#i remember being like 15 and trying to figure out why i liked fasting so much and joking that it was bc im a masochist

[ofpd]

can't believe that iirc the first time i fully articulated that judaism is a form of bdsm to me was barely two months ago like that feels so essential. it was a long time coming but still

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (15)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: E Words: 1.7k Summary: Believe me when I say...

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

It’s dark when you wake up, blinking against the orange glow of the fire. You try to get up but a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Whoa there, settle down now.”

“What time is it?”

The Cowboy glances out the busted window, “Sun set not too long ago. You were sleeping like a log.”

You press both hands to your face and wince at the tightness in your side. “How bad is it?”

“It was bad,” he tells you, shifting to hand you a canteen. He helps you to sit up slowly, eyeing you the whole time. “But I reckon you’re probably good as new now.”

Oh.

“You noticed?”

“I checked on you, if that’s what you’re asking. And yeah, hard for a fella not to notice you heal faster than a newt with half a tail.”

“If you’re going to make someone, might as well make them a little better, right?”

He frowns and you try not to meet his eye. You remember talking about being a clone, one of the side effects of being who you were was not being able to handle your liquor at all. Then again, even though you couldn’t remember much beyond him patching you up - you weren’t feeling the effects either.

“Might as well make ‘em perfect, I suppose,” he says levelly.

Is… is he calling you perfect? You try to meet his eye but he’s scowling down at the floor. Instead you reach for your stomach, gently touching where the wound is.

“Hurt?”

You shake your head, “No, just… tight. Sore maybe? Whatever it is - it only really works on wounds, not things like aches and pains.”

He must have more questions. He must. Like ‘Why did someone make a clone of Daisy Mae Jackson?’ ‘Why were those men looking for you?’ and ‘Why didn’t you mention any of this before someone shot at me?’ You’d have a dozen questions if you were him.

But he doesn’t ask any. Instead he grunts as he crosses the room, digging through a pack. 

“Cowboy?” you ask softly. “You okay?”

“Lot going on today.”

“Yes,” you say slowly, “but this seems like more than that.”

He only grunts in return and it’s your turn to frown. An idea occurs and you let out a soft ‘oh’ noise, hiding your smile when he whips around.

“You alright, darlin’?”

You let out a small pained noise and reach for your wound. He’s at your side in an instant, crouching by the cot.

Putty in your hands.

It takes no effort at all to pull him onto the cot, to spin so you’re the one crouching over him, legs spread over his waist. He gives you a bemused smile and cocks his head.

“Well now, all you had to do was ask.”

Pressing your hands to his chest you give him a sardonic look. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not the one pulling fellas into her sheets.”

“Are you mad at me?”

His mouth gapes for a second, jaw working, before he answers. “Mad at myself.”

“What for?”

“Not looking out better, letting those assholes sneak right up on us.”

“Stuff happens,” you tell him and when he starts to speak you place a hand over his mouth. “As much as I love the sound of your voice I don’t want to hear you berate yourself. These things happen. They’ll happen again. We’ll figure it out.”

A gleam enters his eye and suddenly you’re on your back while he straddles one of your thighs. Your hand is still over his mouth and he snakes his tongue out to caress your palm before gently pulling you away by the wrist. 

“Love the sound of my voice, do you?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Cowboy.”

He flinches slightly, so fast you almost don’t notice. But his grin is quick to follow, “Any other parts of me you love?”

Pressing your lips together you stifle a grin. “Not a thing.”

“Really?” His hand is under the hem of your skirt and you shift so he can push the entire thing up to your waist. “I seem to recall you having some fond feeling for certain parts of me.”

“Tolerable.”

He tuts at you and you sit up so he can pull your dress over your head. You’re almost naked, just your panties between you and him. A low whistle escapes him and he spreads his fingers wide as he strokes down your chest.

“Statements like that’ll go to a man’s head. Hit him right in the confidence.”

“You do not lack confidence.”

Another grin. “Be that as it may, maybe you need reminding of some things.”

His fingers tuck under the band of your panties and you still him with a hand on his wrist. “Take off your jacket.”

“What?”

“Your jacket,” you insist, “and the shirt too.”

“Darlin’, you don’t want to see all of this.”

“I know what you are,” you tell him, reaching up and undoing one of his buttons. “It’s not going to surprise me.”

“Surprise ain’t what I’m worried about.” But he does slip his jacket off, dropping it to the floor with a loud clank of God only knew what. And he doesn’t stop you while you unbutton his shirt, letting it hang from his shoulders.

He’s covered in radiation burns, deep rivets and ropey flesh. His stomach is bowed out, the edges concave in a way that makes you think something never quite healed right. He watches you watch him, jaw clenched and lips pressed tight.

“You’re beautiful,” you finally say, sitting up to press your lips to his chest. He’s so much warmer without his clothes, probably radiation. Thankfully you’d taken that Rad-X this morning.

“You’re a fine one to talk.”

He lays you back with one arm supporting you, hands immediately going to your panties and letting you kick them off. He shifts his position so your legs are thrown over his thighs, your back bowed off the bed. It’s not comfortable but you barely notice because his fingers are playing with you, flicking over your clit with practiced ease until you shudder under him with a soft cry.

“That nice?” he asks with a grin. He doesn’t wait for a response, pulling at his pants until he can press the head of his cock inside you. It’s exactly as you remember, although somehow even wider in this position. He stares down as he pushes into you, tongue licking out and eyes narrowing at the sight. When you don’t answer he squeezes your side. “What was rule number 1?”

“You don’t read minds,” you gasp out.

He frowns, “Wait, what was ‘tell me if you like it’?”

“The second.”

He grunts, shifting his knees, and you can’t hold back the soft moan. Fingers going back to your clit he nods, “Fine, well then rule number two, tell me what you like. This feel good?”

“Move,” you groan then shake your head when he shifts his fingers. “No, move inside. Please.”

“Oh you sound so pretty with your ‘please’s. You going to thank me later too?”

“I’ll do anything you want,” you whine, fingers digging into his forearms, “just don’t stop.”

“Never, darlin, I ain’t never gonna stop.” He’s on his knees over you, one hand playing with your clit while the other moves up to cup your breast. He’s fucking you long and slow, each thrust touching something inside of you that makes you see stars.

It starts to coil tight and high. Your breath comes in short pants and he’s smiling down at you like you’re made of pure gold. His lips pull back as he tries to stave off his own release.

“Ah darlin’,” he groans, “you’re milking me dry. Maybe one day you’ll let me fuck you full of me, fill you up til you drip with cum.”

It’s probably something in you that makes it happen the way it does, that makes you nearly black out and arch until only your shoulders are on the bed as you come. He talks you through it, gentle praise and filthy words until he pulls out and spurts across your stomach.

You feel frozen in time.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, legs nearly cramping from the position you’re holding but you can’t help it. Every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. His hands ease at your waist until you’re in his lap once more but even then you’re too strung out to do much else.

God, you’re shaking. You try to cover your face but it only makes things worse. A firm hand slides over your stomach and grips at your ribs a moment before you hear a hesitant question.

“Did I hurt you?”

You quickly shake your head, a breath shuddering through your body. His hands stroke you again, between your breasts and up to your neck before sliding back down.

“Then what the hell is it?”

His abruptness is so sharp, so him, that you can’t help but laugh. Pulling your hands down and giving him a watery smile while you continue to shiver. “I’m sorry, it’s just… that was a lot.” 

He tilts his head quizzically before it seems to dawn on him and he sighs. With one hand he shifts your legs to the side, sliding into the space behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you close, wrapping you in an embrace, and soothes a roving palm across your arm.

“Never come like that, huh?”

Another laugh and you turn to face him, letting him slip an arm under your neck. “You’re the only person I’ve ever been with, Cowboy.”

He studies you, eyes flicking across your face, before he quietly corrects you. “Cooper.”

“What?”

“Cooper.” His hand reaches up and traces your ear, “My name, it’s Cooper.”

“Cooper.” The name rolls off your tongue and you gift him a wide smile. “I like it.”

“It’s just a name.”

“It’s your name,” you correct him. “And I’m allowed to like it.”

“No skin off my nose.”

That strikes you as funny and you’re still softly giggling when sleep overtakes you.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 20)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

“Soldier Abernathy,” Boggs’ voice is the one to finally break them apart.

Y/N moves to her feet, straightening out her gear. “Yes.”

“Civilian Abernathy.” Boggs also acknowledges the man on the floor.

“Yep.” Haymitch groans, pulling himself up.

“There’s been an incident.” Boggs squares his shoulders.

“What kind of incident?”

“Peeta attacked Katniss.”

“He what?” Y/N stammers.

“Our Peeta?” Haymitch is getting older, surely he’s heard wrong.

Boggs nods. “Follow me-”

Without another word, Boggs ushers them to Katniss’ room in medical. She is limp on the bed, being changed into a hospital gown. She looks the same as she had when Haymitch left her, save for the large angry bruise, blooming over the expanse of her neck.

“Damn it,” Haymitch murmurs.

“How could this happen?” Y/N turns to Boggs.

“I stepped outside to give them privacy. When I heard the commotion, I went straight in. He’d already put her through the medicine cabinets and had her on the floor. It happened fast.”

Y/N brings a hand to her throbbing temple. “Thank you for…” Y/N breaks off. “I should’ve stayed with him.”

“Not your fault, soldier.” Boggs says, immediately.

Haymitch passes a hand over her back. See, you stubborn thing? Not everything can be your fault.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.” Boggs excuses himself.

The doctors trickle out, leaving Katniss in her neck brace, hooked up to a bunch of beeping monitors.

“She’ll be out for a while, by the sound of it. We should check on Peeta. Try to figure out what the hell’s going on.” Haymitch kisses Y/N’s temple. Watching his wife stroke dark hair away from Katniss’ face.

Y/N nods.

Peeta’s room is not much better. He is restrained, for his own safety. Unconscious after the attack, Boggs had to get him off somehow.

The results of the bloodwork returns without traces of any hallucinogenic drugs. The only abnormal thing found in his system is trackerjacker venom.

“So what does this mean? He thought Katniss was someone else?” Haymitch asks Dr. Aurelius, who’s come to deliver the news. He’s not a regular doctor, he’s a head doctor. Maybe he’s here to make sure they don’t lose their shit?

“Well…it’s hard to say. I’ll need to speak with him once he regains consciousness. For now, it seems a bit odd that he would remember Y/N in the hovercraft and in this room, only to not recognize Katniss a moment later.”

There must be something…something she’s missing. “So you think he knew it was Katniss and did that to her anyway?”

“I understand how difficult this may be for you to hear, but Peeta did attack Katniss with the intent to kill her.” Dr. Aurelius explains.

Haymitch shifts, meeting Y/N’s eyes.

“That’s why he’s restrained?” Y/N presses her lips together.

“This is for his own safety.“

“I don’t understand.” Y/N cuts him off. “He held my hand all the way home.” There’s just no way. “Peeta wouldn’t do that to Katniss.”

“I know it is painful for you to see them this way. But given your experience on the hovercraft, I have every reason to believe that we can help him work through this.”

“How?” Haymitch wonders.

“With the knowledge that he recognizes Y/N, we will be able to use a trusted source to sift through the information fed to him by the Capitol. In theory we will be able to reverse this fear conditioning.” Dr. Aurelius is already working up a plan.

“So that’s what you think this is? A response to fear conditioning?” Haymitch asks.

“He has lacerations, old and new. Evidence of shocks and beatings, that with the presence of trackerjacker venom suggests what one would consider brainwashing. A hijacking, if you will.”

“Have you ever treated a patient in his condition?” Y/N gnaws at the insides of her cheek.

“I have never seen anything like this, no.”

“We’ll do whatever we can,” Y/N says, immediately.

“For now there is nothing to be done. Katniss and Peeta are resting, which they both desperately need. I might suggest you do the same.”

“If it were your kids, could you rest?” Haymitch bites out, bitterly.

Aurelius nods, in understanding. “No.” He stares for a moment more. “As Peeta’s family is deceased, you are his next of kin. You will be involved in making medical decisions. If anything changes you will be the first to know.”

“Thank you.”

“There is one more thing, before you go.”

“And what might that be?” Haymitch retorts.

“Johanna Mason has requested that you also be listed as next of kin, until she is found to be of sound mind.”

“What about Finnick?” Y/N wonders, they’ve always been close.

“Finnick struggled during separation with Annie.”From what Aurelius can see, he’s still struggling. “He is in no position to make decisions about her medical care. Rather her be a ward of the district, she would have you.”

“Of course, we’ll take her.”

————————————————————————

Pollux is with Madge, when they return to the children, keeping all three entertained. There’s someone else, perched in the corner, quiet, just watching.

“Mom?” Y/N says, warily. She’s only seen her once since they’ve been here. The older woman was deep into detox and screamed at her to get out.

“Hi, honey.” As if nothing has happened. As if nothing is wrong.

“Mommy, look what we made for Peeta!” Arista holds up the off white paper banner, lined with drawings and colored flowers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Y/N chokes down her despair. How can I explain this? “It’s beautiful, he’ll love it.”

“You’re sad,” Everest calls her bluff.

Haymitch steps closer, saving her, the way he always has. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Is it Peeta?”

“Yeah,” Haymitch breathes, perching himself at the end of Everest’s bed. “Come here.” He pats the space on either side for his children. I’ll take this one.

Y/N follows her mother out into the hallway.

“How are you holding up?” The older woman asks.

“I’m ok.”

“Good.”

“So you’re out of rehab?”

“If that’s what you want to call it, yes.”

“You look really…healthy.”

“Y/N I saw Finnick’s broadcast and I- I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. That I couldn’t protect you. I know I wasn’t the best mother-”

“You did the best you could,” Y/N cuts her off. “As a mother, I understand that we can’t always be there the way we want to.”

