, “You don’t have a cat.”

Shreya throws up her hands in exasperation, “That’s the point!”

The two continue to lock gazes in a contest of wills: Shreya with a piercing glare, and Aster with an amused sparkle. The competition was intense, as if the winner would have their argument proven right.

“Zeph, slow down! You might bump into someone again!”

Shreya’s attention immediately strays to the voice. Could it be…?

“No can do, Leblanc! Those croissants might get sold out!” A voice, presumably Zeph, answers as the front door of the café is slammed open by said male. “Hannah, my bro! Two croissants on the double!”

The short-haired blonde at the register rolls her eyes before shaking her head. “Alright, Denim. But sit your ass down, okay?”

Zeph flamboyantly stands at attention, before giving a dramatic salute. “Roger that, Pixie cut!”

“You’re being way too dramatic,” Celestine steps into the shop, putting her hair up in a ponytail, presumably to cool herself off from running after Zeph. Her hair tie is held between her lips, giving Shreya the perfect excuse to look at them.

Celestine seems to notice the stares directed at her, as her gaze connects with Shreya’s. Her eyes light up in recognition, and her hand immediately comes up to wave at the Fire-Att. 

“Why hello, Shreya! Fancy seeing you again,” Celestine walks over to their table, then rocks back and forth on her heels as she stands.

Shreya brings up a had to wave back, feeling the clamminess that had suddenly developed. “Hi, Celestine. I’m usually here every Saturday with my friend Aster here.” She gestures to Aster, who was absolutely buzzing with excitement. The flowers in her hair were blooming.

“As she said, my name is Aster and it’s so wonderful to meet you, Celestine. Shreya was just telling me about the incident this morning with my Hydrangea macrophylla, Aoi.” The wood nymph managed to get up from her seat and move towards Celestine within that sentence to grasp and shake the girl’s pale hand with her pliant fingers. “He’s thankful for your wood magick because it fixed the branches Shreya broke when she fell into him.”

Celestine draws a blank look, before looking over to Shreya for help. The heiress simply nods, but what does that even mean? She decides that it’s better to play along. “Well, he’s very welcome. I didn’t get the chance to tell him that his flowers were a very beautiful shade of blue.”

“Honestly, Aster, how many times do I have to apologise?” Shreya complains from her seat on the table.

Aster grins at Celestine’s response while pointedly ignoring Shreya, “I’ll be sure he gets the message.” She stares meaningfully into the confused blonde’s eyes, bringing up a hand to hover over the other girl’s cheek. Celestine can feel the coolness of her skin, a plant-like material that felt much like the stem of a flower. Her eyes suddenly darken into a tar-black, seeping into the veins of her translucent skin, “It’s not often that you find humans — Attuned, especially — who care as much for plants.”

Sensing the newcomer’s shock and exponentially growing discomfort, Shreya interrupts. “Hey, uhm, Celestine, would you guys like to sit with us?”

And just as suddenly, Aster is back from her Branching, “That’s a wonderful idea!” She moves to pull out the chair next to Shreya (and if it ends up skewed a little too close to her friend’s seat, well, Aster doesn’t know anything about that).

“I’ll go ahead and assist your friend there are the counter. It seems like he’s having a bit of trouble,” Aster points to where Zeph is gesturing wildly in a conversation with Hannah (aka Pixie cut), who was managing the counter. “Don’t eat her up while I’m gone,” she grins at Shreya, who blushed at the insinuation, but kept her cool this time. 

She fires back with a grin of her own.

“I make no promises.”

––

[dovahgarbage]

Thots on Far Cry New Dawn

ok so. imma put some of this under the cut because i dont want to spoil it for you’s who are still playing through it. but uhhhh gotta say. i was a bit underwhelmed by it over all.

ok so firstly i try not to judge a series of games based on previous installments because it doesnt feel fair to compare apples and oranges. but... this game was so obsessed with what happened in fc5 that it only feels fair that i’m allowed to look back as well.

So first and foremost, the game has a large emotional disconnect between Cap and citizens of hope county. All we really know about cap is that they are working for Thomas Rush to rebuild settlements across America.  So they aren’t even from hope county and they have no context for anything that waits for them there. I was excited to see an outside perspective on the events of fc5, hear stories about the deputy that brought on the end of the world. I learned v quickly that this was a fool’s dream. See the problem with relaying the events of fc5 to a character like cap is they have next to no reason to be invested in the past of this area except “hey there’s fresh water here” or “hey this is a defensible position right”. Any emotional weight is shrugged off by Cap having no context of the history of these people or their struggles with each other. WE as players know everything. We’ve seen the horrors of Eden’s gate, we’ve seen the destruction the Seeds brought to hope county. We know what the fuck is going on. But cap has NO idea. And honestly isn’t really given a reason to try and find out more about it. Everything cap is doing is in an effort to bring down the highway men and build up settlements. (well. Settlement. All we have are outposts) why the hell would they care about who was who. What the fuck is a boomer. Who is this deputy everyone vaguely mentions and why do I give a shit?

And this gets to be a more noticeable problem as we interact with Joseph Seed. Big Daddy Greasy Jesus himself. I hate joseph as a person, love him as a villain. But… seeing him in this game, being forced to work with him as a player (KNOWING what he’s done and the countless lives he’s ruined) and the whole while the only person cap sees is some yoda motherfucker with meth apples that help you hulk out like… once.

That moment when joseph asks you to kill him? It made No Sense as to why cap would shoot him?? In their eyes, joseph has done nothing wrong. Ok maybe he wasn’t an A+ parent but nothing worth killing him over. This moment that is supposed to hold so much weight and meant to be a sort of catharsis for us as players and it just feels… hollow.

Lets discuss the Deputy. Because I have. Many feelings.

I honestly don’t understand why they weren’t the player character again. The narrative wouldn’t have had this huge emotional canyon to be filled between the county and cap. Coming across old guns for hire and friends would actually have… meant something. Revisiting old locations only to see them crumbled and over grown. Any interaction between them and joseph seed would have been charged with tension and held more water. Not to mention it would have made that decision in killing him potentially rewarding and not just “ehh I guess, you dick.”

Instead, the Judge is just kinda… there. In fact everyone is just kinda… there. But I got a laundry list of how Ubisoft did our baby Rook dirty.

[if !supportLists]1.     [endif]Your efforts in the first game feel invalidated. Not just because you “lost” but because of how brushed under the rug the Deputy is. Only a few companions from the first game even Address the Judge. And even then, its no where near the emotional closure we would have liked.

[if !supportLists]2.     [endif]Sharky doesn’t even speak to the judge. Nor does Grace. Nick has one throw away line. 0/10

[if !supportLists]3.     [endif]Only Jerome and Carmina come close to giving any validation as far as showing a connection to Judge. Even then Jerome was more on the side of “I’m disappointed in you for having changed into this.” Hurk just makes jokes. Albeit funny jokes but still.

[if !supportLists]4.     [endif]Also wasn’t the identity of the judge supposed to be a secret? Why the hell does everyone else know and new eden doesn’t?

[if !supportLists]5.     [endif]The judge has NO reaction to either ending. None. Joseph lives or dies, it is the same. Silence.

[if !supportLists]6.     [endif]Also why the hell does Cap get to kill him when the Deputy has suffered infinitely more at the hands of that lunatic? How am I supposed to feel like this is a rewarding decision to make?

I don’t know about anyone else, but I was very attached to my deputy. She wasn’t just a shell I inhabited as I played fc5. I wanted to know what happened to her after she escaped the bunker with joseph and I wanted her to find peace and closure after all she had sacrificed and suffered. The Junior Deputy deserved better!

Ok, so I’m moving on to the Twins. Honestly, they should have had their own game. Their potential as well rounded and fun far cry villains is wasted here.

The actresses did a wonderful job in making them charismatic and I loved the way their actions synced up and how one would finish the sentence of the other. It was very unified and the connection between them was very clear.  

But I couldn’t connect with them as far as feeling threatened on screen. You could say it’s because we inherently don’t find women as scary as men in media and that’s entirely possible but narratively speaking, the Twins aren’t as threatening to me as villains because they lack something very vital – direction and purpose.

