#lot of details I still need to figure out but it'll be a fun read I hope | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grave-z-boy · 10 months

Note

Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .

I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.

Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader

Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.

Word count: 6,011

Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn

Sept. 15, 18XX

My Dear Arthur Morgan

It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.

I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.

Always yours, D/n.

Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.

The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.

You weren’t much better.

This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.

You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.

You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.

You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.

You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.

But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.

Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.

But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…

You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.

You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.

But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.

The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.

You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.

Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.

Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.

When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,

“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.

“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”

She groaned, “paranoid.”

Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.

“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”

“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”

Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”

“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.

“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”

You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”

“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”

“Johnny Flores?” You asked.

She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”

“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”

��Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”

You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”

You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.

That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.

You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.

——-

A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.

“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”

Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”

“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“

“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.

“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”

“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.

“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.

“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.

“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.

“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”

“Go to hell, y/n.”

“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”

“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”

“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”

You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.

“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”

He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.

The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.

The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.

After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.

It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.

Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.

You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.

You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.

——-

Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.

There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.

You were out there somewhere.

Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.

He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.

When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.

Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.

The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.

Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.

“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.

“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.

“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”

“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”

———

You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.

“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”

He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”

“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”

“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“

“Arthur.”

You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.

He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”

Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.

“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”

You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”

“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”

You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.

Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.

Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.

“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.

“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”

“Thank you kindly-“

“Y/n-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”

You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.

You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.

You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.

————

Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.

He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.

He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.

“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”

Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.

“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”

Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.

“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”

“A bartender and a man?”

“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”

“Tilly..”

“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”

Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.

————

You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.

“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.

You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-

“D/n..?”

You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.

“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”

“Lucky guess..”

Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”

“We should talk-”

“Yes, we should-”

You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.

You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.

When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.

“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”

You pulled out one of the stools.

“I told you I needed change.”

He pulled another out beside you.

“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”

“This must be so confusing.”

“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”

Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.

“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”

Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.

You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.

“You said you aren't happy anymore..”

You blinked.

“I wasn't.”

“How about now? Are you happy now?”

“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”

He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.

Then, when he did speak,

“I still love you.”

You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”

Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.

Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’

Before he could, you took a chance.

“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”

———-

You laughed, he missed your laugh.

“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”

“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.

“How have you not been caught yet?”

“I bought new clothes!”

“Why couldn't you do that first?”

“I needed to avoid suspicion.”

“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”

You laughed again.

You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.

“I will not take this from an outlaw!”

“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”

“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”

“‘Good’ like what?”

“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”

He looked over at you a small smile on his face.

“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”

“Well I found a baby naming book.”

He sat up, giving you a look.

“Are you serious?”

You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.

“You're an ass.”

“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”

“You could have!”

“But I didn't-”

Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.

“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.

“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”

“Goddamnit.”

“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”

“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”

He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.

“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”

He sighed, dragging himself out the door.

Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”

“‘Seems like a handful.”

“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”

“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”

“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”

Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”

You stared at him for a moment.

“You?”

“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”

“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”

“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”

“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”

“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”

The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.

Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.

By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.

It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.

“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.

You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”

“No, no I'm just…real tired.”

“Didn't get much sleep?”

“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”

“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”

“I want to look at you, I missed you-”

“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”

He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.

“You have a nice back too-”

“Good night, Arthur.”

Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.

#arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x male!reader #rdr2x male!reader #male!reader #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male y/n #x male y/n #arthur Morgan x male #✮ — z-boy

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flymetosnarryland · 7 months

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A little progress.

I'm working on "Infraction." My precious baby, uh. This art is part of it in a way. Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape. When people are falling in love everything seems easy, but then life happen.

(I'd like to talk about how things are going with Infraction.)

I'm back on it since couple of weeks and working on it is intense (my brain is literally boiling). I don't think I ever planned a story for that long. The first idea has born 6th January this year. I was writing down (like crazy) everything I wanted to be in this fic. During first months it was chaotic and messy, but brought me so much joy. When I've had everything that (I thought) I needed, I wrote first chapters, yeah. And then shared them, because was so excited about all of it and just couldn't wait. Gosh.

Now I... hm... well, maybe not "regret" it, but I think, I totally should have wait. Why is that? First thing first, this story is not ready yet for being written in, you know, final version. It's too fat, lol.

I may want too much from it. There is a lot, like, seriously, A LOT of things to cover. First notes took me around 80 pages and it had many gaps in it (too much if you ask me). Things I needed to figure out and fill in, in the same time making everything work together. Because this Snarry is not sprinkled with crime. It's filled with murder, political shenanigans, family shiteshow and tough, not always appropriate, love. There are secrets and lies, blackmails and history that matter. Backstory of many people, whose actions over the years supposed to bring us to the point where we are now. And, you know, all of it gives me the thrill. First time in my life I feel like a true Puppet Master.

So, couple weeks ago I started to write a proper outline, if I can call it like that. To put everything in order and, going from the very beginning, to fill all the gaps. To answer all the questions I was asking myself in notes. To figure out the missing clues, some details without I couldn't go further and with that - to find out how characters will change facing new situations. How they will grow (I really love this part). Sometimes I think, "why am I even doing it?" I could just write some cosy, little fic where Harry and Severus' silly problems would be the main goal of the story. Like, focusing on them should be enough, right? Why am I going for all the other things, if I just want them to shag and have their happy end after all? 😂

Well, if it's not for fun, I don't know the other reason. The level of excitement is just incredible. I don't know, if what I'm writing is good or bad. If it really has sense, because I've always seen myself rather as a potato, not as a great mastermind who can plot some good shite, you know. That said, "Infraction" feels even more challenging that I ever thought it will be. But I feel deep inside that I can do it. Going step by step where the main plan leads and... it just feels good.

I've started in October 1989. Now I'm in January 2011. It means that I managed to finish everything that happen before the fic starts, lol. And, actually, I almost covered the first part of the book. So, two more to go? Hehe. It'll take time, yes. It's crazy how much I want to continue writing the main chapters, not only swim in the plan-phase. Drawing the series of "Muggle London" art helped me a lot with easing this itch. However, it's still there. I know, though, that I have to finish it. The whole outline, I mean. Without it, things can go south.

That said, I can't tell how long it will take. Couple weeks? Maybe months. This is really... a lot of work and I want to be proud of it. Even more so, because this fic means a lot to me. I know it may not be, you know, mind blowing or something. But I hope that giving it all my love, it could be, you know, not that bad for reading, hehe.

#Infraction #Muggle London #Eileen Prince #Tobias Snape #personal #talking about writing

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jess-the-vampire · 1 year

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Hello, I'm just asking about an update on your Sky fic and when you think you might get back to finishing it, or if you're leaving it unfinished? I haven't actually read the latest chapter or two yet, I was thinking of rereading at some point to refresh my memory before I get round to those since I easily forget a lot of details.

I am planning to finish it, I want to get that stated first and foremost.

I also plan to finish the other fic as well.

When is harder to say.

Writing both used to be easier when I didn't have a job and a lot more commitments on my plate, I absolutely don't have the freetime I once had.

And losing my dog absolutely threw me out of wack.

That said, I haven't fully given up on it, i still make time when I do have it, so even if I'm not updating monthly like I used to, it hasn't been forgotten.

I think currently its been a matter of trying to find a new system that works for me to get new chapters out at a reasonable pace. Writing is a lengthy process tbh and my work and sleep schedule is less then ideal.

I think right now, I'm considering trying to write slightly shorter chapters then I once did to reduce time and make it easier for myself.

Now, let it be known the chapters are in the works, and I still wanna see it through to the end.

If I can figure out a system that works, hopefully very soon I'll be back on track, this just has been a hiatus if anything and tbh maybe it was a much needed one to get me refreshed and back into it.

I do thank everyone for being patient, sorry it isn't what it used to be, but I promise once I get myself in order it'll be worth the wait.

And hopefully if I get to do the same for the other girls it'll also be fun.

I do genuinely miss writing stories, wish me luck.

#star vs the forces of evil #svstfoe #svtfoe #sky and the forces of the multiverse

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aria0fgold · 9 months

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Do you have any advice for writing a fanfic and/or writing in general?

