#it’s take pics of the gang smoking

[messrmoonyy]

Dutch Van Der Linde | Horseshoe Overlook

[ellieswrldd]

whiskey neat

pairing: cowgirl!ellie williams x f!reader

summary: ellie's a gunslinging outlaw who seems to have taken a liking to you, the pretty saloon girl.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, thigh riding, train robbery, set during the 1800s, slightly awkward ellie, reader's 1st time with a woman

a/n: this is my thank u for 800 followers!! pic creds to riverexwren on pinterest 💗

“The necklace, hand it over,”

Your hands trembled with fear as you touched the locket strung around your neck. A shiny revolver was pointed at your nose and left you speechless.

Train robberies weren’t as common as they used to be, the law had grown stronger and outlaws were quickly becoming something of the past. At least that’s what the newspapers said.

Either the papers were wrong or you were just plain unlucky as you sat in the middle of a train robbery.

“I said hand it over,” The man holding the gun demanded, his eyes squinting as he inched the gun closer.

“Leave it, man, head to the front and help break those safes open, we don’t have time for your shit.” Your eyes darted past the barrel of the gun and landed on another masked assailant.

Auburn hair was tucked under a black cowboy hat, a scar running through one of her brows, striking green eyes, and a black bandana that covered the rest of her face. The man rolled his eyes and pushed past the woman, allowing you to find your breath. The woman’s eyes seemed to linger on your face before her brows furrowed and she looked back at the other passengers.

“Everybody stay seated, we’re just gonna take what we need and then we’ll be on our way, got it?” She stated loudly. Her hand rested comfortably on the handle of her gun as she spoke.

The following hour passed in a blur, you sat nervously in your seat as the woman kept watch. After a while, a few men returned and gave the woman a nod, bags of money in their hands.

“We’ve got the stuff, let’s get the hell outta here,” the man from earlier said. The woman looked back at him and nodded. She glanced back in your direction once more before leaving the train with her gang.

Just as soon as they had ridden off, the lawmen arrived. The train was up and running again and the officers went around interviewing the passengers as the train started toward the city. Everyone was rather shaken up but it seemed like there were few casualties, the only deaths being that of a few guards.

The rest of the day you were stuck in a haze, shaken by the robbery. People asked about the details but you simply shook your head and waved them away, it was clear you wanted to forget the whole ordeal.

Weeks passed slowly, spring turned into summer, and you eventually moved on from the train incident. Nothing ever came of it, the assailants were never identified and nobody was able to offer up any useful intel about the robbery so you simply continued on with your life.

You worked as a saloon girl at the local bar which wasn’t the best gig, but it certainly paid well. The busy atmosphere kept you entertained during the night and you were typically free during the days.

Dressed in a vibrant blue gown you sauntered around the bar, refilling drinks and sweet-talking some of the men, nothing you weren’t used to. As you made your rounds, you caught sight of someone who piqued your interest. She sat by herself at a small round table near the corner of the room.

Other than the saloon gals, women didn’t frequent the joint often so you always felt curious when you spotted a female patron. Something about this lady in particular seemed familiar despite the fact you couldn’t recall ever meeting someone like her. With that short, reddish hair she’d be hard to miss for certain, so why was she so familiar?

“You look like you could use a refill,” You smiled at her as you approached, a hand on your hip. She looked up at you and pulled her cigarette from her lips. After exhaling the smoke away from you, the girl sat up a little straighter and shrugged.

“Guess I could, or maybe I could just use some company.” Her voice was a bit raspy but it sounded like sweet honey to your ears. She passed you her empty glass and took another drag from her cigarette. “Whiskey, neat,”

You giggled and took the glass. You stepped away to refill the glass before returning to her table. She cracked a charming smile and nodded toward the seat beside her as she took the glass from your hands.

“Why have I never met you before? Passing through town?” You asked as you slid into the chair next to her. The girl tapped her fingers on her glass cup.

“Something like that. I’m not from ‘round here.” She took a drag from her cigarette and made sure to blow the smoke away from your direction.

“You seem awfully familiar, are you sure we’ve never crossed paths?”

“I doubt it,” She paused for a moment before speaking again. “I think I’d remember a pretty face like yours,”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you smiled. “Flattery won’t get you free drinks, miss…?” You trailed off, waiting for her to finish your sentence.

“Williams, but you can call me Ellie.”

The conversation between you two flowed easily, even with Ellie’s flirtatious banter. As it neared midnight you noticed the people begin to return home, of course, a few drunkards still milling about inside.

“I better go,” You said quietly, glancing at the door. Ellie bit her cheek and nodded. She threw back the remaining alcohol she had in her cup and stood up.

“Let me walk you home, it’s not safe for a pretty lady to walk home alone.” You laughed and rolled your eyes when you saw her outstretched hand.

“I assure you I am no lady,” You took her hand and stood up. Ellie chuckled and shook her head.

“Lead the way,”

You didn’t live too far from the saloon and for once you wished the walk was longer. Maybe it was stupid of you to get involved with someone who clearly didn’t plan on sticking around for long, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

“I like that necklace of yours, it’s real nice,” Ellie commented, her eyes gazing at the locket, then falling a bit lower to the low cut of your bodice.

Politely, you thanked her and continued speaking, but something inside of you was stuck on her comment.

It was then that you finally realized exactly who she was and why you remembered her. The intriguing gunslinger who couldn’t keep her eyes off you while her partners robbed a train was the very same woman walking you home.

As you stopped in front of your door, you turned to Ellie.

“Ellie, I need to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me.”

The other girl looked confused but nodded.

“It was you on that train, wasn’t it?”

She stared at you silently for a second, her mouth slightly agape, it was as if she was trying to think of the right response.

“Be honest with me please,” You sighed. “I know we just met, but I like you and I like your company, and I want to know who I’m talkin’ to. I’m surely not pure, I’ve done bad things too, I swear I would never tell—” You rambled on before Ellie interrupted you.

“Yes, that was me.” Her voice was a raspy mumble, and her eyes were focused on her dusty boots.

“Okay,” The words escaped you as a whisper and suddenly you realized how nervous you felt. The nerves could be partially attributed to the fact you had confirmed your suspicions, but you knew they were because of something more.

“I wouldn’t hurt you, I hope you know that—”

“Do you want to come inside?”

Ellie bit her lip and nodded, a small smile forming on her face. She followed you inside while she tried her best to conceal the stupid smile that was pulling at her cheeks. You watched as she slipped her heavy jacket off and hung it on the coat hanger, and you inhaled when you saw the shine of her revolver tucked into her pants.

“You’re lookin’ at my gun,” She stated and followed your gaze. “I can put it away or something if it scares you,”

You simply shook your head and ran your hands down the front of your skirt. “I’m not scared,”

“Okay then,”

The tension between the two of you seemed to fill the entire room and you couldn’t seem to look Ellie in the eyes.

“Maybe I ought to go,” Ellie murmured. It was evident that neither of you wanted that, the way she was inching closer to you certainly confirmed that.

“Maybe you ought to stay,” You looked up and finally made eye contact with her. “You make me so…” You trailed off quietly as you looked down at her lips and registered how close she was.

“So what?” Her hand reached out and gently brushed against your wrist.

“…Nervous,” You breathed. It seemed like your lips were only mere inches apart.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

Ellie ran her fingers up your bare arm slowly before gently cupping your cheek.

“Don’t toy with me,” You mutter and Ellie laughed softly. She pulled you in and kissed you softly, her lips molding against yours.

The kiss was everything you needed. It was passionate and messy and perfect. You had never done anything like this with another woman before and it scared you, but Ellie’s lips moved so sweetly that it made you forget all of your worries.

It wasn’t long until the kiss turned from sweet to fiery with Ellie’s tongue sliding against your own and her hands traveling down your back. A soft moan escaped your lips when Ellie squeezed your hips gently.

“God, you’re so— you make me—” Ellie breathed heavily and buried her face in your exposed neck, her lips moving hungrily against your skin. Your hands traveled to her hair as she sucked and nipped at your neck.

“Ellie,” You panted her name and tugged her hair gently until she pulled away.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong?” She muttered, brows furrowed.

“No! No, I loved that, I just— I’ve never done this before, not with a woman I mean,” Her hands remained on your hips as you spoke.

“I-I’ll help you, I don’t mind,” Ellie’s cheeks turned pink and she pulled you close again. “Should we go to your bedroom..?” She asked.

You nodded and intertwined your fingers with hers before leading her to your room. It wasn’t much but it was homey, charming even.

Ellie wasted no time to kiss you again, this time her hands moved presumptuously across your body. From sliding across your torso and chest to squeezing your ass through the delicate fabrics of your dress, Ellie’s movements only grew bolder with your responses.

Slowly, Ellie tugged the skirt of your dress up, revealing your skin inch by inch.

“Take it off me,” You whispered. And so she did, untying your corset like her life depended on it and carefully lifting the dress above your head, so as not to stretch anything. Then, finally, you stood before her completely bare.

“You are so beautiful,” She said, her eyes glued to the curves and shape of your body. You reached out and unbuttoned her shirt slowly but surely. Ellie’s breathing seemed to deepen as you moved lower, the curves of her small breasts now visible as you undid the last few buttons. Then, you took her gun from her waistband and set it on your nightstand for safekeeping.

Your hands found their way to the button of her pants next, shakily undoing them as she watched you intently. She kicked her pants off along with her undergarments and was completely nude.

“Show me what to do,” You met her eyes and waited for her to guide you. Her hands found yours and grabbed your wrists, moving your hands to her breasts.

“Touch me here,” She instructed. Ellie took in a sharp breath when you rolled her nipples between your fingers, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Th-that's good, yeah,”

“What else?”

She bit her lip and took one of your hands, moving it to cup her cunt.

“You feel that? How wet I am?” You nodded quickly. “It’s because of you, because of how bad I want you,”

“M-Me too,” You stammered, suddenly aware of the wet heat in between your legs.

“Lay down, I’ll take care of you,” Ellie smiled and stood over you as you lay on your bed. Crawling on top of you, Ellie kissed you sweetly a few times before she moved lower and latched her mouth onto your nipple. Her tongue swirled around your stiff nipples, drawing out needy whining from you.

Her fingers began to slowly rub your puffy clit in lazy circles while she kept your legs spread. She wanted nothing more than to fuck you in every way possible, rough and fast, but she knew you needed something slow right now, something caring and gentle to get you started.

Ellie kissed and licked and suckled across your tits, a trail of hickeys and saliva all over your chest.

“Ellie,” You whined and squirmed beneath her. She was moving so slowly and it was nice, but you were so needy and you couldn’t take the teasing.

“I know, just– hold on,” She pulled away and moved to sit against the headboard of the bed. “Come here,” Ellie reached her hand out to you. You sat up and crawled over to her, sitting in her lap as she pulled you on top of her.

Ellie spread her legs out and cleared her throat. “Sit on my thigh,” You followed her instruction and straddled her thigh, one of your thighs on each side. “Yeah, just like that,” In this position, you could feel the heat of her skin against your entire pussy.

“What do I do?” You murmur, glancing down and back up at her.

“Put your hands here,” She placed your hands on her shoulders. “And just rock back and forth, slowly,” She inhaled deeply as you did what she said and you started grinding yourself against her thigh. Ellie’s hands found their way to your thighs and she squeezed your soft skin.

Low moans and whimpers came from your wet lips while you rubbed yourself against her. As you moved back and forth, you had begun to push your knee against Ellie’s clit just enough for her to feel a delicious friction.

“N-Now you can speed up, you’re doing so well,” She panted and gazed at you with half-lidded eyes. Her hands slid up from your thighs to your hips where she helped roll your hips a bit faster and harder against her thigh. Ellie had also begun to grind her clit against your knee, moaning your name as she too chased the pleasure.

By now her thigh was covered in your juices, shining in the moonlight that poured through your windows. Ellie listened as your moans grew higher and louder, and took that as a sign that you were nearing your climax.

Everything was sloppy and messy, but it was the best feeling you’d ever experienced. Your two bodies moving together sensually, both of you craving and chasing orgasm, your skin on hers.

Soon enough, both you and Ellie were crying out and shaking while you were overcome with pleasure. You fell limp against her and her arms encircled you.

The room was silent with the only sounds being you and Ellie’s breathing.

“That was—” You sighed.

“Yeah,” Ellie laughed softly and rubbed your back. “You did good,”

“You think so?” You ran a finger along her collarbone.

“I know so,” She gave you a smile. “You ought to get some rest, it’s late,” Ellie kissed your cheek.