“But you are there. Everyday and every night, you are there for those kids. They know that no matter what, their mom is coming home. They know that you will always be there. I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”

“It’s ok…I’m-” Y/N wraps her arms tightly around herself. “I’m ok.”

“When I lost Maysi, I lost myself. I tried to get it back, to get a grip, to keep pushing but I couldn’t. When you got reaped,” she breaks off. “When I saw my baby girl get taken from me I- I mourned you. I mourned you the second you got on that train and I never stopped mourning you. But you weren’t dead, you were alive and my mind, especially with the morphling, couldn’t comprehend that.”

“Mom, please, stop.”

“I know you must be angry with me.” Her mother tugs at Y/N’s hand. “But I need you to know that didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of this, you are so good. You are good and you are brave and you are strong. Better than I ever was or could be. And I’m going to be here for you now, if you’ll let me.”

Y/N nods, silently, brushing away tears. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

The guilt grows, festering like a wound. Guilt over the strain on their marriage, guilt for their absence from their children. Guilt for Katniss, neck braced, in a coma. Guilt for Peeta, restrained, turned into a weapon meant to kill the only girl he’s ever loved. Guilt for Johanna, tortured and stripped of her dignity. Guilt for Cashmere, who lost her brother. Guilt for Madge who takes on so much burden that is not her own.

“He’s been asking for you.” One of the doctors from Peeta’s team catches Y/N in the hallway.

The voice is enough to snap Y/N back to the task at hand. Haymitch is with Katniss, such is their agreement, until Peeta feels more at ease in the presence of others. Triggering him is not worth the risk.

Through the observation window, she can see him struggling, tugging at the bonds. Two doctors are beside him, attempting to soothe him. Y/N enters the room without hesitation, fighting her way into his line of vision.

“Peeta.” She says softly, moving towards him.

His thrashing does not stop, but he registers that she is there.

“Can we clear the room?” Y/N asks.

“Of course.” The doctors nod, they too are at a loss.

Peeta’s breathing is so shallow and rapid, she fears he might be hyperventilating. His eyes searching her sadly, warily. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Don’t you know what I did?”

Katniss. “I’m not upset with you, Peeta. I just want to help you.”

“You don’t know what it was like.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“But Snow did stuff to you too, didn’t he?”

“Nothing like this,” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat. “I brought you something, from the kids; my kids.”

“I remember…” Almost. Memories dancing near the surface of a frozen lake.

“They made you this,” Y/N unrolls the slightly crumpled paper. “Sorry I smushed it.”

Peeta’s eyes well up with tears. “Can I keep it?”

“Yeah, of course, we’ll find somewhere to hang it up.”

————————————————————————

“My colleague, Dr. Maes, informed me that the two of you had a rather…colorful conversation, at the bed side of her patient, Johanna Mason.” Dr. Aurelius says, during his later session with Y/N.

“She’s not a good fit for Johanna,” Y/N explains. “I’d rather you see her.”

“I couldn’t possibly take on Peeta, Katniss, Johanna, Haymitch and yourself.” Aurelius explains, “given her condition-”

“Take me off the list.”

“Are you sure that’s the best decision?”

“It’s the only option I have.” Y/N crosses one leg over the other.

“Tell me why.”

“What?”

“Tell me why that’s the only option and I’ll consider it.”

Y/N takes a steadying breath. “You’re the best they’ve got down here and we both know it. This isn’t about being a lost cause, or a martyr. It’s about people needing you more than I do.”

Dr. Aurelius sighs, “I’m sure Haymitch will follow your lead.”

“I didn’t mention it to him yet.” The longing pangs in her chest.

When she does tell Haymitch, later that night, he’s half asleep.

“Whatever you want, Angel.” He murmurs, pulling her closer.

They’ve hardly seen each other. She feels the strain on his heart, tugging at her own. Y/N fists a hand in his shirt. “You’re what I want.” More time with you.

“You have me by the balls,” he scoffs, “Stop torturing yourself. Everyone has to pay the piper and revolutions don’t come cheap. If we have to keep going like this; for however long, we’ll do that.”

“This is enough for you? Five minutes to ourselves before bed, after being apart all day?”

“You’re enough.” Haymitch breathes, “you’ll always be enough.”

Just you and me.

————————————————————————

Katniss wakes a day later, clawing at the brace around her neck and breathing hard. The monitors surrounding her beep frantically as Boggs tries to calm her.

“Hey, Katniss. You’re alright.”

Her hands move back to the brace.

“Don’t, you’re swollen.” Boggs stills her fingers.

Katniss leans back in defeat, her voice is but a broken whisper. “Peeta.”

Part 21

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly @misfits1a

[always-sleeepy-headd]

Uhhhh HEADCANONS ABOUT SANS AU GO

Nightmare probably calls Cross sexy unironically but not in front of him and Killer tells Cross but Cross won't believe him hehe

Swap def joined the Stars bc he thought Dream was hot (Depends on the AU LOL)

The entire council has been trying to figure out what the stars relationship is bc they'll get into a fight over cheese and then flirt for like seventeen minutes until they remember they were fighting over cheese and continue to fight over cheese

Swap and Error are ALWAYS best friends.

I feel like Error likes to hop back and forth with which side he supports, (in AUs with the balance he goes to the side that's losing currently) like he knows where both the Star Sanses base and the Bad Sanses base are.

Cross has a really bad spying problem, like, super bad. You'll be yapping to him and he'll bring up an ex you had 7 years ago like it was a normal thing for him to know about.

Nightmare thought Killer was crazy until he met Ink (TRUCE AU!!) 

No like seriously, Ink pulls so much bullshit and Dream and Ink are just like, fine with it??? TWELVE COWS???

Cross being scared of cows is completely unknown until one noms onto his shirt during a mission and he SHRIEKED.

Killer now thinks it's funny to give him cow shaped gifts all the time, while Cross isn't scared of those he finds it incredibly frustrating.

Cross is a people pleaser, you won't catch him saying to no to ANYBODY.

Dream is... really, really, scary. Like not tradisional scary, scary like I'll tell your mom what you said on october 15 2021 scary.

Swap has no gag reflex, and I know what you're thinking you nasty bois, anyway Dream has a video of Swap deep throating a pickle.

Swap is vegan, not cause he doesn't like meat he regularly eats vegetarian meatballs but because he really hates the idea of animals being in enclosed spaces for their whole life.

Dust always smells like cigarettes but whenever Nightmare is like, I told you no smoking allowed?? Nightmare can never find any cigarettes on him or in his room or ANYWHERE. (he looked literally everywhere including Killer and Horror's room bc Killer would do smth like that and Dust and Horror are like besties)

Cross is Dust's dealer, does he feel a little guilty? Yeah. Does he truly care? No. (He has slowly started to wane Dust off of his addiction by lowering the amount of nicotine in the cigarettes he gets.)

Cross is vegetarian bc he just doesn't like the taste of meat lol it makes him feel sick.

In truce AUs Swap, Cross, and Killer immediately get along- like scary fast.

Nightmare cannot for the life of him figure out the relationship of the stars in truce AUs and I imagine the monsters in the council would like kinda bond with him over that LOL

Horror smells like steak and Cross gags half the time he's around him and Horror feels so bad lol 

Why does Horror smell like steak you ask? Who knows.

Swap has little glow in the dark stars arranged to look like actual constellations on his ceiling.

Dream and Swap stargaze a LOT, like more than sleeping, it's actually becoming a problem lol like Dream won't die from lack of sleep but he functions WAY better with sleep and Swap has been forced into naps by his own body before. (Passing out 😍😍😍)

Dust and Cross have the most wholesome relationship they're so cute like they'll literally cuddle.

Horror and Dust have a similar relationship but Horror and Dust are still much different bc Horror is like... bold I guess you could say but Cross is like... not. (He's shy boi)

Killer and Cross are like, in way different relationship though, Killer is a troublemaker and Cross is a rule follower but Cross also breaks under peer pressure so they end up being bad and getting into trouble which Nightmare is so confused about and usually is just like 'Killer you are SUCH a bad influence what.'

Cross and Error have a good relationship, like they're friends and Nightmare doesn't understand how Cross did that.

Dream and Cross either HATE each other or are best friends there is no universe where they could be neutral about each other for more than 3 weeks.

Killer... has a flirting problem.

Dust and Killer's relationship mostly consists of fighting and accusations but also that's just how they show love to each other.

Okay, so I have another thing on Cross and Dust, basically Dust either thinks Cross is self centered and stuck up or he thinks he's not fit for the bad sanses based on his mercy (both of those end in the earlier headcanon hehe)

Ink and Cross probably become friends again rather quickly because Cross can't stay mad at him for whatever reason but they do have an emotional reconcile 

Nightmare and Ink have a funny relationship lol basically Nightmare is kinda terrified of Ink and Ink thinks Nightmare is fun to mess with and usually that ends with Dream trying not to laugh his ass off while Nightmare rants to him about how scary Ink is. (truce AU)

Nightmare is concerned for Swap lol like fr tho, Swap is like kinda not good at coping with things and he does it in a bad way.

AAAA anyway I supposably have ADHD because it's HEREDITARY APPARENTLY

Yeah lol I thought I had it before and now I'm almost positive sobbing

[rileys-battlecats]

was trying to figure out why I feel so Wrong rn and I think it's because I didn't follow my usual daily routine like At All and now my brain is freaking out. woke up at a vastly different time, had entirely different tasks throughout the day, took a nap at a weird time (to make up for the fact I had about 3 hours of sleep last night), zero human contact for the past 15 hours, and ate different food from usual (various leftovers from social events/thanksgiving, instead of cooking for myself like normal). and before I really realized that these were all things that were Bad For My Brain I was just wandering around my house like "why do I feel like garbage?? I've literally been outside so much today my brain should be happy"

ANYWAY here's to me not remembering I have issues with unstructured living because my days have been so similar for the past 4ish years that I straight up Forgot that things being too different too fast makes me crazy ✌️

[fishfooddude]

What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas... Part 3

Ellie's presence at The Bear is... entertaining?

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 2

Part 3- The Fight

“I don’t get why you want to work with him, baby. He never treated you right.” Jack sighed as he buttoned his sleeve. Ellie shrugged “Carmy is my friend. He’s also a really talented chef.” Jack shrugged “I guess…” “If it makes you feel better, I’m cooking with him today, but tonight, I’m sleeping with my insane and insanely hot fiance. Unless you suddenly don’t want to be my husband.” Jack chuckled and grabbed at her hips, pulling her into his body “I don’t have anything to worry about, right?” Ellie shook her head, “I love YOU, Jack. Carmy was just an appetizer compared to the absolute meal of a man you are.” Jack grinned and put his forehead against Ellie’s before softly kissing her lips. “I love you, Mrs. Aubrey.” 

Ellie walked into the kitchen and was immediately noticed by Syd. “Hi, can I help you?” “Yea- I’m Ellie. Carmy’s friend from culinary school and New York in general…” Syd nodded, side-eyeing her as Carmy came out of the office. “El, hey.” he smiled as he hugged her briefly, trying not to look suspicious. “Who’s this beautiful girl?” Richie playfully flirted when he saw Ellie in the kitchen; Carmy rolled his eyes at Richie’s comment. “I’m Ellie, Carmy’s friend from New York.” Richie nodded and watched as Carmy showed her to Marcus’s station. “She’s hot- you sure she’s Carmy’s friend?” Syd scoffed at Richie’s smart-ass comment, “Carmy isn’t totally hideous. I could see him being friends with her.” 

“Okay, I gotta ask. How’d you two meet?” Gary asked during family. Carmy stared at his phone, waiting for Claire to text him back about coming to the dinner they’d begun eating. “Well,” Ellie said after swallowing a bite of pasta, “I met him in culinary school. He was just this cute little awkward guy, and there were no cute guys in our class, right? So my friend Carly went up to him and tried inviting him to a get-together, but Carmy, being Carmy, said no. Fast forward three months, I discovered he was my across-the-hall neighbor.” Carmy grinned, remembering the day they realized they were neighbors like yesterday. “Anyway, we started commuting together, we got hired at the same restaurant, and it just kinda became convenient.” Syd looked between Ellie and Carmy, “You two dated?” Ellie laughed “I wouldn’t call it dating- it was more just ‘oh fuck I worked a 15 hour day and want to get my dick wet’ kind of thing.” Richie laughed and hit Carmy “Cousin, my fuckin man.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes at Richie’s pervy comment, “Then we got married in Vegas one night when we were drunk.” Carmy rolled his eyes “Yea, and you’re divorcing me.” Ellie was about to say something when she noticed a new woman standing in the restaurant “What was that, Carmen?” Claire felt her blood boil as Carmy turned to face her “Hey Claire…” 

“So you and Carmy got married?” Ellie nodded cautiously “Don’t worry, I don’t want him. I’m engaged to an awesome guy, and honestly, if I weren’t getting married, we probably wouldn’t have ever found out.” there was an awkward tension in the restaurant after Ellie explained the peculiar circumstances that brought her to The Bear. Claire nodded “Yeah, you’re probably right. Took him like 12 years to ask me out…” 

The mood shifted back to everyone making fun of Carmy and discussing how The Bear would get a star that year. After everyone ate, Carmy walked Claire out to her car, “Baby-” “Carmen. Why didn’t you tell me about this when you found out?” before Carmy could answer, Claire cut him off “You know what? I don’t want to know. I’m on call tonight. I’ll talk to you later.” Carmy nodded and watched her drive away. He waited until she turned the corner before pushing his hands through his hair. Carmy knew it wasn’t the right move not to tell her about what he’d found out the day prior, but she was already mad at him and figured telling her would just make it worse. He groaned, “Fuck.” 

