#im so excited it needs to stew for a few more hours

[gorgynei]

not a huge fan of turkey by itself for thanksgiving but dude. using the leftover meat and bones to make a phenominal gumbo and broth. i could eat that every singl e day

[silver-embersss]

Broken Horns and Broken Hearts Chapter 8

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Tubbo had collapsed into bed only a few moments before, but the next the boy knew, he was sitting in yet another meeting, with the rest of the cabinet casting him slightly strange looks as they argued.

He internally panicked, scouring his brain for any memories of getting up, or even walking to the meeting - but there was nothing. A quick check of his timetable confirmed that he’d only lost a few hours this time, instead of two whole days, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. Where were these sudden gaps in his memory coming from? And why was Quackity staring at him like he’d grown a second head? He shook it off as nothing, perhaps their confrontation last night.

The meeting was followed by another speech, where Schlatt announced a festival to be held in a week, the organising of which was probably going to be delegated to Tubbo on top of the rest. The teen scanned the cityline in boredom, and he was pleasantly surprised to see Wilbur duck behind a parapet. Thankfully, the ex-president couldn’t see him - specifically his horns - from where he stood next to Quackity, but he took a small step back anyway to make sure. Remembering the conversation he had with Tommy yesterday, Tubbo made a mental note to write down the ambush plans they’d discussed earlier and deliver it to the hidden chest.

The gaps in his memory became more frequent as the festival drew near, but Tubbo somehow managed to keep his act together, ignoring the strange looks he got as his horns grew and his patience diminished. The teen also ignored the way his friends talked about him behind his back, denouncing him just because of Schlatt. He simply pretended not to hear the hurt remarks about his grumpiness.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tommy slashed wildly with a stone blade, shards of granite screeching off the wall, and he heard Techno chuckle condescendingly from behind. The teen spun around in irritated tiredness to snap at his older brother.

“At least I’m preparing and not just farming fuckin’ potatoes for three hours straight, dipshit!”

The mocking smile on Techno’s face widened.

“The thing is, Tommy, I don’t need the training - you clearly do.”

“Oh, shut up. Stupid pig bastard.”

Tommy glanced worriedly upwards towards the ravine entrance, where Wilbur stood, currently fucking up his sleep schedule even more. The pig followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, silently judging his hypocrisy, but Tommy ignored the hint and went back to attempting to massacre the granite wall. L’Mandog could look after Wilbur. They had a war to fight, and if The Blade was going to slack off, well. Then it was down to Tommy to carry their rebellion, wasn’t it?

3 bites of a baked potato later, Techno was back in his farm, both him and Tommy trying their best to pretend each other didn’t exist.

Strangely, it didn’t work.

Eventually, Tommy gave the wall a break and swapped his stone sword out for iron, strapping the bare blade to his hip.

“I’m gonna go check the notebook chest!”

The teen called to Techno, trying not to disturb Wilbur in his moonstruck reverie as he left. Despite his efforts, Tommy felt his brother’s eyes on his back as he crept through the undergrowth.

A few hasty ducks and desperate, pleading headshakes at Niki later, the teen made it to the hillside underneath the prime path that hid the chest. For a split second, he thought he saw a flash of black - Tubbo, maybe? - dash around the corner, but it was gone before he could call out to whoever it was.

A quick glance in ‘the mailbox’ (as Techno called it) revealed the notebook they'd been writing correspondences in, but thrown hastily down on its front, bending the spine. The messy placement was at odds with how it normally lay when it was Tubbo’s turn, but the teen didn’t think much of it other than a muttered curse at the dictator who was keeping his best friend busy doing everything that Schlatt should have been doing.

Tommy skimmed through the rushed explanation of the festival’s weaknesses and snapped a picture of the map Tubbo had painstakingly sketched of the proposed layout. They’d agreed not to use names in the book in case one of them was caught with it, so Tommy just scribbled ‘Thx bitch, hang in there’ on the next page and replaced the book.

For a moment, he entertained the crazy idea of abducting Tubbo so he wouldn’t have to deal with the drunken tyrant, but the thought was soon brushed off due to its impossible nature. Plus, who would be their spy then? Will tried to get in contact with Fundy, but was left on read - the fox was still seemingly bitter about losing the election, even if he did cheat.

After a wistful glance at the half-broken walls, Tommy shoved his communicator back in his pocket, took a step back and fell into a creeper hole.

“Fuck!”

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It wasn’t long until Tommy came back from the mailbox, but it was 11:30 at night, so Techno once again tried to convince Wilbur to come into the relatively warmer Pogtopia. The ex-president was mumbling a steady stream of nonsense (which was slightly concerning, to say the least) but it wasn’t exactly a strange occurrence.

“Wilbur? Will?”

No response.

“I’ll make you stew if you come in.”

Food usually got the attention of his siblings, especially Tommy, but still Wilbur ignored him. With a sigh, Techno gave up and went back to his farm, giving L’Mandog a pat on the head as he turned away. It wasn’t the best result, but at least he tried, right?

Casting his memory back, the piglin couldn’t remember Tommy eating that day either, so he pulled a cauldron on top of the campfire anyway, letting the water boil while he rummaged in the chests for some steak. Cutting the meat into small cubes, he threw it into the pot alongside some salt and half a clove of chopped garlic. While the pot simmered, Techno sat cross-legged on the ground next to it and got to peeling and chopping some of the potatoes he’d farmed, throwing the peel in a nearby bucket. It didn’t take long for Tommy to come barreling down the narrow stairs, an ecstatic look on his face as he sniffed the air.

“It’ll be ready in a bit.” Techno grunted at him, ignoring his excited yell.

“Do me a favour and get Wilbur.”

The teen raised an eyebrow at him.

“Bet you already tried.”

The piglin glared at him, and Tommy raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay okay, I’m going!”

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The festival date was set. Planning was under way. All the information had been leaked to the rebels - and yet Tubbo couldn’t help but feel he was missing something important. The feeling was so urgent, he’d checked off lists a million times and gone over everything with Quackity a million-and-one, and it still hadn’t gone away. That, combined with the memory gaps, bleeding horns, and the alcoholic president, weighed on him more heavily than he’d admit. Sleep was a rare luxury, not a necessity. Fundy took every opportunity he had to glare menacingly at him, and even the recently-released Niki kept her distance. It hurt, to be so isolated from these people he’d fought beside for months, but there was no time for moping. There was barely even time for breathing.

“Tubbo! Get me a coffee!”

“Yes, Mr. Schlatt!”

As he sped down the hall, clipboard and a stack of papers in hand, Quackity called him from outside. He set the papers down on the hallway table and stuck his head out the door.

“What?!”

Big Q motioned towards the square, where a large hole sat in the centre of the seating.

“A creeper blew up the square, can you fix it?”

“Yeah, just-” “TUBBO! COFFEE!”

The teen bit his lip and gestured awkwardly over his shoulder.

“I gotta go-”

Without waiting for a response, he dashed back to the small break area where the coffee maker was kept. He set it going before rushing to collect the stack of forms left on the table. While the coffee brewed, he read through as many as he could. This was the usual routine - multitasking, never taking more than a second’s break, trying to stay on Schlatt’s good side - and he’d gotten used to it. As Tubbo grabbed a stack of cobble from his chest, a message buzzed through his communicator. Cobble in one hand, communicator in the other, he typed a reply in snatches, mostly looking forward as he hurried towards the creeper hole.

TommyInnit whispered to you: Tubso

You whispered to TommyInnit: What?

TommyInnit whispered to you: I need you

He sighed angrily.

You whispered to TommyInnit: tf do you want???? m busy!!!!!

TommyInnit whispered to you: is schlatt being a dick again? We need more info on the festical

You whispered to TommyInnit: well im actually doing stuf unlike some ppl!!!!! TommyInnit whispered to you: ???? u good?

You whispered to TommyInnit: lok i dont have the time!! get yor own fuckin informton!

Another message pinged through but Tubbo ignored it, shoving the little black box back in his pocket and continuing with his tasks. The next thing he knew, it was the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window of his room. A slight jolt of nausea accompanied the sudden change in his surroundings, but the teen shrugged it off. It was routine, after all. It was a struggle to pull his pyjama top over his head, as his horns grew bigger every day. Surely they’ll stop growing at some point. The sharp points protruded about a centimetre past his chin, and were a lot thicker than before. Succumbing to his exhaustion, Tubbo let out an ear-shattering yawn and fell into bed, digging his nails into the itchy skin around the base of the horns. A jolt of pain made him yelp, and something warm trickled down his hand.

Blood.

Note to self: Invest in bandages for these things!

[iam-kenough]

Will  you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them.

Authors notes: It’s second chapter and you can find the rest of chapter on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction.

Word count: 2978 Chapter 2

It was next day's evening when they landed on new camp's place. Everyone started arranging their tents and some of them decided to go to the lake and bath after long trip.

- The water is so damn cold! But it was nice to take a bath after all those hours- Iris was talking to Mary-Beth and her teeth were chattering. She decided to wear woolen dress Mary gave to her, not being even slightly suspicious why Iris would wear a dress so badly. It was nice, wine red and warm one. She decided to tweeze her brows a little bit and she brushed her long, black hair putting them in loose bun. Even though she will undress and wear only chemise in her bed in less than 3 hours.

Iris looked around and sighed. All good places for a tent were taken and she couldn't sleep with girls in their tent 'cause it was too small. She had to prepare her own but there was only one way left to do that.

- Knock, knock - she said awkwardly, knocking on one of polls holding Arthur's tent. He was on his coot, drawing something in his journal. It catched her attention. Didn't know he's romantic soul who would sketch while sulking like this.

- How can I help ya? - he closed the book and looked at her shyly. He analysed her posture in new clothes but very quickly so it wouldn't scare her or make her uncomfortable. Girls usually didn't like his sight on them.

- Will it bother you if I will place my tent right next to yours? All good spots were taken when I took a bath - her cheeks flushed a little bit. She even tried to flirt with him and bat her eyes, while she squeezed fabric of her dress.

- It's rather if I won't bother you, kid.

If I could I would devour you right here, Mr Morgan and you would be the only person not bothering me. I would undress you from your bright blue shirt which matches your eyes so good and I would let you pop my cherry...

- You'right out there, kid? Asked ya if I won't bother you.

- N-no, never. Thank you, Mr Morgan - she jumped into the air and disappeared to set her tent. It was mirroring his and when she was looking above her trunk she could see him, deeply in his thoughts. Honestly, if they would rearrange it a little bit more they would have big, shared tent with two beds next to eachother. But she they wasn't close enough for Iris to ask for it even if she wouldn't mind.

Later that night they had supper prepared by her and Mr Pearson. Almost everyone was eating together but she noticed Arthur hidden in his spot. She went to her tent and sat on the coot mirroring his position.

- I hope it tastes good? - Iris asked after few minutes. He raised her eyes surprised at her.

- You eatin' with my poor companion? I see everyone gathering around the fire.

- They're all nice and stuff but I like to eat in peace. You're not bad to be with, Mr Morgan.

It sounded a little bit frivolous and she actually liked it, surprised with her own temper.

He blushed. Or rather tips of his ears did.

- It's just surprising 'cause yall girls are always eating together. And yes, this stew is amazing - he liked his fingers and brushed his dirty mouth with his sleeve.

Normally she would jerk away on this kind of behaviour but she giggled at sight of big man eating messy like that.

- Girls are okay, especially Tilly and Mary, but Karen has...a little bit to intense character. Oh, and Dutch's girlfriend. That lady hates me.

- She hates everybody, dont'cha worry.

- Today she hit Dutch with a book, saying he's throwing me looks - Iris was giggling and she brushed loose hair behind her ear.

- Looks, ya say? Oh don't worry, you just new, that's why he does that, kid.

- She's rather young too, you know. It's just the make-up she uses, makes her look older.

- Ya say? Nah, you still look like kid to me. With all those freckles and you being thin. Not so sure you should go with us to rob that train, I will have to watch you all the time - his voice was low and he chuckled.

Ouch, that was bad! So he doesn't like freckles...It's nothing I can do about it. But maybe if I'm gonna eat more I'll stop being thin, get some bust maybe and then-

- You sure you want to sit here with me? You seemed bored with my old feller talkin'.

- I-I am not bored at all. Can you show me what are you drawing?

He brushed his chin, sign of him being shy and he passed her the journal. On two pages he drew their whole new camp.

- I must say you can draw, Mr Morgan. You've got talent - she passed the journal back and their hands brushed against each other. She blushed again.

- Talent that's useless for sure - his voice was low and nice and he almost sounded like purring cat. Iris felt knot tying up in her stomach.

- It's not, it's not! - she shaked her head - I find it really pretty. You could draw something for me one day - it was supposed to be flirt and she bit her lower lip but he didn't notice that. He just cheered up.

- What you like, then? I can draw it for you - he patted her arm in friendly manner. They were so close right now, their faces next to each other. She could smell him.

What do I like? Your lips, your intriguing eyes, the fact that your hair was so messy and the fact you smell like whiskey, cigarettes and sweat.

- Flowers - she said plainly, looking at her feet - Any flowers are good. Or animals. I saw you sketching deer one day.

- I've been hit on my head a lot so if I would forget remind me of it, kid - she looked at him once again and licked her lower lip, becoming red on her cheeks. He started looking at her quizzically.

- I think you catched a cold, kid, you seem burning up. Better go to sleep, tomorrow's a day too.

Knot in her stomach popped and she lowered her head. Kid, you say. Im gonna show you, one day I will gain weight, have some reall boobs and nice mature dresses and you will look at me the right way. She got up a little bit too quick, tears forming in corner of her eyes but he was facing her back almost immediately and he didn't see.

- Y-you right, I don't feel my best - she answered with shaking voice and she rubbed her eyes - I'm...gonna get some rest. Goodnight, Mr Morgan.

- Uh-, yea, good night - he read her bad, he was sure she's sick but she seemed rather irritated by the fact he noticed? I will apologize tomorrow.

She put on the curtain between the halves of tent which was giving them privacy now and she sighed. At first she looked in small mirror she owned and analised her own face. You ugly, Iris.

Girl looked at herself quizzically. Big, green eyes with long lashes and nice, pink lips but then freckles happened, covering her nose and cheeks. Her hair were jet black but wavy instead of sleek locks of other girls around. Iris started undressing herself and she looked at her figure with disgust. She had round hips and long legs, but that's it. She looked thin and had small breast and that was not what men would look at. It's not what he would look at.