“Only if you promise not to run off?”

“Okay, I promise,” She whispered. You pulled the bedsheets over your bodies and settled down for the night.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed. You frowned and turned to the other side of the bed. Ellie stood by your window, a cigarette in hand as she blew the smoke through the opened window.

“Good morning,” She said when she turned her head to look at you.

As you looked at her your head raced with wild dreams and ideas, things you wish you could say and do, but you simply smiled at her and watched Ellie take another drag of her cigarette.

You would never be allowed to be with Ellie publicly, homosexuality was a sin in the eyes of society. Not to mention, Ellie Williams was an outlaw.

What you had done with her was wrong, so so wrong, and yet you couldn’t help but yearn for more.

[gaybae1021]

Well since my bachelorette designs were received so well, I decided to complete the marriage set! Here’s my bachelors!

Individual pics and thought processes under the cut:

I’m drawing these from the perspective of how they’d look on day 1, but I’d definitely like to do a post-Joja higher heart design for Shane at some point. Overall for this one I just tried to make him look unkempt and dull, I desaturated his skin tone to make him look sickly and he’s the only one without eye shines, signifying how he’s lost the spark for life.

Also sorry about the socks and Birkenstocks.

Decided to make Alex mixed, since there’s absolutely no diversity in the bachelors. Had a lot of fun translating his canon hairstyle into those short locs. Other than that the biggest change was turning his jacket into a proper varsity jacket. Short Alex gang unite!

Okay sorry Haley, Elliot takes the win for the most changed design. Like it’s so obvious he’s meant to have a Victorian jacket and fancy trousers and all that, but after I drew him all tall and slender and I gave him little braids and beach waves he just started taking on a Boho vibe? When I drew the jacket it just looked tight and restrictive. So I decided to let the beach influence carry and we ended up with this fancy yet comfy loungewear with sandals. And I love him?

Also this was heavily inspired by ginjaninjaowo’s male espeon design

Sebastian was honestly a pain, like I know his design plays off the emo teen archetype, but compared to the others npcs he’s actually got a lot of variety. Like he’s obviously got some emo influence, but there’s also some nerd thanks to his interest in coding and ttrpgs, and he’s also a bit of a tough guy with the bike and the smoking. So there were a lot of directions to lean. Still, his sprite is clearly going for a dark hoodie and dark jeans, so I didn’t think I could change it up without making it not feel like Sebby. Does he have a muscle tee underneath for working on the bike? I’ll never say.

Biggest change is probably the hair, just wanted something less stereotypical, and have some variety in bachelor hair length. Definitely leans into the biker side a bit lol. Otherwise I just tried add detail to his dark outfit and adorn it with his interests. So frog embroidery on his shoes, a patch on his jacket and some motor oil stains on his hoodie. Also as promised he and Maru have matching dimples.

Also happy pride month, enjoy trans Sebastian and also the head canon that he and Sam start dating provided the farmer doesn’t get there first lol.

And with Sam the ASS trio is complete! Now with matching chokers because I said so.

Just like with Sebby I wasn’t sure which direction to go for Sam, whether to lean more into skater boy or rockstar. Ultimately he ended up more rockstar, though he’s still always roughed up from skating (probably because he refuses to take off the platform boots). He thinks the torn clothes make him look more legit though.

I had fun making his shape language compliment Sebby; he’s very top heavy from the giant hoodie so I made Sam bottom heavy with the baggy jeans and jacket. Also I had so many thoughts about him and Kent, given that Sam and Sebby are a thing and Sam isnt exactly gender conforming.

And last but not least, Harvey. He’s sweet, he’s simple, all his heart events are charming. And yet he is always the last one I reach max hearts with because I can’t be bothered to go to the doctors office. Sorry bby, I hope I can make it up to you by designing you as an adorable cherub of a man.

I know I’m being super controversial, giving him a pushbroom mustache when the sprite is obviously a handlebar /s. But like, he’s such a square; it fits him so well. My little lawful good guy.

Ya know, I think I gave him a sweater so Elliot’s jacket would stand out, then proceeded to not give Elliot his jacket. Huh.

Anyway bonus of the boyfriends together to close us out, thanks for reading!

[via-l0ve]

Could I request general two-bit and dallas (seperate) smut headcannons if that's okay ^^

a/n: I LOVE HEADCANNONS!!! you ask and i shall deliver. 🫶🏻

warnings: honestly just pure smut. Random gen. headcannons of Two-Bit and Dallas in bed! smut is under the cut. you’ve been warned!

Two-Bit Mathews:

def has a thing for mutual masturbation

i feel like he says stuff like “my pretty little slut.” or “Taking me so well, baby girl/boy”

sometimes if he’s just so desperate for a fuck and he dosent have a lot of patience he’ll just slide your panties to the side and pound into you

drunk sex happens because my boy is SO touchy when he’s drunk :((

i feel like he’s lowkey into cockwarming

“jus’ slide it in baby.. oh fuck.. jus’ like that.”

moaning in ur mouth when you guys are making out 😩

did someone say hair pulling kink bc i heard it

if he’s giving you head and you pull his hair-

he’s making you cum like 4 times. sorry bb

will almost get you to cum and then stop and you gotta beg the man to keep goin

likes missionary and when you ride him

he likes doing it in cars 🤷‍♀️

i feel like he’d literally brag to Steve about it💀 but if that was something you were uncomfy with he would stop when he knew

i feel like he’s down to try just about anything tbh

he takes aftercare seriously and always wants you to get a drink of water

he seems like the type to doordash food afterwards or take you to a drive in and you guys just eat and chill

but he also loves to just cuddle and hold ya afterwards.

says “i love you” a LOT

I feel like he wants to know he’s doing good

DIRTY TALK.

“so good for me baby. taking my cock like this. fuck.. what a good girl/boy.”

“y’feel so good on my cock… i can never get enough of ya.”

Dallas Winston:

Spit kink !

spits on his fingers before driving them into you or will make you taste yourself on his fingers afterwards.

if you’re giving him head and you gag around his cock - his soul will ascend to the heavens

throat fucking you is like heaven to Dallas

LOVES teasing you in front of the guys without them knowing

you both cuddling under blankets and talking to the gang while he rubs your clit and fingers you

“you gotta keep quiet, doll. cant have them knowin’ what were doin’, huh?”

calls you a lot of nicknames

loves it when you moan his name

he loves cumming inside you or on your chest

whether you have big tits or a flatter chest, whether you’re male or female, dosent matter. Dallas will finish on your chest and he will take a mental photo of what that looks like to jack off to.

BEGS you to take pics in lingerie (or nude) so he can have ‘em to jerk off to if you’re not there.

bondage kink too

i think he’d like to restrict you to a bedpost and throat fuck you or have you suck his cock while he’s all tied up <3

he’d be willing to sub but he would rather be a dom

He would sub on some days though

if you’re into smoking weed i can imagine high sex happening

he’d never force you into stuff

Feelin like he’s got a little slapping kink

slaps your ass or your face (gently, and with consent!!) when you’re going rough

OVERSTIM.

he gets hard from js thinking about overstimulating you until you’re a crying mess, begging for a release.

“no, not yet baby. i know you can take one more. one more for me, yeah?”

multiple orgasms

he can be gentle if that’s what you want but i think he def likes to go rough a lot too.

he does aftercare, makes sure you’re hydrated and comfortable but saves most of the talking for the morning after.

i also feel like he’d take your panties off with his teeth 🤭

[homochampagne]

quinn’s in love and death stream summary: all of the lore

he described the way bert’s voice sounds towards the ending of i caught fire as “cute and sweet”

he said he has synesthesia and gave us a color for a lot of the songs. the only ones i remember are: i caught fire is red and yesterdays feelings is green

at the beginning of yesterdays feelings, quinn’s voice can be heard saying “creaks and cracks”. it turns out he was talking about a really old guitar he was playing that wasn’t very good for recording because it made noises as you played

regarding the meaning of yesterdays feelings, quinn said he couldn’t describe it.

a lot of the songs on this album were from ideas quinn came up with. he said he did background vocals on about 75% of the songs

light with a sharpened edge was a title bert came up with, quinn said he really liked that title

in 2004, while the used was working on in love and death and mcr was working on revenge, the two bands lived in the same apartment building in la and would hang out a lot. gerard would come over to quinn’s place and quinn told a story about gerard playing 3 songs from revenge for quinn in his bedroom. quinn said he remembered thinking revenge sounded very cohesive and in love and death was a lot different; it was kind of all over the place and he worried it was too pop and that they were getting too far away from the used’s original sound. he played some songs for gerard as well

quinn talked really positively about mcr, he described them as having a “vampire motorcycle gang” aesthetic back in the day. around 2003 i believe the used took mcr on tour in europe with them; quinn said he’d often film them/take pics of them from the side stage, at one point he was thinking about maybe making a music video for them of liveshow clips but that never happened. he remembers being sure that mcr would become a really huge band (they were still in bullets era at this time)

in 2004 during the writing and recording of in love and death quinn was doing mushrooms and smoking weed and he was reading a lot of philosophy books. i forget the authors name, but chapter 8 of a book he was reading that was about transferring the perspectives/teachings of eastern philosophy into a western lens was called “how to be a genuine fake”. at this time, tensions between him and bert were high, they were butting heads a lot and quinn was sick of his behaviour. he noted how bert would act around people/treat people completely differently; he’d be great to some people and horrible to others. in quinn’s room at the apartment, he handed bert the philosophy book opened to the “how to be a genuine fake” chapter and told him to read it. bert read one page and then threw it on the bed and was like “whatever”. a few days later, bert had written lyrics to a song and said it was titled “i’m a fake”

someone asked about blue and yellow and he said “yes that song’s about me”; he gave us the exact meaning of the “your hands were shaking” line. feldy and bert have both told a story about how during the recording of the first album, bert disappeared for ~2 weeks. bert said he met some girl and was gonna quit the band and whatever. (<- when he’s talking about blue and yellow in that interview, it’s one of those half-truths where like, it did happen, yes, but it’s like the irrelevant part of the larger story, which he obvs doesn’t want to talk about now. gina is a convenient fake inspiration. this section of this interview is so eyeroll inducing because he literally admits to lying about the song in the kirsten dunst part. bert has talked about quinn being the subject of blue and yellow so many times; i have very thorough citations & proof for all of the blue and yellow stuff in my fic masterguide). REGARDLESS, when bert finally showed up at feldy’s again, quinn said that he was so mad and upset that his hands were shaking. (when i say disappeared i mean DISAPPEARED like they couldn’t contact him at all). quinn said that feldy just hugged bert and was like “you can’t do that”. quinn said that at times, feldy was kind of like their dad.

as we all know, all that i’ve got is about bert’s dog david bowie that passed away by getting hit by a car, which in some roundabout way was due to the wrong plane ticket being booked for him meaning he couldn’t take bowie, so he left him with someone who was going to drive him out to wherever the band was heading. quinn said that the line “so deep that it didn’t even bleed” is a reference to the phonecall bert received from his dad who broke the news to him that bowie died, saying “it was quick, there wasn’t even any blood”

the line “i couldn’t come/you couldn’t come” in cut up angels means cum, like orgasm

sound effects and overdramatics is about sex, relationships, and drugs/addiction

feldy told quinn to listen to the beatles entire discography around this time, which he did. he said that there were definitely beatles and nirvana influences on this album. he specifically mentioned territorial pissings, and he mentioned playing a beatles riff backwards on one of the songs but i can’t remember which one :( sorry

quinn likes thursday, and he listened to full collapse a lot

when asked, he said he likes fall out boy

he still talks to mikey sometimes

someone asked if his kids know the used songs and he basically said no, and then he started talking about how his son says “skibidi” and “rizz” and “ohio” and “brainrot” and he like knew all of the lingo???? NDSJSKAKKS and then he was like “back in my day the cringe stuff we would quote was pauly shore” (i’m paraphrasing) and then he did a pauly shore impression

off-tour he would just live out of his backpack, and he rented a spare bedroom at his friends house (im assuming this was like late 2002-early 2004 because in summer 2004 they had the la apartment). he built a bed out of bricks with planks of wood on top. (……this info combined with him just sleeping on the floor of his bedroom at his parents place because there was no bed makes me think he was just used to sleeping on hard surfaces????)