Mind you, all the far cry villains are so over the top and their motives don’t always make sense but I cannot wrap my head around the Twins motives? They’re here to have a good time and I guess they like to party but?? Why the hell would they want hurk’s baby, yknow? Why do they talk about problem solvers and problem makers when objectively, they HAVE to know they create more problems than they solve.

They TRY to give Mickey some depth with their mother and her making mickey promise to be better. But like… there’s not a lot of indication of growth or change or even regret in the end. After Lou’s death is only when mickey acknowledges that they only tore things down and never bothered making the world better but… lol where the hell did that conclusion come from? Why now? Why are you bringing this up now? (again cap has no context as to the significance of Mickey’s promise to her mother about protecting lou or trying to be better) At least with the Seeds they had a very clear purpose (prepare for the end of the world and horde as much shit as possible). Pagan Min had a purpose (crush the resistance that threatened his rule). Even Vaas as crazy and chaotic as he was still had a purpose in furthering Hoyt’s empire of drugs and slavery.

Also, the Twins are sort of in the backseat because of Joseph’s presence. It’s like ubisoft didn’t trust them to carry the series forward and instead chose to try and get a previous villain to anchor on. It diminishes their presence and importance and really just adds to the jumbled mess that is this game.

I personally blame rushed writing. Far Cry has a problem with putting out games fast and half baked. Far cry primal received a lot of flack for being a reused map of fc4. And I think given enough time and drafts this game could have been something better. Not perfect by any means. But definitely its own game.

All in all, I probably wont play it again. It doesn’t appeal to me anymore and has too many shortcomings for me to actually enjoy it. Day two of me playing it felt like just a confused slogging mess and I just zoomed through so I wouldn’t see spoilers on tumblr.

[tiredmop]

Strangle him with a Sock

Overwatch Fanfiction

Characters: Gender Neutral Reader, Jesse McCree

Relationship: Jesse McCree x Reader

Word Count: 10,015

Summary: Lips like fire, searing your skin.  Voice like whatever the hell he was drinking earlier, mixed with sin.  Hands like a prayer, wearing you thin.

He drove you insane.You wanted to strangle him with a sock.

Tags: angst, a lot of angst, not nsfw, its safe dont worry, suggestive since theyre in the shower, but only for cleaning, Reader has an obsession with keeping things clean, so this doesnt have a sock strangling scene but w/e, its really long, i wrote this in a flurry of blind panic because my friend told me to finish it or else, also i need outside motivation to finish things, 

Lips like fire, searing your skin.  Voice like whatever the hell he was drinking earlier, mixed with sin.  Hands like a prayer, wearing you thin.

He drove you insane.

You wanted to strangle him with a sock.

Jesse McCree; bane of your existence, resident cowboy and sharp shooter, smoothest talker this side of the world.  Also the biggest idiot you have graced your eyes upon.  Your first meeting was behind a bar, in an alleyway you had been passing, where you found him bleeding in a pile of garbage.  It was so pathetic you almost took a picture.  Instead, you decided to kick his foot, causing him to lift his head up, displaying the deepest whiskey brown eyes you could ever imagine…

Hidden under grime and dirt and a wild, rugged beard.

He smelled like cheap alcohol, as if he wanted to keep an image for himself but had no money to back it.  That or he was an alcoholic who enjoyed dressing like an idiot.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, dollface?”  You almost wanted to puke from the cheesy comment and the stench.  You made a face, contemplating on making a snide remark or just leaving him there.  Why did you even walk into this shit hall in the first place?

“You gonna say something or keep staring.  I know I ain’t in the best shape right now, but I swear I clean up real nice.”  His lopsided grin made you hesitate, but you kicked his boot harder, the spurs scraping on the concrete.  Turning, you left, walking slow so he would follow.

Like you guessed, he scrambled up, patted some dirt off, and followed.

“Where we going, pretty face?  Or are ya just gonna keep giving me the cold shoulder?”  He pressed a little closer, hoping to get a reaction out of you.  You only scrunched up your nose and walked faster, eyes set on the end of the cramped street.  There was a sharp turn there, invisible until you got right up to it, where there was a lone door.  The door had a huge imposing lock on it, old fashioned and corny.  But it didn’t function.  Under it was a small slit for a card, which you conveniently had, as it was indeed your door.

“I have seen some purposefully intimidatin’ doors in my life, but this one here takes the cake.”  You ignored his low whistle as the door beeped at your card and clicked.  Pushing it open and kicking off your shoes, you made a beeline to the bathroom, washing your arms up past your elbows.  You stripped and launched your clothes into the hamper, pulling on new, fresh clothes.  The cowboy blinked for a bit before removing his hulking boots as well.

“A little late for this, but, the name’s Jesse McCree.  Do I get the honor of knowin’ your’s?”  He gave you a lazy smile, shuffling in the doorway.

“Close the door, strip, give me your clothes, and get in the shower.  Use whatever is there, but do not touch the blue tooth brush.  I do not want the contents of your mouth to touch it.  Take a new one from under the sink, wash your hands before doing anything.”  Your voice was sharp like your gaze, analytical and precise.  No syllable you said was without purpose, and it reflected in his eyes.

“Alrighty then, darlin’, no need to rush.”  He begins to amble to the bathroom when you hold out an arm to stop him.

“Strip.”  You hold out your hand, finger tips twitching a little, signifying that you wanted his clothes now.

“I was hopin’ we could at least get through the pleasantries before you took home some drunk and demanded he strip, but I can improvise.”  You give him a blank stare as he hands you his hat and serape, hands moving to his chest armor and chaps.  Who in the hell wears chaps in public like this?  You move the hat and serape to your other arm, taking his armor and putting it on a chair.  You would have to sanitize that. “Off with the underwear too.”  You waved your hand at him, telling him to hurry up.

“Woah, easy there, sweetheart, I prefer to take things slow with this sorta thing…”  He gave you a messy grin as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and gave his hips a little wiggle.  You snatched them out of his hands and ran to the washer, yanking the door open and shoving his thinner articles in, leaving his pants aside.  He wandered into the bathroom and gave another low whistle.

“Sure as hell bright in here.  So clean I can feel the bleach in the air.”  He joked as you heard the shower start.  You picked up his chaps, hat, and armor and took them to the back porch, before backtracking and grabbing his boots as well.

You made short work of the dirt caked on it with a bristle brush and gloves, mask and goggles covering your face.  You leaned back with satisfaction at the soft leather, before rubbing in a mildly scented oil in it.  The leather was no longer cracking and you smiled under the cotton mask.

“Uh… the washer’s still goin’, so I’m guessin’ nothin’s done?  Oh hey, my chaps are clean!  They look great!”  Towel gripped around his waist, he pushes through the back door and admires your work.  Rolling your eyes at his shamelessness, you slip back inside, locking the back door.

“Hey!  Y’know I’m out here with nothing but a towel!”  He bangs on the window on the door, face pressed against the plexiglass.  He does clean up rather well, once his beard is in control and his face isn’t covered in grime.  Thoughts of his beard send you to the bathroom, eyes on the small trash bucket under the sink.  You close up the plastic bag and shove it into the larger garbage can in the kitchen.  After replacing the garbage lining, the washer goes off, and you toss the wet clothes in the dryer and put his pants in. You go back to the back door to check on him.

“Oh hey, y’know assless chaps are a thing in like strip clubs, ya know?  Ya reckon I could get hired if I have my own costume?”  You blink.  In clear shock to yourself, but to anyone else it seemed bored.  But there he was, in his nude glory, chaps and boots on with his hat in hand.  You took  a moment to look at him, before unlocking the door and walking away.

You frowned at your now dirty clothes, covered in dust.  Tossing those in the hamper you put on another set of new clothes.  Laundry was bountiful today.