Just write it! Worry about editing later. Take your time with it and to not compare your writing with anyone!

One thing I had to unlearn in my system is the constant need to edit the stuff I write while still writing it. You won't get anywhere if you kept doing that and end up frustrating yourself more.

Just keep writing it even if it ends up a jumbled mess, if there's a scene you don't know how it'll turn out yet just put stuff like this: (scene at a building with cracks on the wall, debris here and there. describe it later) and move onto the next parts!

If the scene is just dialogue then keep at that and just write another reminder! Like this: (character a is frustrated at character b. add that indicator later)

It's a first draft for a reason so let yourself be as messy as possible with it and polish it afterwards!

Taking your time with it cuz writing has no time limit at all, especially if you're a new writer. If you keep thinking about invisible deadlines, you'll end up stressing yourself and burning yourself out of writing, which will just make you not write in general.

Annnd the last one is something that helped me a lot to break outta my slump back then. Whenever you read a book or fanfic, you fall in love with the author's writing and think: I want to write like that. Just like with an artist's art and go: I want to draw like that.

In a way, if you're just starting out, you subconciously try to replicate that. But just like in any forms of creative expression. Writing has its style as well and every writer has their own style. It isn't noticeable at first cuz how can there be style when it's all just words and text?

Pick up a book, and pick another from a different author but the same genre. You'll start to see their own style in the way they form their paragraphs, in a way they show the emotion of the scene, one author may like to repeat words for emphasis while the other may only do it once but the impact of the scene stayed with you.

So don't replicate anyone's writing style.

Cuz everyone is unique and no matter what happens, what you write will always turn out differently than what other people write. Finding your own style in writing is as much of a journey as an artist finding their own art style so don't stress too much if you can't find your own yet! It's all about trial and error, and about appealing to yourself the most. So don't think about the audience, think about what YOU want.

If you write like this, will you like it? If you like it, then there will surely be people that like it as well. Will you hate it? If you hate it, there will always be people that likes it anyway. But doing what you hate is never a good thing. So might as well do what you love and have fun with it!

Oh! Also also, nearly forgot. Play around with perspectives. If you got stuck at a certain scene, switch the perspective to another character present or to a narrator to figure out how you want to incorporate certain details to what your current character can perceive. Or you can also just have multiple character perspectives in the story, just remember to show an indicator for the readers! (Like: Character A's Perspective at the very top of the chapter, or make it so that the monologue's 'voice' is different than the previous one)

#arianswer #anon #ohgod im the worst person to ask for advice #im a beginner-ish fanfic writer but i did get to learn buncha stuff despite it so hoping that can help you too!#also in the perspective part #that applies with stuff like: first person. 2nd person. 3rd person.#play around with it and find one that you like the most!#frankly i was a 1st person writer before i started doing fanfics where i switched to 3rd person #1st person was hard for me cuz how do indicator actions? my mc gonna sound like an insane person noticing the smallest of details #i still wanna try 1st person tho so im gonna get back to that in the future #so if one pov doesnt work out. do a different one and just experiment!#if nothing works out. rest! take a break! then try again later

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razzle-zazzle · 2 years

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Morris x Dion x Gisu HC's?

Anon. Anon you have activated my brainrot Anon I am going to ramble I have so many thoughts about these three they are my blorbos they are my mental stim toys and I am going to subject you to my brainrot over them.

This got,,, so very long (and there's still so much more I could say lmao) so I'm putting it under a cut

Okay okay so. Dion and Gisu are making googoo eyes at each other. Morris has hired Queepie for K.L.O.B. and they're set up to become friends. Gisu and Morris are on friendly enough terms for Gisu to help Morris fix up a radio and hang out in the treehouse. So there's plenty of ground for Dion and Morris to interact and become idiot rival friends. And there's plenty of opportunity for Gisu, Dion, and Morris to end up in a polycule. I have a lot of thoughts for how they end up all dating but I'll get into those at some other time.

For now, have a whole bunch of little details and headcanons about these three:

They don't announce it right away! Mostly because they kind of stumbled onto the idea to all date each other and are still trying to figure things out. So everyone assumes Dion & Gisu are dating while Morris is just a friend. Up until Norma finds Gisu and Morris making out and confronts them over it.

Dion and Morris have the same idiot rivalry. Enemies to lovers? No. They are enemy lovers. They bicker and challenge each other to stupid dares and annoy each other. They bicker over what to get Gisu as a gift one moment and then they're making out the next. Being annoying is their love language.

They can be tender! Dion is a huge sap, and Morris isn't out to bug him all of the time. There is a mutual attraction; their rivalry is a part of that. It's their dynamic. They'll go at it and call each other names but the moment someone other than Gisu tries to mess with either of them they're not having it.

However, that doesn't mean they're perfectly aligned all the time. One thing that Dion and Morris aren't great at in their teenage years is knowing when and how to de-escalate without outside interference. They get better about it as they age, but if whatever dumb dare they're doing doesn't end conclusively they can very easily blow it up into a massive argument. Gisu does generally interfere before this can happen, but there is the rare genuine fight between these two :[

By the time they hit their early twenties they've gotten a lot better about not going at each other's throats, and don't really need outside intervention to deescalate and calm down. By the time they hit their thirties all of their friends describe them as having "mellowed out" but that is a lie. They still mock fight and jokingly threaten to break up. They still go out of their way to annoy the other affectionately. They still banter and get into dumb dares. They're just well adjusted enough to not blow up at each other if something goes wrong, and they're much more ride or die.

Genderfluid Dion! He's their girlfriend, boyfriend, partner, whatever—it's up to what she's feeling. When they're older and married, Dion goes by such titles as spouse, wubby, lover, wusband, wife, and occasionally "obnoxious husband."

Morris isn't as big on huge romantic gestures, but Dion and Gisu? Giant saps. Morris will occasionally go out of his way to pull off a big romantic gesture because he knows it'll make Dion and Gisu melt. Fireworks, romantic dates, rose petals and candles—Morris has read a few of Gisu's favorite romance novels purely for the purpose of making his girlfriend and partner swoon. And it works.

Dion and Gisu will also pull the same thing on each other. Gifts, dates, flowers—they almost have a soft rivalry in who can make the other swoon harder.

Dion and Gisu have a lot of fun coming up with increasingly sappy nicknames for each other. And for Morris, who will occasionally join in with more ridiculous suggestions just to see his girlfriends laugh.

Morris and Dion have a lot of mean little nicknames for each other. Morris calls Dion Dumbass (affectionate) and Dion will call him Douchebag (affectionate). Morris also steals Flipside from Gisu. They will call each other "babe" and "dude" and "sweetie" but only when nobody is looking. There are more nicknames and terms of endearment but this list is getting,,, so very long already.

Dion loves when Gisu rambles about a project she's working on or a book she's reading . They only understand half of it but there's just something about the cadence of Gisu's voice when she's excited or working through a problem that makes Dion soft. Dion can and will prompt Gisu to talk about things that interest her, just so they can hear her voice.

No but for real if the Dion/Morris corner of the dynamic is idiot rivalry then the Dion/Gisu corner is tender sap. Oh, there's plenty of teenage dumbassery (and plenty of silly shenanigans when they're adults), plenty of sick stunts and attempts to impress each other. But they're both soft romantics at heart who have tender little fantasies about holding the other and spending time with them and just. being sappy together.

Morris and Gisu weren't even sure if they were romantically interested in each other when the three of them started dating. Their relationship was more of a slowburn, with the two of them going on a few dates to feel things out and eventually developing a soft and simple romance. They come to appreciate a lot of little details about each other, and they enjoy spending quality time together. Morris and Gisu have a very strong friends to lovers feel to their dynamic.

That's not to say it's all sunshine and roses! Being annoying is simply a part of Morris' love language. And Gisu enjoys clever banter a lot. They will needle each other for fun—they're comfortable enough with each other to tease and playfight. This comfort and trust only increases as they become more accomplished as agents—as do their friendships with the other agents.

Morris also likes it when Gisu rambles! He will also ramble about ideas for K.L.O.B. to her and they will get into very long discussions about psychic powers. They ramble at each other often.

