#m's writing stuff

[heartorbit]

MWAH!

[cryptid-cave]

Currently thinking about a reader who, while having a full-time job and playing the part of a “real adult” pretty well for the most part, is still kind of lost and pathetic. It feels less like they’re living and more like they’re surviving, getting by on their own with just a cat for company.

Enter John Price, who’s currently on medical leave and just itching for a project. Maybe reader works at a store near his home that he shops at almost every other day, or works at the library where he goes when he needs to get out of the house. Either way, he spots this pretty little thing who clearly needs some love and guidance, preferably from a strong, gentle hand - and who better to do that than him?

Anyways, save me bossy and demanding Price with a savior complex, save me

[ellieshyperfixations]

Nightcrawler, learning about Santa: Why do we need to watch out? Is Santa going to assassinate us?

Wolverine: Yeah. I mean, what do you think happens to the bad kids?

[gaysie]

some interesting passages from conversations with anne rice about why she writes about gay men

[stormyelliotwritez]

fic where ftm reader is logan’s gay (re)awakening when he sees r in his 2000 pickup truck blasting old rock in his flannel and jeans and logan just heart eyes and needs to be with this man Immediately.

(i say reawakening bc lets be real hes like 200 he mightve already realized hes a 🚬 before but needed like. a reminder)

AAAAAAHHHHHH literally my fav trope ever - i did a similar one to this btw called logan and his hot guy friend - also i made reader a handyman type guy coz funsies

He may be a bit ooc but i ain’t sure

i need to get more photos coz i keep reusing them

Old rock and a 2000’s pickup truck? 😍

It had been a long long day and Logan was walking home from the job he’d gotten after all that multiverse shit when a 2000’s pickup truck parked at the lights. He walked up next to it and raised an eyebrow as he heard the music. It was old rock or dad rock as Wade would say. He walked past the window and saw you. You were wearing a red flannel and faded blue jeans. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to like a guy.

He wandered home in a daze, only thinking about you in that pick up truck. Wade asked him if something was wrong and he couldn’t even answer. He just mumbled a no and then grabbed a beer. You looked so good in that flannel. He only saw you for a moment but you were his type alright.

A few days later, he took the same route home, hoping he’d see you and he did. You were parked this time with tools in the backseat. Against his better judgement, he walked up to your window and tapped on it. And against your better judgement, you rolled the window down and smiled at him.

“Your truck is a beauty,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks, I fixed her up myself,” you said back before patting the dashboard lovingly.

Logan took a glance at the tools in the back of your truck and chuckled to himself. “You a handyman?”

You nodded. “Guilty as charged. You needing something fixed?”

He chuckled. “Well now that I think of it, we’ve had a dodgy tap recently, my roommate and I.”

You chuckled and nodded. “I could drop by and see if it’s an easy fix?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, bub. We just live in the top apartment at the building with the blue door just over there so feel free to drop by whenever.”

You nodded and smiled again. “Well I gotta be off. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

Logan smiled and waved as you drove off. He pumped his fist in the air, mimicking Wade, and grinned. Hell yeah, he was gonna get to see you again.

He walked back to the apartment and this time, he grabbed a beer and joined Wade on the couch. “You gotta skedaddle tomorrow so go work or something,” was all he said to Wade before the soccer game started.

The next day, Logan stayed home and made sure Wade was out the door by 8. The clock struck 10 and you knocked on the door like well… clockwork. He quickly opened the door and let you in.

“Hey, you’re here,” he smiled, “wasn’t sure if you’d turn up.”

You smiled and held up your bag. “Well I like getting paid.”

“And I like getting my tap fixed.”

You got to work and soon enough, you’d found the problem. You fixed it and when you stood up, Logan was standing in the doorway. He had a grin on his face and a beer in each hand. You hadn’t noticed how hot he was before but now he was standing there, wearing a white singlet and a brown flannel and looking super duper hot.

“That for me?”

He nodded and handed it over. “For a job well done, bub. And I’ll pay you as well of course.”

The two of you sat down and both had a beer. A bit after Logan finished his, he grabbed the money and handed it over. You stood up and contemplated leaving before turning back to him and chuckling awkwardly.

“You seeing anyone?”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Thought you’d never ask, bub.”

You sat back down and leaned towards him, a smile on your lips. “Would you want to be seeing someone?”

“Is that someone you because I would love to be seeing you,” he said with a smirk as he leaned towards you.

When you leaned backwards and stretched, your shirt rode up and he saw your binder. He nodded to himself and leaned in a bit closer. “Haven’t dated a guy in a while so you wanna break me in again? We could listen to some rock?”