“So, uh…. Can I borrow clothes?  I uh, don’t wanna sound rude or demanding, but walking around in just my chaps probably isn’t a thing-” You cut him off by tossing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt at him.  You ignored his muffled sounds of surprise and any other comments he was making.  You draped a wet disposable cloth over a sweeper mop and scrubbed down the floors, cowboy idling behind you.  You peeled the drying sheet off and tossed in in the kitchen bin, washing your hands again.

“Uh…. Sorry to keep botherin’, but why did you-”

“Sit on the couch, stop crowding me while I clean up after you.”  You give McCree a pointed look, mild annoyance on your face.

“Y’know, I would have loved to see the first sorta emotion from you to be more of amazement or a smile…”  He pursed his lips as he made his way to the 3 cushion couch in your living room, and you went to turn on the holo-TV.

“So uh, earlier I was gonna ask, why’d ya bring me here?  Ain’t like a plot to murder me or somethin’, yeah?”  You returned his question with a blank stare, eyebrows ever so strained with irritation.  You huffed and turned back, wiping down surfaces with a disinfectant wipe.  Jesse scrunched up his face a bit and sat tight, staring blankly at the screen.

“Do you want something to eat?”  Hip resting against the counter, you flicked the wipe into a trash bin.  He looked at you dumbly, mouth hung open a little.

“Uhhh…. Sure, I guess.  What’re ya offering?”  Lopsided smile and an arm over the couch, he seemed at home already.  Your face twitches for some reason as you turn and open the fridge.  Everything on little shelves and rows, neatly and perfectly visible from the front. You take out some cream and shrimp and set it on the counter, rummaging around for other ingredients for pasta.  Jesse rises and hovers out of range of the kitchen, a little anxious.  You barely contain a sigh and flip some hair out of your eyes.

“Do you need something? Water?”

“I was hopin’ you’d answer my question from earlier.”  The easy smile has a slight edge to it now that he’s closer and you draw your body back a fraction.  “Why’d ya take me in?”  There was a dark glint in his eye, hand ready even with the relaxed posture and lack of a weapon, but then again he probably could use a plate as a weapon.

“Cleaning up…”  Your mind trails as you slip a hand into the drawer behind you, hand wrapped around the handle of a heavy metal ladle.  The air becomes tense as the smell of cracked pepper and seafood float around you.  A soft sound of bubble starts, and immediately your fingers move to a set of tongs and you spin around to the pan, stirring the noodles into the cream sauce.  The tension cools a little, but mistrust hangs in the air.  The cowboy gives you a tilted smile and slides around the counter, closing you in against the counter and lowering the burner to a simmer.

“Now, something tells me you don’t run a charity for homeless cowboys wanted by several unkind groups.  So tell me, how do you know me, and what do you intend to do with me?”  His voice low and dangerous, sending an ice cold chill down your spine and twisting your stomach something terrible.  His words imply that you have the control, but anyone could see that currently, he held the most power.  Your face betrayed no emotion, but your mind whirled a mile a minute as you could smell the clean scent of shaving cream and mint of toothpaste, all while his natural musky scent still hung about.  His eyes locked in on yours and you became lost in the dark whiskey, swirling and pulling you into a trance-

“Hello?  Anyone in there?”  The cowboy had leaned back a bit, giving you more breathing room, but leaving his scent in the air.  You blinked a few times and his facial expression shifted a hair.

“I do not know who you are…”  You lied through your teeth, eyes darting to the side.  “I felt compelled to bring you home so you weren’t sitting in a pile of garbage.  I felt pity.”

He removed his hands from the countertop, taking a step back and straightening out his back.

“Be that way, then.  In the meantime, let me help you with food.  I may not look it, but I’m not bad in the kitchen.  Just don’t have many opportunities to show it.”  His easy smile returned and your heart dropped to your feet.  The two of you finished preparing the noodles and plating, moving the the island to eat.

The meal was a silent affair, tension still suffocating the both of you.  Your eyes never left your plate, the white, creamy sauce pooling on the bottom of the dish.  The cowboy let out a sigh and put his fork down a little too roughly against the edge of the plate.

“Alright, this ain’t workin’ out.  Let’s just come clean, a’right?  My name is Jesse McCree and I’m an internationally wanted criminal who’s honestly trying to do the right thing, even if it ain’t workin’ out.”  You looked up at him, your eyes catching in his.  The earnest and almost desperate look in his eyes made something in you feel funny.  You’ll ignore it for now.

“I’m nobody important…” You tugged your gaze from him, staring at your arm. “I do know who you are, and the local gang wants to kill you.  They aren’t good people, so if they want you, you must be good.”  Of course, this logic isn’t sound, but anything to aggravate those bastards and keep the locals safe.  Jesse let out a loud laugh, fist banging on the countertop and making the forks clink on the surface.

“An’ here I was thinking you were gonna rope me up and hand me in.  Ya know that sorta thinkin’ gets you with the wrong kinda people, right?”  He leans forward and tries to catch your eyes again.  “But I didn’t get yer name, dollface.  Care to enlight’n me?”

You cringe at the mention of your name.  You prefered this animosity that the two of you had.  You had been this cast off loner for so long, it felt weird to have this man ask you for your name.  The local gang made attempts to tail your movements, but you didn’t work digitally very much, preferring to take cash payments rather than online.  You met people face to face and did odd jobs for the people of the town.  You kept your head down and shut your mouth, extended an open palm to help and accept payment, and beat up a few gangbangers here and there.  Your eyes bore holes into your plate, like you were trying to reheat the cooling pasta with your mind.

“Alright, alright.  Don’t gotta tell me anything, as long as you’re fine with nicknames, sugar.”  Your eye twitched a fraction, but you didn’t say anything.  As long as he won’t pry any further.

You would live with him for the better half of the year, making it past New Years into February.  Life with Jesse was odd, but not inconvenient.  He came and went, but kept himself clean for you, noticing your obsession with the need to keep things clean.  This went as far as your odd jobs, keeping filth off the streets.  Whether it was picking up beaten up strangers or beating up the no good gang members, you did it all.  You were precise and meticulous, something the cowboy respected and kept up with.  For someone with such a relaxed attitude and sleepy smile, he was surprisingly agile and sharp.  Neither of you asked what each other did, just sat down every now and then and ate together.  He was true to his word, and what a fantastic cook he was.  You would never admit it, but you very much fell in love with his cooking.  And maybe a little with him.

No you would never admit to how much you loved his voice.  The sleepy way it tugged weak smiles at the corners of your lips, poking at the facial muscles you felt you have never used since you were young.  You would never even think about how him leaving his toothbrush teetering at the edge of the sink filled you with rage like no other, and how it felt like you were a couple who was comfortable enough that it didn’t matter that he liked to walk around in his underwear at strange hours of the day.  You wouldn’t ever think of the idea that you actually enjoyed his figure, and how it was the highlight and eye candy of your day.  Or that even you were comfortable enough to sit close enough to him that your clothes would brush against each other while you watched some random sitcom together, as opposed to the dreary news that would usually play as a white noise when you were alone.  You would never admit that you felt lonely on the days that he didn’t come home, or how you suddenly felt a pain in your heart at reading the sudden note in messy, hastily written cursive, wedged between the door and insulation.  Nearly illegible from the moisture that caused the pen to bleed.  And the blood.

Oh god, the blood blotted out the corner of the overloaded scrap of paper, and blotted out the last sentence.

Hey sugarplum.  Sorry I hav to bolt.  Dont got a lot o time, theyre after me.  Theyll be afteryou too so yu should relocate or at least find somewhere safe.  Sorry for eatig all your food allthet ime and not picking up after myself.  But youre cute when youre trying not to yell at me.

Trust me darling anger looks good on you.  Emotion looks good on you dont let nobody tell you otherwise.  We agreed to never ask each other but i really wish i did.  Wished i got to know you more.  Wished i had more time.  Wished i could tell you that I l-

The wrinkled corner soaked in blood.

He wished he could tell you what?  What?