All three together? Chaos. They banter and egg each other on and spend time together just for the sake of it. They're tender they're dumbasses they're friends they're in love they're just,,,,, augh.

Love languages! Dion and Morris both love quality time, Dion is very big on physical affection, Morris will lay it on thick with the verbal affection, Morris and Gisu both love gifts and gestures of appreciation, and Dion and Gisu are both huge saps who hoard praise like a dragon hoards treasure.

As adults, they have to balance their love lives with their individual ambitions—the Aquatos may be tangled up with the Psychonauts, but only Raz is an agent. The family hits upon the solution of spending half the year on tour, and the other half in the quarry. So Dion spends half the year traveling (and calling Gisu and Morris very often), and the other half at the Motherlobe with Gisu & Morris. Every few years Gisu will take the projects that don't need a full lab, and Morris will take K.L.O.B. on tour, and the two of them will join Dion on her yearly trip. The three of them are satisfied with what they've worked out, and remain satisfied with it well into adulthood. It takes a lot of work and communication, but that's just how their relationship has always been. It was worth it when they were teens still figuring things out, and it's worth it when they're adults with established lives.

Marriage!! My main marriage headcanon is that they each get two rings, for six total, so they each have one ring for both of the other two. They worked together to make them: they all had an input in the designs, and Morris and Dion helped out with the grunt work, while Gisu handled the more technical aspects.

#ask zaz #dion aquato #morris martinez #gisu nerumen #dion/morris/gisu #no no no you don't understand. these three have eaten my brain #i have so many thoughts and feelings about these three as a trio #be it romantic or platonic #dion & morris' idiot rivalry. gisu & dion's tender closeness. morris & gisu's mutual trust.#the three of them together as chaotic lovers #also for the ''obnoxious husband'' bit: a coworker called dion that once and dion thought it was hilarious #so now it's on the list of terms that gisu & morris use for him #oughhh there's so much more i can say about these three but this post is long enough as is #it's so laggy rn guys lmao #psychonauts

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rainbowgaez · 1 year

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How would you recommend someone in their late 20s go about learning the guitar? Do you think it's too late to build the right muscle memory?

Age is not a factor in building muscle memory. Pattern recognition and memorization is all you need to pick up on guitar.

I would recommend you get it into it the same way I would recommend to anyone of any age: find out what you want to play – a style, a genre, a band – and imitate that. I know that sounds pretty vague, so I'll try my best to explain what I mean.

I started playing guitar when I was 12 because I really wanted to play along with Green Day songs. At first, I didn't worry about sounding good or getting it totally right, I worried about matching the notes to the song. For a year, I played everything on one string, just matching the note I was playing to the root note of whatever song I was playing along with. Eventually, I got the hang of the fundamental concepts by doing that. Green Day was a really good beginner band to pick because much of their catalog is comprised of songs that only ever utilize rudimentary techniques. Because of that, they were the perfect jumping off point for me.

I ran into a problem that I imagine anyone else would in this scenario, though: eventually, I wanted to play something else, and what I wanted to play was much harder than anything I'd learned previously.

Thankfully, the cool part about learning guitar is that it's an incredibly popular instrument, and guitar players really fucking love showing off. As such, if you look up <any song> "guitar cover" on youtube, you're bound to find someone else who has played the song and filmed it. If you can find a video, watch them play it, try to imitate what they're doing.

If that doesn't work out for you, there are tabs. Tabs might look hard to read, but they're pretty easy. There are tutorials on how to read them in more detail out there.

If none of that works for you, I suggest two things: learn the basic cowboy chords and/or learn scales in a three notes per string format. Learning chords will get your hand used to certain shapes that will be common across the fretboard, and doing three notes per string format will help nimble up your fingers. Eventually, it'll become easy to do those, and while it might be fun to do those forever, it's important not to stop there. Once you get the hang of chords and the three notes per string scales, learn different scale shapes, learn more advanced chords. Keep challenging yourself to keep it interesting.

You're going to sound bad in the beginning. You're going to press frets you don't mean to, you're going to be slow to switch chords, you're going to get frustrated because you can't figure out how anyone is doing shit so fast. When you get frustrated, remember that guitar playing should be a fun activity. You should become good enough at your instrument to facilitate whatever ideas come to your head, but know that it will take you much time and effort to get to that point, and it's okay if that's the case.

And just because I feel it needs to be reiterated: age is not a reason you can't play guitar. I may have been playing guitar for nearly two decades which made it a little easier, but less than two years ago I was 28 and I learned the scales and a lot of the more advanced chord formations. It still took a lot of work for me, but I managed to do it by practicing and keeping at it consistently. If I can do it with my pudding brain, I'm sure anyone else can. Hope this helps, and if you have more specific questions, feel free to shoot me another ask.

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chainofclovers · 1 year

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🛒⛔🤗

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

In all my fic I think I try to get really small and zoomed-in. Like I want there to be a specific texture to the sensory experiences a character is going through, so I try to be as concrete and succinct as possible about setting descriptions and I try to make sure any physical detail is contributing to the tone in some way. Writing this out this seems very obvious and uninteresting, but it's important to me! I really admire writers who can paint this massive landscape and have a bunch of stuff going on, but I've accepted that my stories are about small things.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

I've abandoned at least 20 things. For Ted Lasso, I have two fics that I truly abandoned (as in they died and are buried in my Abandoned folder). They were both tiny stubs, no more than a couple paragraphs, and I think I ended up capturing the tone/substance somewhere else. I have a few more TL stories that still live in my In Progress folder, and it's possible (likely) that about two of them will never become anything that gets published. One because the idea itself turned out to be the joy, and one because I got the fun of writing the tiny part I liked and sharing it in discord, but didn't feel like continuing.

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

It's okay to care about engagement, comments, and responses! Wanting to connect to a community and write for an audience is a good thing, and anyone who makes "write for yourself" a holier than thou thing is just being judgy. BUT you should not write with that end-point engagement as your sole motivation because your process will start to feel empty, and you might end up feeling disappointed. Basically just trust that your relationship to your own words and your relationship to your audience (both potential and realized) will change over time and ebb and flow and all that and that is okay and normal.

Sometimes you will work on something for a very long time and feel truly proud of it and maybe some people will read it and enjoy it but posting it will end up a bit anticlimactic. And other times you'll write for 40 minutes, post it, and the crowd will go wild. That doesn't mean one story is "better" or "more successful" than the other, and it doesn't mean your hard work was wasted. It just means it can be hard to predict how things go, so ideally you'll be happy you spent months on the one thing *and* happy you spent 40 minutes on the other thing and ended up with two stories you can get behind!

Finding a few fandom friends who are your ideal readers is priceless. These are people who might beta for you if you want to work with an editor, but even more importantly they are people who will talk about characters together, support each other's creative endeavors, challenge each other, be your friend, and cultivate the conversations that are part of what makes writing meaningful. I'm writing about this in the context of fic, but I think this is important regardless of the kind of writing you're doing.

Read novels, short stories, poems, fic, good journalism, etc. Just take in lots of kinds of words and figure out what resonates with you and what doesn't and why that is. It'll inform your own writing and you don't need to be afraid of being overly influenced by others.

Comment on other people's work. When you love something a writer or artist has done, try to find a way to tell them.

Don't apologize in your author's notes. The chef and food writer Julia Turshen says that disclaimers and apologies don't taste good, and that applies to a story as much as it applies to a meal you're serving. Personally, I find incessant apologizing before a fic annoying; I'd rather decide for myself if I like something!

(@thesumdancekid, your answer to this one is really good and I cosign it!)

From fanfic writer emoji ask.

#thesumdancekid #asks #fic writer emoji ask meme #meme #writer meme #about me #writing

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imightbeabuddhist · 1 year

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Salutations Tumblr.

Welcome to My Blog:

By Z.D. Burkitt

The question on your mind has to be, but who are you? Well, let me answer your question with a question. Did I forget the "by" line? No, I'm really asking. Anyway.