he confirmed that hard to say is about kate, bert’s girlfriend who passed away during the recording of in love and death. it was a song that was added in right at the end of recording and they weren’t sure if they would keep it in. quinn said that he and his family were close to kate, because back at the beginning of the band when bert joined and quinn said he could move in with him, kate lived with them for a period of time too. quinn said that bert and kate were recovering addicts and that he left home for a while at this point because they were staying in his bedroom and sometimes it was “hard to be around them”. we know for sure that quinn sometimes did stay there with bert, because of the whole story where they were sleeping on his bedroom floor together when feldy called from norway in the summer of 2001 and blah blah blah (which he told on branden’s podcast)

towards the end of the recording of in love and death, quinn said that he and bert were not speaking to each other. finding album cover artwork became his responsibility, quinn found alex pardee and basically organized/chose all of the album artwork working with alex (who was the artist)

because we would never figure it out, he told us a secret about ocean of the sky. put on the film 2001: a space odyssey, skip to 20 minutes and 1 second from the ending and play the song tethys and it’s supposed to line up exactly to what happens on-screen. he was inspired by those rumors that you could do the same thing with the original wizard of oz and pink floyd’s dark side of the moon. the guys had been talking about 2001: a space odyssey in regards to ocean of the sky, the “ocean of the sky” meaning outer space. he said he created the song tethys in one sitting, from 9pm - 6am and his computer crashed twice. he digitally mixed it and then sent it off at 9am that morning and that was the last song on that ep.

quinn said that he’s happy bert’s sober now, but it’s “too little, too late” (his exact words)

he confirmed that bert’s struggle with addiction and his behaviour for the majority of the time quinn was in the band was what lead to quinn’s departure. it was draining, exhausting, and the 23 hours a day that they were not on stage was a “nightmare”. he says very confidently that he’s happier now. (side note: if you haven’t listened to this interview with bert about addiction/sobriety i think you should, because he gives details regarding the severity of what was happening. tw: discussion of self-harm)

when asked if there’s any chance he’ll ever play a show with the used again, he said “no”

re: the band and quinn’s frustrations about bert, quinn said he found himself “sitting on his hands” (exact words) a lot of the time and just going along with whatever was happening because he had no other means of enacting change that would actually work (paraphrased). he used a really good metaphor of letting bert “drive”, but quinn would always have “one hand on the wheel”… i feel like that’s self-explanatory

during part of this section of the stream, he got emotional and teary-eyed and said that some of it is hard to talk about

regarding some of the meaning behind quinn’s song i digress, quinn said that it’s about the difficult experience of trying to help a friend who struggles with severe depression and persistent suicidal thoughts, and how he felt that all of his efforts were futile. this seemed to be a recent experience of his. he also spoke about a similarity between this situation and being in the band, which he described as very negative and emotionally taxing when you continually try to help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves. for his emotional wellbeing he needed to step away (in both situations). he also clarified that the lyric is “i’m hanging by your thread” which i got wrong in my transcription. he compared the “i’m hanging by your thread” line to the heart noose.

quinn showed us the physical prototype for his book which is completely finished. he is hopeful that pre-orders will be available in mid-october through kickstarter, he is planning to make a signed book and cassette tape ep bundle which he wants us to receive before christmas (this is all tentative).

he is apparently filming a music video for his second single today (yesterday he spent building the set for it). physical versions of his ep will only be available in cassette tape form because that’s what he grew up with, he likes that they’re small and easy to display

the book has A LOT of exclusive photos in it. he showed us some pages of the book. he said that he started writing it/working on it back when he left the band as a therapeutic, cathartic hobby. aside from the written chapters, there are a lot of pages he created in photoshop that have photo collages that he would draw little pictures on and organize. he said he would work on this to process his emotions, he would cry and let himself feel angry or upset, but it ended up being a very healing project

someone mentioned that they gave him a scrapbook in 2012 (he remembered it) and he said that he still has all of the stuff that the fans gave him/the band. he would box all of it up after their tours and ship it to his house. some of this fan stuff is featured in the book

he really enjoyed the stream and he will likely do another one sometime in the near future (no date is set yet). he’d like to do a listening party for the first album and talk about the songs/behind the scenes lore like he did for this one. he’d also be open to doing a stream just about guitars. people were requesting for him to put out official guitar tabs for the used songs and he said he’ll definitely work on it now that he knows there is interest

he had literally stacks of old photos and showed us some of them which i’ll make a separate post for. at one point he was like “ohhh i can’t show you those” and skipped through a bunch which is just the most infuriatingly intriguing thing like…… i can only imagine.

this was all just written from memory bc for some insane reason recording desktop audio on obs if you have a mac is literally impossible which is crazy in 2024 but regardless i think the livestreams are more special if they aren’t recorded because you have to be there to witness it. i got the vibe that he doesn’t want them to be saved (he said “i can’t” but that’s not true), so instead of asking him in chat next time and you really really want to save it, just record it for your own personal viewing and keep it on the down low. (i’m not telling anyone what to do but i feel like re-uploading to youtube would be against his wishes (he never said this, it’s just my inference)).

if anyone who watched feels like i missed a crucial piece of lore, feel free to add XD

[kat-mewmew2001]

'Tis the season…..for wintery 4*Town content. I’ve been busy with Uni so don’t mind how sketchy these all look but I’ve been itching to draw these boys again :)))

Its a bit all over the place so I’ll walk you through it

So at the top we have Jesse smoking because that’s a hc of mine for some reason 🤷‍♀️ It’s a bad habit of his, he’s not proud of it and he tries to keep it hidden from the others

He’s unfortunately caught by Tae one time and have a bit of a talk about stress, expectations and Jesse does feel better afterwards

Then on the right we have the gang huddled outside, waiting for their tour bus in the cold. And I’m not from Canada but I know winters are brutal over there so I drew them all in matching puffer coats to keep warm because of course I would :)

And Tae is wearing a fluffy pink faux fur hat because that just makes sense ☝️

Furthermore he’s taking care of his doves and cuddling them in their pen he had built, even when it’s freezing cold. Poor guy fell asleep and had the others worried sick looking for him.

He caught a cold the day after but is luckily coddled by his bandmates (as he should be)

And another hc of mine is that Jesse is an insomniac so he gets tired during the day and leans on the others to rest for a little bit

Last but not least we have Tae and Aaron T. building a red panda snowman in honor of the unforgettable night they all had performing in Toronto 🐾

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.

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The full pics btw👇

Thats all for now folks, I could make up cute scenarios that are vaguely winter themed for hours but I’ll leave it at that for now byeee 👋

[sir-walton-goggins]

All That Matters

4.312 words

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

tw: graphic torture, canon-typical depictions of violence and gore

credit for the header as always goes to the lovely @raevennsge, Arthur pic credit is mine

“Where is Arthur."

Kris’s heart sank into her stomach, burning through it like a hot ball of lead.

Dutch and Micah rode back into camp.

Something was off.

"Where. Is. Arthur" she gritted through her teeth.

"He didn't meet us at the fork in the road." Micah replied.

She ignored him, not being able to shake the horrible feeling that her husband was in danger. 

Dutch's pleas went ignored as Kris wielded a rifle on her right shoulder and jumped onto her mare, Cloud. The woman’s ears were buzzing, heart beating in her ears like a mad drum, vision focused only on the stretch of road in front of her. One thought on her mind:

“I need to save him.”

Hosea watched her silently from his cot, book open on his lap ignored, bowing his head silently.

"Dutch, I told you it was a trap."

Lately his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Not to Kris, though. She practically had begged Arthur to stay. But he was still Dutch's shadow, and as pulled by an invisible thread, or rather, an invisible noose, he followed along.

The mind of the gang followed her horse galloping away, eyebrows knitted into a worried expression. His son was in danger.

"Dutch, we need to go get him!"

The leader opened his mouth to speak, but the mustached gunslinger preceded him.

"Oh, old man, let's not get ahead of ourselves!" He approached, hands in the air in a ridiculous attempt to look harmless.

"Arthur is just fine. He's probably out gallivanting and rolling around in the dirt like he usually does" he grinned. He never let the opportunity to make fun of him go to waste.

"That girl is gonna get herself killed, for Christ's sake!" Hosea snapped, begging Dutch to listen.

The wanted man took a long drag of his cigar, his eyes shifting in conflict. Hosea stared at him like he lost his damn mind. Where did his determined and protective partner in crime go? He was somewhere behind those brown eyes, he knew it. But he was fighting a battle unbeknownst to anyone in the gang, even to him, who knew him so well. Or, at least, he thought as much.

"He'll be back" was the leader's lapidary statement. Cigar smoke engulfed Hosea’s face, making him cough repeatedly.

The evening was turning windy, making Kris's eyes water and she wondered if she was actually crying. She felt out of control, like everything she had was slipping away from her hands with every second Arthur was away from her. The horse sped up, the woman bouncing rhythmically on the saddle, reins in one hand, the other wiping some tears away from her face.

"Please, Arthur, be alive" she repeated, mumbling the words like a prayer.

She rode to the spot where the three men had met Colm O' Driscoll, pistol drawn and ready to fire. But the place was deserted, if not for a single lost deer wandering the plains. The prey animal lifted its head up to stare at Kris with its big doe eyes. Staring back, she saw Arthur’s own eyes, the words he left her with before disappearing resounding in her head.

“I’ll be just fine, darlin’.” He hid his nervousness behind a sweet smile, crinkles around the ocean eyes she so bitterly missed. He knew something was off, she had sensed it.

‘Should’ve never let him go.’

The woman put her revolver back in its holster and examined her surroundings. She closed her eyes, trying to picture the events of earlier that day: the three men dismounting, the plan taking shape, Arthur’s role in it. Since he was called on missions either for protection or intimidation, Kris assumed he was ordered to protect Dutch and Micah from afar, since they could never trust a dirty snake like the O’Driscoll leader. He was the best shot between them, after all. Mrs. Morgan’s eyes landed on a nearby hill: jackpot. Perfect place for a sniper.

The sandy dirt of the hill had hoof marks imprinted in it, so she eagerly followed them to the top, watching her back the whole time. She feared another ambush from the Irish bastards. Yes, 'cause it had to have been an ambush. The O'Driscolls would never offer a parley. How did she know? Because Colm was a vindictive piece of shit. Eye for an eye. His brother for Annabelle. He wasn’t gonna stop there.

It was starting to get dark, the pink horizon steadily drowning in shadows, entirely swallowed up in blue and black. The view from the high ground was hauntingly beautiful, but Kris felt a heavy presence nearby and a cold gust blowing through her heart. The new moon rendered the night sky even more sinister and pitch black. She took out her lantern and turned the knob to light it up. As soon as she did, a murder of crows rushed menacingly over her head, spooking her. They were heading north. She followed their trajectory: it led her straight to the warm light of a campfire in the distance.

Kris Morgan released a shaky breath; Arthur had to be there. He had to.

‘Please, don’t let the crows be a bad omen.’ 

“He’s alive, he’s alive” she whispered, trying to build up her courage and not give in to despair. Arthur needed her, there was no time for weakness.

She pointed the oil lamp to the ground, examining it closely. There were signs of a struggle, a big hollow mark dragged out and several foot prints all over it. The depression was large enough to have been made by a man about Arthur’s size. The woman’s breath sped up, her chest hurting at the thought of his darling being knocked unconscious and overpowered. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to: Arthur Morgan was as strong as an ox, he was the one who incapacitated others. Imagining him vulnerable made her stomach knot into himself tightly, leaving her out of breath.

She shook away the thought and resumed her inspection. The dirt was smooth where the body was being dragged away, leading downhill on the opposite side. Kris followed it down to the base of the hilltop, where the marks stopped.

Noticing the open nature of the cliff, it was plain to her that Micah had only brought Arthur to have him kidnapped. Her husband was probably so focused on protecting him and Dutch that his back was left completely exposed to attacks. The mere thought of this being staged filled Kris with murderous rage. Oh, when she returned back to camp, there would have been hell to pay.  And she wasn’t coming back empty handed, no fucking chance. 

Desperately trying to keep her emotions at bay, Kris sneaked towards the camp up ahead. But first, she called her mare over.

“Stay, Cloud” she commanded, taking her rifle from the saddle.

She was like a cat, quick and nimble, her dark hair blending into the dark landscape perfectly.  She stopped behind a big boulder and scoured the area with her binoculars:

A few tents, a wooden shed, doors to an underground basement and a single campfire. Luckily, it seemed to be a small camp. She could handle it.

“Dumb bastards gonna regret their choices very soon” she thought, murder on her mind, gripping the binoculars harder.