The note haunted you for all of 45 seconds before shouts and screaming sounded behind you.  Whirling around, you eyed down the figures that seemed to merge together and fill the exit of the corridor.  You slid your card into the reading slot.  Hearing the faint click, you slipped inside, pulling the door closed as the sounds of bullet ricochet echoed behind it.  You wasted no time, ducking into your room as you heard pounding on the door.  Sliding the palm sized note into your pocket, you grabbed your go bag, rifle, sword, and-

You paused in front of your closet, hand hovering over your military short coat.  Your eyes were pinned to a pair of worn leather fucking chaps and the ever bright red serape.  Wandering down a bit, his gun and holster were there too, sitting on top of his chest armor.  He was out there somewhere, unarmed and unprotected.  Wandering in this godforsaken world where everyone is out for him, and he doesn’t even have his armor.  The sound of the door beginning to give way startled you out of your haze.  Without second thought, you stuffed whatever would fit into your bag and settled his holster around your waist and hefted the armor onto your back.  His chest was wider than yours, so you would just make do with back armor.  You hesitated for a valuable second as the door fell, standing in your room with one hand resting on the rifle strapped around your shoulders to your back, and the other at your hip where his gun hung.  You had fired it once, and the kickback was terrifying.  A “loose wrist” was the trick to it, but loose wasn’t a term you were used to.  But this gun did terrifying amounts of damage, demobilizing with a single well placed shot.  And with him gone, there wasn’t anyone using it.

Footsteps thundered into your house and you took decisive action.  Kicking the door clear off its weak hinges, you lined up a shot and struck one in the shoulder, which made it clear through and into the chest of another.  Jesse was a fucking liar.  The recoil shot through your entire arm, a “loose wrist” isn’t enough to absorb the shock.  Pain flew through up to your shoulder as you realigned for another shot.  The second delay brought them from shock, allowing the gangbangers to collect themselves and raise their guns.  You manage to take another out with an off center shot to a forehead before you side step into a closet.  Bad choice, you think.  This house didn’t have much exits if you didn’t have clearance to the living room, your first blunder.  Taking a deep breath you counted seconds and converted to bullets and waited it out.  The sound of two guns pausing to reload was the chance you took.  Crouching, you spun out and fired slightly up, catching one of them in the elbow.  Hearing the agonized scream and another gun stop, you stood up straight and lined up another shot.  A bullet tore through your side and you grit your teeth, arm swinging down and shooting the assailant between the eyes.  He was the one you shot first.  Wasting two bullets one one idiot, something you cursed.  You were down to three bullets and four opposers who were capable of shooting you.  You would have to make these three count and wing it.

The first challenge was more cover, so you dashed through the kitchen and grabbed a handful of knives.  That would work.

Peeking from behind the wall, you threw one and exhaled as you heard a garbled cry followed by a thump.  You either caught him in the neck or face, but that would be enough.  A chef’s knife, carving knife, and three bullets.  You would make this work, because you have to give Jesse back his stuff and tell him to stop leaving it everywhere.  That was the reason you were tracking him down, sacrificing your own safety and sanity.  Taking a deep breath, you threw the last large knife and heard the strangled yelp and a soft thud.  Enough time for you to line up a new shot, taking out the last standing man with a bullet to his neck.

You approached the kneeling man, the last knife wedged in his knee.  You kicked him over and slammed your foot against the blade, twisting it deeper.  His agonized screaming brought some sick satisfaction as payment for your destroyed home you now have to leave behind.

“What did you do to him.”  The question was more a demand, but it didn’t matter since you were getting questions now.

“I-I don’t know what you’re- AUGHH!!!!”  You ignored his pain and ground your heel in further.

“You know who I’m talking about, so don’t play dumb and tell me what I want to hear.  Or I fuck your other knee.”  The man on the floor is crying and bleeding all over your plush carpet.  The same carpet that Jesse would wiggling his toes into in the cold mornings while he still insisted on shuffling about in only his boxers.  The creamy white was stained with dark red, like the red that bled over the last words of his letter.

“Alright, I’ll tell you, please! Have mercy!!” A bit of irony there, since they spared no mercy towards the neighborhood, but you listened to his pleas and lifted your foot away, grimacing at the blood that was splashed over your boots, sliding and dripping onto the strands of the carpet.

“Jesse McCree, we found him in the marketplace with nothing but groceries, so we followed him.  One of the rookies shot at him and he ran.  We saw him duck out of the alley but he got away.  Probably out of town…..”  Your mind fogged over a little.  He was injured, but most likely alive.  If he was still alive when you found him, he could stand to tough it out until you found him.

“Please…. Spare me…. We spared him.”  Your eyes snapped to focus as you looked him in the eyes.  Fear was laced in his tears and there was something that made you feel giddy about your position.

“And I thought you guys didn’t do mercy.”  You fired a bullet at his head, watching the blood fly and his eyes lose focus.  You didn’t forget the one with the shattered arm, who was groaning back into consciousness.  Ending him quickly, you walked out of the front entrance, very aware of the crowd that had gathered about the end of the alleyway.  Mothers, teenage boys, little kids, and old women peered from behind the corners, fearful but hopeful.  You approached them, blood coating your foot, leaving fading blood prints as you walked.  You ignored the nagging pain in your side, walking tall with your head held back.  You pushed past the crowd, intent on finding your stupid cowboy.

There was a tug on the coat hanging from your go bag and you paused.  Attached to the hand clinging your bag was a small girl, holding out a worn and used band-aid.  The same heart patterned one Jesse had given her one day.  Jesse had made such an impact in the past 8 months he stayed with you, giving a kind smile to everyone.  Making all the women swoon with his whiskey dark voice, being agreeable with the men, and lending a hand to the elderly.  The children all loved him, ogling at his arm and charmed by his accent and smile.

The little girl lifted her hand a little more, silently urging you to take the dirty plaster from her small hand.  An elderly woman hobbled over and took it from the child’s fingers, taking you hand in hers and pressing the tacky band-aid into your palm.

“Come back soon.”  She whispered, followed by several shouts from the younger boys.

“We’ll take care of the cleaning, so don’t worry!”

“We’ll miss you, so come back quick!”

“We can have cake at my place when the two of you return!”

The words surrounded you, and you realized that your “silent” deeds were not as unknown as you thought, and that this cowboy did really mean that much to you.  You mildly cursed as you clutched the band-aid tighter and nodded, a faint smile ghosted on your lips.  You were going to find this cowboy.

It had been a long time coming, but you had finally found a solid location of your cowboy.  He had been on the move, wounded and with nothing, for a month before the location seemed to be consistent.  He found a safe house and you sped up your search.  He had been four districts over on foot, which was amazing considering what little he had, but no surprise since he was the type to charm groceries out of old women.  The people on the way had told you that they did recall a haggard man in a cowboy hat and an irresistible voice, but few knew his name or destination.  Most were told that he was looking for a beauty and a stiff drink, but not much more.  A few, mostly street children knew where he was headed.  A small deserted gas station store by the name of High Time, once owned by a mysterious man called Sean Black.  You smiled and patched up their scraped up knees and passed them some money and told them not to spend it all in once place.

You stood outside the dusty gas station, and very much considered turning around and going home, because it of course he had to hole down in the grimiest place he could find.  It was, of course, a safe house of that unnamed organization he was a part of, but it seemed unused since disbanding.  But true to his word, he was there.  You knew because his shirt was hanging in the back, and you saw it flapping in the dusty wind.  You thought you taught him better than to hang dry clothing in dry, dusty areas.  You would have to scold him later.

Scolding will come secondary, you think, as you walk towards the building.  You have more important things to tell him, like how the town misses him and how he left all his stuff in your closet, and how he led a whole bunch of gang members to your house and now your door is kicked down and your favorite carpet is forever stained with blood.  Snagging the stiff, over dried article of clothing, you duck through the broken glass door, the frame rusted shut.  Everything inside is washed with sand, the glass scattered in the floor blown smooth and the posters all faded.  The place seemed very fitting of a cowboy on the run.