When she put on her night gown and layed down she looking at tents ceiling and thinking. Oil lamp in Arthur's half stopped giving light, he was going to sleep. She heard him getting comfortable on his bed and after few minutes he was breathing heavily.

She drifted away in her sleep, thinking how it would be to cuddle his big frame.

Another few weeks passed and in this time Iris tried her best to prove she's mature and strong but also femine at the same time. It was difficult to kill a man at 4 and then acting like a subtle lady few hours later. It was nice, warm evening and girls decided to go swimming after long day of work. Iris was so happy and relaxed as she and Mary - Beth was looking at red sky and Tilly with Karen was fooling around in water.

- Can I tell you a secret? You will like it - Iris whispered. Mary seemed excited immediately.

- Tell me, tell me! - she giggled

- I fell in love - Iris whispered to her ear and her friend become red from blushing.

-No way! Who, who is he? Or maybe she? - Blond girl tickled brunette a little bit.

- It's him, yes. But I wouldn't mind you...- they purred at each other and then burst into laugh.

- Who? I bet it's John, all girls are sweet on him and Abigail hates us for that.

-Nope!

- Bill!

-No!

- New O'Driscolls boy!

- Ew!

- Then who, Dutch?

- You must be crazy! I mean...he's not bad if you think about him but this red-head witch he's with? I have no chances - Iris was laughing so badly.

- You have to tell me! But then it has to be someone from outside the camp...

-No! He's there, Mary-Beth, please don't make me say his name out loud.

And then Mary became pale. Then red again. Then she got up.

-No! From all of them you choosed Arthur Morgan?!

- Shhh! We are too close to the camp!

- But why?! He's sweet but we have never seen him with woman, you know. I think he's a little bit weird about it. Dutch once laughed at him taking a bath with a dog when camp had one.

- W-Well...he seems a little awkward and he's like wild animal more than a man but he's charming and he always complemented food I make and he always talks to me in the evening.

- At least he talks to you, he usually doesn't. To no one.

- That's my problem, he talks to me but he seemes to see me as a kid. I tried everything! Few days ago I was sitting with him and we was both reading a book and I looked at him so nicely, I tried my best to look at him with hazy, flirting eyes. And he asked me if I needed glasses because I blink a lot.

- Well...I don't know how to help you - Mary said as they were walking towards camp - usually it's easy, a little bit of exposed skin and being close. You should try it.

- I should...I should go to his tent dressing my nightgown for example?

- Oh, that's an idea! I saw it and it's really cute and...hot.

-Mary- Beth, are you hitting on me? - she joked as they was passing Hosea's tent. Girls heard him talking with Arthur and they would ignore but they heard Iris's name. They started listening immediately, hiding behind the tent to eaves dropping.

- And this new girl, Iris's her name - Hosea said.

- What's with her?

- Just wanted to know what you think about her - he seemed to tease Arthur a little bit.

- It's good kid, she seems to like my company. And honestly, I like hers, she doesn't talk that much comparing to any of you fools - he cleared his throat.

- I thought that you are much closer. Basically sharing a tent and talking every evening...

- What d'ya say, Hosea?

- How long have been since you had a woman, Arthur?

- Not long enough to think about it again- his voice became angry in the nick of time - it's kid we talking about, don't get the wrong idea.

Iris inhaled sharply and bit her lower lip, while her eyes became glossy. But she listened, she couldn't stop.

- Isn't it obvious, Arthur? She looks at you very odd way and she enjoys your company a lot, lot more than others.

- I didn't notice. By the way, she's not stupid. I'm much older and I have past, just no way I would be with her. She doesn't love me to start with. One day she will leave the camp to have a normal life.

Sound of tears dropping on Iris's dress was the only sound she was making. She got up quickly and in a blink of an eye disappeared, running into the woods.

- Iris?! - Mary- Beth tried to follow her but she tripped over one of tent's strings. She sweared ugly.

This is bad, so bad - was all Iris was thinking. Her breathing heavy, her eyes red. She stopped in the middle of nowhere, just when she was sure all around her was dark forest. She didn't even know why she was so agry. Maybe because he said out loud things I thought about myself? Maybe because she was sure that his ears getting red were sign of him considering her as someone hot?

But look at yourself, c'mon. When father lived, he always told you you gonna become a maid, because no man would touch something so fragile, that looks constantly sick. He was right, oh so badly right. And now Iris had to apologise to Mary-Beth for leaving her like that.It was dark night when she got back to the camp, everyone sleeping in their tents. Only one oil lamp was glowing. She decided to act like nothing happen, just not to lose his friendship, ever. So she took a deep breath and peaked her head inside his part of tent.

- Just wanted to say good night, Mr Morgan - was all she said, smiling faintly.

- Kid! You weren't there for supper. Did something happened?

- N-no...just small fight with girls - she lied without hesitation. Then smiled a little bit more so he won't be suspicious. He always was but he was taking her lies as an answer, 'cause she lied when it would expose her feelings.

- Small fight made you disappear without word? Y'got hot head then - he joked. His blue eyes were piercing her.

- Maybe a little - he didn't see nothing good about her anyway, she could become hothead in his eyes even it was inappropriate for woman.

- Wanna talk about it?

- With you? I-I mean we can but it's nothing. Really.

- You seem sad lately, kid. Is someone or something bothering you?

- Ah...no, just stupid, girly things.

- Girly things - he seemed a little bit scared now.

- Interests of heart, to call it. Nothing too exciting, especially for you.

He became silent. So she wasn't considering him as a close friend if she didn't want to tell. He thought different for a second but...she was right, he was no friend.

- Were you ever in love, Mr Morgan? - he heard her voice from behind one of trunks. She probably lied on her bed.

- F'course I was. But if you askin' me 'bout those things ya need to share with me first, ya know? What are those Interests of heart, huh?

She took deep breath. After few seconds she knew how to tell it without being obvious.

- I just fell in love with someone who will never accept me. He's good friend and that's only reason I didn't tell him yet. But I know....I heard what's he talking about me, no need to share my feelings with him, because he considers me strongly as a friend, nothing more. It would make our relationship awkward.

He furrowed his brows. So she was seeing someone. He wondered who.

- That sounds a lil' bit bad, kiddo. Maybe I don't look like but I know how to have a broken heart - he said as his eyes become glossy. She couldn't see them anyway, so he didn't hold back thinking about Mary right now - But if it's your friend he shouldn't judge ya, ya know. Even if he doesn't share feelings with you. You sure, he does not?

- One hundred percent sure - she said that very slowly because those words left bitter on her tongue - and I'm not afraid of being judged, I just know it would destroy our friendship.

- He's no friend then - Arthur replied shortly. He felt like dumbass but if she liked talking to him about all of this he felt appreciated.

Iris took deep breath. You are a friend. The closest one I have now after those weeks that passed. And I will cherish you forever, even if your lack of knowledge will hurt me sometimes.

- He is. About this I'm sure. I really love this person. Thank you, Mr Morgan for listening to me - it sounded like she thanked him for listening but she was actually thanking him for everything.

It seemed like yesterday when they rescued her but it wasn't. Many days passed and she already shared with him many thoughts but also many jobs, even dangerous one. They robbed trains together after all. They was murdering together. And every evening they were lying in their beds and talking. They usually looked at their tent's ceiling but she didn't mind. He seemed so sad and distanced, always worried. She also noticed his extremely low self-esteem, he always was talking that he's not good man and that he's stupid on account being hit on the head to often.

She had fallen asleep to those thoughts.

[dojaeism-archived]

Hello, hope you've been well! I've been very busy recently with a lot of things and it's been giving me headaches but other than that I've been pretty good! Ah, it seems more interesting than Psych alone because of how broad it is... I hope you don't hate doing it though, subjects get really tough if one doesn't enjoy them or detests them (the only reason I hated Physics; my teacher didn't do a good job at explaining it and I learnt everything by myself after school) - ❄️

im writing more for these asks than some of my assignments lmfaoo 😭😭

I'm good at Math and anything related to it, but for some reason I could never understand anything other than the formulas and problems in Physics hence why I went for Psychology only instead of Psychiatry... Oh, I'm sure once I reveal myself you can find a few things I've made; there were quite a lot but I got rid of my art sideblog because it was too time-consuming and kind of cleared my main a few months ago so there's like only 2-3 here, but there's some on my other sideblogs as well! - ❄️

I used to only make breakfast items or pasta before but now I learnt how to cook almost everything -once again courtesy of quarantine Lol- and I enjoy making any kind of dessert; but Cheesecake and Tiramisu are my favourite, along with Quiche! Among things on stove, I quite enjoy making dumplings and stews ^^ I've been okay-ish in the kitchen since I was little, but my sisters? A fire in the microwave, oil splashed all over the stove and the only thing they're decent at is fries + ramen - ❄️

but I think they'll learn as time passes! Ah, I don't gif exo that much; I think there might've been a couple sets before I cleared my blog but I gif 2 other groups mostly... there's this multi blog I need to post more on but since I've been busy I've barely had time to post there T^T that's where my nct and exo sets will go (if I ever get to making them) I took part in this event for the purpose to have an exo-l as a friend too; since I gif those I have friends in the fandom of the most - ❄️

Ça bien; je suis sur le point de le terminer bientôt et j'aurai un examen~ Non, ton Français va bien! It starts in November or mid-November I think, not too sure since it keeps getting delayed :( II used to only play Tomb Raider or The Uncharted; maybe a little NFS if I'm up for it haha so I get you... My friend plays Genshin so that's where I know of it from, she forced me to sit down and have a go but I lost interest too quick XD - ❄️

omg my dad always drinks tea! I don't think I've ever seen him sitting down without a cup right next to him; rare to catch him having water unless it's midnight Lol Ah, thank you :D things have been pretty okay but I guess once college starts it'll get more hectic than it already is. Take care! - ❄️

hellooo im glad to hear that you’ve been keeping busy but please don’t let that get in the way of you taking care of yourself!! but don’t worry, i definitely enjoy it!! its just that sometimes there’s that lingering question of “would it have been better if id done something else” ya know… but its all good! it sucks when teachers don’t do their job properly and end up causing students to lose interest in their subjects 😭

ohh omg im so excited to find out who you are now lmfaooo i cant wait aaaaaaa but how many sideblogs do you run??? it sounds like you have quite a few :0

its great that you’ve managed to get something out of this quarantine!!! i cooked a lot at the beginning too but now im just like.. eh….. i loveeee tiramisu but im not really a fan of cheesecake lol its too… (idk what the word is but like thick? like it gets sickening after u eat it too much LOL) but ive never had quiche :0 or stew actually HAHAHA omg but dumplings!!!! im obsessed with themkjjgfnklfg but i totally relate to ur sisters, when i was younger i wasn’t allowed in the kitchen when the adults were cooking cos they were worried id set something on fire lmfao but speaking from experience, they’ll definitely learn as they get older!

ohh its interesting that you don’t gif exo all that much, i don’t either even if they’re my ult group which is a lil funny except me thinks but oh well!! its cool that you joined this event to make friends tho, and i look forward to getting to know you better and us becoming closer friends hehehe what other groups do you gif for then?

CRYING BC idk why i didn’t expect the french reply when i started it 😭 but anyways bonne chance pour ton examen!! j'espère que ça va bien ~

ohh omg tomb raider and uncharted 🥺 reminds me of when i was younger and all my friends would play them hahah but tbh idek why im so obsessed with genshin, i literally played for like 14 hours straight over the weekend which is crazy since usually i absolutely have no interest in games at all 😭😭😭

good luck for college, make sure to rest well now especially since things are gonna get a lot busier!!!! take care 💗

[littlebitoffanfic]