Ellie noticed Carmy’s shitty mood throughout dinner service. It didn’t improve as the night went on. After closing, she watched him sanitize his station before going to his locker. She followed, “So… you’re in a shitty mood.” Carmy rolled his eyes at Ellie’s comment, “Yeah. I fucked up with Claire.” Ellie nodded “Well. It was great seeing you, CAB. I’m sending you an invite to the wedding, with a plus one. You’re a mostly okay guy, Carm. I’m sure she’ll come around.” Carmy laughed “We’ll see. But I’ll be there.” “You also have to stage at my place. We do this epic brown sugar habanero bacon sandwich- it’s fuckin fire.” Carmy shook his head and laughed “Of course it is.” “It was nice divorcing you, Carm.” “Right, back at you, Ellie.” 

Carmy was startled awake by his door slamming; he sat up on the ratty couch he’d bought off Facebook Marketplace when he’d first moved back to Chicago. If this had been a cartoon, steam would be coming out of her ears right now. “Okay, so you got married in Vegas, whatever. What was with that ‘oh, we probably wouldn’t have found out’ bullshit!” she yelled, her sloppy bun bouncing with every syllable. Carmy swung his legs off the couch to the floor and stood before her “Claire-” “Are we ever going to get married, Carmen?” Carmy swallowed as Claire’s eyebrows knit together. “Carmen, I’ve dealt with a lot of your avoidant attachment bullshit. I deal with the fact you work upwards of 60 hours a week. I get it. You aren’t ready to move in together. But today at work, I realized you haven’t even told me that you love me- unless we’re having sex.” she scoffed “What’s the end game here, Carmen? You shit on our relationship. You beg me to take you back and barely try to involve yourself in my life outside our relationship- what’s the end game? Do you ever want to get married? Buy a house? Have kids? What is the point of all of this, Carmen?” she crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt not to cry. Carmy sighed; he really needed a fucking cigarette. “Claire, I told you last year that I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be in a relationship- you still wanted to be with me. I recognize that I fucked up, and I’m tryin' to be better.” Carmy explained, “Can you look at me, Claire?” she huffed in response but obliged. He saw tears welling up in her eyes and instantly felt guilt wash over him “If I’ve learned anything about myself in the last 48 hours, it’s that I don’t think I’m actually in love with you- I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.” “Fuck you, Carmen.” Claire spat before leaving his apartment, “Don’t ruin Ellie’s relationship like you ruined ours.” she slammed the door on her way out.

Carmy sighed as he closed his eyes, lighting his fifth or sixth cigarette of the technical morning. He had slept since Claire left hours ago. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie. She was always so kind to him. It wasn’t just fucking to her, she put in effort for him to be comfortable in her space, but he’d never reciprocated the effort, and he knew it. He’d always assumed it was just his age. Being a hot upcoming chef in New York, there wasn’t a lack of women interested in him. If Ellie hadn’t been across the hall, at school, or work, he would have done the same thing to a different girl. Maybe he wouldn’t have married a different girl in Vegas, and while he knew they couldn’t stay married, part of him wished he could go back in time and change what had happened. Rewrite their love story. Be an actual boyfriend or at least just a friend. He didn’t deserve to be happy.

Part 4

[davidlcki]

scared together

this is part 2 to “payment”! read part 1 here.

pairing: medium honor arthur! x female reader

warnings: cursing, game typical violence, age gap, lots of blood in this for some reason, female pronouns used. let me know if i missed anything!

summary: after showing up at the van der linde gang, you needed to earn their trust. in the process, you notice arthur distancing himself from you. will you figure out why, or have to head back to your family, who pawned you off in the first place?

words: 7,331

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“come on dutch. with the pinkertons AND oddriscolls, we need anyone we can get. we need to put trust in some folks.” you kept quiet as you stood outside the tent, listening carefully. dutch let’s out a rather large sigh and you can hear him pacing around the tent.

“you sweet on her or somethin’? she don’t know how to shoot. she’s a farm girl! hell, she could even be working with them for christ sakes!”

“oh jesus, she’s not, dutch! i told you, there’s no way she’s a spy. it’s too random. she was originally payment from that family, remember? she’s just lucky i don’t like strauss enough to care.” you frown at his words. was that really the only reason he let you go? “i’ll teach her to shoot. don’t you worry.” arthur pushes his way out of the tent, and before you could move his chest collides directly into you.

“what the…” arthur’s initially angry tone quickly diminishes as he realizes that it’s you. “you spyin on me girl?” a teasing smile appears on his features as he looks at you with amusement. you were speechless, opening and closing your mouth like a bass out of water as you struggled to find some sort of explanation because, well, you were spying. arthur didn’t seem to notice your hesitation as he continued to talk.

“this is perfect timing actually, why don’t we go practice shooting some bottles? always good to know how to use a gun.” arthur wasn’t really asking you as he placed his hand on the small of your back and directed you to walk with him.

“i only shot a gun once, you know…” you trail off, trying to shake away the memory of the man you killed to save arthur.

“well, it wasn’t half bad, the way you killed that feller. got him right in the skull. best to aim for their heads, most sure way to kill ‘em.” you shudder to yourself at the thought of killing more people the way you killed that man. you and arthur stop about 15 feet away from a large rock.

“we’ll do it here.” you watch as he places a few bottles and pieces of fruit on the rock, then he comes back and hands you his pistol. he watches as you take a few shots, which whiz into the woods somewhere with a high pitched zing, not even close to the bottles. arthur watches with seeming enjoyment as you huff and try to fix your stance.

“this funny or somethin?” you glare at him teasingly.

“a little bit” arthur laughs, pushing off the tree he was leaned against and finally stepping in to help.

“here, first you need to relax your shoulders,” arthur places his hands on your shoulders and pushes them down to a relaxed position. “now, your feet should be like this.” he lightly kicks the inside of your feet until theyre further apart. meanwhile, you could hardly think about anything but the warmth of him being so close to you. “now your arms… should be like this” arthur leans forward, completely pressing his chest against your back as he wraps his arms around yours to position them correctly. you take a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on shooting and not the way you could feel muscles flex against you. he leaned forward so his mouth was by your ear and his voice was low as he spoke. you noted how he smelled like cigars and whiskey, and you hated how it started to become a comfort for you.

“now when you’re shooting, you wanna breathe in, exhale, and pull the trigger. only ever shoot on empty lungs. got it? now, line up the sights,” arthur nudges your arms up, then places a hand on your chest. you were sure he could feel how fast your heart was beating at the contact. “now inhale… exhale… and shoot.” you can feel arthur nod against you as you inhale and exhale, and when you squeeze the trigger the bottle in front of you explodes into thousands of pieces. arthur laughs again as you jump at the sound.

“good, good girl.” arthur stays for a second more before reluctantly stepping back, releasing you and letting you continue your practice and get a feel for the gun.

you quickly got sucked into it, determined to shoot everything on the rock. you were always willing to learn a new skill, and if this was what it took to join the van der linde gang, you’d do it until your aim was perfect. after a while of frustration, learning to control your breathing, and lots and lots of bullets, you obliterated all of the targets. the grass below the rock was littered with glass and chunks of mushy apple. you turned to arthur with a grin, ready to joke about how you were prepared to be the best gunslinger in town, only to find he was fast asleep.

you stood for a while, observing his sleeping body. you weren’t mad, in all honesty you were shocked he slept through all the shooting. he was leaned against a tree with his head down, chin resting on his chest. his hair has clearly not been brushed in a few days, but it somehow still looked perfect, falling a few inches above his shoulders. you leaned down slightly, looking at him from under his hat to see if he was really sleeping. he was. you were in awe of how long his eyelashes were and just how overall perfect he was without trying. in this state, he looked peaceful. you decided to leave him and go talk to dutch. you ignored the untrusting glares other camp members gave you as you weaved your way throughout the tents. you thought about how badly you wanted to be a part of something like this. you wanted to be laughing and drinking around the fire with the others. but first you needed to earn their trust. especially dutch, you wanted him to like you. he was the leader, after all. you found him at his tent, nose in a book and music playing softly in the background.

“hi, dutch” you stand before the man who acknowledges you with a grunt, reluctant to put his book down. “i just wanted to let you know, uhm, shootin is going well, i’m really getting it down. i just want to know if there’s a way that i can earn a little more of your trust.” now, dutch was looking up at you, brows furrowed as if he was searching for a lie to catch you in, for any reason to kick you out of his camp. you expected him to yell, but in the end he seemed to approve of your words as he started to pull a piece of paper from his pocket.

“yeah, why don’t you go head into rhodes? we need a few things for camp.” dutch hands you a small list and some money. “if you wanna earn our trust, this is a good start. there’s a spare horse over that way.” you nod at dutch with respect, and you couldn’t hide the smile that crossed your features as you thanked him and practically skipped off towards the horse. you felt like dutch was giving you a chance.

the trip to rhodes was easy. you got in and out with no issues and managed to get everything on the list. you liked the small town, even with all of the rich snobs that littered the population. it was calm.

the ride back was quiet, at first. you hummed to yourself, patting your horse and taking in the beautiful scenery of lemoyne when you heard quiet commotion behind you. you peer over your shoulder, noticing 3 men who were eyeing you like hawks. nerves began to rise in your throat as you kicked at your horses sides, speeding up to a trot. the men must have noticed this as they began to call out your name.

“hey miss! you there!” one of the men came up besides you, a misleading smile was on his face. you said nothing as you slowed to a stop and looked at him. the other two came over as well, you were surrounded.

“you look familiar… yeah, yeah! i seen you around not long ago with… what was his name? arthur, arthur morgan. that’s you right?” your heart sank as the man eyed you suspiciously, waiting for an answer.

“no, no. i don’t know of an arthur morgan.” you shake your head quickly, heat rising up into your face.

“no… that’s gotta be you. you just join the van der lindes?” another man questioned as they look at each other, and another one chimes in. “why don’t we take her to colm? see if he recognizes her.” you instantly recognized the name, as you heard dutch speaking about colm just the other day. you knew you weren’t supposed to be causing commotion around rhodes, but you needed to escape. your hand found arthur’s pistol that you kept on your hip and you made sure the odriscolls saw.

“i advise you let me keep on going.” you looked between the men carefully, trying your best not to show your nerves as you straighten your back. one of the men scoffs a laugh at your warning and began pulling rope out, and that was your last straw. the last thing you wanted was to be tired up again.

instantly you drew the pistol, shooting at the man with the rope. to your surprise, you shot him square in the forehead. time seemed to move so quick that you didn’t even get to see the odriscoll hit the ground. another gunshot went off, and your horse bucked you, sending you flying into the dirt. there was a warm, dull pain spreading through your abdomen, and when you looked down you noticed a gunshot wound that went straight through your side. everything started to spin as you tried to look for your gun, but the men were quick to jump off their horses and make their way to you. a string of vicious curses escapes your lips as you helplessly kicked yourself away, but it was no use. not a second later, you were knocked unconscious with a boot to the face.

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this was truly not the way you thought joining the van der linde gang would go. you were tied to a tree at an odriscoll camp, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that you seem to somehow get yourself into situations that involve being tied to trees. you couldn’t really remember the first day you were here, most of it was spent in between consciousness and trying to remember where you were. today, however, you remembered. you sucked in a shaky breath as colm walked back over to you. your head felt heavy and it felt like you were filled with wet cement.

“you’re going to tell me where the van der lindes are at. NOW.” you flinched as colm screamed, giving you a glare that could pierce holes through your flesh. you avoid eye contact and decide to stay silent. you don’t think you really had the energy to speak anyways. colm dosent like this, and delivers a smack square across your cheek. you let out a yelp and continue to squeeze your eyes shut. the smack shoots adrenaline throughout your tired body, giving you the energy to keep conscious for a little while longer. tears begin to drop, rolling down your stinging cheek. you didn’t think you were tough. not like any of the other van der linde members. you we’re afraid you’d buckle under the odriscolls torture. the only thing that kept your mouth shut, was the desperation of wanting to earn the gangs trust. you wanted to be a part of them, and you didn’t want to see any of them hurt or killed by these monsters. colm spits at your feet and scoffs with anger.

“when i come back, you better have some information for me, otherwise you’re dyin’ by my knife, girl. unless you bleed out first.” your mouth stayed shut as you watched him laugh and walk away through vision blurred by tears. you were afraid that no one was coming for you now. you knew people had to be wondering where you were, but did they care enough to come rescue you? does arthur care enough? hell. it had to have been almost 2 days now. your legs were going numb from standing for so long and the side of your dress was stained dark red with dried blood. you were having severe doubts. after all, arthur was not so kind to you just a week ago. why would he all of a sudden save you now? for the next hour, you hazily watched the sun set through the trees as you prayed for someone to save you. your wound needed to be tended to, and soon. you wouldn’t make it through another night. when the sun was barely lighting the sky anymore, colm came back over to you with a knife in hand, spurs jingling. roughly he holds the knife against your neck and you try your best to tilt your head away from him.

“last chance. tell us where they are, or you’re dead.” your mind seemed to run a million miles per second. if you told them where the van der lindes are and you somehow still escaped without being killed, they would never trust you again. you would have nowhere to go. and if you didn’t rat, you’d die, but the gang would be safe. it was crazy, giving up your life for a gang you just met not long ago, but you’d made up your mind. anyhow, you almost wanted him to kill you. to end your suffering. you close your eyes and prepare for the knifes blade to slice you open, ending you right then and there, but it never came. slowly you opened your eyes, realizing colm was staring at you, almost looking through you, the knife was held steady at your throat, drawing a little bit of blood. you quickly realized he was listening for something. slowly, he peered out into the trees behind you, and before he could speak, an arrow flew from the woods, straight through his shoulder. you watched, dumbfounded as he stumbled back, dodging a second arrow as he slid out of sight and back into camp. you craned your head to the side as much as possible as you attempted to see who it was, but you couldn’t.

suddenly colms men came rushing from the camp, firing wildly into the woods at the attacker. bullets we’re flying mere inches from you, and you flinched when one would graze the tree. you realized any of them could kill you in an instant, though they were preoccupied with the threat in the woods. suddenly, bullets began whizzing out of the forrest the same direction the arrows came from, and you heard familiar voices. colms men began dropping like flies, and the rest that were alive began to turn and flee the camp. upon hearing arthur’s voice, you dropped your head in relief, letting out shaky sobs.