The counter was covered in dust and sand, but a sole streak of clean existed, unnoticeable unless you were as much as a clean freak as yourself.  You walk around the counter, and there is a beaten up carpet, that is only a smidge cleaner than everything else here, and slightly off center, if the dust marks on the floor are anything to go by.  You snap on glove and pick up the carpet, finding out it is a flexible board.  Setting it aside, you open the trapdoor under it , revealing splintered wooden stairs.  You descend, shifting Jesse’s chest plate on your back.  You notice the two motion sensor ends at the second to last step and frown, debating on stepping through it or not.  If you do, you show that he is, in fact, in no danger and you pose no threat.  Also you can show him that he too can catch you off guard, even if you already saw through it.  On the other hand, it might be a trigger to a trap you do not want to be a part of, whether it is dangerous, or will make you look stupid.  You opt for skipping the the rest of the stairs and hopping over the last three steps.  You turn around the corner, and meet a face full of wall and a body pressing you to it.

“State yer name and reasons for bein’ here, an’ I might just spare ya.”  You frown into the concrete, unsure if this position should turn you on, or make you angry because he hasn’t recognized you and has the gall to pin you to this unsanitary wall.  You opt for the latter, since you’re too tired to find this enjoyable.

Gritting your teeth, you bend down, scraping your cheek against the abrasive concrete, and hear his face slam into the wall.  Cursing, his hold let up and you sweep your leg under his and watch him land hard on the ground.  Your face stings and you feel blood slip through the scratches on your face.

“You’ve gotten rusty and thin, cowboy.  The grocery store lady will yell at you.”  A smooth line to start with, this is going to go well.

“What- Darlin’?  What’re you doi- No, never mind what, why’re you here?”  Your face twitches, and before you can blame the burning pain on your face, you erupt like magma underwater.

“You led the entire gang directly into my house, made me ruin my plush white carpet with blood, and scared the hell out of the entire neighborhood!  You ruined my quiet unnoticed life with your damned country music and six shooter pistol, gave the local gang valid reason to shoot at me, which they did, and left all your dirty shit in my pristine closet you jackass!  And you have the gall to pin me against a wall and question why I came to save you from this shit hole of a grimey gas station and offer to feed you something other than military rations that are god knows how old and dented canned food?  Why did I come here?  I came here to tell you that everyone misses you, and so do I, even though you leave your toothbrush on the counter and not in the cup.  Even if you leave your shirts on the floor next to the godforsaken hamper and you refuse to put your boots away properly on the shoe rack!  I miss your singing and your shitty telenovelas, and I miss how I can get away with pretending to fall asleep so I can rest my head on your shoulder!”  Your eyes are leaking some unnamed fluid and the salt stings your cuts.  Jesse is looking at you like you shot him while growing a second head.

“I got shot in the side, and still had to move to look for your dumb ass, because I’m fucking worried about you!  You came into my life, ruined my fucking routine and lifestyle, make me divide my money between saving up to leave the shit hole of a house I own and buying you more food and clothes because you walk around with your own dust cloud!  You leech off of me and I’m completely okay because I love y-”  Your throat clogs up with some obscure sounds and you slap a hand over you mouth, eyes screwing shut.  Soft sobs erupt into squeaky hiccups as you fall to you knees, body shaking as you try to stifle the pain and cries coming from your chest.

It hurts.

So much.

Worse than the terribly patched bullet wound and the cuts on your cheek that are bound to become bacteria filled and irritated in a few minutes.

Your sobs turn into full fledged wails as the stress of 9 goddamned months came down in waves.  A heavy metal hand rests on your shoulder, as his human hand reaches under your chin, tilting you head up towards him.  Jesse is crouching on the floor in front you, eyes glistening from unshed tears.  The flood begins to slow from your eyes as your sobs dry up and you’re left a shaking and hiccupping mess.  After a few moments, he sits and pulls you into his lap, pressing your head against his shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.  You stay still, until you feel his body shake.  Soft sniffles escape his throat as you realize that he’s crying.

Oh god, he is honest to god crying and you’re sitting in his lap too stunned to do anything.

“God, darlin’, I never meant to hurt ya, and I was gonna leave sooner, but I loved ya too much to part.  Or maybe I didn’t love ya enough to let you go, but god forgive my selfishness, I wanted ya so bad…”

Your eyes widened further, his words settling in and weighing like a ton of bricks and pain.  Mostly pain, but it put together the last puzzle piece that was the blood covered words of his note.

Wished i could tell you that I loved you.

You pushed against his chest, Jesse’s grip on you loosening.  Your eyes met, and he looked like you were going to beat him to death or leave him.  You wanted to do both.  He had the audacity to put you through hell and back for nine months, and then he confesses his undying love that made you ponder over a damned scrap of filthy paper for the entire time you suffered on the road.  You raised a hand and he closed his eyes, brows furrowed as he braced for impact.  You hesitated before bringing it down with the force of someone who was at wits end.

“I deserved tha-”

You interrupted him with a backhand slap before taking his face into your hands and kissing him.  His eyes flew wide open as you looked at him through lidded eyes.  You pulled away before he could get comfortable, hearing the disappointed sigh that slipped out of him.

“You did deserve that.  But I love you too much to do anything more.”  You drop your head to his shoulder, tilting your face to kiss his neck, prickly from the beard that was spreading to the rest of his face and neck.

“I’m tired…. Your stuff is too heavy.  Carry me home, I want the comfort of my sterile kitchen and bed.”  You mumble as his heavy hands rest on your back again.  Jesse chuckles and kisses your head.

“Alright darlin’.  I’ll carry ya home.  Just lemme get up and grab my things.”  You slide off his lap, frowning at his disastrous state.  His undershirt had holes in it, one particularly large one in his side that was stained brown with old blood.  It was yellowish brown from not being washed in a while, or at least properly you hoped, and his jeans had tears in the knees and was frayed at the edges.  His boots were a fucking mess and cracking in some spots.  You saw his shirt earlier, which clearly was a mess.  You didn’t want to know the state of his socks and underwear.  Everything he was wearing would have to be trashed and you would buy him new ones.  Keeping him captive in your house with no clothes wouldn’t be bad, but that’s creepy and bad, so you quickly stomped down that idea.  He groaned a little as he stood up, tired and weary.

“Sorry for the state I’m in, wouldn’t be surprised if you wouldn’t even come near me till i scrubbed clean.  Which is funny since you…”  His face turned a slight shade of pink as he recalled the kiss and clear confession, and how you had rubbed your face all over him and pressed for full body contact.  A look of worry painted his face as he looked you up and down, noting the dust and wrinkles in your clothes.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve been dirty for a whole month, a few more hours won’t be anything once we get to a hotel and clean up.”  You shrugged off the heavy chest armor and the bag on your back, pulling out his chaps.  You also hand him his roughed up shirt, a few buttons missing.

“Hey, you brought my chaps!”  His eyes lit up as he took the chest plate and well treated leather.  He put them both on and you smiled softly, watching him walk over to a corner where a small pack was.  He had accumulated some belongings; a small handgun and ammo, essential for who he was.  It wasn’t the same as his six shooter.

“I don’t wanna sound needy, but ya didn’t happen to manage to grab my-”  You toss his gun and holster at him.  He catches it is an aborted shout, the metal of his hand clinking against the heavy gun.

“Peacekeeper!”  He looked like a kid on Christmas morning, as his iconic ensemble began to come together.  All that was missing was his-

He held out a hand to you, his human one.  He tried to avoid touching people with his prosthetic, as it was incredibly strong, and he did not want to risk harming people with it.  It was also expensive and hard to fix if damaged badly, and he didn’t know anyone he could ask to repair it in his current position.  It was a sweet gesture and quirk he had.  He had the power, ability, and skill to kill, but he just wanted people to smile and have a stiff drink every now and then.

Most were told that he was looking for a beauty and a stiff drink, but not much more.

Those words echoed in your head.  Why was he looking for a beauty, and who was this beauty?

“Honey, yer wearin’ my serape.”  His words shook you out of your mind as your eyes met his deep whiskey ones, swirling and drawing you in.

“You can keep it on if ya like, no pressure, darlin’.”  You clench your jaw and rip it off, tossing it into his retreating hand, turning and starting up the stairs.