All seemed quiet, apart from two drunken bastards laughing their heads off by the shed, checking some guns that looked vaguely familiar and playfully pointing them at each other, making shooting sounds with their mouths. Kris zoomed into one of the weapons and exhaled rapidly. She recognized the engravings on the grip: those were Arthur’s pistols.

“He has to be here” her mind consoled her. At least she found him. But where did they keep him?

She didn’t have to wait long for the answer: as soon as she thought it, two men slammed the basement door open and emerged dragging a large feller forward.

“Arthur!” she almost screamed, but it came out choked and painful. She wanted to run over, kill the two bastards point blank, fire at the drunkards by the shed and just be done with it. But she had to be smart about this. She didn’t want her husband to pay the price for her stupidity.

She followed his steps through the binoculars. God, he looked rough: they took his clothes off, leaving him in just a union suit. He stumbled forward heavily, like he was injured, and his features were contorted into a mix of pain, fear and anger. This man towered over his perpetrators, and yet he was so fragile, like a wounded bear attacked by a pack of wolves. Suddenly, they pushed him and almost sent him tumbling on the ground. Instead, he crashed against what seemed to be a large wooden tub of water. A bit of it splashed out the side on impact.

Since they stupidly didn’t tie his hands up, Arthur turned around and tried to fight back, punching one of the O’Driscoll boys to free himself from his grip. The other one reacted just as quickly, hitting the kidnapped man on the back of his skull with the butt of a gun. Kris winced, phantom pain hitting her in the same spot. Tears burned behind her eyes as her husband collapsed on the ground, red blood staining his blond hair.

She held her breath until she saw him move, slowly and disorderly, but moving. Colm’s henchmen grabbed a stunned Arthur and pushed him towards the tub. The last thing Kris saw before bolting towards the camp was one of them putting a white hood over his head and fastening it with a rope.

Panic settled into her whole being. “Shit, shit, shit.” She had to act fast.

Kris reached the back of the shed, scouting the grounds attentively. She located the two men who were playing with Arthur’s guns earlier: they were far enough apart to be taken out stealthily.

Creeping behind the first victim of the night, Kris drew her knife slowly. She jumped up, locking the bandit’s neck with her forearm and plunging the blade deep into his throat. Before he even fell to the ground gurgling and choking on his own blood, Kris was already tailing the second feller. This one was taller, so she took advantage of her lower position. With a swift kick behind his knees, the man fell on the ground with a gasp, the air knocked out of his lungs when the woman sticked the knife into his temple, pressing and releasing it as a gush of warm blood stained her hand. 

“See you in hell, fuckers” she murmured, releasing the tension with a short exhale.

The sound of splashing and roaring laughter alarmed her, so she turned around, searching frantically for Arthur. What she saw made her freeze in horror.

While one O’Driscoll held Arthur down with his whole weight, locking his arms behind his back, the other plunged his hooded head into the tub, keeping it down until he squirmed violently, on the verge of drowning. The he pulled him out, Arthur gasping and sputtering and coughing, only to stick his head back into the water, over and over again. The two were talking and laughing maniacally, but Kris didn’t even register it. Both her vision and hearing was focused on her husband being tortured, his desperate sounds unleashing something primal in her that she had never felt before. Everything went white, a blind rage enrapturing every fiber of her being. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was drawing her rifle, directing it at the torturers. 

All reality froze in that instant, slowed down as if coated in honey. Every movement felt heavy and automatic, white-hot rage taking over Kris’s central nervous system, sending impulses to the nerves, urging her fingers to manipulate the trigger.

Two shots to the head. She didn’t miss.

The second blast echoed in her ears, unbearably loud, making the white veil lift off reality, and she gradually resumed control of her own body.

Arthur sprung backwards, choking and sputtering water as his hands clawed at the completely soaked cotton hood, struggling to remove it. The water had made it stick to his head like a glove, the fabric getting into his mouth and nostrils, making it impossible to breathe.

Kris slung the rifle over her shoulder and rushed over to him; she gripped base of the hood, lifting the rope that closed it and pulling it desperately upwards. It started to budge after a few pulls, Arthur’s struggle becoming more and more violent as more oxygen left his lungs and terror took ahold of him. Finally, it came off with one last desperate, violent pull.

Arthur inhaled sharply, erupting into a coughing fit as too much oxygen filled his severely deprived airways. Kris reached out to touch him, like she needed proof that he was really there, in front of her. Alive.

She checked him for injuries: he had a bullet wound in his left shoulder, the blood barely visible on the red union suit they left him in. It looked pretty serious: it must have been a double barreled shotgun, because the gash was huge. The cotton had melted into the skin, fusing with the charred edges of the wound and slowing the bleeding up a bit. The risk of infection was very high.

“You came” Arthur managed to speak hoarsely. He seemed surprised that someone actually came to rescue him.

Kris hugged him, careful to avoid his wound. “Of course I did”, she whispered, choking up.

Arthur wrapped her in his arms, but gasped in pain as his shoulder muscles contracted. He was rapidly reminded of the gravity of his injury and let his harmed shoulder slump to the side, right arm cradling his left deltoid in an effort to reduce the sudden pain.

“We need to get you back to camp” Kris urged, wide-eyed, inviting her partner to lean on her.

Arthur looked back, taking in the torture grounds before leaving: multiple men on the ground, slit throats and burst heads in pools of brains and blood; the nightmarish hood, which disturbingly still retained the shape of his face, was floating in the tub like a dead fish. The campfire burned furiously, fueled by shreds of cotton thrown in it, now as black as coal. He recognized his own clothes.

Kris walked in front of him, kneeling down to grab something by the entrance of the tool shed. Arthur limped over there to have a look: it was his gun belt and all the weapons he carried during the ambush. His wife helped him tie the belt around his waist and handed him his rolling block rifle. His dignity back.

Arthur held it, savoring the familiar feeling of wood and metal in his hands. He swung the weapon on his unharmed shoulder, but the movement was enough to send a sharp stab of pain directly through his flesh again. He groaned, clenching his teeth so hard they hurt and he went as pale as a sheet. He struggled to breathe, his limbs slowly becoming numb, his heart-rate slowing down. He could tell he didn’t have much time before passing out from blood loss.

“Shit,” Kris exclaimed, noticing his rapidly worsening condition. “We need to leave!”

With the loudest whistle she could muster she called her horse over. Cloud galloped into camp diligently, neighing and shaking her mane furiously upon seeing the lifeless bodies on the ground. Kris helped Arthur get on the horse, struggling to support his weight. She then mounted in front of him and took the reins. 

They were halfway home when Arthur started to lose consciousness. His grip on his wife’s waist grew weaker, his head heavy, slurring his words.

“Arthur? How are we doing?” Kris asked anxiously.

“Dunno… how much” Arthur tried his best to articulate, “…I can hold on” he coughed, breathing raucously. His eyes felt heavy and the world was becoming darker by the minute. He was in and out of reality, lights flickering on and off, a mysterious veil clouding his vision.

“Please, hold on honey,” she encouraged him. “It ain’t much longer now!”

Kris spurred Cloud on, going as fast as she would take them, hoping Arthur would keep holding on tight behind her. She rode and rode and rode until she saw the familiar camp entrance through the woods, sighing with immense relief as Arthur clung to her with all the strength he had left.

“Charles! Sadie! Someone, help!” Kris screamed her lungs off long before approaching camp, urgency and distress rendering her voice shrill. 

Arthur moaned and grunted, finally letting go of all the efforts to stay vigilant. His body slumped over and he fell unconscious. Kris barely had the time to get off the horse to try and catch him, but he was too heavy and he almost fell on her. Luckily, Charles had heard her call and was already behind her, ready to catch his friend. A few others rushed over to help them carry Arthur over to his cot.

Kris made her way through the small crowd that had formed around his wagon. She checked his breathing and heart-rate, which were both slow, but regular. Arthur was gradually starting to regain consciousness now, breathing faster and trying to speak, only incoherent, jumbled words coming out.

“You’re gonna be okay, dear. You’re safe now” Kris cooed, stroking his hair tenderly. Arthur opened his eyes and was met with the worry and love in his wife’s. He rolled them back shut, way too fatigued to keep them open. He smiled.

“Thank you” he muttered, trying to squeeze Kris’s hand, but too weak to.

“Ms. Grimshaw, can you please have someone tend to his wound?” she asked, pointing at Arthur’s bleeding shoulder. “It’s pretty bad.”

The older woman saw all the fiery determination of a loving wife in Kris, all the pain and anxiety she was suppressing for Arthur’s sake. It was such a familiar feeling for her. She nodded, pulling herself out of the shock of seeing her adoptive son gravely hurt.

“Of course.” As she ran to get the doctor, Dutch and Micah approached the small group gathered at the man’s bedside.

“Arthur, my poor son!” Dutch lamented, filling Kris with disgust. What a shameless farce.

Arthur groaned, shifting his weight on his right side. “I told you it was a trap, Dutch” he growled, pushing the pain down and letting the anger resurface. He allowed this to happen.

Fury and bitterness enveloped him so intensely, he managed to send the pain to the backseat for a moment. Sitting up to face his mentor, he spoke, his tone the lowest Kris had ever heard:

“You let my wife risk her life for me.”

Extreme pain and anger were making him delirious, but this he saw as clear as day: Kris put herself in danger to rescue him. Dutch didn’t come looking for him after he didn’t show up at the meeting spot. He let his wife go after him alone.

Everyone fell silent, two sets of furious eyes and several shocked ones pointed at Van Der Linde, who stood there like a salt statue, his expression indecipherable.

“Micah planned this, didn’t he?” Arthur pressed on, rage white hot, pronouncing Micah’s name with pure disgusted disdain. “He was the only one who thought it was a good idea.”

The accused man dropped into the conversation with his usual fake apologetic tone. “Hey, cowpoke, no reason t-“

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Arthur erupted, coughing and wheezing as the pain abruptly came back to torment him, leaving him no choice but to back down and rest. Kris helped him get back into a comfortable position.

“I’ll deal with this, Arthur” she promised sternly. Then, turning to the crowd:  “I want everybody except the doctor and Ms. Grimshaw out of here. Now!”

Nobody wanted to further aggravate an upset wife, so they all scrambled back to their cots or scattered throughout camp.

Dutch turned his back to leave like everyone else, but Kris stopped him.

“Oh no, you stay here. I need a word with you.” Her tone didn’t admit reply. Van Der Linde slowly turned around, lighting himself a second cigar.

“Miss, I-“

Kris corrected him, vitriol in her voice. “Mrs. Mrs. Morgan.” She emphasized each letter deliberately, her patience wearing dangerously thin.

Dutch recognized his misstep, so he resorted to fawn and praise, like he always did. Still, he strangely refused to acknowledge her title.

“I’m so sorry about this, Kris. You were so brave, to rescue Arthur and bring him back to us in one piece.”

“One piece?!” she retorted, in complete disbelief. “Does my husband look in one piece to you?!” she gestured towards Arthur, laid down on his cot while the doctor examined him. Susan watched over them both.

Dutch raised his hands, softening his tone. “We’ll take care of him. This won’t happen again.”

Kris had grown tired of this man’s empty promises. “You say that, but how long until he’s lined up for the next stupid, deadly, useless mission? Huh?” her voice was starting to crack, the pent up emotions of the whole day taking their toll on her. “What then?”

“Were you going to come for him?” she asked softly, too tired to hold back tears now. “Be honest, Dutch. Were you?”

The dark-haired man stared blankly in the distance, over Kris’s shoulder. The charismatic leader finally had no words. They bolt jolted at the sudden scream that resounded through camp. The doctor was removing the bullet from Arthur’s shoulder, Susan holding his hand like a doting mother, whispering words of comfort to her surrogate son.

Kris dried her tears on her blood stained shirt. Arthur’s blood. “Dutch,” she called, voice shaking. “look at me.”

“Do you still have faith in me, Kris?” he asked, all of a sudden emotional. “Like when you did when you were an orphan on the street, and I took you in as my own daughter?”

Kris looked up at him, tears dry on her cheeks. 

He knew that would make her feel guilty. 

He knew she had no choice but to join, and that she had been grateful. 

He also knew how much Arthur came to mean to her. 

Did she still have faith in him? Her mind was way too tired now, her emotions too jangled up to verbalize them. She shot her mentor a doubtful look and left him there.

Kris went to sit by Arthur’s cot, head buzzing with too many thoughts. The doctor had just finished bandaging him. Seeing her approaching, Susan promptly gave her the seat next to her husband.