“hey… Y/N? jesus…” arthur’s voice was panicked and soft as he ran up to you. he grabbed your cheeks with his gloved hands and tilted your head up to look at him. though you were crying, you managed to give him a smile. blood trickled from the corner of your mouth as you spoke.

“you found me.” you remembered the man who shot the arrows name, charles, and you must have thanked him a million times as he cut the ropes that held you to the tree. the second the ropes slid to the ground, however, you realized you couldn’t really stand anymore. your legs buckled, and arthur was quick to catch you. you let out a hiss of pain as he lifted you bridal style into his arms. the bruises and cuts on your body screamed at every movement and it was causing the world to spin. you grabbed onto his shirt and breathed deeply through the pain.

“i didn’t tell them anything”

“i gotcha honey. just breathe. don’t worry about that right now, you did good okay?” arthur whispered to you as he lifted you onto his horse as gently as he could, then hopping on behind you in the saddle.

“m’ bleeding a lot” your voice was slurred as you looked down at your blood soaked clothes, the movement reopened your wounds that were trying their best to heal. you were struggling to sit up straight, using all of your might to not fall forwards in the saddle. arthur notices this. without second thought he snakes his free hand around your waist, pressing firmly into the gash in your side to stop the bleeding while also stopping you from falling completely forwards. a loud moan of pain escapes from your lungs as your blood seeps out between arthur’s fingers and onto his saddle. your hand landed on top of his, an instinctual reaction as you resisted the urge to pry his hand away from you.

“lean against me darling.” his words snapped you back into reality for a moment. his voice was smooth and calm, keeping you from freaking out. you listened to arthur’s instructions, leaning your body weight fully against his chest and laying your head back against his shoulder so it wouldn’t fall forwards. every bounce of the horse, every shift of arthur’s hand, every breath he took, put you in agony. it was nearly unbearable at this point as you galloped towards camp, and you soon began to violently fade in and out of consciousness. you tried to say something, but the words just wouldn’t form on your tongue. the second the camp came into sight, you were out cold.

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when you opened your eyes again, you were back at camp in a cot. carefully you observed your body, noticing you were in a clean night gown and wrapped in a few bandages.

“oh, take it easy now.” an older woman with a large hairdo you couldn’t quite remember the name of rushed over with a wet cloth in hand. she gingerly pressed it against your forehead and sternly instructed you to relax.

“arthur… where is he?” your voice was hoarse as you coughed the words out, and you greatly accepted the canteen of water that she handed to you.

“don’t worry about that now sweetheart, just relax.”

“grimshaw! she awake?” you noted her name as dutch came into the tent. he gave you a pat on the shoulder, not noticing how you winced in pain at the contact as he continued.

“you could have given us away, but you didn’t. for that, i thank you.”

“yeah, of course, dutch.”

“you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like. i don’t trust you fully yet… i cant, in a time like this, but you have my respect.” even through your pain, you were satisfied, and a smile sat on your face for the rest of the gloomy day. the only other person you saw that day was mrs. grimshaw occasionally, but otherwise you were alone. left to do nothing but watch the tent flap gently with the breeze and listen to the distant chatter of camp members around the fire.

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the days swept by in a pain induced haze, and before you knew it, it was the evening of day two. grimshaw carefully helped you up to a sitting position, insisting you needed to move around a little. it was excruciating, but you did it. slowly you walked through the tent flaps, an arm slung around grimshaws shoulders as you did so. you kept your eyes trained on the ground as everyone stared at you like you were a freak at the carnival. with the sun beginning to set, mostly everyone was back at camp, fixing themselves a bowl of pearsons stew and settling around the fire. grimshaw helped you sit down against a log by the fire, instructing you to stay still as she ran to get you stew. you scoffed to yourself, as if you could get up and do anything anyways.

slowly, you lifted your eyes to inspect who was sitting around the fire. you remembered a few of their names, bill, javier, who strummed on his guitar gently, and of course, arthur. he was sitting to the right of you on a log, uncomfortably avoiding eye contact and taking a swig of whiskey. you leaned towards him slightly as you tried to get his attention.

“hey, arthur.” you say his name, and he looks at you nonchalantly. there was a terrible rasp to your voice and you imagined there was a twist of pain on your face, but you gave him a small smile. arthur huffs a hello towards you and stands up quickly. you watch him, confused.

“wait,” you tried to rise to your feet, but he was gone. a sudden flash of pain ripped through your side as you sat back down. it was hot, and spread outward the more you tried to move. you looked between the other men around the fire.

“what’s wrong with arthur?”

the men just looked at you, shrugged, and went back to whatever they were doing before. the strumming on javier’s guitar continued. at this time, grimshaw came back with a bowl of soup for you. you scarfed it down quickly, ignoring the stares you got as you did so. you were upset and confused on why arthur would all of a sudden not even look at you. you took it he was drunk, but still.

you asked grimshaw to help you back to your tent, deciding you wanted to hide away from everything for the night.

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you hadn’t heard or seen arthur since that evening. it was late the next day now, which consisted of mostly sleeping, eating a bowl of soup, and thinking about arthur. you felt you were going crazy. you tried your best to get out of bed again, but your body wouldn’t allow it. you could practically hear your limbs screaming to stay down, so you tried to do so though you were restless to know what was going on with him and why he was suddenly acting so weird around you.

there was an inner battle going on inside you as you laid on your back uncomfortably. your body ached and screamed, though not as bad as a few days before. you needed to see arthur, and you were upset by the fact that he still hadn’t came to see you or ask if you were okay even once. you wiped the sweat from your forehead as you stared up at the ceiling of the tent.

you couldn’t tell how he felt about you. it was constant mixed signals from one day to the next. you decided you needed to get up and out of this tent, now.

you knew it had to be late by the fact that reverend stopped his drunken singing and the music from dutches tent had shut off a while ago. you took your time getting to a sitting position, and you observed the stitches in your wounds to make sure nothing had torn. then, you rose to your feet, inhaling sharply as you did so. it hurt, a hot, searing pain, but your determination to see arthur pushed you further.

upon exiting your tent, you realized that it was REALLY late. the fire had died down, only a dim orange light was emitting from the burnt wood, and everyone’s tents were closed. you eyed arthur’s closed tent across the way before limping your way over. once there, you slowly pushed the flap open, revealing arthur fast asleep on his cot. his breaths were slow and even, and he looked content, no anger present on his features. now, you were debating turning back. you didn’t want to wake him, but you also felt like you couldn’t hold back your thoughts anymore. after carefully weighing your options, the thought of going back to your tent without answers convinced you to step inside.

instantly, you were infatuated with the little items around his tent. you picked up a photo, noticing it’s date and name, beatrice morgan, 1870. you smiled at the fact that despite being such a hard and tough man, he kept a photo of his mother on his nightstand.

next, you noticed his journal, on the chest by his bed. you contemplated for a while, not wanting to be nosy but also wondering what the hell he was constantly writing in it. maybe you could find some answers without you having to be confrontational. slowly, you picked it up. you flipped through the pages, mostly finding little sketches and observations, until you get to one of the last pages. you nearly let out a gasp, catching yourself at the last second before alerting arthur of your presence. there was a beautiful sketch of you taking up one page. on the other, was a passage about you.

“i know i should be visiting her right now. she almost died keeping our camp a secret for christ sakes, but i can’t. after what happened in valentine, i’m not sure she feels the same as i do. i’m a fool, afraid to fall in further than i already have.”

you were so focused on re reading this passage in arthur’s journal, you almost forgot you were standing in his tent. that was, until his rough grip was on your wrist and there was a knife at your throat. instantly you dropped the journal, locking eyes with him in a panic. you muttered an ‘im sorry’ that came out barely audible in your shock. arthur quickly realized it was you as he blinked sleep from his eyes. he lowered the knife, although not letting go of your wrist as he swiftly rose to his feet, his frame towering over yours.

“what you think you’re doing in here, huh? you readin my journal?” his voice was rough and deep with sleep and irritation as he walked you backwards until your legs hit his dresser. you kept your head tilted up at him as you spoke, never breaking eye contact.

“i wanted to come talk to you since you’ve been pretending i don’t exist.” you kept your voice even, clenching your fist in pain as he kept his crushing force on your wrist. a hidden anger seemed to begin to bubble within you.

“this dont seem like talking to me. the way i see it, you’re trying to rob me, rob all of us, and make it outta here a rich woman.” you could smell the alcohol on his breath from earlier as his voice continued to raise.

“search me! i ain’t take shit. i’m sorry i looked through your journal, it was wrong. but really, i did want to talk to you.” your voice comes out in a growl more closer to an animals than human. you hold in your pain as arthur grunts and pats you down rather roughly, hands gliding over your cuts and bruises without a care. when he’s done, he stands up to make eye contact with you again.

“i don’t know if i can trust you, girl.”

“if i wanted, i could’a killed you in your sleep. but i didn’t. i don’t have a single thing on me but the clothes on my back.” arthur runs a hand over his face, stepping back from you and looking down at his journal on the ground. it was still open to the page you were looking at.

“that’s nothin. i wrote that drunk.” your heart crumpled a little as he spoke. what did he mean?

“what? what are you saying?”

“i’m saying, what i wrote there don’t mean nothin! it’s bullshit. if that’s what you came to talk about then you’re- you’re wasting your time. now get out of my tent. now!” you physically flinched as his voice rose with each word. you knew he was obviously very angry with you, and possibly still a little drunk, but it still hurt. it hurt that he wouldn’t give you the time of day, and is now telling you the feelings he had were bullshit.

“so… you drag me all the way here… to tell me what you felt is bullshit.” it came out as more of a statement than a question. your voice was shaking with anger and betrayal, and you could see arthur’s face fall slightly as he realizes what he’s done. fresh tears fall from your eyes as you look at him. his features continue to soften as you hold eye contact with him for a moment. neither of you spoke, a silent exchange was held between you both.

“you won’t see me again.” with that, you turn and exit the tent, ignoring arthur as he called your name. you kept his pistol, and took the spare horse, riding quickly and fiercely from the sleeping camp.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

you don’t know how long you were riding from camp, but it was a while. long enough that you assumed you were somewhere in new hanover. you slowed your horse to a stop in the middle of a large plain, deciding to give her a rest as you hopped off of her gingerly.

the way the grass, as soft as feathers, tickled your skin as you sat down was comforting. the sun had just began to rise, leaving a faint orange hue in the sky and over everything you could see. this is exactly what you needed. peace, silence, no arthur. your heart was threatening to shatter the more and more you thought about what happened a mere hour ago. how dare he? he uprooted your life, dropped you in valentine, and when you came back after him he decides he dosent want you anymore. you knew he was drunk, and angry, and it was wrong of you to snoop through his personal items, but did he mean it? you were conflicted and you needed to get out of your head.

as you laid back fully into the grass, you began to count the faint stars that were beginning to disappear in the sky. they looked like punctured holes in a piece of paper. you didn’t know if you were coming back to camp. we’re you really never going to face arthur again? never to look into his icy blue eyes or feel the comfort the came with his scent? for a while, you let your thoughts drift aimlessly. most of them revolve around arthur and if you were really never going to see him again. the angry half of you said to hell with him. he deserves it, after all that he’s done to you, but the other half of you wanted you to go back, back to his unforgiving presence.

you let the wind roll over you, it was the prefect temperature outside without the harsh sun. you could probably stay like this forever. relishing in the warm comfort of new hanover, and for a while, you closed your eyes and pretended you were back home. home with your mother and father, who would never trade you off to a gunslinger in trade of a paid off debt. when the only care you had was when you’d read your next book. tears unwillingly fell from your eyes, rolling past your temple and dripping into the shell your ear and into the flowy grass. you were so in your head that you didn’t notice the sound of hoof beats approaching until it was too late. your eyes flew open with the speed of light, and you were quick to place a hand on your- well- arthur’s gun. that’s when you realized who it was.

“arthur” you greet him as casually as possible, pretending you didn’t hear the waver in your voice, a threat of more tears to come.

“Y/N,” arthur steps off his horse and stands awkwardly, fiddling with his gun belt. you could practically hear the cogs in his brain as he thought of what to say. you rolled your eyes at the fact that he didn’t think of anything on the ride here.

“look, i’m sorry”

“oh, you are now?” your response was quick and shocked you as it came out of your mouth. arthur frowns, looking off at something in the distance as he continues.

“i’m- i was scared.” he turns his head to make eye contact with you again, and you could tell he was genuine. the way his brows furrowed up into a look of distraught was something you never thought you’d see on his face.

“why? why now are you scared? you took me from my home, treated me like a toy, like i wasn’t human, and i’m still here, for you! and now, now you’re scared? i shoulda known this was a mistake, i’m a damned fool chasing after someone like you.” you stood up swiftly, whistling for your horse and brushing grass off your clothes as you avoided eye contact with him.

“please- don’t. don’t go.” you turned back towards arthur, lips pressed into a flat line as you thought. you could have sworn as you looked at him that there was the glint of a tear in his eye. it was hard for you to hold your anger with the gunslinger.

“i don’t wanna go, arthur. hell, i have no where else TO go thanks to you, but i’d rather be alone than sitting here trying to figure out what’s going on in that damn mind of yours.” during your rant, you had stepped closer to him. you pointed a finger roughly into his chest at the end of your words, and arthur took this as an opportunity to grab your hand gently. the contact effectively stopped you from speaking.