You chuckled and licked your lips before standing up and pulling your chair to next to him. You sat back down and shamelessly grabbed ahold of his hand and ran your fingers over it. “Absolutely, handsome.”

[m0ckest]

fiction.tools

Just discovered this site that links to all sorts of resources for writers/story tellers/etc!

Includes links to:

Idea generators

Map creators/generators

Story/world/character organizers

Mind-mapping tools

Word processors

Screenwriting software

Revision/formatting tools

Book cover makers

Free stock images

Submission & self-publishing tools

(Not everything they link to is 100% free but there's a handy search filter as well as labels on the posts to identify features.)

[stankygay]

141 x m!reader: Captured & Found

Captain John Price

He had chewed through his favorite cigars as they tried to find you. The last mission had gone to utter shit and he felt responsible for you being captured. When Laswell called Price on your possible location, he threw the ruined cigar in the bin and got his men ready. When he found you, you were in a dark damp cell. Your eye was black and you had some minor wounds. He was the first one to push through into the cell. He checked you over assessing your injuries. You smiled at him, bloody teeth glinting in the minimal light. He had a deep frown on his face. You tried to joke, tried to make light of the situation. You hated the way Price looked, like he was the one that beat you and put you in the cell himself. When he cut your bindings you found your hand reaching for his arm. The squeeze of his muscle reminded him that you were and present. That you weren't dead or worse. "Stay with me John," you utter. And he feels even more guilty for the fact that you are the one comforting him instead.

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

He was eerily silent the entire time. He listened to orders and the intel gathered about your location. Everyone stared at him weary for any reaction but there was none. He kitted up like regular, stood on the helo, and waited for orders. He went up ahead before anyone else and no one even tried to hold him back. He found you, your arms hanging above your head by metal cuffs and a chain. He walked over to you, and got the cuffs off of you. You were bleary eyed and concussed. The skull face in front of you looked familiar but you couldn't really think. When he spoke, the words warmed your bones. He asked for a sit-rep and you could barely speak. You were exhausted. When he half dragged you out of the location, in the sunlight you could clearly see Ghost's eyes. He was worried. He got you to the medics, he stayed close but never got in the way as you were treated. He was the one to reach out for you once your wounds were packed. He was the one to grab your hand in his. He squeezed your fingers and you tried to squeeze back but you had no energy. You felt yourself slowly falling asleep but he kept squeezing. And then he began to talk just to keep you awake. He spoke about his collection. Anything to keep you lucid as they flew out to the closest hospital.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

He was antsy. He couldn't sit still, he might have back talked Price but the captain let it go this once. He didn't want to wait. He tried hard but he needed to do something. He followed into the building but with each step he took he felt his stomach sink further. The cameras in the building showed you. Their enemies lay dead and now they could grab you and exfil. Gaz didn't hesitate, he ran into the empty room where you were tied to a chair. He immediately reached out and held your face in his hands. "Love," he asked squeezing softly as you opened your eyes to look at him. He smiled when he saw those familiar eyes look at him. His stomach was still in knots with worry but now he was here. He helped you up from the chair as gently as he could. He never let you go as they exfiled, not even when the medics tended to your wounds. He kept rubbing your arms and back. He whispered in your ear that you were fine, that you were so strong. Your chest felt warm being in his presence and no longer kept back in that room. They had tried to get information from you, but you never spoke. A risk of being in the task force, but you trusted these men with your life. Gaz kissed your temple, taking in the faint smell of your shampoo that had faded with the scent of sweat and blood.

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

He was almost benched on the spot. He had gone off without waiting for orders. The only reason he hadn't gone and leveled the building completely was because he had been caught by Ghost. Soap was serious. A deep frown on his pouty lips. His fingers tossing a frag back and forth. His veins felt alight with fire, angry and looking to put a bullet between the eyes of these assholes that took you. You had not gone without a fight but there were so many they had to regroup. Soap hated they had to leave you to them. Price tried to explain why, but all he wanted was to get you back. When the got to the location, maybe he set up some c-4 around. Maybe he rigged this dingy garage to blow up once they were several clicks away. They found you on the ground. Blood spilling from your nose and staining your gear. You had been stripped of your weapons and your kit. He ran and knelt in front of you. His hand immediately going for your pulse point. You flinched at the touch, sitting up and a knife aimed at Soap's chest. He moved away and raised his hands but he wasn't upset. Those clear blue eyes were familiar. You sagged in relief. "Fuckin' hell," you muttered to yourself as you drooped onto his shoulder. Soap checked you over, as they planned to leave. Soap had a worry in his brow but he also had a giant smile on his face. Cause you were a fighter, even as you swayed on your feet, he proclaimed how strong you are and how you'd never go down without a fight.