“The doctor says we need to change his bandages frequently to avoid infection, but he should feel fine in a few weeks” she reassured Kris, laying her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

Kris smiled, grateful that the worst had passed. “Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.”

Susan nodded and gave the couple some privacy.

Arthur was understandably tuckered out, so Kris just sat on the chair next to him and held his hand as he slept.

“You’re gonna be okay” she said, more to herself than to him. She would have never admitted it, but seeing Arthur like that stressed her out to no end, a profound anxiety shutting her stomach down and keeping her awake.

And awake she sat, all night, checking Arthur’s breathing from time to time and changing his bandages every few hours.

Arthur woke up the next morning at the crack of dawn to see his devoted wife slumped forward on the chair, head bowed and fast asleep, still holding his hand. He smiled: she looked so cute when she slept. Poor baby looked exhausted, and yet she never left his side. God, how did he get so lucky? A brute like him hardly deserved such devoted loyalty like the one she showed him. If it wasn’t for her, who knows what would’ve happened to him. He loved her with all his soul, provided he had one to begin with. 

Sensing his eyes on her, Kris woke up, taking a while to adjust to her unusual surroundings.

“Good morning, beautiful” Arthur squeezed her hand and immediately winced, the effort making his wound wake up as well.

“Beautiful?” she huffed, sarcastic. “I’m tired, dirty and covered in blood!”

“Did I stutter?” he replied, inviting her to get closer. She obliged, sitting directly on the cot and leaning in to kiss him. It was the softest kiss, tender and intimate. It was a ‘I’m glad you’re alive’ kiss, savored slowly by both of them.

“Did you talk to Dutch?”

Kris shifted her weight from side to side, reminded of the uncomfortable conversation between them last night.

“I don’t want you to worry about this, not until you’re fully recovered.” She ordered, gently kissing his cheekbone. Arthur sighed.

“If I am gonna make it, that is.”

Kris repressed the urge to elbow him in the ribs. “Arthur Morgan! Of course you will” she scoffed. “Or I will descend into hell just to drag your sorry ass back here. Hear me?”

Her husband chuckled softly, then grimaced. “Oh, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Sorry” Kris grinned, suddenly overcome with a deep-set, warm relief. They were back in camp, having their usual banter. They were together.

“So, what do you need? Water? Something to eat? Do you want me to read for you?” she yawned so intensely that she was left disoriented for a second.

Arthur shook his head. “I want you to get some sleep, first.”

“Ugh. Fine” Kris protested, Susan already coming back to take over. 

“I’ll be back, honey” she cooed, leaning down to kiss Arthur’s lips again. 

“I’ll be right here.” he smiled, seeing her off. 

[pumpkinsy0]

SHEPARD FAM CAREER HEADCANNONS?????

i just woke up so excuse me me if i read this wrong and gave u somethin u aint ask for</33

tim - butcher

•said it multiple times, rhis is just him, he wanted extra cash and wanted it to have a steady reliable flow of it

•he also wanted a job where still nobody could mess w him if the did come in, yknow????

•w his record, its a miracle, maybe the boss just dont rlly care that hes in the gang and just wants the job done or this is a job tim get when hes older, maybe its a mix of both, either way his boss thought he would be an important asset in he was hired

•hes oddly graceful w it, he finds in theraputic, its odd to witness but that nigga has a way w the cleaver and knife, its pretty terrifying, maybe tim shouldnt have a job no more

•yes btw he somehow uses what he’s learned in how he fights, im not saying hes out there KILLIN ppl w his knives btw, however when it comes to rumbles w weapons, hes truly on another level

•he brings home meat for angela and curly, its mostly bacon, but he brings other stuff too, curly loves eating meat (pause on that😭) so he dont mind but ik angela gets sick of it sometimes and just wants rice or somethin

curly - he’s had like several different jobs😭

•like i could genuinely see curly as that guy whos job jumping, he’s been a janitor, a airport baggage handler, camp counselor, rn tho hes a line cook/dishwasher

•out of all three of em, i dont know HOW THIS GUY GOT A JOB, but yknow what, he got it, hes that guy that always has a new job when u see him, was he fired or did he quit??? nobody knows, u just see him pop up behind a counter some place

•he’s that coworker whos always in the back fucking around, god forbid hes the one supposed to be training u, man he’s teaching u some tricks and then leaving u to the wolves mid way

•he NEEDS a smoke break, he hates staying in one place for too long, especially in that hot ass kitchen, hes getting overstimulated and accidentally snapping at ppl someone save him

•hes not a good employee, i promise u if u got a weird ass order, he will look at u strange, and if he can sense u got social anxiety he’d probably fuck ur order up a lil bit bc what r u gonna do??? come back and tell him he got it wrong🤨🤨🤨

•chances r the place he works at is some money laundering scheme hes clueless about, he just say they were hirin and thought “eh why not”

angela - retail or fast food worker but if she tried, she could be a model

•the only one w a clean slate, her getting a job is no hassle

•shes literally nicole from bistro huddy, need i say more, she never wants to work but honestly who does???

•shes that girl listening to this poor single mother of 4 in the break room venting about how badly she needs this money to support her kids, meanwhile angela just wants to buy some damn clothes and make up😭

•man she’s never came to work in a good mood, when she wakes up she sighs putting on that uniform, but i’ll tell u what, she WILL make that uniform look good, shes a good designer w what shes got

•the customer is never right when ur in her presence, shes very intentional w what she does

•if u wanna go the model route, its bc someone took a pic of her at work and it blew up n she got recognized by modeling agencies or somethin, shes def just got “that look”, curly prolly got it too tbh, someone take a pic of him and test the waters, they can be like a two for one deal typa twin models🗣️

[redneonmoons]

It’s God’s Will [Vash X Reader][2/3]

Word Count: ~2.4k Description: The gang wakes up after a night of celebration. Problem is no one remembers the night and there might have been a wedding? [Part 1] [Part 3]

“Huh?” you said, opening the envelope and pulling out a group of photos.

“Your marriage,” he clarified before heading to the backroom.

Oh. As expected all the photos were from last night, most you assumed between the hours of one and five. And almost all were of that wedding you dreamed of which made your heart ache. You picked up an image of Vash kissing your cheek as you showed off your ring to the camera.  You wished all of this wasn’t some weird alcohol-induced scenario. You really felt bad for Vash. He doesn’t even know what happened but you still felt selfish holding onto this night. Shaking your head, you focused on what images you could show the rest of the group. 

You picked out all the photos of the group still at the bar and a few from the wedding that weren't obvious, like Meryl taking a pic of herself downing a large glass of booze and Wolfwood getting shoved into the confessional by you and Meryl. You took a look at all the photos, at some point Vash had the camera and a lot were of you. There was a series of the camera getting closer and closer until you started shoving the camera back, laughing. 

You glanced around the counter and picked up an additional envelope and put the separated photos into them. Stuffing the envelopes into your pack, you exited the store and looked around for any sign of the children and Vash. You saw a group of children run around a corner and you jogged over hoping they would lead you to Vash. 

You kept a reasonable distance behind them as they weaved through the streets. Eventually, you spotted Vash and the increasing gaggle of children looking at a window display As you walked up, you realized it was a pawn shop. You looked into the display to see Vash’s arm front and center.

“Uh,” you didn’t know where to start.

“I can’t even afford my own arm back,” Vash sadly laughed, “Look at how much they want for it.”

You glanced at the price tag, “Six thousand double dollars?!”

The children were starting to get annoyed about the lack of ice cream and made their complaints known, grabbing onto you and Vash’s shirts.

“We need to get Wolfwood to see this,” you said before turning to the children, “Alright guys, you did a good job. Let’s get that ice cream.”

The children immediately grabbed your hands, dragging you to the nearest dessert shop. Vash followed, laughing. 

Your wallet was much more empty now that you fed a town’s worth of children. You stared at it sadly before tucking it back into your pack.

“Did you find anything else from the photos?” Vash asked, he was carefully holding both your cones in one hand.

You took yours, “A lot of the photos didn’t show up but it seemed like we went to the church and continued to party there.”

“That’s weird,” Vash said, sitting down on a bench and eating his ice cream.

You joined him, “Agreed, all things currently point to Wolfwood.”

You both continued to eat your ice cream as the children scattered. They had their treats so they were done with you and Vash.

“I wonder if he sold it or traded it for something,” you voiced your thoughts; something in the back of your mind was telling you it had something to do with the rings.

Vash hummed, finishing his cone before turning to you, “We should find him.”

You sighed, not exactly wanting to deal with the nosey priest, “Alright.”

You both got up and started back to the hotel. On the way, you passed by the truck, finding Meryl and Wolfwood packing. Well, Meryl was packing; Wolfwood was leaning with his cross on the vehicle, smoking.

“Hey, guys,” Vash waved, walking over.

“Did the photos help?” Meryl asked, shutting the back door.

“That depends,” you said, pulling out one of the envelopes and showing them the photograph where the undertaker had Vash’s arm, “Want to explain how Vash’s arm wound up at a pawn shop, Wolfwood?”

“What?” Wolfwood grabbed the photo, pulling up his glasses to see better.

He started laughing as he handed it to Meryl. She also burst out laughing.

“You two are so cute,” Meryl commented on you and Vash.

You hoped your blush wasn’t as obvious as Vash’s.

“Do you remember why my arm is in a pawn shop?” Vash said.

Wolfwood shrugged, “Can’t say I do.”

“C’mon then, let’s see if the shop owner knows anything,” Meryl said, already heading in the direction of the pawn shop.

You and the others followed. Vash grabbed Wolfwood’s arm, “They want six thousand double dollars for it. How are we supposed to afford that?”

“I must have got a shit deal then if they’re charging that much,” Wolfwood replied, adjusting his cross.

“Surely you woke up with something you don’t remember having,” Meryl said.

“Nope.”

“That’d just make it harder to get my arm back,” Vash whined.

“We’ll figure something out,” you encouraged.

Vash pouted but didn’t say anything else.

Wolfwood, Meryl and you entered the pawn shop while Vash pressed his forehead and hand against the glass, staring at his arm, sadly.

“Hello, name’s Lukas. How can I help you?” a young man greeted.

“Hi,” Meryl walked up to the counter, “We were wondering if one of us might have sold that arm to you last night?”

“Yeah, the priest,” Lukas pointed at Wolfwood.

The undertaker shook his head and muttered, “Oh great,” before walking over to the counter, “So, obviously I was drunk last night and can’t remember a damn thing but that’s my friend’s arm so we’re going to need it back.”

Lukas crossed his arms, shaking his head, “No can do. Unless you have what you traded for it, I can’t just give it back.”

“Look, he’s practically crying,” Wolfwood gestured to Vash at the window.

“I think he is crying,” Meryl whispered before heading out to comfort Vash.

“Sorry, you have to have the rings,” Lukas continued unbothered.

“Rings? I don’t have any damn rings on me,” Wolfwood replied, leaning on the counter, “That’s your town’s savior out there, are you really going to hold his arm hostage cause I may or may not have bought rings?”

Wolfwood then turned to you, “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Nope,” you lied.

“LUKAS DAMON GRAYSON!” an older woman’s voice shrilled from the back, coming closer when the woman herself walked into the room, “Did you swindle someone else again?”

Lukas immediately paled, “N-no, I was just helping business.”

The woman, who seemed to be Luka’s mother, put her hands on her hips, “Oh? And how much were those rings worth?”

Lukas looked down and muttered something.

“What was that?” Lukas’s mother cupped her ear, leaning toward her son.

“Four hundred double dollars,” Lukas still mumbled but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I knew you ripped me off you little weasel,” Wolfwood dropped his cross, leaning it against the counter threatenedly.

“You don’t even remember it, drunkard,” Lukas quipped back.

You instantly held Wolfwood’s arm as he tried to vault over the counter. Lukas’s mother grabbed Lukas’s ear.

“This is why I told you not to open shop so late at night. Now give these nice people the arm back,” Lukas’s mother let go of her son and he scurried over to the window case.

You saw Vash’s face light up as he saw Lukas take out the arm and the blonde quickly ran into the shop, grabbing his arm from Lukas.

“I'm sorry for the trouble my son caused,” the woman said, “Don’t worry about those rings.”

“Rings?” Vash looked up from analyzing his arm.

“Nothing,” you said, a bit too quickly before grabbing Vash’s arm and dragging him out of the shop, “Let’s get you put together.”

You found a bench outside and held Vash’s sleeve up as he set his arm in, stretching out his arm and individually moving his fingers to make sure it was fitted properly. You pulled out the envelope of non-wedding photos and handed it to Meryl who was leaning forward on the back of the bench.