Silent Confessions part 2

Fandom: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Characters: Bubba, Drayton Relationship: Bubba/reader Request: Would you write a part two for the silent confession where the reader gets found by drayton AN: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/175620949144/silent-confession You woke with a loud clatter as a voice screamed in anger only a few feet in front of you. “Hes kept un! God-damn it, I’ll kill ‘im.” You sat bolt up right in your bed, your eyes immediately finding the source of the noise and your blood ran cold. Drayton. He was pacing the floor in front of you, his hands on his hips as he almost let off steam from his anger. You had seen him briefly through some holes in the walls when he had come into the basement to speak to Bubba so you knew what he looked like. When he saw you sit up, he froze. “God-damn it.” He cursed again. You had been caught. Nearly a year you had stayed hidden down here, but he had finally caught Bubba and you. But Bubba wasn’t here right now. He and Chop Top had had stuff to do, so he had left first thing. You had been tired so stayed in your bed until you were rudely awakened. “and he didn’t even tie her down!” he snarled as he saw your free wrists and ankles. “He doesn’t have to. I wont run.” You said in a soft voice, taking Dayton by surprise. He twisted to look at you. You knew you had to be incredibly carful right now. If you were able to say the right things and do the right things, you might be able to keep yourself alive as well as save Bubba from punishment. “Oh yeah? You wont run?” Drayton scolded at you, mimicking your voice a little. “No, I don’t want to.” You keep yourself calm, knowing that any hint of weakness might be a loophole for Drayton to exploited. “eh?” He stopped pacing to look back at you. “Ive been here for a while. If I wanted to run, I would have. But I don’t.” You explain a little more. “How did yah get here, then?” He was carful and kept a little distance between the two of you. You knew he didn’t do any of the killing, so probably wouldn’t do anything to you until the twins got back. So you had a little time to persuade him. you told him of how you had been kidnapped and held hostage. About how you didn’t have a family so the ransom they asked for was never paid. About how they beat you and then brought you out here to be killed. But Bubba had saved you. You were very carful to say that Bubba had been carful at first and had kept you in ropes, but you never ran so they became forgotten. During your tale, Drayton retreated away from your bed to sit on the chair in the corner, watching you carefully for any signs of deception. “So how long have you been down here?” He finally asks when he sensed your story was coming to a close. “About a year.” You knew it was dangerous and leaving it to chance about how he would react, but you couldn’t lie. “Are you insane or something?” Drayton shoots at you, but you could only laugh. “Maybe.” You shrug, a soft giggle falling from your lips. “You got any idea what we-“ he started to ask but you knew where he was going with the question. “That you kill people? Yeah, I know. Ive helped.” You smile proudly, catching Drayton off guard as he frowns and asks how. “Bubba showed me. Ive been skinning some of the people when they come down here.” “you… I wondered why it was lookin’ a lot cleaner.” Drayton sat back in his chair, his eyes trained on you. “Why’d yah stay?” “Because…” you trail off, dropping your eyes a little, asking yourself that question. But the answer was so obvious to you. “Because I wanted to.” there was a pause between you two as Drayton thought through everything he had just heard. “Well, Bubba wont be back for another hour. You best come up with me. Help with some stuff.” He stood up, his sudden offer making you smile and bounce out of your bed. You moved quickly to his side before following him up the stairs. He kept a very close eyes on you as he told you to start by cleaning up the blood left over from the night before. You got right to it, scrubbing at the blood on the main dinning table. You were able to lift it rather easily because it hadn’t completely dried into the woodwork. Next, he took you into the kitchen. “Are you going to make chilli?” You asked, right by his side. You knew the close proximity had him on edge but you needed him to trust you and maybe you could force that trust a little. Plus, it was nice being able to speak to someone and get a verbal response. You were glad it was Drayton who found you first, because it meant you had a good shot at getting on his good side, whereas Chop top and nubbins were completely crazy. “yeah, making a new batch.” He nods. “you sell it, don’t you?” You ask, excited that you might learn the receipt. Drayton nods as he turns on the hob and grabs a pan from the side. “You should enter those competitions, you know. The ones where you get judged. I saw a guy go on there once and his profit went through the roof when he won.” You told Drayton. for the next hour, you helped the eldest brother with the cooking. He was carful to keep knifes away from you but did tell you to do some peeling. “Do you mind if I make myself a cup of tea?” You ask, looking at the kettle. Drayton glances at you. He was about to nod when he realised that giving you boiling water might not be such a good idea, so he tells you to sit at the table and he’d make it. You were surprised by how well Drayton seemed to be taking this all. Maybe he was just hiding it but at least you might get to stay. Once he had made you a cup, he made himself one. Drayton sat at the opposite end of the table from you as you drank. He had left the chilli to stew for a while so you were sitting at the main dining room table. He asked you a few questions about your previous life and if there was anyone who might come looking for you, to which you laughed but answer no, nonetheless. Bubbas the first to return. You knew from the heavy footsteps when you recognised as his own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you looked at the door excitingly. you hadn’t seen him all day because he had had to leave before you were up properly. “Bubba!” Drayton called his name, making Bubbas footsteps stop. You thought you might be able to place them as heading for the basement first, to where he thought you were. But he then followed his brother voice. Drayton stood up and walked over to the stew, stirring it. When he entered the room, his eyes found you and he froze. You swear you could see fear in his eyes as he quickly made his way towards you. Bubba seemed not to have noticed that Drayton was in the room as he grabbed your hand, trying to drag you back to the basement. But you dug your heels into the ground and grabbed onto the table, stopping him to leading you anywhere. He gave a disgruntled growl as he tried again. “Aint no point in doing that, I already met the girl.” Drayton called over his shoulder before turning to look at his younger brother. Bubba had froze the second he had heard his brother speak. You looked over at Drayton who started to walk towards you both. Bubba hauled you from your chair and basically threw you behind him as he turned to Drayton, as if Drayton might forget you if he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t help but smile a little at this, but only for a moment. You leaned against his back, desperate for the contact you had lacked all day and also wanting to help his worry. “Damn it, I aint gonna do anything with her! Yer just lucky Ive been needing someone to help me.” Drayton chastised Bubba, batting the air in front of him before turning back to the chili which was bubbling a little. “But shes your responsibility. If she runs or trys to cause trouble, I aint-“ Drayton couldn’t finish his statement as Bubba frantically shook his head, silently promising Drayton that you wouldn’t run or cause trouble. “right then.” Drayton nods more to himself than you both. You stepped out from behind Bubba, running your hand up and down his arm to sooth him a little more as he kept a tight hold of your wrist. “Take her downstairs before the others get back. I’ll deal with them for now.” Bubba wasted no time in dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the basement. You couldn’t help but giggle a little until you realised he was genuinely scared he might lose you. Once in the safety of the basement, he turned to you, letting go of your wrist. You wasted no time in throwing your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his lips through his mask. his arms locked around you tightly and he held you against his chest. You could hear how his heart hammered in his chest. You felt slightly guilty for making him worry so, but it couldn’t be helped. Pulling back from the kiss, you decided to explain everything. “Im sorry. He came down here earlier and found me.” You told him, nodding to the area that lead to your bed. Bubba grunted, partly out of annoyance. He wanted to keep you safe and all to himself. Now he would have to share you with his brothers. He loved them and they were family, but he couldn’t help but feel a hint of fear. They weren’t the most careful people and always broke things. Even when he was little, they would break his toys or mess up his things. Bubba didn’t want that to happen to you. He just wanted to keep you down here and safe. you could see he was deep in thought as he gazed down at you. You reached up and slowly undid his mask, pulling it away from his face while he was thinking. “Bubba?” You called his name softly, drawing him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on your own and softened. “At least there’s no more hiding or being scared about them finding out.” This was true, and even Bubba was relieved. He always had a heart attack when his brothers went into the basement. Only the day before, you had been straddling him in a hot and heavy make out session when Chop Top came bounding down the stairs, calling out for Bubba. He hated having to leave you after getting each other riled up. You heard the front door open and Chop Top and Nubbins came stumbling in, screaming at each other. Drayton’s heavy footsteps came running as he ordered them both into the kitchen. You knew what he would be talking about. Or who. Bubba had tensed up at the noises, listening closely even though it was impossible to hear what was being said. You took him by the hand and lead him into the back towards your little bedroom. He followed you in a dreamlike state. When inside, you pull him down to sit on your bed with you. his arms wrapped around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up before retrieving a kiss from his lips. As normal, he sighed and let out a soft groan at the feeling before you moved to straddle his hips. You couldn’t stop whatever Drayton was saying to the others, but you could distract each other, if only for a little while.

[spoopy-queer]

my life has kind of exploded in the last 15 hours. im only just now alone even tho i kinda feel like i shouldnt be but i mean i should be ok for a few hours before i have to go to group.  i basically had a major panic attack and ended up talking to my dad on vid chat for four hours till my mom could come get me. i havent really talked a lot to him lately so it was weird at first to admit how ive fucked up lately and need help to straighten things out and make a plan. ive just been kind of “meh”-ing life lately and during that amassed debt i dont know how to handle at all and cant really pay my rent anymore.  well i cant.  i only paid some with help but my shit has reached a point where last morning i either had to tell the truth and show my fuck ups or just give up on life. and im at least at a point where i dont want to give up. i want to be at a place again where im genuinely excited for things and have some passion for the things i do. lately i barely feel a spark with anything.  so im going to be couch surfing the next month or more. theres always a bed at my grandmas for me but she lives in the next town over and thats like an hour to drive from there to the city center where my group therapy takes places.  i feel really ashamed and hate how i just let things stew i guess till i had no other choices.   dont really know what the next two months are gonna be like. i might have to move to my dads in spain for a month to just kind of get away tbh.  i dont know why im writing this and posting but sometimes in the past ive vented on here and its somehow freeing to just let it out before i tell my friends.  like hey uh ive been doing bad as you guys know but yeh its kinda worse than ive been letting on. also is it ok if i could crash sometimes on your couch or steal a shower?  i feel more at ease tho, ive already started packing and will prolly finish tomorrow. and my dad is going to help me make a deal with my loans to pay them off slowly. according to him i should have it under control in a few months. ugh im so tired and need to shower badly.  things are very up in the air rn but hopefully ill have a solid plan in a few days.  this is also just a reminder to myself i can ask for help. and i should. it sucks having to but im just in a place where i have to. for even small things like my sister or mom is going with me tomorrow between stores to get boxes for my stuff cause i dont think i can by myself hahah. 

ok im going to shower now. try to sleep, go to group later, answer my messages that ive ignored the past day and continue packing. 

[missblissy]

Title: Free Fall Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: Reader-insert, one-shot  Character: Arthur X Reader

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Description:             You and Arthur go for a hunting trip into Big Valley but some trouble comes along for the ride too. Things don’t turn up as planned. At all..

It wasn’t all that bad this morning. The rain from the night before had finally started to dry, and everyone started to come out of hiding.

Hosea was already up long before you, sitting by the campfire of the Horseshoe Overlook camp. Pearson had just gotten up too along with Grimshaw. You walked over to Hosea and sat down beside him.

“Good morning,” He said, handing you a small cup of coffee he had waiting beside him.

“Morning,” Your voice was still a little rough, “Thanks,” You took the cup, bringing it right up to your nose and let the steam flow over your face. It was far more refreshing than the chilly wet morning.

You look at Hosea, he seemed worried like always. All this stress of moving and running from the law has turned his hair even whiter and put more wrinkles on his face. He wasn’t looking too good. Every morning though, at every camp, for the last several years, you’ve woken up to spend your morning coffee with the old man. He was the father you never got to have.

“Got any plans for today?” Hosea took a drink from his coffee then looked over to you.

“Mhm,” You weren’t much for words this early. You took a sip of the coffee and then shrugged, “I’m not sure yet... We just got here, it’s only been a couple of days. There is a lot of work to do around camp still.”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded tired, “Maybe you should go hunting. The weather is perfect,” All of a sudden there was a little twinkle shining in his eye, “Years ago...” He started his story with a little smile, “When I was out in this country with some old counterparts, we heard of this huge- I mean really huge buck, right in the heart of Big Valley.”

“Yeah? Did you go after it?” You sat up a little straighter trying to get the hunch out of your back. You saw Abigal and John already having some sort of argument.

Hosea laughed a little and shook his head, “Didn’t even see it. Spent a whole week out there. Not a single damn thing. Nothing. We had better luck hunting the flies that piled around our shit.”

You both laughed at that. Chuckling under your breath, you asked, “You think it’s still out there?”

“Maybe,” Hosea took a sip of his coffee, “I’m not entirely sure, but it’s possible it’s still out there,”

“What’s still out there?”

You nearly jumped out your skin and screamed like a little animal. Arthur was standing behind you two with a bowl of stew in his hands. He had the smallest smirk on his face. So small you could barely even see it. Your heart started to pick up and inside your head, you were spazzing out. But you calmed down from the surprise and cooly said, “Huge buck, up in Big Valley,”

“You don’t say?” Arthur looked interested. You tried your best not to look at him too much. Some days you just wanted to stare from dawn till dusk at that man. Rarely did you ever get the chance to. He was always off doing this and that, running around like a little pack mule for Dutch.

You looked between the two men, and listened as Hosea said, “Why don’t you two go hunting?” You didn’t say anything and just kept sipping at your coffee. Truth is... You and Arthur... Haven’t been getting along too well recently.

Since the whole Blackwater incident, since you saw Dutch... Do that.. do what he did to that girl, your faith in the gang, in Dutch, has been unshaken. Hosea was the only one you could stand to even be around because he was the only one here who knew any better than Dutch, but nobody listened to him much.

It was hard, having to see the small family you loved finally start falling apart. From the start, it had just been the five of you. Hosea, Dutch, Arthur, John and little you. You watched people come and go, many of them died, but it was always you guys.

The last time you spoke to Arthur though, was up in the mountains during the blizzard when he came back with Kieran. You fought over letting that poor guy go, but Arthur insisted on following Dutches orders, and you argued that Dutch wasn’t fit to lead this gang anymore. That was about a week ago. You haven’t spoken since.

There was silence for a bit, you didn’t want to answer or get your hopes up that Arthur would want to go on a hunting trip with you. You did miss him a lot. Arthur was by far one of your favorite people, probably the only person you’d die for. He was, to say the least, the man of your dreams. He was just so... wrapped around Dutch’s finger.

Finally, after a minute or two, Arthur said, “Sure,” and looked down at you. He trapped a finger on your head a few times, “You up for it?”

“Yeah, I suppose. A buck that big could feed the camp for a week,” You were actually very excited to go. It was so hard to keep all those emotions inside and keep your cool and laid back facade.

The three of your got up and started walking through camp. Hosea spoke up and walked between you and Arthur, “Excellent!” He seemed so happy to have the both of you -sort of- talking again, “You’ll need some supplies and I’ll let Dutch know you’ll be out,” Hosea handed you a small bag filled with who knows what he meant by ‘supplies.’

He rushed you off and left with a smile and a wave about how he was going to go read some book. The silence returned between you and Arthur and you felt the need to fill it.

You climbed up on your horse and got comfortable in your saddle, “You know which way we’re headed?” Arthur just let out a little grunt. That meant yes, “Take the lead then.” You said.

The ride, for the most part, was silent and little slow paced. You watched Arthur up front as he took his time to look at the world around him. He seemed just as tired as Hosea. You wanted to fill the void with between you and Arthur so you caught up and rode beside him.

The sun had just barely made it over the hills, the sky was a painting of red, pink, blue, orange and purple. It was beautiful. So you chose that to be the topic of your small talk, “A perfect sunrise, don’t you think?”

“It is,” He agreed, “Aren’t they your favorite?”

“Yeah, it is.” You felt a little smile twitch at your lips. He remembered... It made your heart swell in your chest and your brain scream. It was so difficult being around Arthur now. Since your fight with him, things have changed in a way you didn't think possible. The fight... you both said something that hurt and shouldn't have been said.

The real problem was the denial you were in about how you felt about Arthur. You loved him, honestly, that's what it was. You loved him more and more and every day you shoved those feelings down and told yourself I'm not good enough for him. He's had so many heartbreaks. He's not looking for love. While at the same time you also told yourself he didn't want someone like you. Someone stubborn, someone temperamental and someone who he probably saw more of as an annoying sibling and less of a romantic interest. You know what he wanted. He wanted Mary.

There was silence again. It was awful. It never bothered you until the fight. You use to sit with Arthur for hours on end, never speaking a word, just reading a book while he wilted a stick with his knife. You had to fill the silence, you wanted to talk to him. You wanted him to talk to you.

The sun was well and high into the sky now. You cleared your throat and said, "Do... You remember..." You paused to see if he was listening. You could tell he was because you saw the side of his face and ear facing you, "You remember that time when we were really young, and Hosea was teaching us how to hunt with a bow?"

"Oh yeah, I couldn't shoot an arrow worth nothin," There was a little smile on his face. You rode your horse up to match his speed.

There was a grin on your face and gave him a look, "But I could! I remember the look on Dutch and Hosea's face when I got a bullseye on my first try!"

You both chuckled, while Arthur said, "And John was being a little shit because he couldn't figure out how the hell to shoot an arrow," You remember that day fondly. 