I'm Z.D. Burkit. Z for short. I've been a hobbyist writer for 25 years. Now, I'm a Copywriter. Can you tell? -covers my username with my hand- So, I figured I'd introduce myself. As I said, I've been writing for 25 years. However, I haven't published anything other than crappy fanfiction on fanfiction.net. Assuming that website still exists. Like a blacksmith at their* forge, I've learned much about writing, honing my craft(we'll get there.* <--pun). As the name suggests, I'll mostly be posting Copywriting Memes. Sometimes it'll just be the meme. Other times I might share why I like it and any insights I gleaned from it. I'll also post regular blogs and the occasional short story. Now it's time to address the elephant in the refrigerator.

Darn that Pesky Pachyderm:

I am Non-binary. No, I won't bring this up unless I need to. Nor do I care what pronouns you use. They, he, she, or neo-pronouns are all fine. I'll leave that up to you. I should also say I am Pansexual and engaged. As I get more comfortable, I'll give more details. One final thing, I have ADHD. Since this is my first post, I think I'll leave the housekeeping there. This seems like a good time to get the elephant out of my now-destroyed fridge. -sigh-

Some more Things about Me:

I'm fascinated by fungi. I guess you can call me an amateur mycologist. Mushrooms, lichens, and all fungi are mesmerizing. I'm working on a story about super-powered teens living in 2100. The Golden Trio in my novel are LGBTQIA+ and Neurodiverse characters. River, the MC, is a Genderfluid Pansexual shapeshifter. One of their best friends is an AMAB non-binary gay person. The other is a cis-gendered bisexual guy. I promise River is not a self-insert. You'll come to know that as I add more to this blog. I am a big-ol' nerd. As evidenced by my near-comprehensive knowledge of the Camp Half-Blood Chronicles. Feel free to test me. I'm also well-versed in Destiny and Gear of War lore. Despite not owning any, I have a growing appreciation for excellent watches. They're just cool. Although I'm no car expert, that's what we call an understatement, kids; I do enjoy rewatching episodes of The Grand Tour. While we're on shows, I'm constantly binging Start Trek DS9. It's my comfort show. I aspire to one day get a Private Pilot's license. And yet, I've never flown. I've never even seen the inside of a plane that was about to take off—just a few at an aviation museum. While we're on the topic, one of my favorite podcasts is Black Box Down; it's all about aviation disasters. Listen to it if you're afraid to fly like I was. You'll realize just how rare these things are. Not only that, but the steps taken to prevent them from happening again. Not a spon. I have no sponsorships. I'm an anime fan, shocking, I know. And I'm clearly a fan of italics. And, like David Tannat's Doctor, I can ramble when I get going, can't I? Here are a couple of rapid-fire facts about me.

I practice lockpicking as a hobby - Scrolling through TikTok, I came across a guy called McNallyOffical, who made it look like a lot of fun. So, I bought a cheap lockpicking kit of off; I'll call it the Everything Store and a cheap (read Master Lock) lock. As soon as it arrived, I stared with the clear practice lock, and once I stopped pretending I was in Skyrim, I got it on my second try. Now that little clink sound of the shackle popping is just uggh. -chief's kiss-

I'm 420-friendly - That one speaks for itself.

I'm an ex-Atheist - I'll admit this is partially due to the anger I felt when I had to deal with any religious or spiritual things that wasn't good for my mental health. So I took a step back from the community and soon found I wasn't angry more often than not. I still respect and listen to many Atheists like Penn Jillette and his business partner, Mr. Teller. Jillette's book God No! is still a personal favorite. The anger made me decide to believe in all gods or none. I have an answer to the ontological question do you believe in god? I believe in every god. I'll delve into that later.

I do believe Science - Despite believing in spiritual things, I am an avid proponent and communicator of Science. No Flearth or anti-vax nonsese here. One spiritual practice I reject is holistic crap and other snake oil. Crystals are pretty, but they can't heal shit IRL.

This one should be obvious - I'm someone you can come to if you're LGBTQIA+ and you need to talk.

I have depression, anxiety, and ADHD - I'm very open and vocal about my, and mental health in general. It's important, and you are too. Never forget that.

I think that's an excellent place to stop. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Take care.

-Z

The Convival Copywriter

P.S.

If you're interested in an INTRODUCTORY OFFER for my services, email me at [email protected].

-The Convival Copywriter

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

moonflower.

dialogue prompt #6: “It's 3 o'clock in the morning”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationships, fluff

word count: 1,550

warnings: making out

summary: a 3am walk in the city with your boyfriend

a/n: got this inspiration from an instagram reel and I wanted to transfer that entire feel into this one shot. hope you guys enjoyy and please drop feedbacks it really boosts motivation!! p.s as soon as I completed this, butter official teaser was released SOOOO EXCITED!!!

masterlist

“It's 3 o'clock in the morning”, you take a breath in and resume kissing him, hands tangling in the locks at his nape.

“I know”, he rasps, pulling back to bring your foreheads together, taking a moment to immerse the image of your swollen lips and cold skin of your face “It'll be fun baby”.

You don't know who exactly started kissing. Jungkook came back from his night shift not long ago and he expected you to be asleep. But he was beyond happy to catch you peacefully listening to music and waiting for him, paying attention to arbitrary details of the city still alive below. What began as a welcome kiss soon turned into a brief makeout-session, the first press of his lips against yours truly reminding how much you missed Jungkook throughout the day.

And during small breaks of catching each other's breath, he suggested for a night walk, much like a date since he had been too busy this week.

“Okay”, you huff, still feeling your chest squeezing together to get the normal breathing rate. A smile tugs at his lips and with one final smooch he leaves you to change your clothes into something safe enough for walking through the cold night.

Maybe it's because you had been with Jungkook for so long that you basically adapted a lot of his fashion sense and little habits. When you step out of your small shared apartment, you both look like members of a punk band, all black and leather.

Jungkook smiles down at you, remembering how much you have changed, it felt like you grew bored of colors as well, much of your aesthetics going monochrome at this point. There was a time Jungkook even went worried about it, thinking you were somehow adjusting to him. But you reassured him that he was all the color in your life you needed.

Jungkook interlocks fingers with you, squeezing palms together as he leads the way down stairs.

“Where are we going exactly?”, you ask, an obvious curiosity he hasn't clarified yet.

“I don't know really. We'll figure that out”.

He always had a way with words which made you warm and curious at the same time. You just smile in return and wrap your hands around his leather clad arms and walk along.

You liked this. Dates with no particular destination to be in. Just strolling till your legs are tired, eating street food, getting coffee together or studying at the public library because your apartment is located at a not so silent heart of the city.

And you liked Jungkook very much too. It sometimes feels like lopsided that it demands to overflow from underneath your skin, and sometimes when you are making love to him or cuddling his head close to your chest, you believe he feels it too.

It hits you all of a sudden that you never shared those three words. Never ever uttered them in this two years of relationship and you question them now. Totally random of a realisation just like the day you woke up in a cold sweat accepting to self that you have to confess to Jungkook.

The first place you stop by is a heavily packed food truck selling korean food. It's a usually visited one so Jungkook ask for the customary meal, fire noodles. His favorite of street foods not because there wasn't anything better, he just adored your blush flushed face when you are done.

“Babe?”, he tears open the ketchup and squeezes the content with his chopsticks while watching you, “you good?”.

Apparently you had spaced out, still fueling on the thread of thoughts from earlier. You ground yourself to the present in a jolt, “I'm alright”. You give him a nervous smile.

Jungkook pulls his chair close to yours so that your arms and knees are touching, your skin growing hot despite not touching your noodles yet.

“What are you thinking about hm?”, he demands to know, but not intimidating you more than the point. He busies his hands mixing the ketchup into your noodles instead.

“I love you Jungkook”, you blurt, eyes planted on a random spot on the ground waiting for an outcome.

“And you realized that now baby?”, he chuckles, watching you all shy. He places his noodles from his lap to the table in front to fully face your direction.

“I love you too baby, so much. And I've said that so many times before, when you are sleeping, or when you were not listening. I think I was not as brave as you”, he confesses.

Your chest swells in warmth knowing he had always told you this. You peck his nose and dig into the food, finally able to feel the hunger settling down.

Content with the late night meal, you begin to stroll again after Jungkook laughs and cups your flushed red face. You always hated spicy food as a child but then this is another one of those quirks you caught up being Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“Where do you wanna go baby”, he asks, feeling lost of a trajectory for the date and now you are equally lost too, dwelled in the fact that he will lead the night.