“Hurry, or I’ll leave you here.”  You remember hearing his struggle to wrap himself up and grab his new gun, but you couldn’t be sure as you walked in a straight line to the nearest town, eyes forward on the road.

“Damn, you walked all the way here?  Then again, don’t remember you ownin’ a vehicle, since ya don’t leave yer town often.  You coulda just rented one, no wonder it took you a month… Nah I wasn’t waiting fer ya or anythin’, wasn’t even expectin’ ya!  Surprised the heck outta me when you did show up.  Actually didn’t want ya to follow… Seein’ as I bring my bounty with me an’ all…”  You don’t reply, even if you wanted to yell at him until his ears fell off.

“C’mon, give me a little sass or somethin’.  Or are ya givin’ me the silent treatment till we get to safety, like the first time we met?”  You remember then.  You didn’t utter a word until you were home.  Home… Where he belonged.  Or at least where you wanted him to belong.

“Sug’, I remember that hour like it was this mornin’.  Had a nasty time at that bar, a lotta men ganged up on me when I stood up against a fella creepin’ up on a young girl.  Think it was after that when they found out who I was.  But what can I say?  Gotta stand with justice.  If I don’t in this time of need, who will?  Can’t go about knowing someone is getting hurt for no good reason without me trying to do something about it, right?”  Of course he got attacked for being a good samaritan.  That’s just who he is.

“But then you showed up, sunlight cloakin’ you like some god sent down his best messenger to pick me up an’ save me.  You were so demandin’’, telling me to strip so you can clean me up an’ all.  Bet you were real shocked when I stepped outta the bathroom and lived up to the promise that I clean up real nice, huh?  This ragged ol’ cowboy turned out to be quite the charmer, didn’ I?”  His voice dripped like honey and it almost made you want to believe him through all his “looking for a beauty” nonsense.  You inhaled deeply and trudged on, the outline of the town coming into view.  

“Come on, we said we’re in love with each other, you can at least say somethin’.”  His voice had a desperate tone to it, and something in your chest pulled, but you ignored it as those words echoed in your skull.

“Alright, I get it.  Yer still angry about the whole carpet thing and all.  Wait up, slow down a lil’!  Look, darl’ I’m so sorry about that, I wasn’t thinkin’ straight, but I needed ta get out and I jus’ wanted to let you know before I left ya forever.”  You froze in your tracks, Jesse colliding into your back. “Forever, huh?  Is it still forever?  You’d still leave me after I brought your shit back to you through four districts in a month, took a bullet for you and royally fucked the entire town with the gang’s anger after I’ve killed seven of their men?  You’d still leave me after you told me you loved me?  After I told you something I’ve suppressed for seven of the eight months you’ve lived with me?  After the shit show that happened in that dingy basement?”  You shoulders shook with rage.

“Wha- Darlin’, ya gotta understand, I-”

“So you can chase some beauty, huh?  Isn’t that right?  I was just convenient for you.  Some sick pastime fantasy you can jack off to?  ‘Love’?  My ass!”  You whirled around, angry tears streaming down your exhausted face.  “You toy with my emotions that are conveniently available to you as I track your sorry ass through god awful deserts and dry, dusty flatlands!”

The words wouldn’t stop, neither would the tears.  Your mind swirled as a look of betrayal crossed Jesse’s face.  You would laugh if you weren’t already crying.  You’re the one who should have that look, but here you were bawling your eyes out for the second time today.

“Sugar plum, I don’t understand.  What’re you talkin’ about?”  He took a step towards you and you took two back.

“You think I wouldn’t ask people if they’ve seen you?  How else did I find you in an abandoned gas station?  You’ve told nearly everyone that you were chasing someone.  I was just a pit stop to you, wasn’t I?  You left when convenient for you, because I clearly wasn’t giving into your dick like others!”  At this point you were being unreasonable and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop.

“Then, go on!  Chase after this beauty of your’s!  Like it matters to me anymore  This trip was just to return your clutter anyways.  I don’t have use for fucking chaps, and it’d be a waste to toss out good leather.  My good resolve needed me to return your belongings.”  Your voice became quiet, as you remember the shock and pain that came with the gaudy flash of red in your closet.  Taking a sharp breath, you grabbed your resolve.

“But I’ve returned your things, so I have no more business with you.  Take this and go, God knows you need some sort of funds since you look like that.”  You thrust a large wad of cash into his hands as you brushed past him, the opposite direction of the city that had become very visible, the direction of your empty and lonely home.

His mechanical hand shot out and grabbed your bag, grip strong and unrelenting.

“Let go.  I am going home and taking a long shower to wipe your grime off of me.”  You ground the words out from between your teeth, trying to tug the bag free from his fingers.

“Sugar, I’ve been in love with only you since I saw you.  Always you.  There was no one else, babe, I promise.  There won’t ever be another, even if you leave me.”  The words made you hesitate, but you made up your mind.  His words were empty to you.  People only told others what they wanted to hear if it meant that they would get something out of it.  

Like Jesse would be any different.

Even if everything he did was genuine and came from his heart.  Even if his smile was so real it could outshine the sun and light up the night sky.  Even if his words held so much more meaning than anyone could ever comprehend, and he was more intelligent that he gave himself credit for.  Even if all of this was the thing that made you fall for him so hard that you felt whiplash at the impact.

But everyone lied, whether they meant any harm by it or not.

You shrugged the backpack off of your shoulders and kept on walking.  He could find someone else.  He would find someone else.  Because he was that damned charming and could flirt his way out of death’s cold, unrelenting hands.  He would forget you like it didn’t matter, because it didn’t.  After all, you were just a tool for others.  Someone who did dirty work and tedious jobs for a few bills so you could get by and relieve pent up stress by attacking the local gang in the dark.

Jesse grabbed the sleeve of your coat and you grimaced.  It was one of your favorites because of it’s durability and that you could machine wash it.  But you could just get another one.  You ripped your arms out of the sleeves and let it peel off of your back.

“Dammit, stop and listen to me!”  He threw the jacket to the ground and rushed at you, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tight.

“You’re hurting me.”  You said flatly.  He let go instantly, like the kind and naive fool he is.  The gears started working again as he watched you take a few steps, unfazed.

“Fuck- Darlin’ please listen to me!  I swear I’ve been in love with you ever since, I ain’t cheatin’ on you or nothin’!”  His arms found their way around you again, not as tight, but enough that you wouldn’t be able to break free.

“You can’t cheat on me if we were never going out in the first place.”  The words stung, you could tell, because it hurt you too.  All of this hurt so much, and you just wanted to be free of it.

“I’m so sorry I didn’ tell you earlier, but I didn’ know what to say!  You didn’ show any interest, you just seemed really annoyed with me all th’ time, so I just assumed that you didn’ feel anythin’ fer me…”  His voice was broken, like this moment would go down in flames and you would leave him alone on this dusty road.

You were, of course, going to exactly that, since you were tired of these games.  You were a fool to get tied in like this.

“I don’t want to be a part of your games.  I’m tired and want to go home.”  You sighed, closing your eyes and feeling the burning fade slightly.

“I promise, this ain’t a game.  I’m so serious about this, about you.  Please… Believe me.”  You felt hot tears land on your hoodie, seeping through past your shirt and now cool against your shoulder.  His face was buried against the side of your head, clinging onto you like his life depended on it.

“I wish I could Jesse….  But I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe anymore.”  You were a broken human.  Tired of everything.  You just wanted a hour shower and a year long nap, followed by doing nothing but eating tooth rotting sweets from the bakery down the street and watching more of his shitty telenovelas.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you, whatever you want, but….”  He paused.  The “but” was always there, in every conversation you had, and it never brought any good.

“But I still have to leave…”  His voice was quiet and it enraged you.  You fought in his grip, his arms not letting up.  You tried to slip under them, but he tightened his grip just before painful and you began kicking and screaming.

“You have the AUDACITY TO HOLD ME LIKE THIS, PUT ME THROUGH THIS, AND STILL TELL ME YOU’LL LEAVE?? WHAT IF I WANT YOU TO STAY?  YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THAT SO YOU’RE A LIAR!  A FILTHY LIAR WHO CAN’T KEEP PROMISES!”  You were being immature and you hated it, but all common sense and reason flew out the window with this man.