"Dutch was so proud of us. He couldn't shut up about how his three kids were learning to hunt and shoot.... and kill," You said that last part with a little bit of regret. You've come to blame Dutch for making you the person you were. But you kept that part to yourself.

"He was. Hosea too," Arthur carried the conversation on, "They share whiskey with us for the first time too, didn't they?"

"Ha, they did!"

As the day went on and you rode on, you and Arthur shared memories of better times. Talking about the old days made you nostalgic in a bad way. It made you realize how much has changed, how much the world was changing. How much you wanted to go back in time and live there forever. Eventually, the ride came turned from open fields to trees and mountain paths. When you finally go to Big Valley you were greeted with huge meadows filled with flowers of all kinds. It was so amazing and beautiful as the flowers made waves of there own in the wind. It was like watching the water on a beach.

You chose a spot to make camp past the open fields and more into the trees. While you hitched the horses and took care of them, you watched from the corner of your eye as Arthur rolled some logs over and made a little fire pit. He was busy, so you tried to leave him be. You didn't want to force him to deal with you. While he was doing that, you started going through the bag of 'supplies' that Hosea gave you.

Sitting down on one of the logs, you until the little string holding the bag closed. You find some pretty basic things. Berries, oats, bait, can of coffee, some cans of beans... And.. Did...? Was that? Moonshine?

Really now? "That god damn bastard," You smile and mutter those words under your breath as you pull out not one, but two big bottles of moonshine.

You looked around for Arthur, wanting to tell him about this little surprise, and you find him a few feet away chopping logs in half. By... God. That was a sight to see. There he was, Arthur Morgan, in the afternoon sun. Sweating. Showing off his arms with his sleeves rolled up like that. You quickly looked away. There those feelings were again. Strong and loud. Your heart raced and you shook your head to push those thoughts away. Instead, you stared at your hands and thought... Just once you thought, what if... Arthur loved you back. It made your face heat up, it made your palms sweaty. You thought and thought and started to get scared because you knew you were only going to hurt yourself if you actually kept feeling those feelings.

"(Y/N)!"

"Huh!?" You sat up straight and looked up. Arthur was standing right in front of you, he must have been talking to you. Oh no... "What?"

"I said... What you got there?" You looked down at the moonshine he was pointing at.

"Oh... uh," You were still a little flustered from before and your brain was having a hard time catching up, "Um," You handed him one of the bottles, "Hosea must have packed it to celebrate maybe?"

Arthur cracked it open and sat down beside you on the log. You were so lost in your thoughts earlier that you didn't even notice that he had set up a tent and even got the fire going. You were surprised when Arthur started during the moonshine. He took a long swig and cringe as the alcohol burned down his throat.

When he handed the bottle to you, you asked, "Don't want to save it? You.. know... for later? After we get the buck?" He shook his head, "Why not?"

"We'll get the buck tomorrow," He said as you took a little sip of the moonshine. You waited for him to explain a little more but he never said anything.

“So..? Why did you come out here then?” You stared down at your fingers as you twisted them together. You set the moonshine down between the both of you.

Arthur just let out a little grunt and nodded his head side to side slowly, “I needed a break. From all of that.” He waved his hand in the air like you knew what he was trying to say.

It took you a few seconds but then you suddenly got, “You mean the camp?”

“Mhm,” Arthur was back to drinking more of the booze, “Everyone has been getting on my nerves lately, it’s ridiculous. I can’t stand those idiots.” He made a face that reminded you of just how much Arthur enjoys his silence and isolation from the vast majority of the world. He was a loner and a stubborn one too.

“Oh…” You said as he offered the moonshine to you and you turned it down, “Well I can…Leave.”

“Nah,” He drawled out, “I can stand you. It’s Micah… Bill. Uncle. A little bit of John too,” He paused then put the moonshine back and his face grew dark, “And Dutch.” You felt something in the air that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You arm hairs stood up and you got a chill that ran over your skin. Arthur hunched forward resting his elbows on his knees and looked down at the ground. His hat was covering face for the most part.

He started to talk, but he got stuck on the words, “I… I know…” He stopped and cursed under his breath, “I know what you saw back in Blackwater changed you,” You didn’t really want to have this conversation right now. It bothered you that he was bringing this up again, “I know you’re not happy with the gang right now,” He took a breath and let out a heavy sigh that carried more weight than you could ever know, “And… I don’t blame you…”

His words surprised you. This was far different from the Arthur you argued with a week ago. He didn’t want to listen to you or even consider what happened in Blackwater. He blindly looked to Dutch and didn’t question his actions. Now it looks like Arthur was confused, even hurt a little.

“I’ve heard around from other people about what he did and I-” Arthurs words were cut off by the sound of gunfire incredibly close to your campsite. The both of you looked around quickly and into the trees. The evening sun painted the sky orange and white, making it a little harder to see if anyone was coming from the tree line.

The gunshots got closer and closer still and you could faintly hear shouting too. Arthur tapped your shoulder and pointed to the little creek down the hill, “Look,” You both found some cover behind a large boulder, “Someone’s being chased,”

You saw a man running for his life. He looked beat up, bloody and broken. He was screaming and stumbling every step he took. Following him close behind were a group of men on horseback.

“O’driscolls,” You muttered with malice in your voice, “Why are the O’driscolls up here too? How many of those bastards are there?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like they’re headed this way,” They killed the man they were chasing and started looting his body. You saw one of the men point in your direction. The fire! It was leaving a smoke trail for them to follow up and find you.

You looked at Arthur and he looked back to you. You shared some unspoken words and a simple nod. He ran left into the cover of some bushes and you went right and found a tree to hide behind. You pulled your revolver out and gripped the gun tight.

As the O’driscalls got closer you could hear them speaking.

“Ya think they still here?”

“They couldn’t have gotten too far,”

You peeked out and saw four men. They had walked past the bushes Arthur had hid himself in and closer to the tree you were at. The tallest O’driscoll said something about your horses and got yelled out, “We know ya still here! Come on out now or will kill ya nice and slow!”

This was it. You took a breath and calmed yourself down. You’ve done this before. No need to get nervous now. It’s just some O’driscolls, they’re nothing.

You walked out from behind your tree with your hands in the air, “I’m out!” You yelled at them. You took them by surprise and they all pointed their guns at you, “I’m out! I came out!” You slowly lowered your revolver down, “I don’t want any trouble now,”

“Well you got some trouble,” An ugly looking man pointed from you to your horses, “What about your friend? We know there are two of ya,”

“He’s hunting,” You lied coolly. Your revolver was still being lowered, “It’s just me. Take what you want,” The O’driscolls started lowering their guns too and walking closer towards you and your camp. As soon as your gun was by your side was when Arthur jumped from the bushes and gunfire cut the silence of the valley and gunsmoke filled the air.

It was an all out shoot out. You dove to the ground and took cover behind your tree while two of the O’driscolls ran off and the other two went for you. You shot at them, filling them with bullets, hoping they die slowly. Arthur had gone after the other two men while you shot down and killed the taller O’driscoll. The other one, the ugly one, was bleeding out but still hiding behind a log. He took random shots and one hit you and grazed right through your arm. You shouted out in pain and swore. You could see Arthur a few feet away beating the shit out of one of the men. He must have killed the other one.   

“Fuck! Argh!” It felt worse than it looked. There was a clean cut on your shoulder that already started to bleed, but other than that you were fine. You took a stupid risk, filled with rage and pissed out of your mind that this bastard actually nipped you, you ran out from behind your tree and straight for the O’driscoll. He didn’t even see you coming, he was busy shaking and trying to reload his gun. When he saw you, the look on his face was fear and he was crying. He started to plead with you, saying he didn’t want to do this and that hated his life as an outlaw. He even threw his gun to the side and put his hands up in the air.

Arthur had come running in and out of breath with his gun pointed at the little sad ugly man, “You gonna kill em?” He asked.

“Please! Please don’t kill me! I-I-I have… money! T-take it!” He tossed a few dollar bills onto the ground in front of your feet. You stared him down, getting closer. He was shaking like a leaf, “Look-look! You already shot me!” he did have a few bullet holes in his legs. One in his thigh and one below his knee.

“Looks like you’re already dead, don’t you think, Arthur?” You looked over to the stern man and he nodded his head.

“I’d reckon we should put him out of his misery,”

“N-no! No! Please! I-I-I-” The O’driscoll’s pleas were cut short. You shot him square between the eyes. You didn’t want to listen to him beg anymore and you’d rather get back to your campsite.

You reached down and hooked your arms under the dead man and started dragging him away, “Wanna help me get rid of the- Urgh! Shit!” You forgot you were shot and when you tried to lift the dead man your arm screamed out in hot pain.

Arthur came over and shuffled you away, “Go sit by the fire. I’ll take care of this,”

“No- I’m fine-” You tried picking up the body again but it hurt, even more, this time and it cause you to drop the body and fall with it too.

“Goddammit- Will you listen to me? You got shot for Christ's sake (Y/N)!” Arthur grabbed you by your good arm and helped you up. This was the first time you saw his face. He looked… worried? Upset? It was a mixture of many things but what stood out the most was how his brows were raised and knitted together and a sad little grimace was on his face. It was like he was the one in pain.

“I’ve been shot before,” You winced as he pulled you to your feet, “I’m fine, Arthur. It’s just a nip,” You looked to your shoulder and saw the blood stain soaking your shirt. It looked like you were still bleeding. Your sleeve was torn by the bullet so you pulled it back and gave the wound a real look. It didn’t seem that bad, just a medium-sized gash across your shoulder.

“Just go sit down, okay?”

You didn’t put up a fight anymore. You went to the campfire and sat down on a log. That moonshine looked really good right about now. You took your time swigging down have the bottle before Arthur came back. He sat down beside you an asked, “Can I see?” and gestured to your shoulder.

You nodded. He hesitated and his hand hovered over your shoulder like he was afraid of hurting you. He peeled back the clothes and started cutting the extras bits away. Arthur then reached into his satchel and pulled out some bandages.

The moonshine had started getting to your head so you found it a little funny, “You got everything in there, huh? Got any candy?”

He didn’t say anything but he went back into his satchel and gave you a chocolate bar. You burst out laughing, a little drunk, you found this absolutely hilarious. He gave you this look and raised a brow, “What on earth has gotten into you? And sit still dammit! I can’t fix you up if you keep moving,”

So you sat there drinking moonshine and chewing on some chocolate as Arthur took care of you. All those feelings you’ve been repressing started to come up again. You felt bad, guilty too. You easily feel down the trap that is the negative thoughts that can come with drinking. Arthur was almost done wrapping your shoulder when you made this sad little face.

“Arthur?” You were thinking about what he was saying earlier before the O’driscolls showed up.

“Yeah?” He didn’t look away from your arm, which was okay because you didn’t want him to catch you staring at him.

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” He stopped and looked at you, to which you darted your gaze away and to the ground, “For what?”

“I’m sorry for what I said. About Dutch… and you…” You could still feel the venom and hate that you spat at him back then. You told him how Dutch was just... Not the same person anymore and how you wanted to leave the gang. That Dutch was going crazy with money and obsessed over power. You told Arthur he was a blind coward that couldn’t think for himself and depended on Dutch to keep him from becoming a sad and depressed old bag of useless shit… Just like his real father.

    You waited for him to say something, but he was silent. So you rushed to talk again, “I-I… I shouldn’t have said those things. And-... We didn’t talk for a whole week. I missed you so much, Arthur. It was just a week and I felt like I lost you forever. We’re different.”

    He finished bandaging your arm. He still stayed there sitting right beside you. You’re legs where touching and you stared at them as he started to speak, “Well,” he rubbed his chin, “I didn’t say anything nice either. I just really remember you saying you wanted to leave. I didn’t really get why. I didn’t see what Dutch did on that ferry but you did. And I was talking to Hosea, and John and everyone else. They all said things,” He paused and then shook his head, “I get it a little more now. You saw Dutch do something he said he’d never do. You saw the way he exploded and killed that woman. But I can’t have you leaving me just cause something bad happens.”

    You’re eyes shot wide open and you looked up at Arthur, “...Me?”

“I-... I mean the gang. Can’t have you leaving the gang,” He looked down at the bottle of moonshine and snatched it up from you with a grumpy looking frown on his face, “Gimme some of that.”

“You said! Me! You said ‘I can’t have you leaving me.’ That’s what you said!!” Your drunk little brain was going wild. Normally you’d sit there and keep your cool but thanks to the booze that wasn’t going to happen.

“Alright!” Arthur snapped, “I said it! So what?”

You stole the moonshine back from him to drink some more and get up to your feet, “It means you want me around!” You smiled. You felt so much better hearing that. You were so afraid before that he’d never want to be around you again.

“I guess it does,” He had a small smile twitching on his lips, “I do want you around (Y/N). You’ve been around me almost all my life, it’d be… weird if you weren’t there.”

The first bottle of moonshine was already empty, “I want you around too. I love having you around,” You felt yourself getting a little dizzy so you sat down again. Your filter wasn’t on either, the words just puked out of your mouth like it was nothing, “I love everything about you, Arthur. I never want you to leave you or leave you behind,” You said it so casually but it took Arthur by surprise.

He was looking at with question in his eyes, “What's wrong?” You asked, “Do I got something on my face?” You started rubbing the back of your hand across your mouth and cheek.

That weird look on Arthur’s face was replaced with a warm smile, then a little chuckle, then a laugh, then huge fits of loud and booming giggles. He was laughing so much that you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. What was so funny?

Arthur cracked open the second moonshine bottle and took a large swig, “Goddammit, (Y/N). You make it so hard,” He said between sips of the bottle, “You are one of the only good things to ever happen to me and you make it so hard for me to stay away from you,” He took another sip, “I was mad. I was mad as hell about what you said last week. I wanted to stay mad at you forever. I stayed away. I did. It didn’t work. Every morning you came out of your tent all sad and heartbroken. It hurt seeing you like that. I saw you slouch around with Hosea, hiding behind him like some kid when your just as old as me,” Arthur chuckled and it made your heart skip, “But today I saw you… You didn’t look sad anymore. Just tried. Empty. I didn’t want to do that to you. I still don’t think you should leave. I don’t want you to leave. But I see it… I see that you aren’t happy here with us anymore.”