“I don't know”, you state and at the sight of a specific place you continue, “wanna get some drinks?”.

Jungkook immediately giggles, “We both know you lose your mind over half a glass of rum love”.

You knit your brows together for a pout, “Well then you can carry me back home can't you? That would be romantic”, you press yourself to him for no apparent reason.

“Carry you all the way home?”, he muses, holding your whining head softly on his palms while pecking your forehead.

“C’mon Koo then why do you workout for three hours all day? Make some use of your muscle”

“Oh I make plenty use of these muscles and you know it”, he teases back and you smack his arms in response.

After a few very cliche comebacks you both agree to drink the night away. Good thing that Jungkook had a good tolerance to alcohol among you two. Carrying his drunk body single handedly for a smaller human like you would be a tedious task. The math was correct here, and so you start slurping your glass of whatever cheap whiskey they had.

You were enjoying all of this, truly to the core and to the point that you swore there is nothing better to life than this. But Jungkook always felt otherwise.

You see, you are not a rich couple. Just normal millenials who go to college supported with scholarships and debts to pay, several part time jobs and a very low key life where you prioritise your expenses and plan finance together. A couple who has not went on classy restaurant dates in glittery tight fitting dress, or even a sundress and expensive suits. He always wonders about the things that could make you happier and maybe one day he can afford that Italian restaurant you once said is really nice because your sister was proposed by her husband there. You'll look so beautiful in a dress and he can't wait to allure on that.

“Koo?”, you slur, already feeling consciousness leaving your body, “What are you thinking about now hmm?”

He smiles faintly at you swirling his drink and bringing it to his lips to think upon the answer a bit.

“Nothing babe. You look so beautiful right now”, he says.

And immediately you search for a reflecting surface to check yourself out, and that's because you're drunk. Your more sober self usually ends up processing a lot of butterflies at the pit of your tummy.

“I am!?”, you beam, finally able to see a very blurred something of your bummed out face with hair falling over and maybe there's even a little dried drool at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah”, he giggles, scooping you up in his arms for a tight hug, “Let's get home shall we?”

“Carry me pwese”

“C’mon love”, he helps you climb on his back for a piggyback ride, “I'll carry you”.

You tug your limbs a little tighter around Jungkook, he pats under your thigh to loosen up so he can walk. He listens to random mumbles you are whispering to him and he smiles occasionally, carefully paying attention to everything.

“I love you so much sometimes I don't know what to do with myself”, you say and Jungkook stops dead in his track to process the words a bit.

His skin turns red which you can't see and probably you wouldn't mutter such things on your sobering. And he is glad. Glad to know that you are content with what it is. His mind stirs around, his own set of booze blazing the thought further.

“Why did you stop Koo? You tired? Should I carry you?”

“You love me that much?”, he asks, completely dodging your questions.

“Yes. So much”, you kiss his cheeks, pressing down harder then usual to prove your point.

He is convinced you are the one who has a way with the words. You say things which brings him to his knees and you remain so oblivious to it.

“Let's get you home”, he states through a smile.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

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nakunakunomi · 2 years

Text

Why I am less active ~ again ~

Cw: mental health // selfshipping // spoilers [One Piece]

Might delete this later, but I am having a moment and I honestly do not know where else to post this without coming across as annoying or weird or whatever.

Please DO NOT REBLOG.

So, it's been an emotional week or two, I have been sick because of sleep deprivation on top of it all and I am pretty sure shark week is coming up, so I am being an emotional mess right now. I won't bother y'all with the details, cause frankly, they don't matter. But I can feel my mental health just spiraling down and I have no way to stop it. It'll soon be the summer holiday, and hopefully I will have some time to recuperate.

Anyway, that's not what it is about here. This is about the most recent OP chapter leaks, altho by now it might actually be out (idk, I usually actually don't follow the manga *this* closely). If you're not there and you don't want to be spoiled then please consider this your final warning to stop reading.

So, in the final chapter Ashura and Izo died. Now... I have not been following super closely, and I am not even sure why I checked the spoilers earlier. I know it's fictional characters, trust me, I am 10000% aware. And yet. Izo's death has hit me a little harder than I expected.

For the past 2 years, he's been my main comfort character and I was actively selfshipping with him. Not so much on Tumblr because I am too self-aware and insecure to throw it out in the open like that, but on discord, among friends, and in some little writings that I never shared up here.

Selfshipping has been a great comfort while I figure out what is wrong with me mental health wise. It's been a great tool to figure out what I look for IRL relationships, hell it's been a help figuring out my sexuality, all in a safe online environment, helping me reflect on the real life that's not online. It's been a great comfort whenever I feel insecure, a source of humor to look back onto on bad days, just a very nice coping mechanism for when the depresso hits hard.

It's nothing new that a comfort character dies, it's almost a running meme that 90% of my comfort characters don't make the end of whatever medium they're part of and usually I handle it pretty well. An emotional reaction at the moment I see/read/hear it happen, and maybe some exaggerated online outrage, then some memes and acceptance, 5 stages of grief, but make it funny kinda thing.

But for some reason, this hit super hard? Be it hormones, depression, the fact that my real life is having some struggles at the moment... it just was the figurative drop that made the bucket spill (is that how you say it in English?) and I have been crying some real human tears over non real characters.

I had planned a tiny break while being on weekend with my students and wanted to get back to writing (especially for the summer event and OP bingo) the moment I got home. Instead I kinda got teary eyed and shut my laptop again. My head just fills with Angsty thoughts, and while those are all fun and games whenever I am in a good place, now is not the moment for it. So I am taking a little break again, I am extremely sorry.

I *will* get over it, and will do what any other fanfic writer does in situations like this: ignore canon and move on. But for now it kinda hurts and I feel silly even admitting to it.

Anyway. I just needed to let that out, writing down my feelings is somewhat cathartic and I am running out of tissues, so I had to try something else. I am not even sure if many people will read this because my range has been a little less again lately, but I just had to get it off my chest? Sorry for making you read this entire rambling wall of text if you're still reading. I am not even sure if I am making any sense at all.

Signing off with loads of love, and drink a lot of water, be gentle for yourself, it's what I am doing rn as well. ♡

Love, Hazel

Ps: please don't reblog, invalidate my feelings cause the characters are not real or if you don't like selfshipping. Anything negative said, I'll just block.

#mental health #depression tw #selfshipping #one piece spoilers #rant #personal #rambles #hazel speaks #hazel is feeling emotional #prolly delete later #am sorry

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kindahoping4forever · 2 years

Note

5, 13, 20, 25 since I can’t sleep 😌

Aww, I'll try to bore you to sleep with my answers, Rach, dw. 😌

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

I would say Gardener!Ash definitely surprised me in that I never expected him to be the center of an ongoing series and to have become the fully formed character that he is. I, of course, try to make even my one shots as detailed as I can but for the most part, I was just trying to clown out on that first story so the fact that I've done 4 fics of him (and have a few more planned) is wild to me.

13) your strengths as an author

I'm my own biggest critic so this question is difficult for me tbh 🥹 What I enjoy most when I read my own stories back is the dialogue between my characters, or as its often referred to "the banter." It's often fun and entertaining to read but I also love the way it shows how comfortable they are with each other, that they kind of have their own little language that they speak with each other, their own rhythm. I think that's typical of a lot of relationships (romantic or not) and I like that it conveys a certain kind of intimacy before anything notably intimate even happens.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Honestly it's usually both at the same time! 😅 I'll sit down to write for hours at a time but will often walk away with only a small amount of progress bc once I'm at the computer, I've thought of 12 other things I need to do online or something else will distract me (content, friends, "research" for a fic etc.) and so I'll have these little bursts of writing within that day of sitting at the computer.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

The first thing that came to mind for this my camping fic, To Love Him Is To Need Him Everywhere, which is almost bordering on self-indulgent because of how flowery and dreamy the descriptive language gets but I think it'll always be one of my low-key favs because the imagery is just so vivid and it reads just like I pictured in my mind.