“i don’t want you to have to do that. im, i’m trying to figure out what’s going on in my mind myself for christ sakes,” arthur let’s out a dry laugh. “but what i do know, what im figuring out, is that i need you. when you were taken by those odriscolls it scared the living hell outta me and it, it made me wanna run the opposite direction. i haven’t felt like that in a long time, Y/N. my first instinct was to distance myself from ya. ”

“just because you’re scared dosent mean you have to push me away, arthur. how do you think i feel? i’m scared too! there’s nothing wrong with being scared together.” your fingers interlaced with his, and at this point, there was no going back. you were in too deep. even though you were mad at him mere hours ago, his touch, his words, made it disappear.

“can we try this again?” arthur was looking down at you desperately. you couldn’t say no. something in your gut was screaming at you, screaming that this was the right choice. or was your mind overcome by him? maybe this would be the worst decision of your life. you couldn’t tell. without another word, you leant forwards and pressed your lips against his. you could feel his shoulders relax as you wrapped your arms around his neck. there was a deep hunger that you could sense in him as he practically devoured you in his embrace. his hands were everywhere, his grip tight as he held you like there was no tomorrow.

in between kisses he began to mumble something you at first couldn’t understand. then you realized it was a string of apologies.

“m’ sorry. m’ so sorry. let me try again, please” his voice was nearly smothered by the attack of your lips, but you heard it.

“it’s okay, arthur. s’okay” you attempted your own response which came out about the same as arthur’s.

pain flourished throughout your side, reminding you of its presence as arthur accidentally grabbed it. you let out a quiet gasp of pain, causing arthur to quickly pull away, looking down at you with concern.

“did i hurt you?” his voice was breathy and deep, lips swollen as he spoke near inches from your lips.

“no… no” you spoke in between breaths, your own lips swollen and tingly as well. you moved in for another kiss, this time catching arthur’s bottom lip between yours in the process and biting just enough to draw some blood. arthur winces, pulling away, eyes large. his pupils were blown wide, the icy blue of his irises barely visible.

“what was that for?” he gives you a lopsided, confused smile, to which you return. his blood left a metallic taste on your tongue.

“everything” you shrug, not having much of a better explanation. arthur couldn’t disagree. he wanted to say that he deserved it, but the howl of a wolf in the distance pulled the two of you back to reality.

“shall we?” arthur tilts his head towards the general direction of camp, not eager to be out with the wolves, still prowling the early morning for prey.

“what? scared of wolves? id have thought you were john” you smile innocently as arthur rolls his eyes.

“shut up” he smiles, leaning down to give you one last kiss. before fully pulling away he takes your chin between his fingers and wipes a smudge of blood away from your lip.

“really, i truly am sorry,”

“dont. i know you are arthur. i’m giving you another chance. i don’t need to hear your sorry.” you give him a soft smile, showing you weren’t trying to be hostile when you say this. you both knew arthur had things to make up for and work on, and you were willing to give him another chance.

when you arrived back at camp, you were greeted with smiles and hellos. the feeling you felt inside your chest was indescribable. you felt like they were accepting you and that they were genuinely worried when you left earlier.

you spent the larger half of the day meeting everyone, trying to get to know them. even micah, who you learned only seemed interested in getting in your pants, so you decided to steer clear. you talked with mary-beth about books, planned to learn to hunt with charles, and you practiced your shooting on the outskirts of camp with sadie. you looked up to her immensely and you had to restrain yourself from straight up begging her to let you go on scores with her. she told you with some practice you’d get there. you knew you could put your knowledge from a lifetime on a ranch to use in the gang.

night began to settle again over the camp, and a peaceful silence had fallen over everyone. you’d spent the last half of your day fishing on the bank of flat iron lake a little ways off from camp. pearson had asked you to try your hand at fishing since you have some experience fishing from your father. you think of all the times you went fishing with him at owanjila lake which was right by your ranch. you looked up at the sky, wondering what your parents were doing right now. did they regret what they did? or were they happier without you? you shake away the thoughts with a heavy sigh, deciding to take a break from fishing to sit against a rock by the water. the sound of the water lapping against the sand calmed you in a way nothing else did. you were so in your head that you didn’t hear when arthur walked over to you.

“Y/N”

you nearly jumped out of your skin as you looked up at him. “jesus! you have a habit of sneaking up on me don’t you?” you shake your head as arthur laughs at your scare.

“you need to be more aware of your surroundings is all” he sits next to you on the sand, sighing with content as he leans against the same rock, shoulder brushing yours.

“any luck with the fish?”

“not the best, not the worst. i got enough for a few meals” you hold up the sack full of fish to arthur.

“must be your calling then! you can be the camp fish catcher.” you roll your eyes and bite back a smile as arthur laughs at his own joke. once his laughing stops, a silence settled over the two of you. for a while, the two of you sat quietly, watching as the stars appeared once again in the vast sky.

“hey, what i said in my tent last night, i hope you realize it was a lie. i was half asleep, and drunk, and confused, and i’m gonna regret those words every day of my life. what i wrote about you in my journal is true. it’s all true.”

for a while, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him. you were processing his words, processing everything. even though you knew it was true, hearing him say it was relieving. arthur started to look nervous as he stared into your gaze.

god, you could stare at him forever. the way his hair fell perfectly around his face, no matter how much dirt or sweat or blood is caked into it. the way his brows furrowed ever so slightly when he was deep in thought or writing in his journal. the slight twitch of his lips when he was trying to hold back a laugh. the almost jagged shape of his nose from being broken so many times. you loved every inch of him, every imperfection (though it was utter perfection to you) and every scar that riddled his body. you realized now, you needed him just as much as he needed you.

“i… i understand if you-“

you cut arthur’s sentence short as you leaned forwards a little too aggressively to smash your lips against his. it was all teeth, and the force at which you came at him sent him tumbling backwards. he instinctively grabbed onto you, pulling you with him so you landed on top of his chest. you let out an ‘oof’ as your chest collided with his, and you couldn’t stop the outburst of laughter that escaped from you.

“that’s funny, huh?” arthur began letting out chuckles of his own as a few tears escape your eyes, half because it was funny and half because the pain began gnawing at your side.

“shit… you alright?” arthur places a gentle hand on your wound, his features instantly morph into worry.

“yeah. i think.” you speak between breaths as your laughter died down. you were propped up by your forearms resting on each side of arthur’s head and you looked down at him in awe.

“i’m no good at this” your heart was beating quicker than ever as arthur looks up at you with a large grin on his face. he was taking in your features, just as you were not long ago.

“neither am i” arthur responds, running his hands thoughtfully up your back and to your jaw, where he pulled you in gently this time for a kiss. it was sweet, and you could feel the love behind it as his lips moved in sync with yours. the more time you spend with arthur, the more you realize how well you fit together. it felt like you were unlocking parts of him every moment you spent together. he was changing, you were beginning to see that. you figured he didn’t really have anyone to keep his head on straight, no one to talk to, no one to hold, and neither did you. even through the fighting, and kidnapping, and murdering, you were puzzle pieces.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

i got too excited and furiously revised this so i could get it out. i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! <3

[gennyanydots]

Sorry about your small…

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x f!reader

Part of the Spitfire Universe

Not necessary to have read them all but makes more sense to have read “Preschool Family Day”

“I’m sorry about your small penis, asshole!” You yelled to the vehicle in the turning lane as you finally passed them, completely forgetting your window was open.

You were late. Again. Like normal.

You told your best friend you would meet her at 5 and it’s 5:15 already and you’re still ten ish minutes away.

And the stupid vehicle in front of you was slower than molasses in the winter and clearly did not have the urgency you did.

You try to take some deep breaths to calm down. You’ll get there. It’s not like your best friend isn’t very much aware of your proclivities but you feel bad. So every time you try so hard to make up the time driving. You don’t drive recklessly per se, you’re still cautious and follow the laws vaguely, you just drive a little quicker sometimes.

By the time you get to the restaurant that you were meeting your friend at you completely forget about the car in front of you but maybe you shouldn’t have…

Your work week had turned out to be pretty good. Nothing out of the ordinary made for a nice week. No surprises. No messes. Nobody’s been sick. Plus, the whole week you had been looking forward to Friday, not that you’d admit it.

Eli Seresin told you on Monday that his favorite Uncle Rooster was picking him up early on Friday. You loved it when Uncle Rooster picked him up. Who wouldn’t?

What’s not to like about an attractive, caring man picking up his adopted nephew from preschool early to hangout together and have ‘guy time’? A man that would flirt with you every time he came by while simultaneously being the nicest man you’d ever talked to. He’s definitely had you swooning over him since he first came to the school for special adult day a couple months ago. Pretty consistently Uncle Rooster picks up Eli at least once every two weeks, either at normal pick up time or early for their special Rooster and Eli time. Sometimes you wonder if he’s doing it to be nice or if he’s doing it to see you. You haven’t felt bold enough to ask yet.

Usually if Rooster is picking Eli up early he does so a little before nap time is finished which meant today you had to race out and grab something for lunch and race back so you didn’t miss him. That would ruin your whole week. You didn’t mind spending most of your lunch break in the dark room with your assistant instead of spending time away from the kids, it’s not like you needed it. You loved your class most of the time.

The line at the fast food place you stopped at took a bit longer than you had hoped for and had you speeding back to work with your fingers crossed praying you hadn’t missed Bradley. That would ruin your whole day. And if you’re being honest with yourself probably your whole weekend too.

When you passed the visitor parking area you thought you noticed a car you vaguely recognized but you couldn’t remember why. It wasn’t a normal looking car. You figure it probably was one of your coworkers’ significant other’s car or something who parked there for some reason.

You open the door to the building just in time to see Bradley walking towards you with two armfuls of a sleeping Eli and you smile, “That’s a very sleepy baby you got there.”

Bradley chuckles, “He wasn’t feeling waking up so I figured might as well take him home with me and we can both nap on the couch.”

“That sounds like a great afternoon,” you say holding the door open for Bradley to walk through.

He nods his thanks to you, “Hey, do you think you can open my car door for me? I could do it but I don’t want to jostle him too much. He’s grumpy like his mama when he gets woken up too early.”

You laugh and nod, “I’m grumpy when I get woken up too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bradley says as he walks towards the vehicle you thought you recognized earlier. Huh. Weird. You must have just seen it here before.

He nods towards the right side and you quickly open the door for him and he slides Eli out of his arms and into his car seat, strapping him in carefully and efficiently, before gently closing the door.

“Thanks so much,” Bradley says to you and you nod.

“It was no problem at all,” you say and smile.

Bradley heads to the driver side and opens the door then leans in and starts the car but doesn’t slide into the car yet, instead turning towards you.

You look at the sleeping Eli and wave at him even though you know he’s asleep then walk to stand at the back of Bradley’s car, “Well, I hope you two have a fun time napping.”

Bradley chuckles, “Oh, I’m sure we will. He’ll probably nap for a little and then beg me to go to the beach or something.”

“Sounds like a perfect afternoon.”

Bradley nods, “Yep, then I’ll send him back to his parents and go hang out with some buddies of mine. You should come out with us if you’re not busy.”

“And why should I come out with you, Uncle Rooster?” You ask teasingly.

He grins and takes a few steps towards you and bends close to your ear, “Cause the other day you said something and I’ve been thinking about how I need to prove you wrong ever since.”

You look up at him confused. You can’t remember saying anything odd to him lately, “What did I say?”

Bradley chuckles, “You said I had a small penis and I very much so would love to show you just how wrong you are.”

You gulp and try to think back, “I… I don’t think I said that to you.”

He nods, “You yelled it out your window at me when you passed me. Said ‘Sorry about your small penis, asshole’.”

Shit. Of course the one time you yell something like that it’s at someone you know. That’s why you remember his car. Your face heats up, “I am so, so, so sorry. I didn’t realize that was you.”

He brings a hand up and gently brushes your cheek with the back of his first two fingers, “No worries. In fact I thought it was pretty funny. But I do want you to know that isn’t the case if you’re interested. Can’t have a pretty girl thinking less of me. Not that I’m sure I couldn’t still show you a great time if it was true. It’s not the plane, sweetheart, it’s the pilot.”

You bite your lip and nod, “So, if I was interested where would I go later?”

Rooster smiles and gets out his phone and hands it to you, “Put your number in, honey. I’ll text you the details.”

You do and hand it back then take a couple steps backwards towards the school, “I look forward to being proven wrong.”

Bradley winks at you, “I think you’ll have a good time.” 

[feathernotes]

Kinda a random one, but how much time per day and/or week would you say you spend working on your webcomics? I want to eventually make my own webcomic, but the idea of having to draw 24/7 to make a good comic is honestly pretty intimidating.

Not random at all! I love chatting webcomics! :D Hmm, it really depends on so many factors here. Webcomics can take as much or as little of the day as you'd need- but if we're thinking project longevity and the hopes of finishing such a huge feat, we need to consider some pre-production and project timelines- as well as how to handle scope. Let's break it down: -Figure out the length of your work (even in a general sense) This can help you keep an eye on the size of your project, where to trim and where to add, as well as get a general sense of a timeline for completion. Say you do a comic for 200 pages- once you figure out your general output page wise, you can get a sense of how long it will take to get from point A to point B (with some breaks added of course!) -Understanding Your Process . You need to dive in head first with this one! Start making some pages, don't get hung up on too much at first, and get a general idea of where you spend the most amount/least amount of effort and time. This can help narrow down where you need to focus your time with. (this includes writing/scripting, thumbnails, pencils- etc etc) -Don't compare your output to others! Some people are just really REALLY fast with output, others (like me) are quite slow on that. This is why understanding your own limits and strengths is important (and why it's a good idea to do some practice rounds with making comic pages to see how you feel about it first) -Working in a way that makes YOU happy. if you dont like inking/lineart, get that OUT of your process! you are allowed to have a comic that has pencils, painting, just colours- its all about YOU! One of the biggest 'slayers' of webcomic production is adding a part that the creator hates. Make it fun! Figuring out all of these steps took me a while to do. I am also lucky in that I work as one solid half of a team with @spacerocketbunny. We both write, draw, ink, promote, etc etc in equal amounts- But that also means that I can spend more time on details with the aspects that I enjoy- like inking. As far as the time it takes- I try to keep it a set amount of time a day. When at the day job, Webcomics can get 3-4 hours a day. On days where i am without obligations, i work a 'full work day' on them with 8 hours! I also give myself a 'weekend' off from comics too. Limiting yourself with hours to work on a project is necessary to last throughout the entirety of the project, and to prevent burnout. I've done webcomics for over 15+ years, and Ghost Junk Sickness turns 10 this year (and is on the way to being completed). Understanding your process, output, and scope of the project will create a better roadmap for the time needed to create your comic- and remember- it has to be for YOU the most, in the end. I hope this helps, always willing to chat more! Happy creating!