You were too drunk to really say anything meaningful. You did something bold and leaned onto Arthur and put your head on his shoulder. You weren’t one for touching others or being touched, but the moonshine was helping you do just the opposite, “I’m happy,” You mumbled, “I’m happy when I’m with you.” You could feel Arthur stiffen up at your touch and his breath hitched as you talked, “You take care good care of me. I wish we could have our own lives though,”

“How so?” He asked hesitantly.

“You know…” You were looking at the fire flicker and flash as it burned away the logs, “Just us. Our own people. We’d be normal. We’d have land, a home… maybe a dog.” Your repressed feelings and dreams started swelling up into your throat and spilling out, “Or we’d run away and go to California. Live in those red wood forests with the big trees were no one could ever find us. We don’t rob people, we don’t steal or kill. We don’t go looking for trouble and trouble doesn’t find us.”

“I wish you told me this sooner,” He sounded solemn, upset. You started to panic and look over at Arthur. Did you share too much? Did you just out your real feelings to him? Shit! Stupid! Stop drinking! This is why you don’t drink ever, not never, because you won’t shut up. You swore off the moonshine, cursing it for being a potent truth potion.

“I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” You hid your face behind your hands and felt the crazy blush take over. You suddenly felt a tight grip around both of your wrist and calloused hands pull them down and away from your face.

When you looked up, Arthur was right in front of you, face to face with a serious looking expression. You blushed even more and felt the need to jump away, he’s never been this close to your face before.

“Say it again,” He said. You were confused and you gaze flickered back and forth between him and that duck shaped cloud in the evening sunset, “Say how much you want me around. Say how much you want to run away with me.”

You finally looked at him and met his gaze. His eyes were locked hard onto you, searching and digging right into you. You cleared your throat and nervously said, “I… I want you around all the time. Forever. I’ve wanted to run away with you since we were kids.”

It happened so fast that you didn’t even register what was going on until it was almost over. Arthur had close the space between you both by bringing you to him and kissing you. Your heart was pounding so hard that you felt your skull throbbing. He pulled away before you even return the kiss, but there were only inches between you two.

“I’m sorry,” He started to back away, “I should have asked- I’ve.. it’s… too much moonshine-” But you grabbed him tight and pulled him back to face you.

“Do it again,” You said, just like he asked to say it again, you wanted him to do it. Not a second was wasted, Arthur scooted closer and closer until the two of you were pressed together and lip locked in a kiss that had been going on for about a minute now. He tasted like cigarettes and moonshine, not that that was a bad thing. It was almost comforting.

You were stuck together until you both needed to breathe again. Arthur had a big cheeky grin on his face, it was beyond adorable, “I’ve waited some many god damn years for that,” He confessed.

You matched his smile, though a little shyer, “Me too” you admitted, “What are we going to do for the rest of the night?” The sun had started to set a long time ago and the sky was growing darker and darker by the minute.

Arthur grabbed the moonshine again and grinned a little, “Finish this, first of all,” You made a little giggle at that. He then lifted up his arm and gave a little wave of his hand. You slid over and got comfortable so close to him as he wrapped his arm behind you, “Then, after that, we’ll see what happens,” You just couldn’t stop those smiles and giggles. He always brought out the good in you. It felt nice to finally be this close to him. To have those feelings be returned meant the world to you, it meant everything. You didn’t even plan on this happening and yet it did. Arthur would press kisses to your cheek and pull you over to steal even more. He was so starved of attention that he took it whenever he wanted. The two of you enjoyed the rest of the night by the campfire, laughing and drinking and starting a new chapter in your lives.

[mitchmarnier]

status pending.

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier (Reddie) | Chapter Two | 2.1k

Richie stalled for a moment, lowering his phone away from his face and looking up at Stan across the room. His best friend was tossing clothes into his drawers, re-packing up his childhood bedroom after getting home from university.

“Hey so,” Richie cleared his throat awkwardly, hands starting to shake. “I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

[or: Richie makes a joke. Eddie responds outside the realm of expectation and now not one person has any fucking idea what’s going on at all.]

“Are you nervous?” Stan asked slowly, eyeing Richie cautiously. His best friend had gone through three separate outfits before settling on a surprisingly tame outfit of a stripped maroon and black shirt, tucked into black shorts. Richie had gone with wearing his thick rimmed glasses that day, even going as far as to highlight his water line with eye liner than Stan didn’t even know his best friend owned, and even Stan had to admit he looked good.

Richie had his fingers tugging on a couple of his tighter curls so they would match the way the rest fell more softly, and his eyes went wide. “What? Why would I be nervous? What are you talking about?”

Stan gave Richie a look that implied he was crazy, which was a look that Richie had received a great many times in his life. “Uh, because you asked Eddie out as joke and he said yes and this is the first time you’re going to see him since?”

Richie swallowed audibly, a scratched at his now flushed cheek. “I… Eddie must know that I was just joking. I’ve been jokingly flirting with him since we were kiddos, he’s never taken it seriously before.”

Stan raised his eyebrows. “Where you jokingly flirting with him- or were you flirting with him for real, and he never took it seriously so you just played it off as jokes?”

Richie tossed his little black pencil eyeliner towards Stan and it pegged him in the middle of the forehead. Stan let out an annoyed whine, and rubbed at the quickly reddening spot. “Because I’ve never seen you put so much effort into looking good before, so I’m going to lean towards assuming it’s because you’re at least kind of hoping Eddie was serious about saying yes and you want to look good when you see him.”

“I’ll have you know, Staniel,” Richie said in mock-haughty voice, all while grinning wildly. “That I’ve become the fashion icon I was always meant to be in California. The place has done wonders for me.”

Stan knew at least that much was true, he’d noticed it himself, and decided his best course of action was simply let Richie stew in his own denial. Turning away, Stan didn’t notice Richie’s phone pinging or the pale look of panic that crossed his face when he looked at it.

Eddie Kaspbrak has himself listened as in a relationship with you! Do you wish to confirm? Mark as Spam.

Richie swallowed roughly, twisting his head over his shoulder and glancing at Stan’s going through his own belongings to find something to wear that day. It was the first day of summer that all the Losers would be back in Derry, which meant it was going to be a lit party without fail. There wasn’t any true reason that they needed to look good, but they all liked to anyway.

Richie turned back around and confirmed Eddie’s relationship request.

**

Eddie looked good, but that wasn’t anything new or surprising to Richie. He’d grown his hair out since moving from Derry- no doubt an argument with his mother when she saw him- and there were now soft curls around his ears. It seemed Eddie had ditched his pastels and khakis when he’d gotten to New York, now rocking some ripped black jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt so oversized Richie had to wonder when Eddie had stolen it from him, matching with an acid washed denim jacket tossed over himself despite the discomfort it must have brought him in the summer heat. He even had a navy green coloured beanie pressed over his curls, one that Richie knew he had kept from his ex-boyfriend, Martin, when they’d broken up around Thanksgiving.

Martin had been some douchebag musician, that everybody had told Eddie wasn’t good enough for him and Eddie hadn’t listened through their entire relationship. He’d cheated on Eddie while he’d been away for school, claiming it to be great inspiration for a song. Eddie seemed to have taken it in great stride, and been more than happy to continued wearing all the clothes he’d brought with him to school that belonged to the scum bag.

“Hi,” Eddie said, beaming up at Richie and seeming a little bit breathless. The smile that came across Eddie’s face made Richie’s heart feel a little tense.

“Did anybody tell you that it’s summer?” Richie asked lightly, reaching out and rubbing at the winter hat on Eddie’s head. “You must be roasting.”

Eddie knocked Richie’s hand away from his hat, and after only a moment of hesitating, he pulled their hands together to their sides and tangled their fingers together. Richie’s gaze dropped down to their hands in surprise, smiling at how small Eddie’s hand looked in his. It was a sight Richie could definitely get used to.

“HEY! Idiots!” Beverly’s voice came out to them, seemingly endlessly amused. Richie startled, moving to pull his hand away from Eddie’s but Eddie’s grip on him tightened and he couldn’t. Eddie tugged on Richie’s hand and they turned to follow the others, walking hand-in-hand. Neither of them saw Mike pulled out his phone and snap a photo of them from behind, but they supposed they couldn’t be surprised.

When Richie connected to the Denbroughs house WiFi, his phone was immediately blowing up. Heart racing, Richie yanked at his phone only to catch Eddie doing the same. Some how it hadn’t occurred to Richie that confirming Eddie’s relationship request would have created a post on their Facebook timelines- and thus, an utter uproar. In just the short hour since Richie had confirmed it, it had racked up a whopping 178 reactions and 26 comments.

Elizabeth Ripsom: AYYYYY IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME!!

Edward Corcoran: im still trying to decide if this is a best friends thing or a gay thing

Martin Campbell: ??????????????????????????????

Richie couldn’t help smiling slightly at the distress comment from Eddie’s shitty ex, penned out a quick just because it’s a best friends thing, why should that ever mean it isn’t gay? in response to Eddie Corcoran and just as he was about to lock his phone it pinged with another notification.

Mike Hanlon tagged you in a photo!

Frowning, Richie clicked it open and found himself staring down at a picture of himself from not even twenty minutes earlier, hand-in-hand with Eddie. Richie had his head turned to the side, grinning widely while Eddie seemed to be mid-sentence. Richie could practically see the heart eyes emoji pasted over his face, and it made him cringe. Mike’s caption was a very simple “we stan” with a heart eyes emoji companying it, and Richie couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he noticed the image had already gotten more than 30 likes in the past minute.

“This is hot gossip for everybody, huh?” Richie forced out a chuckle. He looked around at his friends, who all seemed to be giving him different levels of confused looks while Mike grinned deeply at him.

Eddie let out an excited noise, looking at his own phone. “Oh, Mike! That’s so fucking cute, I love it!”

Richie startled, remembering how much Eddie had protested ever taking photos with Martin. They’d had a few selfies together on Eddie’s phone- that he’d purged over Skype with Richie after the break up- but he’d never allowed them online. He posted pictures of Martin- all also purged- onto his Instagram pretty often, but it was never pictures of them together.

“I’ll give you ten bucks to make that your profile picture, Eddie,” Beverly said, already tossing her backpack onto the Denbrough’s couch.

Eddie laughed, turning his phone screen around to show her the Facebook app. “Jokes on you, I was doing it anyway- but I’ll still take the ten bucks.”

Beverly shrugged, pulling her wallet out. “I’m not even mad.” She said, handing a cheek-looking Eddie the bill. Richie shook his head, confused, and sat onto the arm of the armchair Eddie was sitting in. He leaned over slightly just enough to watch Eddie’s profile load the new profile picture… the picture of them, holding hands.

Eddie tilted his head back and smiled up at Richie. Richie, suddenly feeling unable to control his body, snatched the toque off Eddie’s head and quickly placed it onto his own. Eddie chuckled slightly, rolling his eyes.

“That clashes with your outfit horribly,” Eddie pointed out, stretching out and letting his arm come to rest on Richie’s knee. His fingers rubbed at the bare skin almost absentmindedly, staring up at Richie as though he were some sort of interesting find under a microscope. It made Richie’s skin sting a little bit where Eddie touched him.

“When have I ever cared about my outfit matching?” Richie laughed, dropping his hand on top of Eddie’s. Simply for the purpose to get Eddie to stop moving his damn fingers.

Eddie raised his brow, smiling slightly. He tilted his head to the side, head nearly resting on Richie’s arm and Richie’s breath caught in his throat. “Your outfit seems to match pretty nicely today.”

“That’s alllll for you, darling,” Richie said with a waggle of his brow. Flirting with Eddie was something he could definitely do. Something he was more than good at, something he’d been doing his whole life. He leaned in towards Eddie the way he always would, but froze when Eddie seemed to lean back towards him.

“Are we getting high or not?” Stan cut through him, maybe in a classic Stan fashion, but also maybe because he saw the panic that rushed across Richie’s face. The room still erupted in excited responses, but Richie got caught up in Eddie’s acceptance.

“Really?” He asked, leaning forward to Eddie. His arms moved comfortably around Eddie’s mid-section, letting him slip in behind Eddie and holding Eddie close. “You know you don’t ever have to.”

“I know,” Eddie said, twisting his head to look at Richie. “I got really curious about it at school, but I wanted the first time I tried it to be with you guys.”

Richie couldn’t think of a good response to that, so he settled with squeezing Eddie like a child would hug their stuffed animal for comfort. Eddie tilted his head back in an almost unnatural angle to kiss Richie’s cheek lightly.

Bill made a loud gagging noise, throwing some sort of flannel shirt that was resting at the couch at them. “You two muh-make me sick.”

“Don’t hate us just because you’re not us,” Richie called over, pressing a too loud and too wet kiss to Eddie’s forehead for show. It was the type of thing Richie had always done, but instead of Eddie squawking and pushing Richie away, he let out a small laugh and actually leaned in closer to Richie’s body. Richie wondered if Eddie could feel how his heart was pounding.

**

Richie wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to turn down the bong when it came around to him, but he was beyond thankful for it as he rubbed at Eddie’s back while the poor boy was throwing up into Bill’s bedside garbage. Eddie had brought the whole basket up to rest in his lap, and every Losers had disappeared to sit on the front porch once Eddie had started puking.

Richie had known that last bong was a mistake for Eddie- he shouldn’t have tried to keep up Bev and Stan in terms of smoking, anymore than somebody should try to keep up with Ben in terms of drinking- and Richie had said as much to Eddie. This didn’t feel particularly like a good I told you so moment, so Richie held his tongue and made a point to say it to Eddie later.

He was still rubbing Eddie’s back when the door creaked open and Ben came in. He gave a soft smile and shook his head. “How are we doing?”

Eddie groaned something unintelligently, and Richie patted his back once before standing and walking over towards Ben. Richie let out a tired sight that was beyond his control and Ben held his arms out. Richie fell forward into them, and smiled at how strongly Ben always hugged. Richie supposed that Ben’s hugs were the peak of platonic comfort.

“You’re a good boyfriend, Rich,” Ben said quietly, quietly enough that Richie knew Eddie wouldn’t be able to hear him. “I’m not going to tell anybody, I’ll tell everybody out there just you’re just sitting on your phone looking at memes.”

Richie chuckled, but had to wonder if he could be a good boyfriend, if he wasn’t sure he was a boyfriend at all.

[hello-clarisse-blog1]

Blood, Murder and Paris.