He lays behind you, wrapping his arms around you and breathing a soft sigh of your name against your hair. The two of you lay in loving silence, basking in the contrast between the cool breeze blowing across your skin and the warmth of your lover’s body on you.

Ash is such a large presence, literally and figuratively, you love the firmness and safety of being enveloped by him. But after a few minutes, you find yourself needing more and you turn over to face him. His eyes are closed and you stop to study him, taking in every detail: how long his lashes are, how much you love the shape of his nose, how structured but soft his cheeks are, how kissable his lips always seem to look, how his sharp jawline still makes your stomach drop after all this time.

You notice the dimples that you love so much starting to form as he smiles at the feel of your stare. He opens his eyes and with a single look, he’s able to read your energy and know exactly what you’re needing. He fits his hand under your jaw and slowly kisses you, letting you lead the way, inviting your tongue to take and taste all you need from him.

He waits for you to be the one to break the kiss and then he’s gently pushing you onto your back so he can lay his head on your chest. You stroke your fingers through his hair while he uses his to trace designs on your bare stomach.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever been more grateful to be sharing a moment with someone,” Ashton says quietly, the thought still formulating in his mind. You look down to see his hazel eyes gazing fondly at you. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

Get To Know Your Author Asks!

#get some rest! 😘#ask #rachxc13 #kh4f writing #author asks #gardener ash #to love him is to need him everywhere

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pepperedstarz · 2 years

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ZINNIA USES ALL PRONOUNS BUT NORMALLY SHE/HE TRUE GENDER !!!!! OKAY OKAY I'm getting tired so I'm gonna explain as best as I can!! Zin was a child of a professional ballet dancer and ?? I still don't know her dad's job bare with me. Zin hated school, dropped it, started a job performing at her mom's theater, okay dropped that because ballet was too dainty, let's go perform anywhere that hires us, Zin starts a circus.

I'm gonna gather your asks all in one nice big post so, it'll be easier for me to give you a good response and a more pleasant read through for anyone else interested too!

Context for anyone that needs it Zinnia is Circus AU's Henry!

"Circus travels through towns and shit whatever !!!! Important person, William. William and Zinnia meet at a bar where zin is like "hey lol, me and you are getting well together, wanna be my right hand man." William accepts and they work on the circus together. By this point it isn't small, it's well known and they have massive crowds"

"Zinnia performs a lot on aerial silks (HIGHLY RECOMMEND TO CHECK OUT SOME PEOPLE WHO PERFORM WITH SILKS ITS COOL) and so once after a show, zinnia is practicing a trick that's pretty dangerous. It's looping a silk around your neck and ankles, you do a split and pull your head bACK it's terrifying to watch!!! Zin fucks it up and DIES but her soul like floats and repossesses Zin"

"And so Zin gets down, trying to figure out why she died and then didn't. This is why her skin changed color BTW!!! But so she kinda like is just "hm I need t figure out how that works" BOOM soul research BOOM "will help me out with soul thing" BOOM science fair project on a human BOOM human is fucked up"

"Zinnia performs fucked experiments after she died, William is still alive after these, she can't figure out souls. A bit passes, William is like "can you try and get me to work the with the tech?" THE TECH HE'S TALKING ABT IS NAMED JACK AND EVERYONE CALLS HIM ORANGE BECAUSE OF HIS LIKE NEON orange hair lol!!! Zin is like "lol? Just talk to him? Why are you asking me?" AND WILL EXPLAIN HE LIKES JACK AND ZIN (WHOS REALLY AFRAID OF LOSING HER BEST FRIEND IS LIKE. HM. MURDERS AN OPTION) so like a smart person, she kills Jack's sibling (Dee), and his brother (Peter), and Doesn't get caught since she can just. Murder people bc she's cool (really they're under the floor of the circus but the body's decompose enough to where even if they were found, they couldn't be identified) ((also she has their souls in jars))

Jack is grieving because his family just went missing, William keeps his distance, and the circus is cleared from the police. Yipee. So, the circus travels again, in the all good, and Will CONFRONTS Zinnia when they're back in a small rented home kitchen because he's like 120% sure she did it and she's just like "wow that's rude, I'm cooking :) I'd never do that" it gets into a fight, Zinnia grabs the knife she had AND BOOM another death. Get the soul, figure out what to do with the body. She was so scared of getting found out when the adrenaline wore off and she saw will she just fucking lost it dude. Perks of being assistants with no family that care? No one went looking for Will! So that made it easier.

But still at this point Zin just pushes down the guilt and ignores everything after getting rid of evidence (she did take one thing of Dave's and that was a photo of them when they both first started) BUT YEA the circus goes successful even after the loss, Zin gets well known, has money, and then disappears off of the grid and continues to research souls (using her own #girlboyboss)"

I love this idea! A lot actually! There's so much detail in this, and it's really fun to see how you've fleshed out Zinnia herself. Her backstory is pretty interesting and fairly regular, which I appreciate, honestly. I like how the circus wasn't made out of spite or bloodlust but, was just his next movement along for his skill set, and then he turned into a sick bastard lol.

Performers on aerial silks! Holy shit, they are so majestic, but some of the moves they make are terrifying to look at. I've watched some stuff about these before but, looked into a couple more after your asks and yep! Both as gorgeous and terrifying as I remember x'3 I think the way Zinnia died is unique and makes a lot of sense! I like how also his death was the marker for her downfall into madness, like after that point her actions got worse and worse until she's just like the Henry we know and hate in the canon DSAF universe.

I think Jack being an obstacle for Zinnia is a pretty interesting take too, and picking out the support Jack has instead of Jack himself to alienate William is a horrible but powerful manipulation tactic really. Did Dave have a performance in the circus? If he did, what did he do? Also, what happened to Jack, since I'm assuming he's still alive?

I was gonna draw something for this AU today but, it kinda too late for me to start now 'n' I got a busy day tomorrow but, I didn't want to make you wait too long for a reply to your ideas! Thank you so much for sharing this with me, this was a pleasure to read through, and I look forward to see/hearing more about this AU :eyes:

Sorry it took me a bit to reply! I wanted to give you a nicely structured answer & have this understandable for people stumbling upon this post and me at a later date when I end up using this to refresh my memory x"3

#dsaf circus au #circus au #tw manipulation #tw death mention #starz talks #talks #asks #i haven't beta read this post #should be fine hopefully

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mulletpeters · 3 years

Text

toothache of the mind

ship: peterpatter

rating: g

word count: 1938

tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, high school, 1990s, best friends, feelings realization, pining

Reggie gets braces for his sweet sixteen.

He doesn’t tell anyone―not even his best friends in the whole wide world. So when he walks into homeroom the Tuesday after his birthday, Luke nearly topples out of his chair at the sight of the metal wrapped around Reggie’s adorable little snaggletooth. Alex may or may not be hyperventilating, but Luke wouldn’t know. He’s distracted.

Reggie, for his part, is acting like Luke’s world hasn’t just been tilted on its axis in a dangerous way. “Hey, guys,” he says nonchalantly. “Sup?”

Alex recovers much quicker than Luke, though there’s still a glint of concern in his eyes. They both know how self-conscious Reggie can be, especially about his smile, so he treads carefully. “Hey, Reginald. Do anything fun for your birthday?”

They had their own party on Friday after school―Luke gave Reggie a new studded strap for his bass because the one he’d found in Bobby’s garage had started to look pretty sad―but Reggie’s parents are the type to force family time onto him any chance they get. Luke has a sneaking suspicion they only do it so they can use Reggie against each other in whatever asinine argument comes up that day, but it’s not like he can really do anything about it. None of them can, so Reggie is unfortunately left to his own devices when it comes to compulsory dysfunctional family celebrations. “Not really,” he says in lieu of giving any actual details; he’ll tell them eventually, but a crowded classroom is not ideal for dishing out his personal drama. “Got braces.” He shrugs, like his mom hasn’t made him feel like shit about his less than perfect teeth for most of his childhood. Definitely since Luke’s known him, anyway, and they’ve been friends since they were ten.

“Oh, did you?” Alex asks, and it sounds borderline sarcastic but he holds back most of his usual bite. “Let’s see ‘em, then.” He holds an arm out in a grand gesture like he’s giving Reggie the floor, and Reggie flashes the most hesitant smile Luke’s ever seen on him.