“FUCK YOU!  FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID HAT AND SERAPE!  FUCK YOUR DAMNED VOICE AND COOKING!  FUCK YOUR SHITTY NICKNAMES AND GODDAMNED FACE!  FUCK YOU, JESSE MCCREE!  I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU BEHIND THAT BAR TO STEW IN YOUR FILTH AND ROT!  I SHOULD HAVE JUST TOSSED YOUR BULLSHIT ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AND LEFT YOU FOR DEAD!  I SHOULD NEVER HAVE LET YOU IN!”  

His grip remained tight through your fit as your voice strained and grew quiet.  You breathed hard as you slumped in his arms, tired and sad.  Once your feet found the ground again, he let go completely.  You slouched forward and coughed through your sore throat.  When you stood straight again, your bag and jacket were in his hand to your right, accompanied by the wad of cash you had shoved at him.

“You don’t ever gotta see me again.  You don’t ever gotta think of me again.  But, please… Just want you to know right now that yer right.  I’m a liar who can’t keep promises, but i did love you.  I do love you, and always will.  You’re all wit and a quick mouth, with no outside emotion and a whole lotta humor.  Yer everything I thought I wouldn’t want or need, but yer all I ever think about.  It’s just that I bring a whole lotta bad with me, and you don’t deserve all o’ that.  You deserve better than I can ever give you.  I can’t be with you, it’s too dangerous.”  His voice was soft and even, like this was something he had rehearsed.  He probably did, seeing as this was something he clearly thought about a lot.

“And you think I can’t deal with a little danger?  I toy with the local gang for personal enjoyment and murdered seven people in under an hour.  I encounter near death situations nearly every night, and you don’t think I can deal with a few extra people coming after you?”  You whirl around and smack your stuff out of his hand onto the ground.  You were talking a lot today.

“I know you’re a liar and suck at promises, since you can’t even get your clothes to the hamper properly.  But I love you.  And you…. You said you love me too….. Isn’t that enough?”  You look up at him, almost shyly.  He hesitates before pulling you close, lips crashing together.  You’re quickly swept away by him, your hands tangling in his serape.  His hands are in your hair, disheveling it, before traveling down your arms and around your back. They go back into your hair and back down your back, like he doesn’t know where to put them but he wants them everywhere at the same time.  You cling harder to him, body molding against his like it was meant to be.  Tears slip out of your eyes for the third time today as his breath sweeps across your cheeks.  

He feels like home.

He feels like coming home and curling up in bed after a painstakingly long day.  He smelled like his cooking, rustic and homey, wafting through the house in the cold, sunny mornings.  He kissed like you’ve been together forever.

Forever wasn’t going to last though.

You pounded the side of your fist against his chest, pushing yourself out of the kiss.

“You can’t just kiss away the prob-”  You were silenced by a deeper kiss, teeth clacking together, and you swore you tasted blood.  His tongue pressed against your lips and you moaned a little.  You struggled to fight back again, still wanting answers from him.

“Darlin’, it’s more than anythin’ I can ask for.  But… You don’t deserve that.  You don’t deserve all the bad I bring…”  His eyes held so much sorrow, like every day with you was hell for him.  Holding himself back for the sake of your safety.  You couldn’t find words.  They were all gone, exhausted from all the crying.

You resorted to pulling him in for another kiss, soft and fragile, like the moment frozen between you two.  Words meant nothing anymore as the tension skyrocketed and dissolved all at once, like this was the end of nothing and the start of everything.

You pulled away, eyes locked on his, gaze even and determined.

“You sure ‘bout this?  Darlin’, if you don’t let go now, I won’t let you anymore.”  You took a sharp breath, thinking about never letting him go again, keeping him with you.  Some odd form of attempted domestic life forming in the small house that barely held together.  You kissed him quickly again, a silent yet sure yes.

“Now I ain’t ever gonna let you go.  Yer mine now, an’ nothin’ will make me stop lovin’ ya.”  A toothy grin flooded his face, the pain and sorrow from mere moments ago gone like the wind around you.  Suddenly, nothing mattered more than getting home with this dumb cowboy and spending forever with him.

“Let’s get somewhere habitable, yeah?  Standin’ out here in the heat and dust ain’t really a thing, now is it?  You seemed ta be headed in the direction of the city, so let’s grab your things and get goin’, yeah?”  You nodded dumbly as he went to get your coat and bag, swiping the wad of cash and stuffing in your pack.  The two of you walked in comfortable silence until you reached the town, booking a hotel room.  You made an immediate beeline to the shower, shedding your clothes are you went and turning the water as hot as you can stand.  You vaguely hear deep chuckling and heavy metal and leather falling on tile, but you ignore it in favor of scrubbing the dirt and grime off of your skin.  You scrub until your skin turns pink from the force and heat.

“Easy there, darlin’.  Don’t wanna damage the goods now.”  Jesse steps under the burning spray and hisses a bit before taking the loofa from your hands and scrubs your back lightly.  You note that at some point he removed his prosthetic, and that you would have to buy mechanic compressed air to flush out all the dust inside.  The thought of cleaning flies away as you feel a hand lather shampoo into your hair, fingers kneading at your scalp and rubbing the stress away.  You let out a soft moan, much to Jesse’s delight, and melt into his touch.

“It’s gon’ be a lil’ hard to keep shampooing you if ya lean on me like that.”  He kissed a soap free shoulder and you smile, turning around to face him as you finish up yourself.  You let the shower wash it away as you reach for the shampoo, your turn to wash the cowboy.  You reach up and dump nearly the whole tiny bottle onto his head, massaging it into his scalp.  You smile with satisfaction as you can almost see the dirt wash out.  After rinsing it out, he washes his body, the dirt clearing out and showing new scars and pink, healing flesh. You grimace slightly as you ignore them, opting for stepping out temporarily and digging around for a disposable razor.  When you step back in, he runs some conditioner through your hair, using the remaining in his hands on himself.  You take the rest of the bottle and rub it into his beard as a substitute for shaving cream.  You shave off the scraggly strays and clean up around the edges, making him a bit less ragged looking.

“Thank you kindly, sugar.”  His smile is more charming than ever and you flush a little harder.  You would blame it on the hot water if anyone ever asked.

Jesse leaned forward and kissed you, hands roaming over your back. “Mm… We need to get out….. Bed…..”  You whispered between kisses and Jesse leaned over you to shut the water off, never breaking contact.

You somehow made it to the bed, drying off for the most part and collapsing under the covers.

“Hey….”  His honey smooth voice enveloped you as you pressed yourself closer.

“Mmn….. sleep….” Was your response, inhaling the clean, yet still musky, scent.

The next morning came too quickly, and you found yourself alone in bed.  You shot up, eyes frantic before falling on his back.  He was sitting at the edge of the bed, hunched over a little, and it gave you an uneasy feeling.  Did last night not matter?

“Jesse-”

“Listen, I just wanna tell you…. Uhh…. This ‘s gonna sound real stupid now, since we went through all o’ that but…. Uh….” His voice sounded shy, but not distant, which gave you a little hope.  You sat up to hug him from behind, but realized he was blushing all the way down to his neck.

“The uh… Beauty I said I was chasin’..... Was you, really.  Promise.  I was always chasin’ ya.  Ya always seemed so outta reach from me, felt like no matter what I did, i could never measure up to ya…”  Jesse scratched the back of his head sheepishly and turned to you, face a deep pink under his beard.

You gave a staggered sigh.  A laugh, really.  It started evolving into some strange wheezing before turning into a full bodied laugh.

“Aww…. come on, darlin’, don’t laugh at me!  Took me damn near an hour to think of how ta say it without soundin’ stupid, and here ya are laughin’ at me.”  He pouted, and you leaned over to kiss him.  He really was your stupid cowboy.