Dublin. 31st October/1st November 1791

It is always asked of me, do I remember my first taste of human blood? I cannot help but shudder, but I do remember it. It isn't fondly simply because I nearly revealed my true nature to the world. I was clumsy in my first days, I hadn't the faintest idea of what on earth to do. How could I? I had stormed off like a pigheaded fool and left Colin to burn in the flames of our burning cottage. He was my only source of answers and as far as I knew he was dead. His screams had become a chorus to me that night and I had jumped up and down like an excited child, thinking my troubles were finally over. How I loathed him! But as townspeople began to take note of the smoldering house, I ran off, running into town and hiding myself in the basement of the church. It was dark there and I knew other homeless individuals took refuge there. I was fortunate that there was no one there when I crawled in. Hiding in a corner, I covered myself with my shawl, considering what all had just occurred.  

I shuddered as his screams entered my mind once more and I raised my hands to rub at my temples. I now took no pleasure in what I'd done and I swore, as long as I lived, that his screams would forever live on in my mind along with his horrified expression when he realised I had finally found my nerve. I couldn't help but feel guilty, but if he'd not been so bitter and callous to me, I wouldn't have done as I had. I had endured every sort of insult--about my looks, about my lack of education, about my illiteracy, about my terrible cooking, beatings, rape, torture. But to make me into a monster and deny me any pleasure I may have ever known in the afterlife with my dead child, he had it coming for sure. I fell asleep shortly thereafter. I wasn't sure of the time but I awoke with a start some hours later. I remained where I was until I heard Father McGinty lock the doors above. I knew it was dark then. I also was horrified by the strongest hunger I had ever known.

Hunger, for a vampire, is different from when you're a human. It isn't your stomach growling; it is your entire body aching; your mind screaming, your taste buds longing. The scent of food is repulsive; I could smell the stew someone in the village had made and I vomited, repulsed. However, the scent of blood. I could hear the heartbeats. I could hear the blood running in their veins and my body screamed for it. I was no longer myself as I allowed my feet to carry me up the steps and out into the cool night air. The sun was well set and the people of the night began to come creeping out. The drunks, the whores. I wrapped my shawl around myself, keeping my face hidden. As far as I could tell, people thought I had perished in the fire along with Colin. It wasn't something I was going to discourage them from thinking. But first, dinner.

Looking at humans...the very thing I had been the night before...all I saw was a meal. I felt disgusting that was I saw. But the prick of my new fangs against my full bottom lip told me that I was no longer amongst their numbers. I headed towards the tavern, hiding in the alley between it and the haberdashers. Laughter and the usual rubbish talk. Colin had never allowed me to come with him to the tavern, so I wasn't entirely certain of what went on in there. They were currently toasting to his memory. I scowled. Of course they would miss him.

"Nay, t'is to 'is wife!" A woman's voice. I raised a brow. "I drink ta 'is wife. Wee lass 'ad ta put up with that small pricked arse hole! But now maybe she's at peace. Cause puttin' up wit' him, she had ta be goin' straight ta 'eaven. We all 'ated him. Why are we wastin' a good toast on 'im? Nay, what's the young lasses name?" The woman continued and for a moment, there was silence. Not surprising that no one knew my name. I shrugged my shoulders about to head off when I heard a familiar voice.

"'er name was Clarisse. Clarisse Elisabeth du Volde. She was a good lass. She ne'er complained. Only once did I e'er see 'er cry an' tha's because Colin 'ad drank away the money from the barley."

Father McGinty! I bit on my lip, staying a moment longer though the pain of hunger was damn near bringing me to my knees.

"Jaysus, Mary an' Bridgit! Tha's a mouthful!" Someone called and there was more laughter. I could no longer bear the pain and when one of the patrons came out for a piss, I made my move, letting my shawl down and revealing my face. "Dear God, please let me not fail...," I prayed quietly, holding to the hope that God would hear me, one of his pitiful creations, and grant me the strength I needed. I had not asked for this life. I hadn't asked to be damned. How could he condemn me and forget about me? My emerald eyes darkened to a crimson hue and I felt my fangs elongate and prick my bottom lip. I shuddered as I knew the monster was coming out in me. In an instant, I found him in my arms screaming as I made my first attempt to bite him. I had never moved so fast in my life; I have never felt so...powerful...as I held this writhing drunken figure in my arms. There was something about playing God that was intoxicating, truth be told.

Ah, but the young man was strong and he fought me but I refused to give in. He had no idea that I needed his blood; I needed to satiate this crippling sensation through my body. I tightened my grasp and finally sank my fangs in, tearing through his tender flesh and feeling them sink directly down into the vein. Sweet Jesu, there was a peace in this. My body melded to his and warmth filled me; life entered me once again and finally, all of my senses calmed down. Everything seemed a little less magical than it had a few moments before. I no longer felt so much like a beast.

His blood flowed into my mouth and I finally felt peace flow through me. Its bitter, yet sweet, coppery taste filled my mouth and I wanted more. I squeezed him tighter, unaware of the fact that I was crushing him as I drained him further. His heartbeat was still strong despite all his blood loss and I, being full now and tired of his incessant whinging, grabbed his head, twisting it and sighing at the disgusting sound of his neck bones breaking. I couldn't let him live, even though, who would believe him? No, I let him go, looking at his body as it landed with a thud. I leaned back against the wall, my eyes closed. I had just killed an innocent man. Thou shall not kill. This was my second murder. The first being Colin. I silently wept as I ran to my aunt and uncle's house, aiming to steal a horse and carriage--well, the carriage was mine; a gift when I married.

I paused when I stepped into the barn, my uncle sitting there. "I t'ought ye'd show up." He spoke quietly, looking at me. There was such kindness there and I wanted to run into his arms and cry. But I didn't and he didn't move towards me. "You...you knew?" "I know what he was. I only learned last month but I dinna get to see ye; the crops. I feared he did it ta ye too. Come girl. Yer aunt packed ye a trunk of things ye may need. I'll get ye 'ome."

I was going home. Home to Paris. I didn't know what I'd do once I got there, but I would manage, I swore to myself, even as I licked the blood off of my lips. And I would never again kill an innocent. If I had to be...this...I would only kill those who were as evil as myself.  Climbing into the carriage, my uncle closed the curtains of the windows; which I noticed were made of the thickest, darkest fabric I'd ever seen in my life. I later learned it was my aunt's mourning gown. It served its purpose well; keeping the sun out. Each day, I slept. Each night, he stopped to rest and I hunted. I found a groove; becoming better at it.

By the time I reached Paris in the middle of December, I had learned the King was dead, the Queen had been arrested with her children, and chaos reigned supreme. It worked in a newborn vampire's favour. Whoever would have thought that The Reign of Terror would be a perfect time to come of age?

[audiovisualrecall]

i doooont knoooow whaaat iiiim doooooiiiiinggg

i have a second interview/meeting with the couple who run the ceramics place tomorrow, about the painting instructor ish job, and i’ve tried to prepare for things we might talk about and think abt stuff and create lots of concepts/paintings and think abt how to advertise and stuff so that im not like ‘uhhhhhhhh?????!!!??’ when i get there....... i still feel very ??!!!!!???!!!??!!! about it AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

i dont know what i’m doing i’ve never had a real real job before and all i can think about was my disastrous attempt at popping by to check in last month and just. *cringes hard*

:S

also i dont know what i’m doing!!! how do i know if a job is worth it!!! and idk how much do they expect me to put into the business building aspect of this, at the same time how much freedom do i have to do or try to do things my way?? sgdggfhfcdfhxftfdggff i dont know what im doing!! i dont know about jobs! and taxes and like is it gonna be independent contractor and what do i need to think about and how does someone with adhd who’s indecisive as hell and has never learned how to use a planner or plan a schedule really outside of college classes figure out all of that stuff, scheduling... a different type of classes. i dont know!! anything!! and what if they decide we’re not a good fit bc of my nervousness/eagerness/awkwardness/inexperience/something else and i’ve done all this work.........i really want to do this though even though im scared as fuck and dont know if i can do it at all, and that part its like, can i?????? its a lot of work and stress probably??? and i dpont have any experience with this, i dont know how other painting places do it, im just kinda shooting blind, beyond like...advice from my mom who’s a teacher....and sorta my minimal experience and just sorta feeling of what works or doesn’t for helping ppl create....like i want to do it!!! im just AFRAID. i feel like im notoriously bad at marketing actually, i barely use my social media outside of tumblr, and this is not the place to advertise sort of paint night sessions.......(actually i wonder if i could do...like...videos........... anyway thats another story) and i have some experience designing flyers/posters/ads and i have an eye for it kiiiindaaaaa? but also i’ve never made any professionally. i dont have indesign or photoshop. and if i got them idk if i remember how to use them right. *blows raspberry*

anyway im just NERVOUS and i have a drs in the morning and then the interview/meeting thing is in the afternoon/evening. so i have lots of hours but also very few at all to stew/prepare/drive myself crazy in... hahahahahaha

:S :U

i dont know what im doing or what to expect and its terrifying and exciting and anxiety inducing and i want to run away and hide and also not do that. fdhfj;lzngldxnbdrgesgbdsthdgfnmdrjktiseyojbs olgkzmarwr,fs

i dont know if i should have some questions in mind to ask them, like....they said i’ll earn 30% to their 60% at least for the first 3 months i think, and that’s fine for me rn, but er, i guess how id get paid? like on the books check, or off books cash?? also how much we should be charging per person per session or per group for events and parties, like i lowball a loooot, mostly bc i wouldnt pay more than $30 for a paint night type thing, and that’s pushing it imo....but i also know we have to make a profit, enough to cover their expenses and have an income that at least hits min wage..... but my thought is if you go low, and you get more interest and attendance, you’ll make the same or more money than the ones asking $45 a person. Or maybe we do that middle ground, $35 a person for adults, $25 for kids, okay, and do like $5 off discounts for highschool/college kids and for seniors (with ID)? idk! and idk how to discuss this stuff, or whether i am going crazy but wanting to have like, weekly open sessions for 3 different age groups (kids, teens, adults) and then in addition offer events and parties for each age group. and possibly add in mixed groups like family days?? and so there’d be different pricing for each age group, both individually and for events....is that like, too much? i just cant imaging a 14 year old wanting to be in the same session as an 8 year old, unless the younger kid was their sibling or friend?? so like it wouldnt be hard/fast rules, like  a party event could include both kids+teens, or whatever....but they’d be priced by the age of the majority of the kids/teens or the birthday kid or w/e.???? is it too complicated????? but also it makes sense?? like 17 year olds need a different session from 8 year olds bc that way i can address each group accordingly, like younger kids you need to check they understand/heard what you’ve said/shown them, they need to be reminded to hold a brush like a pencil, and they need more of the basics stuff first like let’s make shapes with the paint on paper first to get the hang of the brushes and stuff....teens are more self sufficient, they dont want to be babied. and the older ones definitely cant be talked to like the 8-10 year olds?? especially the almost-adults. but still the adults and the teens wouldnt really work grouped together either? except again if they do so themselves then i can make it work of course. ALSO like, group sizes! i dont want to prepare more than 20 canvasses per session, so that’s preferably my maximum for parties as well as open sessions. im expecting less but also afraid that larger groups will want to have events or will just show up and its like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and idk what alan and kathy expect and idk

anyway im just . really nervous asfdghrdhfxgn

[promptistrashqueen]

A Royal Commission (7)

@fleetstreetfatality

Prompto can’t believe his luck when Noctis shows up for his next session an hour early. Not because he’s happy about it, though he really wants to be.

It’s been a shit day and Prompto was looking forward to seeing the Prince but he didn’t want Noctis to see this part of his life, not now...probably not ever honestly. He can’t do anything about the woman though so he just has to let the train wreck happen anyways.

He’s standing with his arms crossed, Charlie and Loqi hovering behind him, visible but quiet as his backup as the dark haired lady loses it.

“...on my baby girl! Desecration of the body won’t allow her to ascend when she passes and you’re the one who’s damned her! I will be seeing you in court for the intent to harm and spread of malicious and harmful material!”

Noctis, standing in the doorway goes from bewilderment to glaring anger when he figures out what the fuck is going on. Despite Prompto’s quick head shake he pushes past the woman and stands beside Prompto, brows furrowed and mouth twisting into an expression of distaste.

“The court won’t hear you, your daughter is an adult if she came in without you and maybe if you disagree with her decision to have art on her body, you should talk to her.”

He sees the way the woman recoils when she realizes who he is, but the shock is short lived.

“I see what this is. You’re going to protect him, even though he’s perpetuating evil in this city! I’ve always said you and that father of yours weren’t worthy of the crystal, that it should be someone pure who’s willing to rid the streets of filth like him.”

Prompto catches Noctis’ shoulder when he steps forward and it only fuels the woman as her nostrils flare.

“Disgusting, he’s befouled you hasn’t he? Not with his poisonous “art” either...You’re a sin-”

She doesn’t get any further, wherever her tirade is heading. Prompto’s had more than enough and so have the other two.

“Get out of my shop. Get out and don’t you dare come back. I have every right to call the police and I will not hesitate to do so if you don’t leave. Prince Noctis has nothing to do with this and if you wish to take us to court, that’s you. Now get. The. fuck. Out.”

Prompto’s not entirely certain what his expression looks like but it feels taut and rigid, his teeth clenched around his words and his eyes narrow. He hopes they’re still blue, but no one should ever, ever be allowed to insult Noctis.

The woman looks at the four of them, harrumphs, and turns on her heel.

“Fuck...I fuck…” Prompto’s hands are shaky with anger still as he runs them through his hair.

“Today’s been shit here, any better up there in the big time Noct?” Charlie breaks the tension with his calm voice and Noctis shrugs.

“Not really? We keep getting unannounced visits from Accordo and Niflheim and it’s making security crazy. That’s why I’m early, had to get out while I could.”

Prompto chuckles a little at that and sighs again, ignoring the way Loqi’s looking at him. He touches Noctis’ arm lightly and tips his head toward the back door, the Prince flashes him a smile and follows him back to his work room.

Noctis doesn’t waste time once they’re out of sight, he reaches and pulls Prompto against him. Prompto thinks about trying to resist for less than a second before he lets himself melt against Noctis’ warm body, hugging him back tightly. His fingers curl in the back of Noctis’ shirt and he huffs a breath that’s nearly a laugh.

“Long day?” Noctis asks conversationally, like he’s not saying it practically into Prompto’s hair. He rolls his eyes, not bothering to respond to that as he let’s the tension drain out of him.

“We can reschedule if you want the rest of the day off.”