Luke swears his heart stops, but Alex is once again carrying the conversation so he does his best to tune in. “Oh, nice,” Alex says, approving of the red brackets stuck to the front of Reggie’s teeth with a slight nod.

Reggie returns the gesture, and he looks considerably more relaxed now that he knows his friends won’t shun him for something this mundane. “Thanks,” he tells Alex before turning to face Luke, and he looks a little apprehensive, like maybe Luke should get his brain to reboot so he can offer some reassuring words instead of just staring like a total weirdo.

Luke wants to say something about how red looks good on him, or how it’s cool that it’ll match his favourite flannel, or maybe he’d settle for even just a supportive thumbs up. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “How long do you have to wear them?”

Reggie gives him a funny look, head tilted and brow furrowed. “Only like, a year,” he answers anyway, and Luke wants to scream.

Thankfully, the teacher chooses that moment to draw their attention to the front of the room, and Reggie turns around in his seat so Luke can only see the back of his head. Luke sighs in relief, sinking further into his chair till his limbs are sprawled out into the aisle, accepting his defeat. It’s gonna be a long year.

Luke decidedly does not address the issue after that day. The issue being that weird fluttery feeling he gets in his chest every time Reggie smiles at him, or laughs, or talks, or breathes. Basically any time he sees the glint of metal in Reggie’s mouth, really.

It’s not like this is a new development, exactly; Luke has always had a bit of a soft spot for Reggie, a little bit of weakness. In the six years they’ve known each other, he can’t recall a time that Reggie just existing didn’t make his brain static out. The braces just made him recognize what’s always been true, even if he still doesn’t know how to make sense of it.

Normally he’d talk to his best friends about whatever’s on his mind, but he can’t very well articulate a dilemma he can’t comprehend to begin with. Plus, he doubts Alex would be any help, considering he’s got his own set of issues to work through, and he’d rather die than bring it up with Reggie himself. And as for Bobby, well. Bobby’s got the emotional depth of a puddle. So, naturally, he does the only logical thing there is to do: he writes.

He figures if Reggie’s smile is stuck in his head like a song, he might as well make it one. It’s what he’s good at, and it gives him a false sense of separation from the issue that grants a certain clarity he can’t get any other way. He jots down pages and pages of lyrics, curled up in his bed late one night, fingers itching for his guitar even though he knows his mom would kill him if she caught him playing at 1am again. So he just sits cross-legged on his comforter, hunched over his ratty old notebook, scrawling cliche lines about green eyes and freckles and an endearingly crooked canine.

It’s the sappiest thing he’s ever written. When he reads over it before school the next morning, he knows he’s well and truly fucked.

Reggie plops down into the dip in the center of the studio couch, inadvertently leaning onto Luke’s shoulder. “You working on a new song?” he asks, tilting his chin at the notebook on Luke’s lap like the question needs clarification.

Luke nods even as he scrambles to shut the book, shuffling loose papers to stuff them between the creased cover. “Uh,” he stammers, biting his lip. “Yeah, I am.”

Reggie just nods back, averting his eyes to look up at the loft when he realizes that Luke doesn’t want him to see the song. “Rad. What's it called?” He glances at Luke, offering a comforting smile that says Luke can tell him as much or as little as he wants.

And well, that's the thing. Luke hasn't given it a name yet―the song, or the bewildering cocktail of feelings that inspired it to begin with. So he looks up from his scratchy handwriting to Reggie’s lopsided grin and says the first thing his useless brain can come up with. “Crooked Teeth.”

“Oh.” Reggie’s smile slides right off his face and Luke realizes what he's done half a second too late. Reggie bites his lip self-consciously, fidgeting with the sleeves of the flannel tied around his waist as Luke scrambles to backtrack into less sensitive territory.

“It's about Bobby,” he blurts unwittingly. And technically speaking, it is a little bit about Bobby, mostly because it's a little bit about the whole band, seeing as they’re mentioned in one line of the second chorus. But Bobby’s not the point of the song, not by a long shot. Luke decides Reggie doesn't need to know that, though. Especially not when his face lights up at the revelation, conspiratorial eyebrow raised like Luke’s letting him in on some great secret.

“Oh, snap! Well, I won't tell him, but don't let him find those lyrics.” Reggie winks, and it's not like it’s an unfamiliar sight, but Luke’s heart stutters out of time all the same. He's just glad Reggie isn’t the type to ask to see a song before Luke’s ready to share it; Luke doubts he'll ever be ready to share this particular piece, but if he does show it to Reggie, it'll be his choice.

He laughs halfheartedly, more a forceful exhale than anything else, and lands a playful punch to Reggie’s bicep. “Sure, man.”

Reggie just smiles wider. It feels like a kick straight to Luke’s solar plexus.

“You told him it’s about Bobby?” Alex asks, but what Luke hears is, you’re an idiot. Luke looks down at his best friend―he used to consider Reggie his best friend too, but he thinks maybe Reggie is in a category all his own at this point―and frowns. “He got his braces off before we even met him.” Alex stands up, walking around his drum kit to pace the floor. “And you told Reggie it’s called Crooked Teeth before you said that? Dude, you know how insecure he is about―”

“Yeah, Al, I know,” Luke huffs, cutting him off. It’s not the title Luke would've consciously chosen, but it's weirdly fitting, in a sort of convoluted way. Like, maybe Reggie’s teeth weren’t the sole catalyst for this whole...whatever this is, but they definitely played a major part. Luke’s really gonna miss Reggie’s snaggletooth, okay? He resents Reggie’s parents for a lot of reasons, but forcing him to get braces instead of a real birthday present is pretty damn high on the list.

Alex, with all his anxiety-induced powers of perception, notices Luke’s internal struggle and momentarily stops wearing a hole in the floor. “You’re kinda wiggin’ out, man. Chill.” He holds his hands out in what’s meant to be a placating gesture, but the drumsticks in his fists sort of ruin the effect.

“You’re one to talk,” Luke mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it, and Alex knows that. He’s just confused, and stressed, and generally unsure what to do with his recent epiphany. “What should I do?” he asks louder, eyes pleading.

Alex goes back to nervously lapping the room, and Luke picks at a loose string on his guitar strap just to have something to do. “I dunno,” Alex says after what could very well be an eternity. “But I think you’d feel better if you told him.”

Luke’s eyes shoot up to meet Alex’s gaze, brow furrowing involuntarily. “You what?”

Alex walks over, planting his feet in front of Luke, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder that isn’t holding his guitar strap up. “You’re clearly upset about this, Lucas. Tell him.”

Luke is shaking his head before Alex has even finished his sentence. “Not happening.” He folds his arms like a petulant child, but it loses its effectiveness when his guitar gets in the way, a sad thump echoing through the room. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.”

Alex cocks an eyebrow with a pointed look at the notebook sitting on top of Luke’s amp. “I think you already said it.”

Luke follows his line of sight, eyes landing on the folded corner of a piece of paper sticking out from all the others. He already knows what’s written on it―has the words memorized by now. They were written on his heart long before he put them to the page, anyway.

Bobby bursts into the studio then, Reggie in tow, and the moment is broken. They’re laughing about something Bobby said, and Reggie is as beautiful as ever as he throws his head back, and Luke thinks that maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell him how he feels. He’ll ask Alex to work with him on the music to go with his lyrics, maybe even get Bobby to help with the melody. He’ll throw rocks at Reggie’s window and serenade him from his front lawn like they do in the movies, and his friends will back him up, and it’ll be perfect.

For now, he needs to focus on perfecting the songs they already have. They’ve got a show at the Orpheum next summer to prepare for.