He held you at your wit’s end with his unkempt habits and boisterous laugh. The little things that made you tick were equally matched with the little things that made you fall in love all over again.  There were days where you could strangle him and days where you could do nothing but want to shut him in your bedroom and stay in bed all day.  But the important thing was, he was home.

“Darlin;, ya still never told me yer name.  I won’t pressure ya, but-”

You kissed him, and whispered in his ear.

“-........”

[notoriousnewnew]

Talking to myself 3

Maybe He’s Too Late You’ve been hoping, wishing, waiting for him to call. You’ve been busying yourself with projects and plans, filling your calendar with lunch dates with girlfriends and workout classes and part-time jobs to fill the empty spaces in-between. You’ve been pretending that you don’t miss him, that you don’t reread through the old texts, that you don’t find yourself scrolling through old pictures of you two, so full of life and love. You’ve been forcing yourself to think of something, anything else, diving headfirst into that bucket list, into those to-do notes, into relationships that you’ve neglected during your time together. You’ve been working on you, on your goals, on anything and everything that contains no trace of him. You’ve been acting like you’re fine, letting go and moving on. Until suddenly, surprisingly, you did. One day you woke up and didn’t immediately think of him, didn’t automatically find yourself wandering to thoughts of the two of you together, walking hand-and-hand into another day. One day you rolled over and didn’t feel his absence on the other side of the bed. You brushed your hair and got dressed without wondering whether he’d like the new jeans you bought. You made breakfast that didn’t include his usual request of sunny-side eggs. You got ready for work. You answered emails. You scrolled through your social media. You got in your car and turned on your favorite radio station. And you didn’t think about him at all. You let him go. It wasn’t easy. There were days when it hurt so bad you wanted nothing more than to just sulk in your misery, wrap the blankets tightly around you and call in sick to work with the debilitating ache of a broken heart. You had slivers of hope that he would return, and they were crushed. You had days where you wondered whether you could actually make it work, and they were defeated. As time passed, you moved on. You found new people, a new purpose, a new sense of hope and self-love. And then, just as suddenly as you found yourself over him, you found him trying to come back. This was subtle at first, a few texts here and there, maybe a voicemail or ‘like’ of an old photo that sent your heart spinning into overdrive. Here was the man you lost, the man who walked away, leaving your heart a mess on the floor, the man who said goodbye, giving you no choice other than to let go because he had already released his hold. But here he was, coming back. Before you knew what was happening, he was asking what your Friday night plans were. He was bumping into you at the local bar. He was wondering about your love life, your work, your family. He was making a small space in your life, wedging his way through your stubbornness and independence to hopefully make a home. And then, he was wanting you back. Not just the causal, ‘I miss you,’ or ‘I haven’t seen you in forever,’ but the ‘I want you in my life. I’m sorry. I need you.’ that pulled the rug right from under you. How dare he walk back into your life as if nothing had changed, as if there hadn’t been months and years since you’d last seen him, as if everything could, and would, fall back to how it used to be. You were angry, confused, frustrated and elated. You were hopeful, suddenly, at the prospect of getting back together. And then you were disappointed in yourself for even considering him. This is no hard decision, no easy place to be when you finally let go of someone you know you needed to, and find them back in your life as if nothing changed. But sweet girl, please remember this—there comes a time when love grows up, stands up, and knows what it wants. There comes a time when you don’t have to question someone’s intentions or desires because they are clear, because they are present, because that person never left. You may have let go of him, you may be in love with him still, but you need to ask yourself this: Do you want him back for the right reasons? Does he deserve a place in your heart? Are you willing and able to love him enough to forgive him, to bring him back in? And is he worthy? Does he love you enough to never let you go? Did he already lose you? Maybe he’s lost his chance this time around. Maybe he should have known months and years ago that you were the one he wanted. Maybe he’s a little too late. I know this hurts. I know this is confusing. I know there’s a weight on your chest too heavy to bear. But you have to know what you deserve, sweetie. You have to know that there is love out there that never leaves. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the person you should be pursuing. The one you don’t have to chase because he’s beside you. Because when push comes to shove, he stays. I mistook your abuse for love. No, you did not hit me. You did not lay a finger on my skin, you couldn't. Not because I was a girl, but because it was against your morals, and your ego. You did worse. You emotionally and mentally abused me. But maybe I did the bigger mistakes here. I let you. I didn't leave. I romanticized it. You would cuss me out and call me worthless and say it was out of love. You'd say I wasn't worth your time, and that you were doing more important things - and i'd still talk to you later. You'd call me stupid and brainless and I let you, just so you'd calm down and then tell myself you only said all of that because you were angry at the time. You'd look me in the eyes and tell me you were sick and tired of you. I'd look at the ground, sigh, and say I'd try harder next time. You'd scream at me and say unfathomable things that I can't bear to recall. I'd say to myself that you'd scream at me only because you don't know how to get the words through to me and want the best for me. You'd leave me to cry, look at me teary-eyed and red faced and make fun of me. I looked back at you and apologized. I told myself you only made fun of me because you were pissed and did not care about my emotions at the time. You'd tell me to stop crying because it's useless and I would say okay and force myself not to cry. I told myself it was because you wanted to make me stronger. You'd fight with me over the stupidest things, and I'd tell myself it was because I was wrong - and should not have said that. I'd tell myself that I was stupid, that I shouldn't have said that and I can't afford another mistake, can't afford to lose you. I told myself everyday that I was a dirty liar with no self worth and that I could be better, that you could love me again. I told myself that I was stupid and an oblivious idiot, because that was what you had told me. I told myself I deserved everything I was getting because I had broken your heart beforehand without even realizing it. But now, you broke mine. And you realized it. And you didn't do anything. I romanticized every single insult, every single fight, every harsh look you threw at me. I told myself you could have left but you didn't. That you loved me. That you were better than this. I was so full of false hope, that it would one day kill me. I told myself that I did not even deserve you. I told myself you abused me out of love. And I am still telling myself that. I remember the time when we were bothing lying down in bed for about two hour or so. He was asleep. I was awake. I can't sleep. It has always been like that. Maybe I long for some cuddle (but it irates him because the weather is hot even at night), or maybe my mind just cant keep quiet, i don't know why but that routine is tiring. I was staring at the wall just below the ceiling for merely an hour maybe, after i got tired calling out his name, asking him stupid questions and disturbing his sleep. He wakes up easily so i had to refrain from moving, which i barely accomplish. Thoughts flowed. Flashbacks. Realizations. I realized for a thousandth time that i dont want to be in a relationship with this boy, but as always, i cant seem to end it. It's either he'd threaten me he'd kill himself or i'd feel bad breaking up with him cause he'd beg for me like a toddler begs for his mom when she's leaving for work. I closed my eyes to drift away the thoughts and try to sleep when tears snuck out of my eyes. I really couldnt do this anymore, but telling him triggers a big 'fight' that i just cant risk having over again. But I knew he wasn't the right guy for me. He claims he love me when in fact he really doesn't. I dont have the talent as to explain myself without him getting annoyed. And then i prayed. I asked God to touch my boyfriend's heart to end this, and to save his heart from suffering (if ever). I can't remember how but eventually i fell asleep, waking up earlier than him, as always. My prayer was somehow heard and granted by God. But when that time finally came, i forgot that i was the one who prayed for it. One time, i became the girl that begs him to let me stay and not chose this other girl that he once chose over me with. I was desperate and stupid to win him back, then i eventually got tired, and again it was the other way around. It was a bit tug of war back then, until i was the only one left holding the tie. Maybe he got tired of begging for me. Or maybe, he just grow up. He is not the boy to cry for her mama anymore. He can now live without me. And it gave me an unpleasant feeling, a big amount of unpleasant feeling to the point of being a freak. We got together, and break up. Together. Break. Together. And now finally, end. Well, i guess. I was depressed since he let me feel like he doesnt want me anymore, before i remembered that i was the one who wanted this. My reasons now came rushing through. I really did not want us anymore. The fact that he can live with himself and he is returning to his former love were the ones making me sad, but that did not mean i really want us back. Things were a blur up until we had that 'distance'. You really can see things clearer from a far.