Prompto does pull away at that, shaking his head and laughing a little, “Nah, working always helps me feel a little more put together, you know? Besides I might get beheaded if I make someone reschedule. I’ve got very important clients you know.”

He adds a little sniff, tilting his chin up and expecting Noctis to roll his eyes, but the Prince tilts his own head a little, his eyes a bit dark. He steps close, crowding Prompto toward the wall and making him swallow even though he feels a thrill as his heart jumps.

“More important than me?”

Noctis’ voice is pitched low and the joke is gone, leaving a playful sort of heat rolling off him. Prompto wants to be smooth and reply with some quip but his brain shorts out on him and all he manages is, “Maybe.”

He’s flushed though and his blue eyes are blown wide, he licks his bottom lip as Noctis steps closer, unaware how the swipe of his tongue makes the skin glisten. Noctis’ gaze focuses on the shine and he brings their mouths together, pressing Prompto against the wall.

Prompto spares a thought to the curtain but it’s mostly closed and Noctis’ mouth is warm and he lets his focus drop entirely to the Prince. His eyes slide shut and he cups Noctis’ face in one hand, sighing softly and allowing their tongues to meet. Noctis keeps the kiss soft and Prompto doesn’t rush it, letting the tide of warmth roll and break as the taste of the other man invades his senses.

If everytime they kiss is going to be like this Prompto’s pretty sure he’s going to need to hire someone to slap him or else he might start writing bad romance novels, because fuck, it’s good. Noctis tilts his head and licks further into his mouth and the thought sloughs off, leaving him groaning and pressing back against Noctis.

A harshly cleared throat forces them to part, though Noctis doesn’t bother to move back and Prompto can’t say he minds, though he is a little embarrassed. Loqi looks unimpressed as he fingers the curtain, unspoken remind to close the damn thing clear.

“If you’re not going to work on him, you might as well help close up so we can all get out of here sooner. Or I guess you could keep being lazy, since you’re the greatest and all.”

Prompto glares, because Loqi knows he’s being unfair with that last bit, “We’ll get to work then, leave the floors, it’s my turn to do them anyways.”

Loqi nods but doesn’t leave immediately, staring Prompto down for a long moment with a pinched sort of frown that leaves him grimacing.

Noctis watches him go and turns back to Prompto, raising an eyebrow as he takes a full step back, “Who spit in his stew?”

That startles a short laugh out of Prompto and he shakes his head, waving a hand, “ Who knows today? He’s right though, we’ve got work to do! Strip!”

Noctis rolls his eyes but shrugs out of his shirt, comfortable about it now, and takes his usual seat.

“Did you two ever-?”

It takes Prompto a moment but when he gets it he groans and slaps Noctis’ arm, “Technically? For a couple of months, but we didn’t work from the start and I think we only tried it because we have a uh...a shared past, sort of. I dunno? It was weird and the guy is an ass most the time. Now, no more questions I am arting!”

“Is that why it smells weird in here?”

“Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“Make that joke again I will ink a bag of dicks on you.”

When they’re finished it’s late, nearing one in the morning and Prompto’s dead on his feet. It’s good he doesn’t have anything until noon the next day because he can feel the burn behind his eyes as he finishes mopping the floor, Noctis slouching over the waiting couch with his shirt rucked up to let air on his back.

Prompto groans as he pops his back, wheeling the dirty water bucket away and resolving to dump it tomorrow since the floor is still too wet to cross and he doesn’t want to track more than absolutely necessary.

“Doing alright Noct?”

He gets a grunt in response, but he’ll take it. They did a lot of work around Noctis’ spine and upper half of his scar today, finishing some of the geometrics and starting on the detailed spirals that extended up his shoulders. Prompto tries not to feel worried that there’s only one real session left and maybe a touch up.

He double checks he has everything and hums a little as he straightens the flyers by the couch.

“Okay! We can leave now! Thanks for stayin’ Noct.”

“No prob.”

Noctis yawns widely and Prompto shakes his head, he wonders if anyone would believe him if he told them what a sleepyhead the Prince was...probably just his guards.

They head onto the street as Prompto locks the big glass door and presses a small kiss to Noctis’ lips.

“See you soon?”

“I’m taking you home, no arguing.”

Prompto glares at him even as he bounces a little because he really, really liked the car. Noctis seems to pick up on the mild excitement because he smirks, actually fucking smirks.

“C’mon dude.”

Prompto opts not to say a word as Noctis leads him to a car, not the Aston Martin (totally not to his dissappointment, nope) but to a nice, normal mid-sized sedan. He sighs a little and gets in, noting the way Noctis winces as he settles into the seat.

“I probably shouldn’t technically be letting you drive but...the streets are pretty dead so?”

Noctis shrugs and flashes him a grin, “Here they are, not near my place. Guess I’ll have to crash on your couch.”

Prompto tries not to let his mouth hang open, he really does, but he could catch a few flies anyways. He wasn’t going to let Noctis in for Astral’s sake!

“I mean, for my safety.”

Shit. Can’t argue with that he supposes.

“Fiiiine. Not the couch though, you can have the bed! I’ll take the couch, or something.”

Noctis laughs and shakes his head, pulling out, “We can fight about it when we get there. Im too tired to use my words. Directions?”

Prompto’s house is not in a bad part of town, it’s not in a particularly good part either. They park in his little used driveway and he’s especially glad it was a short drive when he notes Noctis’ steps a little less even than usual. Not that he hasn’t noticed the way the Prince favors one side a bit anyways, like he hasn’t realized that the scar is only part of the damage.

He shakes the thought and hurries to let Noctis into the tiny house. It’s enough space for him but he’s sure it’s probably the size of Noctis’ whole bedroom. There’s a small living room, tiny kitchen, single bedroom and a bathroom with a fair sized claw footed tub. It’s what put this place ahead of some of the others, well, that, and the pretty little backyard.

Noctis though doesn’t seem to mind the size, he smiles at the inside, happy colors and posters, Prompto’s drawings scattered around and more photographs pinned to every open surface.

“It’s pretty clean for someone not expecting guests.” Noctis wiggles his eyebrows and Prompto snorts.

“I hate to see what you think messy is dude, I really do.”

Noctis shrugs and whatever he was going to say is cut off by a large yawn and a grumbling noise as he rubs at his cheek.

“Right, uh...bedroom.”

Prompto shows Noctis his room, glad that the bed is made at least. Noctis smiles again at the stuffed chocobo sitting on the bed and Prompto thinks, when they’re more awake, he’ll tell Noctis about some of the shit that means something to him.

As it is, Noctis tugs off his shirt and is reaching for his pants when Prompto coughs, “Uh, let me grab a pillow and blanket and I’ll leave!”

Noctis blinks at him and then nods, still undoing his belt and Prompto hurries to grab what he needs as well as his sleep pants. He sets an extra set on the bed and moves to go back to the couch when Noctis, in only his boxers, catches him.

“Goodnight Prom.” He mutters, pressing a sleepy, sloppy kiss to Prompto’s lips and smiling tiredly.

“Night Noctis.” Prompto answers, watching him stumble to the bed and, in a perfected move, grab the blanket, flop down and burrito himself as a fluid motion.

Prompto’s impressed, but mostly because Noctis is practically snoring when he hits the lights and heads for his fortunately comfy couch.

[chirpingisflirting]

Sleepless nights (ii)

Continuation of this! I have a couple more nights of sleeping difficulty planned for poor Nursey, and eventually the whole thing is going up on ao3. This one got long. And if someone could help me figure out how to make the “keep reading” work for mobile...that would be GREAT - the internet is failing me.

***

Nursey’s bus leaves for Maine at 9:45am from Port Authority, and Nursey finds himself sprinting through the uptown building at 9:40 after initially going to the wrong gate. His duffle bag bounces against his side as he clambers down the escalator, finally arriving at his gate two minutes before the bus is supposed to depart. Panting, he hands his ticket to a very bored-looking driver, and hauls himself onto the bus. He finds a seat near the back, wanting to avoid the inevitable fall on the way to the shitty on-bus bathroom later on. Stowing his bag overhead, Nursey finally drops into his seat and lets out a long breath.

Me: made it :)

Dexyyy: Proud of you.

Dexyyy: What’s your ETA again?

Me: supposed to be around 7:30 I think? Bus takes fucking forever. Stops and shit

Dexyyy: Got it.

The bus leaves five minutes late. Nursey puts his headphones on and stares out of the window at the passing buildings. The bus meanders through the city, lurching through the Thursday mid-morning traffic. Nursey lets his thoughts wander according to the music that is valiantly trying to make a cohesive soundtrack for his life.

30 minutes later and the bus finally trundles out of Manhattan, picking up speed as the traffic lengthens out to create an ever-moving ribbon flying down the road. Nursey’s Spotify is on a metal kick, and he goes to change it to his running playlist, but sees that he has a missed text from Dex.

Dexyyy: Ma wants to know what you want for dinner. I told her about your peanut and tree nut allergies, but I forgot if you like burgers or beef stew more.

Me: mmm stew sounds great but burgers are probably easier

Dexyyy: Okay but which one would you prefer?

Me: oh my god decisionsssss

Me: why do you do this to me

Dexyyy: Nursey just pick a food

Me: ...stew

Dexyyy: Fuck yes

Me: lol

Nursey spends the next three hours alternating between reading Holster’s accounts of his and Ransom’s adventures (which are increasingly entertaining and implausible) as texted to the group chat, scrolling through Instagram (and rolling his eyes at all of the photos posted by his Andover classmates), and staring out at the passing scenery. He eats a quick lunch, gulps down a bottle of water, and naps. He jolts awake when a song from his angsty teenage days blasts through his headphones, and somehow manages to make it to the bathroom and back without faceplanting in the middle of the aisle. Nursey glares at his phone when it tells him that it is only 3:26. Four more hours. Nursey’s butt is going numb.

Me: dexxxxx

Dexyyy: What’s up?

Me: im boreddddd

Dexyyy: Well, I can’t help you with that

Dexyyy: Remind me why you decided to take the bus and not Amtrak? It takes like 6 hours on the train, the bus takes almost 10.

Me: idk

Me: i thought it would be prettier

Me: more whimsical

Dexyyy: Oh my god you’re such a poet

Me: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Dexyyy: NURSEY

Me: tis my name

Dexyyy: Oh my god I can’t believe I willingly invited you to stay with me for a week. What was I thinking???

Me: dunno man

Me: but I’m excited

Me: TO GET OFF THIS BUS

Dexyyy: You suck.

Me: you love me

Dexyyy: Do I

Dexyyy: Do I though

Me: :)

Dexyyy: Anyway

Dexyyy: Ma forgot to get the beef for her beef stew so I have to go get it, I’ll text you in a bit

Me: drive safe!

Dexyyy: I’ll try.

Nursey drops his phone into his lap and tells himself to stop grinning like an idiot. Four more hours until he gets to see Dex, four more hours until what he knows is going to be the best week of his summer, four more hours until he can get off this fucking bus. Spotify chooses to play Sam Cooke’s What a Wonderful World.

Dexyyy: I’m at the store, do you want anything while I’m here?

Me: edibles

Dexyyy: If only

Me: could you get me a few vitamin waters or something?

Dexyyy: The pink ones? Power-C?

Me: yessss

Dexyyy: Ok, will do.

Dexyyy: How’s the ride?

Me: Dex

Me: I am. So. Bored.

Dexyyy: Write something?

Dexyyy: Oh wait, you can’t write in moving vehicles.

Me: yeah :(

Dexyyy: Can’t you type on your phone or something?

Me: idk it doesn’t work as well, I feel like I don’t usually like what I end up writing, you know?

Dexyyy: I guess? Yeah I kinda get it

Three hours later, exhaustion hits Nursey like a truck. Dex texts him to let him know that he’s leaving his house to make the hour-long drive to get Nursey from the bus stop, and Nursey valiantly tries to nap again but he is listless and dehydrated from being on the bus for nine hours. He checks his phone every 15 minutes and each time only five have passed, and the sun seems stuck in place, hovering over the edge of the world but refusing to go down. Time passes slower than when you’re high, and ten times more aggravatingly. But finally, finally, they’re pulling off of the main highway and onto a slower, smaller road, past a small town and coming to a stop in a parking lot, and Nursey can see Dex leaning against his pickup and suddenly his heart is in his mouth. Nursey shoots out of his seat and grabs his things, waddles down the aisle, thanks the bus driver, and trips down the stairs. Dex is laughing at him from where his is standing, and Nursey attempts to flip him off but ends up dropping his duffel and his phone, making Dex laugh harder.

“C’mon Nursey, Ma’s stew is waiting, we don’t have time for you to be a walking mess.”

“Hello to you too, Dex,” Nursey grumbles as he picks up his things.

“Mm. How’s your ass?”

“Still fine as hell.” Dex glares at him. “After sitting on it for that long, I’m surprised it’s not flat.”

“We’ve had roadies that take almost as long to get to.”

“Yeah but when you’re with the team, everything is so much more fun.”

“True.”

Dex starts his car and rolls the windows down. The air is sweet, lighter than what Nursey is used to. He takes a minute to just breathe, getting used to the quiet noise of wheels turning on the tar, the wind rushing past, music drifting quietly out of the car’s speakers. The sun has resumed on its path to give the moon authority, and Dex looks peaceful. They don’t talk for the hour-long ride back to Dex’s house, Dex content to focus on the road, and Nursey content to focus on Dex. He doesn’t know when he first started seeing calm in his defensive partner -- he didn’t think it was possible -- but more and more he’s been seeing Dex as a person rather than a flame. It’s nice. Nursey figures that he must be really, really tired, if he’s allowing himself to think like this.

Meeting Dex’s family, the tour of the house, and dinner passes in a haze for Nursey. He knows the stew was amazing, he knows he is surprised that Dex’s brother doesn’t have red hair, he knows that he is welcomed as a friend of Dex’s but treated only as a guest. He knows that he reverts back to some of his Andover ways (his white-people parent-pleasing ways), and he knows that Dex is frowning at his changed behavior. But Nursey is too tired to deal with anything, and dinner finishes late at nearly 10. Dex pulls Nursey up to his room, where an air mattress has been set up next to Dex’s bed. Dex and Nursey get ready for sleep, switching off in the bathroom in the rhythm they established for roadies, and Dex sets an alarm for 4:30am (“Why, Dex, why.” “I have to work, Nursey. You can sleep in, I’m not expecting your ass to last on a boat for more than five minutes.”) while Nursey smushes his face into his pillow.