“Most of the photos didn’t show, but it looks like we crashed a church,” you said.

Meryl opened the envelope and pulled out a couple of photos, showing them to Wolfwood who was next to her. You pulled out the rest yourself and handed them to Vash. you watched over his shoulder as he went through them. One was of Wolfwood tripping Meryl, the photo captured just as she was falling mid-scream. Another featured you hiding in Vash’s coat with Vash holding his arms up, well one and a half arms. Vash giggled at that one as Meryl and Wolfwood were laughing behind you at the photos they were sharing.

“Looks like a wedding,” Wolfwood casually commented.

You hoped no one noticed you flinch.

“Are you still hungover, what are you talking about?” Meryl questioned the undertaker.

A week passed and the townsfolk have given you all a vacate house to stay in until you decided to leave. The house only had three bedrooms which Wolfwood had decided you and Vash would share one while he and Meryl got their own. Vash was quick to offer himself the couch for your comfort but you couldn’t allow it. It’s not like there was only one bed anyway.

You and Vash split the room, similar to how your original hotel room was set up; you got the right side and Vash the left. It was midday as you sat on your bed, looking out a window. Vash was playing with the children somewhere in town and Meryl was writing reports in her room. You didn’t know where Wolfwood went, but he was probably keeping an eye on Vash.

You had bought a lock box for the rings and photos and had tied the rings to a string to keep them together. The box laid on your lap as you shifted through the photos, a habit you had picked up. You let yourself roughly once a day pretend it was all real. Of course, the action always made you feel shameful and selfish but you couldn’t help yourself, let alone forget that night. You were sure the others knew about the box, but they haven’t come up to you about it and you had no plans on answering any questions they may ask.

“Hey, Y/N,” Meryl walked in without knocking.

You dropped the photos you were holding and slammed the box shut, locking it with your key.

“Yes?” You asked, clearly spooked and flustered.

Meryl just eyed the box before looking back at you, “We’re going out for lunch, coming?”

“Yeah, give me a second,” You said, getting up with the box in hand.

“Uh-huh,” Meryl left, shutting the door behind her.

You knew Meryl was eventually going to ask you about it. You put the box in a drawer and hid it under some spare clothes. You kept the key on a chain that you put around your ankle. Grabbing your boots from the other side of the room, you put them on.

You met the others outside, Vash had come back from playing with the kids with Wolfwood in tow. The undertaker had his cross over his shoulders as usual.

Vash had his ever-present smile as he turned to you and waved before Meryl pushed through everyone and started to lunch, “C’mon, I'm starving.”

Wolfwood followed, leaving you and Vash behind.

“Where did you go?” Vash asked, walking next to you.

“I needed some quiet time,” You answered, noticing how Vash’s hand brushed against yours as you walked.

When his hand touched yours again, you just opted to grab it, “How were the kids?”

“They never seem to tire,” Vash replied. You can see how exhausted he was from all the running he was doing.

The group made it to the restaurant and sat outside on the porch area. Vash sat to your right and Wolfwood on your left, leaving Meryl across from you. The waitress grabbed your drink and food orders and it didn’t take long for said food to arrive. The group happily indulged themselves, not really talking as you focused on the food.

You were about to take another bite from your sandwich when you had a strange feeling wash over you like you were being watched. You looked up to see Vash turn an unnatural color.

“I don’t feel g-” Vash’s eyes unfocused as he started to wobble in his chair.

“What?” Wolfwood said before gunshots fired behind you and the undertaker.

You and Meryl rushed to Vash’s side, both grabbing an arm.

“Oh great, it’s those losers again,” Wolfwood said, before unraveling his cross and pulling out a handgun to fire back, “Go get Vash to help, I’ll take care of the gang.”

You and Meryl lifted Vash up and went to the town’s hospital. Vash was still semi-conscious as you dragged him through the streets. Screams and gunfire could be heard as you turned corners.

You felt Vash get heavier, “Hey, stay with us.” Vash groaned in response but became more conscious.

“There is no way Vash getting ill all the sudden isn’t a coincidence,” Meryl said, readjusting Vash’s arm on her shoulders.

The three of you finally made it to the hospital; the gunshots were distant now as you pulled Vash inside, yelling for help. Nurses flocked over and they took him to the doctors while you and Meryl were questioned by another nurse.

“We think he was poisoned,” Meryl said.

You felt your hands starting to clam up. You’ve been with Vash to know he constantly got into trouble and hurt like this but that never stopped your anxiety from spiking in these moments. Your logical side was fighting your very, very emotional side as you tried to convince yourself that Vash will be okay. What if you don’t get to tell him? Your brain always asked that question when he got hurt.

“Y/N!” Meryl brought you back to reality, shaking your shoulders, “C’mon, let's get a seat.”

“What about Wolfwood?” you asked, he might need help.

“I’m here dummy,” Wolfwood said, there was blood on his clothes but with the way he was standing, his cross slung over his shoulder, you figured it wasn’t his.

You all were taken to a waiting room while the doctors treated Vash. You tried to distract yourself by reading a newspaper but you couldn’t focus on the words and instead slammed it back on the table. Your leg bounced while you fidgeted with your hands.

“Jesus, relax will ya?” Wolfwood said, “Vash is tough.”

You glared at the undertaker, annoyed, “I know.”

[Part 1] [Part 3]

[nothingbutaspaceman-writings]

It's Always Supernatural in Philadelphia (chapter 1/? WIP)

[Perhaps the dumbest project I've ever started. This idea has infested my head for over a decade. A couple years ago, I posted a pic of the cold open but recently decided to pick it back up. At about 1400 words, this is far more a proof of concept than anything. I've never written/read a fanfic. I know I need to look into posting this on a site more formatted for this stuff. I'll be mapping out the story soon so posted chapters can have some consistency. Should edit this chapter a bit too. I also haven't watched either of these shows in a long time. The story ostensibly takes place in 2016 but what's happening in either canon continuity at the time? I've no clue. AU, I guess.]

11 AM.

October 28th, 2016.

On a Friday.

Philadelphia.

Dennis made small talk while finding a clean glass.

“You guys from around here?”

“Nah. Passing through.”

“Don’t get a lot of suits in here. Don’t mind me askin’, what’s your business, fellas?”

Sam cleared his throat. “We’re, uh... P.I’s.”

“Any interesting pic-”

With a clatter, Charlie stumbles to the counter. “Dennis. It’s not dying. I keep whacking and-”

Shushing, “Did you use the spiked bat?”

Offendedly stammering, “Of course! Never seen a rat like this. And you know I’ve seen a lot-”

“Like what?” Dean interjected.

“Oh, hey guys. Green.”

_________________________________

The Gang Hunts El Chupacabra

_________________________________

Chapter 1

Charlie leads Dean toward the basement door.

“Okay, I guess it’s fair to warn you, seeing as how you’re a guest and all-”

“Warn me of what?”

“I have a shit-ton of crows down here. So, like. Please don’t spook them?” Charlie opens the door and leads the way down the stairs. “Ya know they’re more afraid of you than you are of them. Also, like, crows are super smart. I once saw one smoke a cigarette.”

“Cool. Now show me that rat.”

Blood pools in a spot a bit over a foot in diameter a couple steps away from the bottom of the stairs. Charlie is chuckling to himself repeating, “That rat, that rat, that rat” under his breath.

Dean crouches down with a flashlight to examine the blood then does a 360 checking for escape routes under pallets and cabinets. No tracks. He lightly dips his finger into the blood as he catches Charlie doing the same. “So you’re say-”

“What?”

“Did you taste the blood?”

“Nah, man. I’m just... Chewing my nails. Protein.” He stands up and puts his hands in his jacket pockets.

“This was a rat but not a rat?”

“Ima level with you,” Barely keeping his balance, Charlie hunches down and continues in a hush, “I’ve seen a lot of rats. A lot of rats in my day. But this was something else. Actually,” he claps his hands once and the crows squawk in a frenzy, “can I interest you in some Crow-Nog?”

“What?!”

Upstairs, Sam is trying to get his laptop working. He’s looking under each booth for a socket with power. The only one is being used by a couple charging their phones.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I borrow your socket for a minute? I can charge your phones on my laptop.” The young couple look across at each other waiting for the other to say something. “Alright. Um. Sir? If you wouldn’t mind swapping sides. Your lovely date would appreciate it, I’m sure.”

The young man gets up. “I’ll go order us a couple more drinks.”

“I’m okay,” Sams blurts before realizing his social faux pas. He makes eye contact with the woman and she smiles. He taps his fingers nervously and his eyes look to the table.

“Actually. I think the two of us are leaving. Come on.” The non-descript couple leaves with one rushing the other.

Dennis, watching the situation unfold, stands at the table. “Did you- was that intentional?”

“I’m sorry...”

“Dennis.”

“I’m sorry, Dennis, but I need to get to work.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Go ahead.” Dennis lingers a couple seconds longer than Sam would like but goes back behind the bar. As he does, Dean and Charlie emerge from the basement. Dean’s eyes quickly meet Sam’s and he slides into the booth.

Sam exhales, half annoyed he’s being interrupted again, half in preparation for what Dean is gonna reveal. “So what happened?”

“I think we’re on the right track. Freddy Got Fingered over there told me he has seen weird things around here. He tried to get me to drink something called Crow-Nog but there’s other witnesses.”

“Other witnesses? Friends with that guy?” Sam points to Charlie trying to open a bottle of super glue with his mouth.

“Yeah, why?” Dean returns assuredly. “Anything good in there?”

“Well, nothing to report as of yet.  I don’t know if this place even has internet.”

“Did you ask your friend over there?” Dennis is failing to look natural as he wipes and re-wipes the bar top.

“I’ll ask mine when you ask yours.” Charlie is trying to open a bottle of nail polish remover with his glued shut jaw.

“Fair enough. Didn’t we order drinks already?”

“Yeah. I’m going to let mine go. I wouldn’t drink anything here even if it was out of a bottle.”

“What do you mean? Alcohol kills all the germs.” Dean smirks. “Yo! Two beers. Your worst and your best.”

With a thumbs up, “You got it.” Dennis turns to the taps and rambles to himself unsure of how to fulfill the request. In one pint glass, he pours a pungent lager. He once read that good lager smells like rotten egg so, even if it is spoiled, he has the plausible deniability of it being fancy. “Charlie.”

Charlie is already right behind him, wiping nail polish remover from his lips in embarrassment.

“I’m not even going to ask. Charlie, what’s the best beer here?”

“Crow-Nog, duh, Dennis.”

“I’m not!” Hushing himself, “I’m not giving anybody your bird moonshine, okay?”

“Then whatever is in that third tap. I’ve been,” his eyes dart back and forth, “metaphorically sucking the spout.”

Another pint glass is grabbed and filled with a brick red tinted liquid. “This better be beer.” Dennis places the two glasses on the table. The lager in front of Dean. Charlie’s pick spilling over onto Sam’s laptop.

“They’re both for me, buddy.” The lager is already half-drank before the final syllable escapes.

“Sorry about my janitor over there. He can get a wee excited for guests.” They all look at Charlie as he licks a nail polish brush. “Let’s ignore him. So what are you guys working on?”

“Mr...”

“Reynolds.”

“Mr. Reynolds,” his empty pint is scooted towards the wall as he lowers his voice, “have you seen anything out of the ordinary around here.”

“Out of the ordinary,” a million flashbacks, “around here?”

“Yeah. You know. Strange. Unnatural.”

Ready to follow their monsters-are-real scripts, Sam and Dean both focus on Dennis

“Did Charlie put you up to this?” Dennis gulps and flatly repeats, “Did Charlie put you up to this, huh?” He chuckles, puts his hands on his waist, and looks at the ground before looking through Dean. “Wow. Okay guys. How about you finish your drinks and,” he clicks his tongue, “hit the old dusty trail.”

“We’re being serious.”

“So am I. It was nice, guys.” Walking away, Dennis scolds Charlie for eating nail polish. As Dean begins to drink the mystery drink, “And quit putting your whole mouth on the beer taps. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Deans spits out his drink and Sam laughs. “Let’s get out of here, Sammy.”

Mac holds the door as the brothers exit. He lets them by, straightens his posture, and sizes them up.

“Who were those guys?”

“Assholes,” replied Dennis.

“I thought they were kinda cool. Didn’t wanna try my nog but that’s okay. Can’t all be winners.”