#posted this a week ago but i finally got around to putting it here too lmao #i still don't know if i like the formatting but whatever #anyway! i'm writing willex next <3 #jatp #julie and the phantoms #peterpatter #luke #reggie #alex #mine #fic

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spencers-dria · 3 years

Text

Maybe, Just Maybe

Someone To Stay Ch. 5

Spencer x Fem reader

Content/Trigger warnings: a little bit of body image issues

Spencer POV:

It's been a few days since I hung out with Y/N. I'm truly glad she was the one I got to go with. I feel like we might have a lot in common, and she's easy to be around. For a little while, I almost forgot about everything that happened...about her. The next day the thoughts came sinking slowly back in, but they don't feel as debilitating as they used to. Maybe Derek was right, getting out, being around people, it may not be easy for me but it may be what's best. Maybe I should try to get out of my comfort zone a little. I want to get better, I do. But being social, well it's never been my strong suit, and to try to do it now, when I feel so emotionally vulnerable, it's particularly difficult.

Other than the dinner at Rossi's, my friends haven't been inviting me out as much as they used to. I'm pretty sure they got tired of the inevitable rejection. I want them to see that I'm trying, that I want to do better, to get better. Maybe if I reach out first...

I grab my phone to call JJ. She's like a sister to me, and she's been the best at trying to understand what I've been going through.

"Hey, Spence!" She sounds surprised but glad to hear from me.

"Hey, I was uhh.. well I was just wondering..." my words trail off as I find myself suddenly losing confidence in my endeavor.

"Yeah, what's up?" Her voice has a calming effect on me.

"Well...I was wondering if the team had any plans this weekend? To hang out or...I don't know."

"Actually we don't. But we should! I think I have an idea. There's something I've been wanting us all to do. There's a Lakehouse up for rent, and I think it would be fun if we all went up for a weekend. What do you think?"

I'm not very into outdoor activities, but the idea of reading on a porch by the lake sounds incredibly calming and therapeutic. It also sounds like a good time for me to start hanging out with the team again.

"You know, that actually sounds perfect." I smile at the thought of the much needed weekend getaway.

"Perfect! I'll text the group! Thanks for giving me the nudge to set this up, Spence. It'll be fun."

I hang up and shortly after I hear the familiar ding from the group message chat.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey guys! Who would be down for renting a Lakehouse this next weekend?

DM🍫⚡️: Hell yeah! @ahotchner you know what that means?? Jet Skis baby!! 😜🤙🏻

AB🌹: How fun! Count me in.

DR🇮🇹: I'll cook! I have a new recipe we can try out. I think you'll all love it👌🏻

PG🦄👸🏼: @jjereau @ablake We HAVE to go swimsuit shopping first, ladies! This is a non-negotiable.

AH: Sounds fun, are we bringing the kids this time?

JJ💖: Actually, Will is staying home and he'll be watching Henry. Jack can spend the weekend there, if you'd like. @ahotchner

AH: Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that offer.

DM🍫⚡️: @sreid you better be coming pretty boy, just bring a couple dozen books and you'll be set.

SR♟: Yep, already packing.

I smile to myself, thinking of how for once, I'm the reason we have plans. But if anyone else knew that, I'd never hear the end of it. I knew JJ was being intentional when she didn't mention that to the group. I hear another group chat alert and glance at my phone.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey, is it alright if I invite Y/N again?

AB🌹: Oh I thought that was a given! You definitely need to! She fits in with us so well.

PG🦄👸🏼: You better! Or I won't let you hear the end of it 😂

JJ💖: Great! Thanks you guys, it means a lot that you've been so welcoming to her.

Y/N will be there. Maybe I'll have a friend who will hang back and read with me. It would be nice to not be the only one. Then I remember what she said about moving here because she loves the outdoors. That means she'll probably be hanging out with Derek, JJ, and whoever else. Oh well. At least maybe I'll get to talk to her more. I decide to text her. I never really text anyone, but she doesn't know that.

Y/N

Hey, it's Spencer. I heard JJ

wanted to invite you to the lake.

Do you think you'll go?

Yeah! I just got off the phone

with her. I can't wait! Are you

going?

Surprisingly...yes. I'll be bringing

some books along to pass the time

but it'll be nice to have a change

of scenery.

Books??? We'll see about that😉

I love a good book as much as the

next bibliophile...but this is a

weekend for things you CANT

do at home. Anyways, would you

want to carpool? We can take turns

driving if one of us gets tired.

Passenger is in control of snacks

and music! 🎶🍿

Haha, ok deal. We'll work out

the details later. And...thanks :)

Anytime Spencer, can't wait! 👍🏻

I lean back into the couch and smile. Even if we spend the weekend doing different things, at least we'll get to talk on the way there. I feel like she could become a good friend, but I don't want to make any assumptions...I don't do this often.

Y/N POV:

You run around your room, packing for a trip that's days away. You're too excited, it can't wait. Just as you're trying to decide on a swimsuit you get a text from Penelope, saying that the girls are going swimsuit shopping this evening. They want you to come. You can't hide the smile growing on your face. How long has it been since you've been on a girls shopping trip? You can't even remember. It's spontaneous, so you assume no one will be too dressed up. You throw on a black sleeveless t shirt dress and some strappy sandals. Easy enough to get in and out of for trying on clothes. After brushing through your hair and applying some quick, light makeup, you're ready to go. The girls had decided to meet at the mall, for the most options.

You meet up with Aunt JJ, Penelope, and Alex outside of a nice department store.

"I figured we could start here. It has the most options and it's at the end of the mall. So we can work our way down, until we all find something."

Aunt JJ tends to take charge. She's such a mom, but that's part of what you love about her. Always prepared, caring for everyone. Alex found a cute one piece with a wrap to wear as a skirt. Penelope picked out a cute pink and purple polka-dotted swim dress. JJ ended up with a sports-bra fitting bikini top and some athletic looking swim shorts. Still such a typical mom. The only one left is you. You haven't tried on very many things, and what you did try on, never made it out of the dressing room.

"Y/N, why don't you let us pick you out some things to try on, and this time, you have to at least let us see. Deal?" Penelope gives you a look of encouragement.

"Sure" you shrug. "I'll try anything at this point."

Alex stays with you while JJ and Penny go to pick out some swimsuits for you. They return with a few handfuls of options. You try on the first option, picked out by Penny. It's a cute two piece, frilly and pink. You come out and are greeted with a few giggles.

"As cute as this is, I think it's more your style than mine, Penny" you let out a small laugh.

"Oh I know. I just wanted to see you in it! I couldn't pull it off in a thousand years!" She laughs.

"Alright alright, let's keep going." JJ ushers me back into the dressing room.

I come back out in a black two piece. It doesn't show too much skin to make me uncomfortable, but it's really flattering on my curves.

I hear a chorus of "ooooo" and one "yes queen!" that I'm sure came from Penny.

"Really, you guys? It's not too...ya know."

JJ shakes her head at me. "No definitely not. Girl, you're single, you're in your twenties, your body hasn't had a child yet. If you got it, flaunt it. If not now, then when?"

The girls all nod in agreement. You blush. You didn't know you could look this good in a swimsuit. You usually avoided bikinis. You found it hard to feel comfortable in your own skin. Whenever you tried to dress sexy, you just ended up feeling awkward and uncomfortable. It helps to have some friends to encourage you. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Okay, even you had to admit, you look hot.

The four of you end the day with lunch, chatting about your plans for the lake.

JJ turns to you. "Y/N, I almost forgot, do you need a ride down there? I can pick you up, if you'd like."

"Ohh uh, no actually. I'm carpooling with Spencer." I give her a shy smile. I know what this looks like. "We're just friends" I quickly interject.

"That's great" she says, giving me her warm smile. "Spence really needs a friend right now. And I bet you do too." There's understanding in her eyes. You're grateful that she didn't try to make more out of it. Aunt JJ knows you, though. She knows you make guy friends much more easily. That aside, you were still so grateful for the day with the girls. They were all so genuine, and easy to get along with. They didn't make you feel like an outsider intruding on their day.

Later that evening, you lay in bed as you try to quiet your mind. Your head is swimming with too many thoughts to fall asleep: anxieties about this weekend, but also excitement and ideas of what you'll do. Not to mention, more time to get to know Spencer better. You wonder what JJ meant when she said Spencer really needed a friend right now. Maybe, just maybe, you'd break through his walls a little more this weekend.

A/N: sorry this one is short-ish. It's kind of a transition chapter so there's not as much content! Building a base, building friendships, hang with me, we're getting there 😁💖✌🏻

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