[bakerstmel]

Fall Favorite Fic Festival, Entry 5

Remember, winter doesn't officially begin until December 21, she said pedantically.

I've delayed writing this entry because I was trying to define the reason (or reasons) why I love this fic so damn much. I read this fic at least twice a year, usually sometime in February and then again in the fall. It's a sports fic, and while I am not in general a sports person, I do love me some baseball. But the sport isn't the reason I love this fic, and I think I may have figured it out. Stick with me.

I started the link at Chapter 2, because Chapter 1 is a guide to baseball for the uninitiated. Some of it is out of date now, because MLB in its STUPIDITY has messed around with the rules this year because GOD FORBID people have to wait longer than a minute for anything to fucking happen on a sports field, and of course only HITS matter, but it is still fun to read. You don't need it to appreciate the fic, though.

Whilst I was processing this fic, I spent some time thinking about sports fics in general, and that led me to reread a couple of other favorites. One was A Study in Winning, by Jupiter_Ash. I really like that fic as well, even though I know next to nothing about tennis. I like the drama of the story, I like Sherlock faking his nationality just because, and I enjoy John being a petty little bitch to Moriarty there at the end. I feel like there for a while everyone had read or was reading that fic. Another one I went back to was Of Ice and Men, by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John, which is an OT3 set during the Winter Olympics. That one has John in the Paralympics, which gives the relationships an entirely new dimension. There are other good sports fics - throw your favorite in the comments, if you like. I'm mostly limiting my scope in these musings to Sherlock, as I've said before, but I'll read anything if it's good. Links to these two fics are below.

One of the ways in which sports fics have an advantage is that they have a built in structure. There's a match, or a tournament, or a season, and the relationship drama plays out against that backdrop. Writing classes always talk about the "ticking clock" approach to narrative tension, and almost every sport has some type of literal ticking clock. The Bang and the Clatter plays out over a full baseball season, including Spring Training and the postseason. That's basically a year minus the main American holidays, and EarlGreyTea does a really good job of letting the story play out at an appropriate pace. That's very impressive considering that she was posting this as a WIP over the course of an actual season.

(I need to take a minute to talk about my issues with EGT, and by "issues" I mean "soul churning jealousy." EGT is ridiculously prolific. If you go back into the fandom annals and look at the timing of some of her biggest fics, she was posting what became major reference points for the fandom in tandem, writing multiple fics at the same damn time, while, you know, teaching law or moving cross country. She is the best example I know of the importance of writing regularly. Of course, she's incredibly gifted, highly skilled at plotting, characterization, pacing, and just words. She has a fabulous imagination. Her dialogue rings true, and it's fun. But she can turn really good stuff out relatively quickly because she's limber AF. She writes. Anyone who comes to Word Sprints on Sundays or just hangs with me writing knows I'm not fast. I'm lucky to break 100 words in 15 minutes. Part of that is that I edit as I go, but it's also that I don't write as often as I would like to, so it takes me some time to warm up. I would like to be more like EGT, which probably sounds kind of creepy. I hope she doesn't see this. Anyway, she's written many of my top 20, and she actually finishes her stuff. So, yeah. Issues.)

So here is where I ended up: this is a good AU that takes advantage of the time crunch of the sport in which it is set, but that is not why I read it 2+ times per year. I read it because this is one of my favorite John and Sherlock relationships ever. It feels so in character for the way we see them in the show (at least through S2; this was written in 2013). We see them meet, we feel their attraction, we feel Sherlock's very authentic confusion. We feel their fear at being caught out, at first by each other and then by the world. They earn their angst. The way to my heart is good characterization, and this has that. Alongside the battery, the OCs (especially Sherlock and John's families) are complex and have issues of their own. Moriarty doesn't show up until the All Star Workout, which is halfway through the season for those of you who don't know, but it works because by that point, John and Sherlock have things to lose. Lestrade is the best effing choice for a beleaguered, exasperated baseball manager there ever was. Mycroft saves the day AND fucks it up, which I wish we'd seen more of in those days.

Also, John and Sherlock never get too far away from each other, and when they're separated, it's usually for narrative reasons. I like that in a fic, I've come to realize. I like to watch the characters' interplay. It's hard for Sherlock to keep secrets from John when they work together, commute together, and live together, and John is no fool. Their office isn't 221b Baker Street, it's a stadium in Austin, TX, where shit plays out in front of 30k people. John loves baseball. Sherlock loves John. They fight, they fall in love, they eat Chinese food, and they play baseball. And best of all, they are themselves together.

If you read the parts that EGT wrote after the big story, there's a mention of Sherlock pulling together a pick up game in London made of American ex-pats for John's sake, and I'll tell you what. That really pulls this fic together for me. This Sherlock would do that for this John, and we end up a little on the outside looking in, and it's just charming as fuck.

In conclusion, read this even if you don't know baseball, if you want great characterization, a chance to be reminded of how beautiful John and Sherlock were together back in the golden age. Pay attention to the ticking clocks in your favorite fics; intentional or not, there's almost always some time pressure ginning up the conflict. If you're a writer, the best way to get better is to write more. Feels like bullshit, but it's true. And finally, fuck MLB forever for going the completely wrong way on the DH. Pitchers in both leagues should have to/get to hit, and more to the point, DHs should have to fucking do something when their teams are out in the field. I will die on this mound.

(Also, if I'm being honest, Bull Durham is probably my favorite movie, so maybe I'm more of a baseball fan than I'm letting on. I do generally love baseball in popular media. But I still think it's the characterization.)

[ratkingssillyboy]

So I’ve been wanting to read the rest of the royal ranger series and figured I’d reread the main series first as it’s been around six years since I first found them, after reading the first book I’m just so glad that it holds up to how fantastic it was the first time and I have ALOT to say.

-The way that Will and Horace grow so much in just the first book, I mean we have Will whose main defence is running and finding a hiding spot but is still witty and a fast thinker to a brave resourceful determined young man. The training my boy is put through is ROUGH but he doesn’t even think of trying to get out of it or wishing he wasn’t a rangers apprentice, we get to see as he matures and simply grows into himself just…the steadiness he has in him by the end of the book, he has a long way to go but we get a glimpse at the man he’ll become.

Horace has an even greater arc, we see him as a simple minded bully (which he absolutely is in those early chapters) but then we see that he’s a natural swordsman who has his own insecurities. We then watch as he’s confronted with the trio of bullies and still unsure of the traditions and usual ways of battle school we see as he soldiers through taking their shit and STILL managing to keep up to a degree, the way that it still affects his school work and social life was perfectly depicted like on harvest day where he lashed out at those he cares about was brilliant but also him not keeping up with school work which when the issue is taken care of becomes much easier for him. But through it all we get to see as he matures, now he isn’t that bully we saw at the start he is a talented loyal friend who is willing to try and take down a boar to keep someone he’s been awful to safe and then witnessing Will do the same for him, making a promise that he soon fulfils regardless of his own injuries

Just watching Will and Horace, these two boys going from school yard enemies to the mature young men who would absolutely die for the other by the end of the book was fantastic, there was no force behind it like it felt so natural and easy once they were able to actually see the other and how far they both had come since the choosing, and it isn’t perfect there’s still tension but they’re friends

- speaking of the boar attack, when Will shoved his face into halts chest and cried? I sobbed as well, absolute puddle of a mess because of course Will would cling to halt after such a terrifying ordeal, and halt just?? Comforting him??? Like the heart attack this man must of had watching his son apprentice facing down a massive boar with a bow and two knives, that hug absolutely healed something in halt John told me so himself.

- I remember originally reading the books at age 12-14 and not comprehending why Will asking so many questions annoyed halt but now at the age of 20? I get it, I finally understand this poor tired middle aged man. Though the absolute dead pan wit this Halt gives Will with each interaction made me wheeze.

- Can I just say, Will meeting Tug? Like he has no idea that he's just met one of his most loyal dedicated companions, just them meeting and growing such a strong bond so quickly I mean the way Will was TERRIFIED when Tug came to his defence during the boat attack and Will could only think of the injuries Tug could get, Tug would not have been Wills horse for long at that point maybe a few months at most and already Will is so attached.

- Gilan, it's wild to think about the fact I'm now around his age? Like he's actually so young????? I just love his dynamic with halt, the respect he shows him while also being the little shit he is is perfect, and the big brotherly way he is around will I just know he's so proud and impressed by this little 15 year old, he absolutely has asked himself if he was ever that silly as halts apprentice (the answer is yes)

-Old bob is a national treasure, I know that man has hit halt on the upside of his head at least once, feel it in my bones

- JUST WILL CHOOSING HALT OVER HIS LIFELONG DREAM I know Halt was holdin tears l just know it, like everyone knew just how much Will wanted to be a knight and yet when offered HE DECLINED because he loves his dad

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 15-13: A Murder (一次謀殺) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Please consider reading Chapter 15-11 before you proceed

I forced my eyes open and wondered if night had come in just a few seconds.

The small room was filled with humanoid figures, their bodies shrouded in a black mist that blocked out all lights from the windows.

I recognized Aunt Chu, who stood closest to us, her shoulders gradually chipped from the rising darkness, her usual bland and gentle expression turning sour.

???: Do you insist on seeking death?

???: Why don't you listen?

???: Bad children, bad children.

The jumble of words sounded like some kind of mantra or incantation, the bodies of the spirits twisting, some hands and feet indistinguishable, some having huge holes in their chests.

They became more and more similar to the those spirits summoned by Jesse.

The scene in the archive room became clear again, and I didn't want nor could I let Jesse fight like that again.

Although their presence here meant that our movements were being watched, I moved two steps closer to Jesse, as close to him as I could get.

You: Tangyuan, let's run first. We don't want to get caught in the crossfire.

Jesse: But I don't think we are at a disadvantage.

He lowered his voice, but his tone was very relaxed.

I turned my head in surprise and confusion, and met a pair of bright eyes that were brighter than ever.

Jesse took out a talisman. It was a jet black color that was different from anything I had ever seen.

You: What is your plan?

Jesse: It's not really a plan. I have a speculation.

You: But--

Jesse: Don't worry, it's not the kind of speculation that involves fighting.

He held my hand and looked at the souls in front of him, and his voice was so clear that it drowned out all the reverie in the room.

Jesse: The "qi" in your bodies is a sign of turning into a resentful soul. Are you all willing to let that happen?

???: Little Taoist priest, you have magic protection, ordinary souls cannot hurt you.

???: Since you refuse to listen to our advice, this is all we can do.

Jesse: Then that's what you should have done yesterday instead of taking that weird shape.

Jesse: I just want to tell you that I have already seen everything hidden in here.

Jesse: If you had wanted to stop me from discovering the hidden things in here, you are too late.

He walked towards the spirits, not moving too fast in the space, but the black figures suddenly seemed hesitant.

Jesse smiled. As if in front of his eyes were not the souls trying to take our lives, but instead many old friends of his.

He walked up to Chu Ying and covered the gap in her shoulder with the piece of black paper, and the two quickly fused together.

Jesse: Aunt Chu, are you feeling better?

It seemed that she could no longer maintain the fierce expression she had earlier. Her face changed, first to one of surprise, then to one of helplessness, and finally to one of resignation. She slowly raised her hand and touched her shoulder.

???: Mommy!

A little girl emerged from the crowd and rushed over to hug her leg lightly. I remembered her face; it was Chu Ying's daughter, Yi Qing.

Although spirits were not able to cry anymore, I somehow still seemed to see a face full of tears on the little girl.

She timidly hid behind her mother, looking at us with only one eye.

Yi Qing: Thank you... both of you.

Aunt Chu: Yi Qing!

Yi Qing: But mommy once told me that we need to thank people who help us.

Jesse: Mm, no need to thank me.

Jesse blinked at them, and without waiting for Aunt Chu's answer, he spread his fingers lightly, holding several identical black talismans between his fingers.

He held them in his palm and turned them into dust. Another gust of wind caused the dust to fall like ink in rain, and the fog in the room gradually dissipated.

After the misty rain, the souls looked at each other in confusion. Unexpectedly, their bodies were no longer mutilated.

Jesse: Any later and it would have been irreversible.

Jesse: All things in the world are between life and death, but those who hold resent or grudges cannot seek life or death.

???: Then can you listen to us and give up the investigation, so that we don't have to be resentful spirits?

???: That's all we ask.

A stubborn voice came through, and a boy leapt high in front of Jesse. Literally so high that the top of his head almost touched the ceiling.

You: Chen Chen?

Chen Chen: It's me.

He dropped down a little and sat on the shoulders of another young soul.

Jesse: In that case, can I make a request?

Chen Chen: What request?

Jesse: Why are we not allowed to investigate? I want to know the reason.

Chen Chen: Didn't we tell you already that we were the ones who killed Sun Taizhong?

???: Chen Chen, it's fine.

This time, it was a slightly authoritative voice. The spirits separated a bit, and an old man came forward. His hair was white, and his face was covered in ravines.

Jesse looked at him with a calm expression.

Jesse: It's you. Long time no see.

Grandpa Lee: What is that supposed to mean? I've only just met you and this young woman yesterday.

Jesse: You didn't look like this yesterday.

Grandpa Lee: So, you recognized me yesterday.