“Dude, we need to move the nog.”

“Man, I know. Those guys were cool too. They were also super packing.”

Mac’s eyes widened. “No shit?”

“Definitely. The shorter guy,” he whistles, “was in the basement with me.”

“And?”

“And what. He had ‘I’m packing’ energy, dude!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dennis interrupts, pouring a red beer for Mac to get him to sit down, “Maybe that guy you talked with. Tall guy, nah. Don’t buy it.”

“I do. I buy it, Charlie. I was checking those- I was,” Mac takes a quick sip, “ assessing those guys. Tall guy. I bet he’s packing. I mean, did you see his hands?”

“Oh yeah. I was glad he stayed up here with Dennis.”

“Why were you in the basement together? Is it about the crows?”

“The murder?”

“The what?!” Almost spilling his drink, Mac stumbles to his feet. “I actually. I just remembered a thing. I gotta go.” Mac leaves the bar.

“You gonna finish that?”

“Mac’s beer that is infested with whatever diseases hide in your saliva glands?”

“Yeah.”

“Take it.”

Charlie pulls a plastic mini-bottle out of his jacket and pours the white substance into the beer. “I’ll be in the basement. Call me up if Frank comes by, yeah?”

[vad3o7]

A brief story of his early life

Have nothing to do with these pics :p

In 2031, beneath the shadow of Naples’ crumbling old-world architecture, a child was born into a world laced with power, violence, and secrets. His name: Cesare “Caesar” Vercetti. The Ombra Nera Syndicate (ONS) watched over him like silent guardians, as if they knew this boy would one day inherit the weight of their empire.

But fate is cruel.

His mother never even held him. She passed within hours of giving birth, leaving Caesar to be raised by the looming figure of his father—one of the most feared and respected men in the criminal underworld. His father’s name carried weight, making rivals tremble, but power, as Caesar would learn too early, is a fragile thing.

The year was 2041. Caesar was just a boy of ten, playing in the sun-dappled courtyard of their estate, his laughter the only trace of innocence left in that house. But then came the sound that would shatter his world—a gunshot, sharp and cold, cutting through the air. He froze, his heart pounding, before running inside, feet barely touching the marble floors.

The scene that awaited him was a nightmare he could never escape.

There, on the floor, lay his father, a pool of crimson spreading like a dark stain beneath him. And standing over the body wasn’t a masked assassin or rival gang member—it was someone far more sinister. It was a man Caesar had known all his short life: his father’s most trusted lieutenant, a man who had eaten at their table, smiled in their home. Now, he stood with a twisted grin, the still-smoking gun in his hand, eyes gleaming with betrayal.

Caesar couldn’t move. His body trembled, his mind trying to make sense of the horror. Was he next? Would he feel the burn of the bullet just as his father had? Before the thought could consume him, the guards stormed in, taking down the traitor with a fury. Caesar fell to his knees, his gaze fixed on the blood, on his father’s motionless form, on the life that had slipped away.

It was the last day he ever smiled.

In the aftermath, Caesar’s world became cold and distant. That same year, the weight of the empire his father built fell onto his small shoulders. Though young, Caesar was sharp, absorbing every lesson, every secret, with the kind of precision that only pain can carve. He was destined to rule, but it was no longer out of choice—it was out of necessity, out of vengeance, and out of survival.

[playingsick]

Ok so um kinda doing something different here?

I thought I'd introduce my two oc couples and start writing fics for each. Let me know what you guys think!

Starting with my opposites attract babies that I adore. Ethan and Mav.

Ethan (E)

(credits to owner for all the pics found on Pinterest)

Name: Ethan

Nicknames: E

Gender: Male

Birthday: Not Celebrated

Age: 24

Sexuality: Bi

Race: White British

Body: broad and muscular, built, vieny, deep voiced

Height: 6'4

Hair colour: Black/Brown

Piercings: Two on each lobe and getting more done

Tattoos: Patch work on arm, abs, back and neck, some on his fingers

Career: Tattoo artist

About: Flirty, ambitious, a sunny exterier, smiles a lot. Except he's: Ex-con turned tattoo artist and its to cover the morally grey man he can be. Affiliated with gang violence, trauma and a tragic incident. Estranged from his family members after arrest. Professional tattoo artist, has a fur baby called Midnight.

Family: Elise (mum), Isabella (little sister, aged 6). Mav (Boyfriend of 1.5 years)

Likes: drawing, motorbikes, late night strolls, playing guitar, clubs, privacy, working out, cats, his coffee and energy drinks.

Dislikes: Secretly everything, everyone. Gangs, blood, violence. Romance and Love (unless it's mav)

Hates: Anyone, anything hurting Mav.

Kinks: foreplay, rough sex, groping and choking, escapism, hooking up, possessiveness. Is a Dom, sometimes an emetophile.

Headcannons: His vomiting consists of burps and big waves, sweats up a storm, feels a lot better once its all out. Is lactose intolerant, will smoke a fag if he's nauseous, doesn't get sick often and has a strong stomach but is prone to lots of migraines and has allergies.

Maverick (Mav)

(again, credits to owners of the pics found on Pinterest)

Name: Maverick

Nicknames: Mav

Gender: Male

Birthday: 22nd September

Age: 22

Sexuality: Bi

Race: White British

Body: broad and muscular, lean

Height: 5'11

Hair colour: Blonde

Piercings: N/A

Tattoos: N/A

Career: Accounting Major/Business Intern

About: Soft spoken, love language is words of affirmation and a golden retriever boy. An academic weapon, straight A student and son of a politician, and a businesswoman. Studying his masters in accounting, interned with his mother. Real dream is to become a pediatric nurse, helping kids recover from mental health/health issues.

Family: Rich parents that should divorce. Ethan (love of his life for 1.5 years) Isabella (E's little sister is his little sister)

Likes: reading, listening to music, late night drives, clubs, alcohol, sunsets, dogs, cafes.

Dislikes: Confrontation, arguments, screaming and shouting, academic pressure.

Hates: His boyfriend Ethan getting sick/not doing well.

Kinks: foreplay, passionate sex, The sub of the two. Aftercare, being owned, praise and gentle sex. Plays the part for Ethan and his emetophilc moods.

Headcannons: His vomiting consists of wet and noisy, it's a painful ordeal which he hates (unless it's to do with Ethan), will do everything in his power not to get sick but has a weak immune system. Gets hungover, a lot. Takes a while to feel better after. Prone to fever vomits/dreams and nightmares. Stress eating and puking is pretty much his thing.

Any requests you'd like me to write out using the two then please please send them in!!

[fonfan121]

✨️TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS✨️

Template by @vincentmatthews | Find it here! Also kudos to @another-corpo-rat​​ for bringing this to my attention in the first place.

Okay, so I have... 11 of them for 2077, so I’m just going to use my first and most fleshed out one.

Name 

Athena Telete Themis Alala Calypso Knox (there is absolutely no documentation to confirm this, source: trust me)

Nicknames

Fort Knox, Goldie

Age

30 (as of June, 2077)

Pronouns

She/Her

Sexuality

Lesbian 

Eye Color

Amber (natural)

Height

6′1″

Body Type

I mean, have you seen her?

Personality

Very happy-go-lucky, almost always in a good mood. Athena is very casual about most things, to the point where a lot of people think she doesn’t take anything seriously. While that might be true, at least to a certain degree, rest assured that when things do go down, she’ll be ready to go. 

She also will flirt with just about any woman she comes across, even if they’re trying to kill her at the time.

Hobbies

Keeping her body in shape for the most part, as well as tuning her vehicular pride and joy, a custom Quadra Javelina. More recently Athena has taken to reading ancient philosophy, if nothing else to keep up with her partner’s quoting.

Gang/Occupation (Mox, MaxTac, Arasaka, etc)

Freelance merc, working with T-Bug (and later 8ug8ear, but that’s another story)

Do they smoke?

Hell nah.

Do they drink? If so, what's their poison of choice?

It depends on the occasion, but Athena’s gotten partial to Calavera Feliz.

What do they usually wear on a normal day?

It depends on whether she’s working, but usually it’s light tops and comfortable, practical pants. Sleeves are always optional.

What do they wear when they "Get dressed up"? And what would be considered a "special occasion" to them? {I.E. "I have to look my best" Or an "It's our anniversary"}

Usually it’s a basic suit shirt and pants combo, but rarely, very rarely, she’ll wear a dress. pics or it didn’t happen

As to what she considers a special occasion, it would almost certainly be something private with her partner.

What do they smell like?

Sweat, gunpowder and a teensy, tiny bit of lavender.

How do they walk? (Do they sway their hips? Do they walk with a sense of determination? Do they bounce as they walk? Etc)

Very relaxed, shoulders down, with a slight strut. (and a lot of winks to passing ladies)

Are they more of an early bird or a night owl?

She could get work day or night, so Athena’s sleep schedule ends up being pretty flexible. She does prefer sleeping in when possible, though.

If you had to use one word to define them, what word would you use?

Casual.

What words or catchphrases do they say that's unique to that character?

One or two more Australian colloquialisms, such as “bloody oath” or “yeah nah/nah yeah”.

Favorite Season?

Summer, for sure.

Favorite type of weather? {Thunderstorms, sunny, etc}

She prefers sunny and warm, but to be honest the weather in general just doesn’t bother her. Except for sandstorms, god she hates the sandstorms.

Do they have someone they're with relationship-wise? If so, who?

Despite flirting and having flings with literally half the women she comes across, she is very loyal and has an ongoing, proper relationship with her partner, T-Bug. T-Bug doesn’t really have a problem with the flings, so long as Athena’s faithful/truthful about what she’s doing.

Main Ship/Pairings

Athena/T-Bug duh

Side Pairings

Athena/8ug8ear

Favorite/Self-indulgent Pairings

Athena/T-Bug/8ug8ear (which eventually becomes my headcanon, after T-Bug retires)

How do they show affection to their loved one?

Mostly physical things, like hugs and soft kisses... with permission, of course. Also, lots of flirting.

How do they sit in a chair?

Legs spread, usually to let someone sit in front of her so she can hug them.

What do they wear to bed?

Boxers and a tank top, with extra layers depending on the weather.

How do they usually sleep? {Side sleeper, back, fetal position, backwards, nest sleeper, blanket mountain, etc}

She’ll sleep on her back, either spread out by herself or an arm wrapped around someone else.

Do they have to have a form of "white noise" in order to sleep? {The sound of a fan, the sound of rain, the sound of a city, etc}

She doesn’t need anything to help her sleep, but the sound of rain is surprisingly soothing for her.

What's a place they go to feel comfortable, that's their "spot" they always go when they're upset?

Athena doesn’t generally get upset, but when she does, there’s a little spot on the Pacifica beachfront that always calms her down.

What do they do when they're nervous? {Fidget with jewelry, pick at nails, bite nails/lips, play with knife/zippo lighter, etc}

She’ll flick at her pointer finger with her thumb on one hand, then tap the palm of her other to make a sort of rhythm.

What is their "tell" for lying?

Athena’s not much of a liar, that being said her tell is that she crosses her arms, tapping her fingers on them.

What is their favorite color?

Gold, but not for what you think. It’s her favorite color because she likes to try and make things “good as gold”. And yes, because it’s shiny.

Favorite flower/plant?

Lavender.

Favorite sweet of choice?

Raspberry Licorice.

Do they have any pets? If so, tell me about them.

Pets are bloody expensive, no way she has one.

What are their triggers {If they have any}? If so, what calms them down?

She has only one trigger, it’s a defensive one, for a... particular name. She refuses to elaborate and about the only thing to calm her down is either T-Bug, or her quiet spot.

If they could visit anywhere in the world, where would they go and why?

Well, there is this certain villa in Crete that she has her eye on...

What is their favorite comfort meal?

Ice cream, vanilla/chocolate/caramel combo.

Do they have a food they hate?

Despite her apparent sweet tooth, cake. Just the way it feels in her mouth just... doesn’t sit with her.

What is their favorite {non-alcoholic} drink?

Hot chocolate, bonus points for an imported Australian brand.

What are their plans for the future {if they have any}?

Pay off her fixer debt, then help T-Bug retire. Simple, but definitely long term.

What's a song that "fits" them?

Anything AC/DC. It’s practically all she listens to

Give me 5 facts/random bits of information about them

- Athena has a Y2K 20 cent piece, given by her late grandma before she moved to the states.

- She had her first kiss on the Pacifica rollercoaster with then girlfriend, Felicia.

- Has a nickname for just about everyone she knows... except for T-Bug.