It’s not until he turns onto his back that Nursey notices the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted onto the ceiling, and here is another fucking problem. The light from the stars is nothing like the street lamp outside of Nursey’s window at home, and he knows that they will fade out soon, but they are somehow distracting nonetheless. Nursey shifts onto his side, and then flips onto the other, trying not to make too much noise but suddenly unable to get comfortable. After five minutes of waiting to fall asleep, Nursey sits up and stares out into the darkness, sighing deeply.

Dex moves on his bed, and then whisper-shouts, “Nursey, why the hell aren’t you asleep?”

“I don’t fucking know, Dex. I want to go to sleep, it’s not like I’m like, ‘oh yeah, let’s just stay up all fucking night!’”

“Well what the fuck do you need?”

“I dunno!”

“Jesus Christ, I have to be up in six hours, I am not dealing with this,” and then flying out of the darkness comes a pillow, aimed straight at Nursey’s head. He catches it full in the face, and it startles him enough that he flops backwards. Dex chuckles.

“The fuck was that for, man?”

“You always sleep with two pillows, Nurse, and Ma only gave you one. Plus it was really satisfying to throw that at you.”

“Fuck you, Dex. I did not sign up for this.”

“Too bad, Nurse. You can’t get home unless I drive you to the bus stop, so you’re stuck with me until I get sick of you. Or next week, whichever comes first.”

“You don’t think you’ll be sick of me before that?” Nursey asks incredulously.

“Meh, we’ll see. Now go to sleep, Nursey, seriously, before I come knock you out.”

Nursey heaves yet another a put-upon sigh and lays back, sandwiching his head between the two pillows. The top one smells like Dex, and Nursey finds his breathing slowing as he takes in the new but not unfamiliar smell. The star stickers become a distant thought, and Nursey feels himself slowly being swallowed by a welcome sensation -- comfort, his tired mind supplies. Comfort and calm, it says. Dex, it breathes. Nursey falls down, down, down, to sleep.

[gamingofkenna]

beat the main quest of Breath of the Wild. the ‘post-game’ feature (since gameplay after beating the game is exactly the same) is now there’s a little completion percentage on your map page, to tell you how close you are to doing everything that can be done in the world

my percentage immediately starting the game up again was 23.6%. i was WAY overestimating how much of what could be done I had done.

review under the cut (for spoilers)

so about halfway through playing the main quest i suddenly got this idea for this amazing plot twist. essentially we had been told that there were two things necessary to defeat ganon in every time; a hero wielding the sealing sword, and a princess with the blood of the goddess Hylia who inherited her sealing powers (why she needs to specifically be a princess though? who knows). obviously Link is supposed to be the sword-wielder and Zelda the Hylia-descendant, but as we unlock more of Link’s old memories we get some really interesting character development. Zelda has spent her entire life trying to unlock her powers, and failing, and no one can tell why. she starts to doubt her destiny, if theyre doing the right thing, if ganon even can be stopped, if she’s been abandoned by the goddesses, etc etc.

so the obvious solution to that, to me, is a role reversal. im going to say now that the game doesn’t actually do this (i was worried it wouldnt), but there were a ton of hints that Link would end up the ‘princess’ with the sealing power, and Zelda the ‘hero of hyrule’ wielding the master sword. she’s unable to hear the voice of the goddesses even when visiting sacred sights, but playing as Link we can communicate with the goddesses and do quests for them no problem. Zelda can hear the voice of the master sword though (the sacred spirit inhabiting the sword we met in Skyward Sword). the major symbol in the game logo (along with the rusted sword) and throughout the game is the Silent Princess, a rare endangered flower, and yet Zelda’s definitely not silent. Link’s the iconic silent protagonist, however, and though this was the first loz game with voice-acted dialogue, none of Link’s dialogue is heard. theres even the heavily transphobic ‘Link dresses up as a girl’ subplot, and the fact that Zelda has spent the last one hundred years fighting Ganon all on her own, keeping him sealed within the castle until Link could reawaken

so. the game doesnt take this role switch route and im kind of disappointed, because it would have been a great way to reestablish zelda as the actual hero of her series (the development she’s gotten in the last few games has been pretty good, but frankly not enough). but beyond that, the entire ending itself was kind of disappointing? not game ruining, not knock off a star of the 5-star rating disappointing, but... anticlimatic?

theres all this buildup to fight Ganon, you do it, and the fights actually relatively easy (though still pretty epic, I’ve had boring final boss fights and I’ll take easy and incredible over difficult and boring any day). then Zelda’s finally freed and she’s still young for some reason, and Ganon’s not destroyed yet so she does some great magic sealing power (which we saw her finally acces in the very last unlocked flashback) to banish him, the day is saved, the lingering spirits get to move on and we promise to rebuild Hyrule to its former glory and the endangered Silent Princess flower is growing everywhere the end

so cool, nice, but why wasn’t zelda’s power working before? why did it suddenly start working? why was everyone making a big deal about the master sword if it wasnt even important to defeating ganon (who can take him on without it, its just your strongest weapon)?

it strikes me as a very japanese way of telling a story, but Last Guardian was a japanese game and still managed to have an incredibly satisfying ending. even if i hadnt gotten my hopes up for a plot twist, the ending is still just... you beat the villain the day is saved. zelda’s character arc had no conclusion? other than she suddenly managed to access her power... somehow. yay.

im definitely satisfied with the game. gameplay is incredible, exploring the world is fun for its own sake, and theres so much to do, so many people to meet, so many things to discover. Skyrim feels unplayable now that i’ve beat the main quest and most of the major sidequests, but I could log just as many hours on Breath of the Wild and still love it just for the sake of how beautiful this game is. its pretty, and calming if i want it to be, and exciting if i’d rather have that

and the lore of the game is still worthwhile. we’re still trying to figure out where it sits on the timeline, the characters who were introduced were really cool and i love that we got to see a more full characterization of zelda

i just feel like... we got a ton of open doors, lots of nice groundwork, and not as much completed construction, narrative-wise. few of my questions got answered, and open-endings can be great but i dont feel like the characters moved much from where they started

i dont know. id love to hear others reactions to the ending and now that i’ve beaten it i can look them up. i’ll probably be stewing on this for a while anyways

[foursprout-blog]

5 Reasons I’m Glad I Got the Fuck Over Myself and Went To Therapy

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/5-reasons-im-glad-i-got-the-fuck-over-myself-and-went-to-therapy/

5 Reasons I’m Glad I Got the Fuck Over Myself and Went To Therapy

Nitish Meena / Unsplash

I am in good mental health.

Even in my darkest moments, this is what I told myself. The facts seemed to support me. I’d never been diagnosed with a mental illness. I never needed pills to cure anything more than sinusitis. I had a great childhood. I was in control—stable and calm; cool and collected.

Except when I wasn’t. Every now and then, stress would kick my brain into overdrive and I didn’t know how to take back the wheel. I’d feel attacked by bouts of insecurity, helplessness, and anxiety. I’d call my parents in exasperation and then lash out when their words weren’t what I wanted to hear. My remedies were to smoke weed, sleep, and hope that I felt better the next day. I usually did.

I was initially inspired to book a session with a therapist after making a dentist’s appointment. I thought it was basically the same idea. When I told my mom my plan, she asked, “When the psychiatrist asks why you’re there, what are you going to say?”

“That I just wanted to get a check-up on my mental health?” I replied.

“I think you’ll probably have to be more specific than that, sweetie,” she said. And so I shelved the idea.

Several months later, I attempted a personal experiment where I let my friends control my daily routine for a month (another story for another day). I thought I was strong enough to handle losing control of my life. I wasn’t. I quit 22 days in.

That month was like a catfish shuffling through the muck. I felt like a failure, an embarrassment, and a disappointment. Negative self-talk amplified. The clouds blackened. They were always there, but a fortuitous breeze usually whisked them away. But now I didn’t know how to summon the wind.

I finally got the fuck over my “good mental health” and made an appointment with a therapist. I’m so glad I did. Here are 5 reasons why.

1. I learned how to label my emotions.

When someone asks how you are, what do you say? If you’re like me, the answer is usually “good.” Sometimes it’s “fine.” On occasion, it’s “not so great.” And there you go, the three buckets of emotions as I understood them: good, fine, and none of the above.

In one of my first sessions, my therapist showed me a chart with cartoonish faces, each labeled with an emotion. It might sound silly, but that sheet of circular blobs was a revelation. When I was feeling “not so great,” that didn’t necessarily mean “sad.” Sometimes it meant “frustrated,” or “anxious,” or “scared.” And when I was feeling “good,” it didn’t necessarily mean “happy”—sometimes it meant “joyful,” or “loved,” or “excited.” Each provoked different thought patterns and behavior.

Understanding your emotions is a bit like making a stew. Sometimes it smells delicious, and you can see the potatoes, onions, and beef chunks gurgling in harmony. But sometimes something stinks. Before, it was hard to tell if the smell was mustard seed or rotten eggs. But now, I could better identify what brewed in my cauldron.

2. I practiced how to separate emotions from thoughts, facts, and behaviors.

Therapy has many forms. I chose cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), which is grounded in pragmatic analysis of present-day problems. It’s like learning how to rewire your brain.

Before I started, those wires were all jumbled together. If I felt like shit, it was because I was shit, and so I acted like a shithead. I didn’t understand how to separate each part of that equation: it was just shit. A good sleep was the only thing that broke the cycle.

One of the core tools in CBT is a worksheet called the thought log. In it, you take an automatic negative thought, like “I’m a failure,” and unpack it. How does that thought make you feel? (Sad, frustrated, disappointed, upset.) What is the supporting evidence for that thought? (I quit a personal experiment.) What evidence does not support that thought? (I graduated from college; I have a steady job; I won the spelling bee in 4th grade.) Given that, is there a different thought that feels more accurate? (I succeed in most things but bit off more than I could chew with an absurdly difficult experiment.) What feelings are associated with that? (More hopeful, still a little frustrated, a bit confused, but no longer sad). And repeat as necessary.

CBT was the only time I liked doing homework. I practiced the thought log several times a week. Wires started falling into place. I learned just how much negative thoughts influenced how I felt, and how liberating it felt to choose what to think.

3. I learned how to recognize cognitive distortions affecting my behavior.

I think when many think of mental health, they picture white-walled corridors, straitjackets, and cups with little pills in them. I think it’s more like a funhouse with funky mirrors. You’re looking at yourself thinking, “that can’t be me.” And yet, it is you, but your forehead is five times bigger than your torso. “Oh, right, the mirror has a funny shape,” you’ll think, and then you laugh at your gargantuan nose and move on.

Cognitive distortions are like those funky mirrors, but they’re far more sinister. In the clinical sense, cognitive distortions are exaggerated thought patterns which distort reality and feed depression and anxiety.

Take a common one—all or nothing thinking. I did this all the damn time. Ever find yourself saying something like “He never pays attention to me”? Or “I always ruin things”? Boom: cognitive distortion. The situation is rarely that black and white. Chances are, it’s not “always” or “never” because life is rarely that extreme. Usually it’s somewhere in that vast grey area.

Cognitive distortions work because they’re simple and predictable. It’s as seamless as trying on a pair of sunglasses. And once that darkness takes over, logic and reason shut down.

For me, learning to spot them was half the battle. If negative thoughts looped through my head like a broken record, usually it was fueled by a pernicious cognitive distortion. When I unpacked that thought and looked for a cognitive distortion, the spell was often broken.

4. I invested in myself.

Know this now: therapy is not easy. I didn’t find it particularly therapeutic either, at least not like a massage or spa treatment. It can also be expensive—one session ran me $140 an hour. Yes, there are plenty of cheaper (and even free) options. But there’s no question it’s a commitment: with money, time, and emotional wherewithal.

Other than the examples I’ve given, I don’t want to delve into the specifics of each session. What’s shared in therapy should stay private. I will say that in the spectrum of struggles, mine were probably mild. But I still felt like I got in my own way a lot—with friendships and relationships; as a son and a co-worker; as a dreamer and a doer.

In our first session, I set goals for myself. They had to be tangible, like “Develop strategies to keep negative thoughts from ruminating for more than an hour.” I would’ve given my pinkie toe to overcome that one. When to comes to “return on investment,” I can think of few better payoffs than clear thinking.

Sessions in therapy were like signposts on a journey into my brain. Everyone’s journey is different—some longer, more arduous, and fraught with obstacles—and there’s no shame in walking with a guide for as long as you need. After a lot of practice in and out of therapy, I felt like I was sturdy enough to continue on my own. Note that doesn’t make me “cured”—because that’s not how mental health works—just that I felt knowledgeable enough to keep administering the antidote.

Therapy produced such clear dividends. I deconstructed my clock to see what made it tick. I developed a mental health toolbox that I’ll carry with me for life. And now, I actually feel like I’m driving my life as opposed to letting the road drive me.

5. I let go of pride and quelled my fears.

I feel like many think going to therapy is admitting weakness. That it must mean there’s something broken inside. I hate that. It’s like saying lifting weights is for weaklings. The ones that are strongest get their ass to the gym.

But have I always thought that way? Not even close. Why do you think it took me so long to make my first appointment? Therapy was for Zach Braff’s character in Garden State. That dude was messed up. I’m fine.

Yes, there were moments when I was not fine. But that’s just life, right? I didn’t need help to get through life’s ups and downs. I was too proud to work on my mental health.

What a massive irony. We don’t hesitate to sign up for a painting class, but when it comes to understanding the brain, an incredibly complex and precious instrument that humanity has worked for millennia to demystify, we’re all like: “Nah, I got this.”

It’s a ridiculous notion that needs to stop. I know now that hidden beneath my pride was fear. I felt scared that I wouldn’t like what I found when I started looking. I was terrified of friends finding out. If it hadn’t been for the encouragement and acceptance from loved ones, I doubt I would have gathered the strength to go.

I feel loved for having their support. I know many aren’t as lucky. That sucks. I’m frustrated that talking about mental health is still stigmatized. I’m upset that some stereotype therapy as a weakness. And I’m sad that those stigmas and stereotypes turn away those that need therapy most.

And so, here’s my attempt to rewire that thought.

Instead of being ashamed to go to therapy, I’m proud to admit that I don’t have all the answers. I’m proud to ask for help. I’m proud to look my demons in the eye and make them blink. I’m proud to seek mental stability. I’m proud to believe that I can be better.

And if you feel the same? Well then I’m proud of you too.