Grandpa Lee: It seems that this Little Taoist Priest's eyesight are no longer what it used to be.

Jesse: I just suspected it.

Jesse: But since you say that, now I'm sure.

The old man was stunned for a moment and then laughed, his voice loud and clear, as if it was coming from his chest.

You: Are you the one from the lab?---

Grandpa Lee: I am the one from the lab. My last name is Lee. Nice to meet you.

The old man held out his hand to me, and not knowing whether I had understood him correctly, I hesitantly extended my hand to shake his.

His back was straight, his eyes looked down, his jaw remained level, and his movements were extremely crisp and clean.

Was this grandpa in the military? As I was thinking about this, it was as if Jesse and I had connected our thoughts and he spoke the answer.

Jesse: He was in the Navy, and he was the first stranded spirit I had ever met.

Jesse: I should have led him to the Realm of Enlightenment, but I realized that he could only resolve his attachment in the human world.

Grandpa Lee: Not bad. Thanks to little Jesse, I was able to resolve the knot in my heart.

Jesse turned to the old man. When he heard "knot in my heart" just now, he seemed to remember something, his demeanor freezing for a moment, then returning back to normal.

Jesse: You looked like you were ready to leave. Why didn't you? What happened?

I've seen Jesse helping souls with attachments, and as he said, some attachments can only be accomplished in this world, while others have to go to the realm of attachments and wait for a few years before they could be liberated.

Jesse said that the soul who stays in the world would consume anger and deplete their energy, resulting in their soul dissolving away.

Grandpa Lee has stayed for at least six years. Chu Ying, Chen Chen have stayed even longer than that. How long could their souls anger last?

He and Jesse had met overseas. Does he have something to do with Yuda Academy? If not, then why is he here?

Doubts continued to grow, and no matter what, I just could not understand. I could only see the smile on the old man's face fade away, his brows becoming cold and hard.

Grandpa Lee: I stayed to punish the murderer, Sun Taizhong. What else could there be?

Jesse: But your grandson is Lee, not Xiao Jia.

Grandpa Lee: There was also a kid named Xiao Jia in the school, and he always had a grandfather who was about the same age as me.

Grandpa Lee: Whether that grandpa was me or not is not important.

Grandpa Lee: Before I left, I read about the French media's exposure of the Yuda Academy.

Grandpa Lee: I heard that besides the person in charge, there were several other murderers on the loose.

Grandpa Lee: I couldn't stand it. I've always acted according to my own temperament, and I didn't want that to change even though I am now a dead man.

Jesse: Then can you tell? From whom did you hear that there was still someone on the loose?

The room suddenly quieted down, all the souls coincidentally stopped whispering, as if the question asked by Jesse was the only bullet in a pile of shell casings.

Jesse picked it up, loaded it into his gun, and broke the shadowed glass.

He looked at the people in front of him, his face almost solemn.

Uncle Xia wrote down the possible locations, Jesse helping the old man, the experiences that Chu Ying and Chen Chen have gone through, they were all kinds of coincidences entangled together--

Jesse: You heard it from my father, didn't you?

I wasn't surprised by the answer, as if it had come out of my own mouth.

Jesse: I want to hear the real reason for why we are not allowed to investigate this case.

Jesse: You have told too many lies and covered up too many things, each of which has to be made up with more lies and cover-ups.

Jesse: That's why I'm always guessing, doubting, never trusting you, and certainly never stopping the investigation.

He looked at each of the spirits as if to recognize them. I could clearly see that some of the spirits moved a little behind their companions and hid their faces.

Jesse: Something to do with Yuda Academy, or something to do with my father; which is the common denominator?

Jesse: Did you guys really want to kill him?

Jesse: If Y/N hadn't heard you crying that day and hadn't stopped me.

Jesse: Were you really going to let those kids go up in smoke for no reason?

His voice was trembling.

I felt a coldness coming from my hand, and lowered my head to see Yi Qing standing between me and Jesse. The soles of her feet were rubbing on the ground, and her fingers looked like they were grabbing my clothes.

Yi Qing: Big brother, don't worry. Chen Chen and I didn't go that day.

After she said those words softly and hurriedly, she immediately hid behind my back when she realized that Jesse had turned his eyes her way.

The old man sighed, and his face, which had always been resolute, softened.

Grandpa Lee: You've guessed correctly.

Jesse smiled at him, which should have been a wry smile, but was a bit forced at the moment.

Jesse: Every time you guys respond, it helps me prove that my suspicions are correct.

Grandpa Lee: Chen Chen was needed in the lab because he was one of the few of us who had experienced Yuda Academy.

Grandpa Lee: The rest of the children had been removed by your father at that time.

Grandpa Lee: As for Yi Qing---

Chu Ying: It's her who can't stay away from me. Ever since that incident, the child has been too afraid of life to set foot on the path of reincarnation.

Chu Ying: She's always been there with me, your father told me. It made me so happy when I died.

Chu Ying: I will take her with me for as long as I can.

Yi Qing nodded at my feet. For her, the sight of the bloody scene in the lab was probably no more terrifying than being separated from her mother.

Jesse: Did my father not forcibly extradite you, or send you to the realm of the dead?

Jesse: But he has always told me that I should do that.

Chu Ying smiled, fading away from her present expression as she looked at Jesse with an infinitely softer gaze.

Chu Ying: Parent's don't always listen to their own advice, and that's normal.

Chu Ying: He may have taught you what he wished he could have done, but did not do.

Jesse pursed his lips. I remembered the last time we met here, he had asked me: do even the closest and most familiar people have a side that we do not understand?

He was asking about his father, and at the time, I was thinking about our relationship, so I missed the opportunity to respond to him properly.

For a long time, Uncle Xia was our childhood imaginary enemy, the big boss in fairy tales, the one who he had to impress.

One day, however, we would see the weakness and vulnerability of this majestic figure, and this breakdown would become an opportunity to heal the relationship.

It's just that for me and Jesse, this day came so late.

Jesse was silent for a long time before reopening his mouth. It was as if he had heard Chu Ying's words too truly, and after a long time, these words still could not fall from his heart.

Jesse: So you guys didn't kill anyone.

Grandpa Lee: We did not kill anyone.

Jesse: You guys didn't want to kill Y/N.

Grandpa Lee: We didn't want to kill her. We felt guilty for making her suffer like that.

His yellow eyes turned to me, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly knitted together.

Even as a soldier, I never raised a weapon against an unarmed man.

You: I could feel that you didn't want to kill me, but I just didn't understand your relationship with Uncle Xia at that time.

Grandpa Lee: Thank you, miss. That makes me feel a lot less guilty.

He took off his hat and gave me a salute.

Jesse: That's great.

Jesse: I don't want the people I helped, or the people he helped. to be the ones who hurt the innocent.

The whispers of Jesse came from his side, as if he were telling a wish that he would make on his birthday when he was still young.

Grandpa Lee: I just want to return the favor, son, whether it's to you or your father.

Grandpa Lee: The others here have the same wish. They have been helped by you, both in life and in death.

The spirits finally stopped retreating and looked at us, and their forms changed a bit. What was once huge is now not so huge, and what was once fuzzy has become clearly humanoid.

As the black shadows separated, I realized that there were not as many spirits in the room as I had imagined, and that the dense crowd was just a visual trap.

You: It turns out that souls can really change shapes.

Grandpa Lee: It just takes time, and it took us five years of trying, but we're finally comfortable enough to change, and thankfully it's not too late.

The "monsters" I saw that night, the faceless spirits in the lab, were the result of a deliberate act. They were repaying Jesse and his father.

No one wanted to hurt us, and we did not hurt anyone. The soul was an old acquaintance of Jesse and Uncle Xia.

For a moment, I was almost immersed in this seemingly happy ending, but there was still something else, a contradiction in their words.

You: Grandpa Lee, but how is stopping the investigation returning a favor to Jesse?

You: Whether it is Uncle Xia or Jesse, isn't the truth what they want the most?

Grandpa Lee glanced at the papers scattered on the floor and the unopened letter made me think that he would have picked it up if he could.

Grandpa Lee: Miss, do you believe that a man can go through life and never waver in his convictions?

You: I... don't know. But it must be hard to do that.

The old man nodded slowly.

Grandpa Lee: That is why our understanding of returning a favor is different.

Grandpa Lee: At least when I met Jesse's father in France six years ago, it wasn't the truth that he was after.

What could it have been? For the truth, Uncle Xia had given up his family life.

I peeked at the side of Jesse's face, and his expression was a little complicated, like he was expecting Grandpa Lee's words, but also like he was afraid to listen to them.

Grandpa Lee: At that time, little Jesse was helping me to solve the problem with my grandson, and I could see that he was disturbed by his relationship with his father.

Grandpa Lee: So I decided to at least see what his father was like before I left.

Grandpa Lee: He saw me, recognized me, and the first thing he said was, "Did Jesse fail?"

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, he's just as tough as you said he was, and a lot tougher than I am.

A smile appeared on Jesse's face and he nodded.

Grandpa Lee: I told him you were doing a great job, and that you're a good, compassionate, sincere kid.

Grandpa Lee: I think he heard me and didn't mention the extradition of my soul.

Grandpa Lee: But he never spoke to me again. It was as if I didn't exist.

Grandpa Lee: In the afternoon, he boarded a plane, flew back from France to Guangqi, and came to the house without stopping anywhere.

Grandpa Lee: After entering the house, he spent the night putting together the model plane.

Grandpa Lee looked up and saw Chen Chen fidgeting with the model hanging from the ceiling, with one wing going up and down, as if it could fly.

Grandpa Lee: I met Chen Chen here, who was always nearby to remind him where to put the parts of the airplane.

Jesse: Well, he's not really good at working on building models. When I was a kid and we would work on models together, I'd be the one to put them together.

Jesse: But I'm glad I was better than him at something, especially when it's rare for him to play with me.

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, he probably felt the same way, that he spent too little time with you.

Grandpa Lee: Those papers you just saw, it was him who put them down here too.

Grandpa Lee: Having done this, he then went to pray in front of the shrine.

Grandpa Lee: He said he had secretly completed everything related to the case.

Grandpa Lee: He and his family would never intervene in this fight again, and asked his ancestors to keep his wife and child safe.

Grandpa Lee: I don't know if the ancestors were listening to him or if they would respond to your father's request.

Grandpa Lee: But Little Jesse, I heard what was said, so I had to take responsibility for those words.

Grandpa Lee: Chen Chen, Chu Ying, and all the people here had the same idea.

Grandpa Lee: We wandered the world looking for a chance to finally do something for you and your father.

As if he had remembered something, a strange blush appeared on his face.

Jesse: Then when my father passed away---!

A look of shame appeared on the faces of the spirits, and the old man opened his mouth as his voice grew hoarse.

Grandpa Lee: At that time we were trapped, and over the years many people have tried to extradite or capture us.

Grandpa Lee: Some of them were so strong that I couldn't escape easily. But in the end, it was my own incompetence.

Grandpa Lee: Little Jesse, I'm sorry.

Grandpa Lee: And your mother, we were there for her, but we couldn't stop her, we couldn't even talk to her.

Jesse stood upright, his back trembling slightly.

Jesse: Don't apologize. It's not your fault. If anything, I'm the one who should apologize.

Jesse: Wandering around the world takes a lot of strength, and you've been holding out for so long---

He hung his head so deeply that no one could see his expression.

Jesse: It's been tough for you guys.

My ears were filled with small sobs. Aunt Chu covered her face, her shoulders shrugged, and I suddenly realized that even if they didn't have tears, the feeling of wanting to cry was still the same.

Like like this moment, I leaned over, my chest bulging with sourness, tears dripping on the floor in dark traces.

When he lifted his head again, Jesse had calmed down a lot.

Jesse: So, you're trying to keep me out of danger by stopping me from pursuing this case over and over again?

Grandpa Lee: We know that if you close this case successfully, you'll be officially inducted into the Lian Shan association.

Grandpa Lee: That is the path that your father, and us, never wanted you to take.

Grandpa Lee: I'm old, but I still have the intuition that it's simply the biggest vortex there is.

Grandpa Lee: Misleading you, hoping you'll come to the wrong judgment, was all we could do.

Grandpa Lee: I just didn't think it would expose our connection to your father.

Jesse: And that's how I got into this room, which had been closed for eight years, and saw the model and the papers, which was a real coincidence.

This means that no one is at fault, but the final step was left to fate. Good or bad, we just had to accept it and wait for the consequences.

Jesse smiled and looked at the spirits. The expression of remorse on the soul's face faded a bit because of his reaction.

Jesse: I haven't read the letter yet. Can I read it now?

Grandpa Lee: Go ahead, kid. But even we do not know what is written in there.

The long, opened envelope was on the table.

The letter paper was slowly pulled out. Dozens of pairs of eyes were tightly fixed on Jesse's hand, but the only sound in the room was the sound of two deliberate breathing sounds in the room.

Jesse: Miss, why are you so nervous?

You: I don't know. It just seems like any thing could happen right now.

Jesse: Mm, yeah.

You: Tangyuan, but no matter what happens, we will always be together.

Jesse: But of course.

The paper unfolds. What will be in it? Is it the important evidence of Yuda Academy, the words of a father to his child, or---

--a blank sheet of paper.

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You can now read Chapter 15-15 here!

If you'd like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[crossover-enthusiast]

HAII LAST PART OF IM NOT YOUR SON IS FINSIHED!!

Skid was dropping off Pump at his house after their walk.

“do you have to head home pump” skid pleaded to pump trying to get him to stay

“Yep. Yes so sad I know,” said pump teasing skid.

“You can ask your grandpa for a sleepover :)” skid was trying one last time to get pump to stay.

“It’s a school night… I know you don’t sleep but I do buddy.”

“I mean we will never know if we can unless we ask!…”

“Bye skid!!” Pump was used to skid being overly clingy.