- Once spent 24 hours inside an Animal den for a bet, got caught by none other than Sasquatch on the way out. Charmed her way out, naturally.

- Did I mention she flirts with almost any woman she comes across? Cause she does.

Give me their backstory {can be long, or brief.}

Pre 2054: Living in Australia.

2053: Moves to NUSA.

2054: Settles into Pacifica, Night City.

2069: Her father Bradley gets drafted into the Unification war, doesn’t return.

2070: Is forced to leave Pacifica, moves into Watson.

2070-2077: Begins merc work, gets into debt with fixers over gear lost and bad jobs.

2077: Saves the life of T-Bug, the pair work together, eventually helping V and others.

[millieisawriter]

Too much to handle

micah bell x reader

summary: you find micah sitting alone during jack's return party and decide to mess around with him

wc: 1.4k

warnings: suggestive content

♡the pic in the middle belongs to @missusarthurmorgan and this post was in general inspired by this post♡

pics on the right and on the left are taken from pinterest

The gang had been in a gloomy mood when Jack got kidnapped, and they did everything they could to get him back. Dutch, as crazy and erratic as he is, took the kidnapping very seriously, and a few days later Jack was safe and sound in Abigail's arms. It seemed even as if John started to care, finally taking up the role of the father.

Of course the safe return had to be celebrated. Any reason was a good reason to get at least a little tipsy on whiskey, so no one complained about the idea. At first, all of you gathered around the fire, Jack in his mother's lap, everyone singing while Javier played a cheerful melody on his guitar.

Eventually it got really late, and Abigail decided it was the time for Jack to sleep, against the little boy's protests that he wasn't tired at all. And as the two of them disappeared inside Shady Belle, the rest of the gang continued opening new bottles of whiskey, and the songs got more and more inappropriate, one worse than the other.

You were never the one to shy away from this type of activities. With a bottle in your hand, you shamelessly sang the lyrics, "The ring dang doo, now what is that? It's soft and round like a pussycat. Got a hole in the middle and it's split in two and that's what you call the ring dang doo!"

Javier sat by the table, strumming the melody, and other seats were occupied by Uncle, Karen, and miss Grimshaw. You had to stand, holding Karen's shoulder for balance support, but you didn't mind.

"A dollar for each, and three for two to take a crack at my ring dang doo!" Because there was nothing that could stop you from belting out those dirty lyrics in your not-the-most-sober state.

But as you looked away, your gaze landed on Micah sitting alone by the campfire. He seemed relaxed, leaning back against one hand, a cigarette in the other, and his hat tipped slightly to the side as he smoked.

Ever since Micah became a part of the gang, you never really saw him make any effort to socialize. Even as a gang member, he was a lone wolf. Partly because he chose to, and partly because his aura was so... unpleasant that others just didn't desire to become his friends. And now, even though the campfire was usually the place where a bunch of gang members would sit and talk, Micah was sitting there alone.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the thrill of getting on his nerves, but you decided to abandon the singing group at the table and wander over to Micah.

"Is the lone wolf too good for our little sing along?" You asked, your voice playfully teasing. "You're missing out on all the fun, but I guess it ain't nothing new."

"Not the kinda fun I'd like to have," he scoffed, "you seem to be enjoying it for the both of us, though."

You couldn't help but sigh as you plopped down next to Micah. "Quit being so grumpy, old man."

"I just don't find amusement in singing about... pussycats and ring dang doos."

You watched as he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a drag. He didn't let the smoke leave his mouth before he spoke again.

"Like, really? Ring dang doo?" He coughed. "Who comes up with these names?"

He was annoyed by your presence. Every time you talked to him, it was too much to handle. In a way you were a tease, whether consciously or not. The tone of your voice alone was enough to get Micah's imagination working. And the fact that you very often chose the dresses that were rather revealing on top only made it worse.

Even in that moment, he found it hard to focus on your face. Not like your pretty face with slightly smudged makeup did any help at all with distracting Micah from his imagination.

"It's just a silly song!" You giggled drunkenly. "Don't tell me you're too high and mighty for the good ol' ring dang doo."

The song didn't speak to Micah's soul. Even if it did, he wouldn't admit it. However, the thing the song talked about was something he could say he had an interest in.

"Doesn't take much to be too high and mighty for a song about how a girl became a whore. Seems to be your personal favorite, I wonder why."

"I just like having fun!"

You took him by surprise when you took the cigarette from between his fingers and brought it up to your own lips. And he took you by surprise when he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he just watched you taking a long drag. And you made sure to keep eye contact with Micah, even if your gaze was a little hazed with alcohol.

And then he was sure. You were doing it on purpose, every time. You were a tease, always giving him enough to keep him wanting more. Like in this moment, when he wished you'd look up at him like that with something way bigger between your lips than that cigarette.

"Having fun, huh?" Micah's voice was laced with slight frustration. He didn't want to take care of it on his own again, or having to pay for a cheap whore just to tell her to shut up so that he can visualize you in her spot. "Does having fun also mean playing with men like they're your little toys?"

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, it lingered lazily between the two of you. "And what if I do?" You asked, smiling mischievously as you tilted your head to the side. "Maybe I just like the attention."

That earned a chuckle from him. Of course you liked the attention, this was obvious.

"Can't say I blame you. But see, that's the thing about playing games... eventually someone has to call the bluff. Keep that up, and one day you'll find yourself in trouble."

"That so?" You teased him further, liking the reaction. "Let's hope one day I'll find a man who can keep up with my games."

That struck a nerve in Micah. He wanted to grab you, and show you how easily he could be that man. "I could keep up with you just fine, but the problem is you're too damn scared to follow through with any of that teasing, ain't ya?"

It wasn't a question you were simply supposed to answer, it was a challenge you were supposed to take up. And maybe alcohol made it just a little easier. "I ain't too scared."

"I'll believe it when I see it." He leaned in closer, enough to make your pulse race.

There was a heat in his gaze you haven't seen before, and everything that was happening outside of that little bubble you and Micah were in didn't really matter anymore.

"And I've been waiting too long already." He whispered, his hand finding your chin, and his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

You wanted to believe it was the alcohol that made you take his thumb in your mouth, tasting the lingering flavor of nicotine on his skin. You looked at Micah through your eyelashes, and he had to shift in spot to hide a certain emotion you woke in him that was easily visible in the sudden tightness of his pants.

He looked at you entirely captivated, letting his thumb linger in your mouth as you softly sucked on it, using your tongue in barely visible movements.

He spoke, "I think you're ready to stop playing games with me."

You pulled away, your mouth making a quiet pop sound. "Maybe I am, or maybe I like to lead you on."

It was infuriating and electrifying, the way he looked at you as if he already knew he could easily have you in seconds. But before any of you could say anything else, laughter coming from the table you had left shattered the tenstion, and you heard Karen calling out your name.

"Come on!" The girl waved at you from the table. "You ditchin' us for Micah?"

You smirked, standing up. "Guess we gotta leave it for another day." You stated, turning around to return to the table. Micah's gaze lingered on you for a long time, even when you were out of reach, his eyes remained locked on you.

[mostlymalena]

October 14th 2024 10:04am

I'm at Coffee Time for old times sake, and the sake of time. On Monday's I take bunny Jo to school and pick her up so sitting here is more efficient than Ibis.

I have had the best week in a while. Yesterday was out of a movie.

I woke up and got Waffle House with Ethan and then we got home and bottle flipped and did cartwheels with O outside for like two hours lmao. After I laid out a blanket and me and Ethan watched an episode of SVU. Hayday came back into town until Tampa is done being rained on, so he came over and Dylan joined and we all played bad mitten in the back yard for a while. It was so fun. We all just hung out outside and on my porch for like 6 hours haha. We had dinner and then everyone left and Brooklyn Bridge came over and we watched SVU till 2:30 am hehe. It was perfect.

The past week has been so fun as well. Thursday me and apple boy hung out and ran errands and such together. We lounged in the park and watched someone do a halloween shoot with purple smoke and everything haha. I went to beach bars that night dressed in a trench coat, head scarf, and big sunglasses. It was so fun!! I don't drink at the bars so I was being a lunatic for the plot I guess. Friday I spent most my day at concord with Jo and apple boy met me there. He taught me a new games called Go which was basically connect 4 but on a grid and you connect 5. I beat him in that and then we played a round of chess that I also beat him in. He is good at chess and I think he could be better than me if he played with someone else besides me haha. He snuck a film picture of me, well knowing him he did not care if I noticed or not. I did notice. I wonder if he will ever show it to me. I know he has taken pictures of me before and most of them I will never see.

Saturday night we went to a Brat dj set my friend put on a Palate. Jo and I have grown to enjoy Palate during the day. Anyways I wore something I NEVER wear. I'll add pics:

It was slutty ngl but it was the vibe of the night and hell I never wear a bra so YOLO. Anyways me and the gang go to the show and Grace is there. I, of course, instantly get sick LMAO. But we did not talk but we did look at each other. I also did blonde brows for that look and they are growing on me NGL. A lot of people told me a while back not to dye them bc I wanted to so bad and my boyfriend at the time told me I would look ugly so I didnt but COME ON. I think it looks sick.

I was a little upset seeing Grace of course, especially since she got into a relationship so quickly after she tried to patch things up with me. Bay is the best at talking me out of my head when it comes to that. She tells me I am much calmer and happier and I have to agree. My life is calmer and happier. It also sucks bc for 9 months it was chaos and I thought something was wrong with me because of that.

Im so excited for my halloween party!!!! It's going to be so so so fun. I have to remember to write everyday bc if I don't I'll forget the fun little details that make my life worth it all.

25 has been the best year of my life honestly. I'm so excited for 26 and beyond. I'm so glad I was unsuccessful at my suicide attempts when I was younger.

I want to live a long time.

Thats all for now, gotta review applicants for a content creator I'm hiring. Idk if me and apple boy are hanging today school is busy for him. I havent told him when I'm leaving, gonna Irish goodbye it.

[eliijahs]

Gang still pouring 4's up, foreign

Still throwing 4's up, foreign

Lil Rari skrrt, foreign

SickBoy smoking purp, foreign

Shit, everything I do foreign

Two cellphones staying foreign

Two goth hoes, foreign

Pull up real fast, foreign

4's up, foreign

Doors up, foreign

Can't slow down, ayy, foreign

Four in the skeet, foreign

When I bling, when I slide, foreign

4's up when I cry, foreign

Damn, she wanna take a nigga guap, why, why?

'Cause I got that cash and the guap, foreign

Pull off in a white Rari, foreign

Counting all this guap, I'm sorry, foreign

Ayy, shit, white Force foreign

Ayy, smoking on this purp, snoring

[Hook]

Foreign, ayy

Foreign, ayy, ayy

Foreign, skrrt, ayy

Foreign, skrrt, ayy

Foreign, skrrt, stacking

Foreign, ayy, shit

Foreign, huh

Foreign, ayy, stack

Foreign, skrrt, ayy

Foreign, 4's up

Foreign, ayy, gang still pouring 4's

Foreign, ayy, shit, these diamonds looking, ayy

Foreign, ayy, skrrt, ayy, shine, ayy

Foreign

[Outro]

Gang still pouring 4's up, foreign

4's up

Pouring... foreign

Can't slow down, foreign

Four in the skeet, foreign

When I bling, when I slide, foreign

4's up when I cry, foreign

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SOULJA LUV RARI WORLD (Original Version) (2016)

Sickboyrari

1.

GVCCI WINGS FLY THRU (Missing Lyrics)

2.

INAH PARTY DANCIN WID MAH SHOOTAH

3.

Shyning on Western Ave

4.

Better Dayz Ack

5.

Bleeding My Life Away

6.

Codeine Tears in Her Fanta

7.

IN CLUB LIV BO$$Y

8.

LUH 4REN

9.

Atlanta Hood Witch

10.

Styling with the Tec

11.

Taliban Ave

12.

BLAC CHYNA

13.

DICE GAME AUDI TRUCK (Missing Lyrics)

14.

Holding Choppas in HD

15.

Throw It Back

16.

Slide Up on Yuh Bae

17.

HOOD CRY 10000

18.

MAFIOSO GWUAP

19.

Where Your Souljas At Where Your Soulja Rag

20.

12k MIGO (Missing Lyrics)

21.

Running Round

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Credits

Producer

Big Los

Writer

Sickboyrari

Release Date

October 17, 2015

Songs That Sample LUH 4REN

Retarded genies 2 by Yabujin

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Rap

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