“BYE!!! SEE YA LATER!!” Skid practically yelled while waving his hand fast.

Skid started to skip home, he for some reason felt calm, even tho he had to say bye to pump. It was like something in the air was hugging him. It felt nice.

*10 minutes later*

“I’m 5 minutes from home mom! Be there soon!” Skids mom called him to check on him.

“Kiddo dinners almost ready we’re having Ropa vieja!!”

“Ok Mr John!!! I’ll be home super soon!”

As skid hanged up, he looked at the sky again. Skid for some reason kept looking at the sky. The stars shined brighter than before. They looked like some big blue eyes looking down on him… Just like his father’s. Skid started to tear up, but didn’t want to cry in public so he tried to stop himself.

*door opening*

“Hi mom! Hi mr John I’m home!!”

“Welcome kiddo!”

“Hi son!- why are your eyes blue?” Lila knew her son didn’t have blue eyes… did he get contacts

“My eyes aren’t blue? Are they?” Skid asked confused, walking towards the bathroom upstairs”

“He could be pulling ya leg Lilac.” John spoke in a joking manner.

“Yea you’re probably right, he sure does love doing that!”

“Blue eyes, I don’t have blue eyes… do I? I mean I rarely look at myself in the mirror… I forgot what color my hair was once. but my mom was confused-“ skid was trying to figure out what his mom meant.

*creak*

Skid tried to open his eyes, but the bathroom lights seemed brighter than usual… odd.

“It’s too bright in here! Did Mr John switch the light bulbs??”

Skid eventually opened his eyes to look in the mirror, blue. His eyes were blue.

His eyes… looked like the stars, the stars they saw when him and pump were 8 and 7. Brighter than the sun even.

Skid stood there puzzled.

“My eyes can’t change… did they change on the walk? Pump didn’t say anything about it…”

The walk from Pump’s house to his was 15 minutes… what happened between those minutes.

“What- how? The only thing I remember from the walk was me jumping over the sidewalk cracks… The stars looked like they were following me… they looked like they knew me. I sound like a fucking psycho. I’m heading to bed.”

THIS ISNT THE END OF MY SERIES. JUST THE END OF THIS FIC

OOOOO

[confessions-sm]

HEYYYY LAST PART OF IM NOT YOUR SON IS FINSIHED

Skid was dropping off Pump at his house after their walk.

“do you have to head home pump” skid pleaded to pump trying to get him to stay

“Yep. Yes so sad I know,” said pump teasing skid.

“You can ask your grandpa for a sleepover :)” skid was trying one last time to get pump to stay.

“It’s a school night… I know you don’t sleep but I do buddy.”

“I mean we will never know if we can unless we ask!…”

“Bye skid!!” Pump was used to skid being overly clingy.

“BYE!!! SEE YA LATER!!” Skid practically yelled while waving his hand fast.

Skid started to skip home, he for some reason felt calm, even tho he had to say bye to pump. It was like something in the air was hugging him. It felt nice.

*10 minutes later*

“I’m 5 minutes from home mom! Be there soon!” Skids mom called him to check on him.

“Kiddo dinners almost ready we’re having Ropa vieja!!”

“Ok Mr John!!! I’ll be home super soon!”

As skid hanged up, he looked at the sky again. Skid for some reason kept looking at the sky. The stars shined brighter than before. They looked like some big blue eyes looking down on him… Just like his father’s. Skid started to tear up, but didn’t want to cry in public so he tried to stop himself.

*door opening*

“Hi mom! Hi mr John I’m home!!”

“Welcome kiddo!”

“Hi son!- why are your eyes blue?” Lila knew her son didn’t have blue eyes… did he get contacts

“My eyes aren’t blue? Are they?” Skid asked confused, walking towards the bathroom upstairs”

“He could be pulling ya leg Lilac.” John spoke in a joking manner.

“Yea you’re probably right, he sure does love doing that!”

“Blue eyes, I don’t have blue eyes… do I? I mean I rarely look at myself in the mirror… I forgot what color my hair was once. but my mom was confused-“ skid was trying to figure out what his mom meant.

*creak*

Skid tried to open his eyes, but the bathroom lights seemed brighter than usual… odd.

“It’s too bright in here! Did Mr John switch the light bulbs??”

Skid eventually opened his eyes to look in the mirror, blue. His eyes were blue.

His eyes… looked like the stars, the stars they saw when him and pump were 8 and 7. Brighter than the sun even.

Skid stood there puzzled.

“My eyes can’t change… did they change on the walk? Pump didn’t say anything about it…”

The walk from Pump’s house to his was 15 minutes… what happened between those minutes.

“What- how? The only thing I remember from the walk was me jumping over the sidewalk cracks… The stars looked like they were following me… they looked like they knew me. I sound like a fucking psycho. I’m heading to bed.”

BTW THIS ISNT THE END OF THE SERIES. JUST THE END OF THIS FIC

👀

[blackjackkent]

Unsurprisingly, the Lower City is crawling with quest markers, and will only get more, I imagine, as we begin to explore and talk to people.

Luckily, our immediate destination is also the closest one - the underworld Guildhall is directly north of our current location, where we intend to pursue information about the Absolutist Stone Lord smugglers and, more importantly, investigate Minsc's whereabouts.

On our way to the Guildhall, we encounter one of the weirder things Hector has yet run into in this city, which is saying something under the circumstances.

"Come to have a go? Give it your best shot."

As Hector walked up, this guy (labeled "Strange Beggar Lumbar") was allowing himself to get beat up by a local citizen; he took three direct hits to the face, then took the man's money and healed himself.

He also appears to be dead.

Narrator: An air of decay hangs over the stooped beggar's form. The smell of rot. The smell of death.

"Gold first," the beggar says pointedly. "Then you can hit me."

It costs 15 gold for the opportunity to beat this guy up for no reason. We have both a [MONK] and [CLERIC] option in the dialogue here, of which the [CLERIC] one seems more interesting to start out. It appears that Selune herself (who, you'll remember, has remained completely silent as far as direct communication while Hector was being beaten up by Absolutist tentacle creatures) has decided that this is finally the moment to take a direct hand in the situation.

[CLERIC][PERCEPTION] The divine tugs at you. Give in, letting your god flow through you.

Narrator: Your divine power focuses on the beggar, revealing the magic that sustains him. This man is a corpse - a zombie.

OK, well, I could have figured that one out without your help, Selune.

(Realistically, I think the intention here is that Hector's divine sense is pinging and not that Selune is directly communicating with him; the writing was just super not clear. Probably better this way, though, because in my writing Hector has had several moments where he has discussed being troubled by the fact that Selune does not directly communicate with him the way Mystra has with Gale or Shar has with Shadowheart, or even Vlaakith has with Lae'zel, and I feel like it would be a shame for this to be the point where that particular character arc climaxes. XD )

Let's try the [MONK] line.

[MONK] "I hit *very* fast. Are you sure you're up to it?"

"S'not a flat fee. You pay per punch, mate. Faster you hit, faster I make coin."

At 15 per punch, given Hector's current open hand build with double main attack plus double flurry of blows from his rogue extra bonus action, we're talking a max of up to 90 gold in six seconds; gotta admit, this guy's running a good gig at that rate.

...Sure, why not. XD The guy seems pretty bummed if we say no, so might as well, I guess.

Hilariously, I gave him the gold, the conversation ended, literally nothing else happened, and then when I went to have Hector punch him, he yelled at me for taking a freebie! LMAO. I gave you my money and I want my punch, boy.

Anyway, very strange business. Hector continues to be baffled by the city.

[letmebehuman16]

Dear Diary.

Amid nightly storms only they can hear, a narrator chronicles a decent into fear and paranoia. Stalked by eerie figures, and strange events that haunt their daily life. What begins as as a personal diary, quickly turns into a disturbing list of events, documentation of the unexplainable.

(this is an ongoing project.)

15/12/2006

I was looking through some of mum's things, the house was in a complete state and there was a lot to look through, but I found something weird. It was stained and ripped, kind of wrinkled but it was a page filled with these odd scribbles in graphite. None of the words made sense and I couldn't read anything on the page, but it showed how bad she got. I mean, just walking into the house I could tell: Bin bags everywhere, mouldy food, the sink was filled with dishes covered in rotten food, the place smelled absolutely foul like someone had died in it, there were flies everywhere… It was heartbreaking. She's been… strange, i've mentioned that many times, but she was always so clean, or as clean as she could be. Hell, maybe I'm remembering things wrong, but seeing the place where I grew up in such disarray, it's unexplainable. 

Apart from those pages and the mess, I couldn't find a reason for all of this and mum is still unresponsive. 

17/12/2006

I saw something last night. Though, I feel my lack of sleep is the reason for it, it’s not something I can even comprehend or begin to explain. 

I can’t describe it either, I’m stuck with the feeling. It’s like waking up from a nightmare you can’t remember. I still feel the fear. 

My mind is probably playing tricks on me, I can’t say I’ve been looking after myself. A colleague pointed out how unkempt I look which was embarrassing. 

I need to start taking care of myself again but it’s so difficult. I feel like I’m losing time, technically I am, the days are shorter, but it feels like everything is random, nothing is structured anymore. I’ve been able to brush off these weird occurrences as natural things, but it’s worrying me now. Why is everything going wrong? 

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5/1/2007

Where do I even begin? 

Christmas with Ruby’s family was nice, they’re very lively and Christmas dinner was amazing. Ruby got me a tattoo kit and I’ve been practising since. She didn’t have to get me anything. I managed to get her some art supplies, a few oil paints, a canvas and some good pencils. She’s like family, and now, she’s the only thing remotely close to that.

Mum died shortly after Christmas, she had a seizure. I’m still trying to process it all, it was so sudden, and unexpected. I’m hoping writing it down would help, but I can’t think of what to say. The funeral was depressing, as all funerals are, but with such little family it felt more like a sad, sparse gathering than a celebration of her life. I was the only one who said anything about her, and while I tried to think of things to say, I was met with a brick wall. I couldn’t remember anything. Only recent events, her fast downward spiral and the words “I’m sorry.” 

Everything since the funeral has been a blur. I continued to work, I kept to my routine afraid of stepping out and getting lost. Most nights have consisted of staring up at the ceiling, hoping that at some point, I’d be able to rest. It’s all futile. 

Everyday is becoming monotonous, and I feel like I’m slipping through the cracks in reality. I’m hearing things, seeing things that aren’t there, I have a constant feeling that something bad is going to happen— and so far, that feeling has been right. So many bad things have happened. Maybe that feeling is my instinct? Maybe I’m just assuming the worst, or simply, maybe I’m just being paranoid. 

I was working late tonight, short staffing had thrown my reduced hours out of the window. I got that feeling again. Waking up from a nightmare I couldn’t remember. Like I had seen something I couldn’t quite grasp, or comprehend.

 After that feeling passed, the shop was a mess, produce all over the floor, broken glass, liquids and sticky jams spilled and an almost artistic chaos. I spent a while trying to tidy up a mess I didn’t even know the cause of. I don’t think anyone would understand the amount of confusion I’m feeling. 

When I left work, it took me a while to snap out of an almost robotic-like state. I was doing everything automatically, or I’d become more aware of how automatic I had been. Maybe this had been happening for far longer than I thought. 

It’s a new year.

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13/1/2007

Things have improved slightly. So far there have been no weird occurrences, and I’ve been able to get a decent night's sleep. I think I’ve just been so exhausted my body is forcing me to sleep. Either way, I’m grateful for it. 

I had an argument with Ruby, we never usually argue, and when we do it gets patched up pretty quickly. She said some really hurtful things, and in the heat of the moment I let myself crack. We haven’t spoken in a few days. I apologised, but she seems almost adamant on having me out of her life now. I think I really messed up. 

I don't know how to fix things between us, and I really don't want to lose her. 

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17/1/2007

It's only been a few days and I already have so much to cover. I've decided to move. Moving to a different part of the country would be easier, however, too much has happened around me. I don't feel safe here anymore. 

If I moved to a different country, surely whatever has been following me for the past few months would give up. Maybe it's a rash decision, and I should think about this more, but rationality aside, I want to be unknown. I want to start fresh and there's nothing keeping me here anymore. 

I can't explain the recent event that made me seriously consider this possibility, I don't even want to think about it. I just need to start fresh, give myself some sort of stability, and peace. 

I haven't heard anything from Ruby. I don't know what I'm expecting, a heartfelt apology? I tried to visit her place and she either wasn't in, or is ignoring me completely. Either way, her message has been received. She clearly wants to stick by her word this time. 

The strangest thing is, I don't know what caused this. I know I’ve been difficult to be around, and maybe I haven't tried to make an effort like I used to, but surely they're all reasonable excuses. Ok-- maybe I’ve shut her out slightly, but would you blame me? I don't want to drag her into whatever mess I've found myself in. The last thing I want is for her to end up the same way. She's struggled enough. 

During the argument, she wasn’t herself. Usually she's so sarcastic and lighthearted, but it was almost as if she couldn't stand to see me, like my presence brought her physical harm.

For once I am truly alone. It's terrifying. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. 

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10/2/2007

If this diary is found I'm sure you've been reading the entries written above and below. I'm terrified for my life.Please hand this journal to local authorities if found.

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10/2/2007

I handed my notice into work today. I think it's safe to say that my boss wasn't too happy, but it's not my problem anymore. I'm just glad to never have to set foot in that shop again. 

In regards to moving, I have settled on a small town in the US, the area is kind of rough, but rent is cheap enough and even though it's small, it's compact, people nearby, buildings closer together which would give me some sense of security at least. The least of my worries involve people at the moment. 

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15/2/2007

This was posted through my letterbox today. Some of the symptoms are familiar, and it further solidified my decision to move. I'm hoping to get away from all of this stuff. I've stuck it in here to keep it safe, it could be useful.

What's confusing me is who would post this? Who would even have access to this information and why? Why would someone do this to me?