[millerstolemyheart]

Mornings Like These | Drabble

Summary: Joel wakes you up for your morning shift at the stables.

WC: 1,253

Pairing: Joel Miller x M!Reader

Warnings: Smut, brief mention of daddy kink, no proofread

Notes: I dunno I just really needed to get this out of my head guyssss

Mornings with Joel are anything but restful.

Within seconds of stirring, his lips are typically dancing along the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings and the occasional breathy swear word while his morning wood swells against the soft curve of your ass. Rough, callused hands caress and grope you awake with a tenderness that surprised you the first time it happened.

“Baby boy… sweetheart… darlin’...”

Each pet name falls as sweet as honey from his lips.

“Sunshine… my love… angel…”

Joel’s list of pet names for you is vast, as he likes to keep a repertoire. It gives him lots of options, depending on what mood he’s in.

“Sugar…”

That’s the one that finally stirs you awake today.

When your eyes finally flutter open, you spot Joel peering down at you with a sleepy expression. Those deep brown eyes of his look tired, but they crinkle at the edge when your gazes meet. His graying hair is tousled from sleep, and it makes you think of that time you towel-dried your cat after a particularly difficult bath. A smile tugs at the corner of your lip, and you bring your hand up to tangle in the soft curls that kiss the nape of his neck.

“G’morning…” You whisper, voice raspy from sleep.

Joel silently presses a kiss to your forehead, and you close your eyes to enjoy the familiar scratch of his whiskered jaw.. Tilting your head up, you capture his lips in a quick kiss. The movement doesn’t faze Joel. He simply slips his hands up to cradle your head in his hands as if it’s second nature.

“Mornin’, sweet boy…” Joel finally rumbles against your lips. He pulls back long enough to study your face. “Sorry to wake you so early. You did say six o’ clock, right?”

Oh, right. Your shift at the stables. No wonder you weren’t feeling his arousal pressing against you.

“Yeah,” You yawn and reach to give his scruffy cheek a reassuring scratch. “Gotta get home and change before I go. Didn’t bring any clothes with me last night.”

In your haste to see Joel after he returned from a late patrol, you’d forgotten to pack any clothes. In your defense, he was wearing that damn green flannel of his that drove you crazy, so you weren’t really thinking of much other than dragging him from the front gate of Jackson back to his own home in record time. The late evening hours turned into a sweaty, sticky blur that didn’t end until Joel had coaxed at least three orgasms out of your spent body.

“Christ, darlin’... just look at you… practically droolin’ for it, ain’t ya?”

“C’mon, baby boy… know you can do it… gimme another. I want it.”

“I know, baby, I know… just one more… do it for me… be a good boy…”

Your cock gave one final weak twitch before your mouth parted in a silent scream, your entire body jolting once, twice, three times before finally giving out and collapsing into the sheets. Joel’s satisfied smirk danced behind your eyelids all night long, along with the gentle praises he murmured into your ear as you succumbed to sleep.

“Such a good boy f’me… can’t believe you’re mine, darlin’...”

Joel gives a soft snort and suddenly peels himself away to reach over the side of the bed with a faint grunt, a product of his aging back. He picks up the very same flannel from the floor and tosses it over to you. “There.” Wearing a satisfied expression, he reclines back against the pillows, head propped up on his arm. “Just wear that. Stay here and have some coffee with me instead before you go.” His voice is low and gravelly, eyes flitting down to the shirt and back up to your eyes. It’s less of a suggestion and more of a declaration.

He knows what you’ll say.

The faintest blush colors your cheeks as you catch the shirt. You give him a careful look and slip it on over your bare torso. Immediately his scent floods your nose with a warm, woodsy aroma reminiscent of wet trees, wood shavings, and the natural musk you’ve grown addicted to. The sleeves hang just past the tips of your fingers, and you shoot Joel an amused look.

“You think anyone’ll notice?”

Not that you would mind…

“Fuck, I hope so,” he grumbles, reaching out to adjust the collar for you. “Want everybody knowin’ you’re mine…” His voice carries a distinct possessive tone, already imagining you going around wearing his scent all day long as you work at the stables. It’s enough to make him want to rip it right back off of you and coax more sweet sounds out of you.

You roll the sleeve back up to your elbows, showing off some of your bare arms. "I'll wear it your way then." You shimmy closer, nuzzling into warm crook of his neck. It’s your favorite place in the world. “Thanks, Joel.”

Joel stretches his arm around you, holding you close to his body, your head still resting against his neck. "Good," His voice is a low rumble, and his free hand reaches to stroke the short hair at the nape of your neck. It sends a delightful shiver down your spine, and Joel responds with a soft hmph, continuing his action and studying your body for any more reactions.

“You doin’ anything tonight, darlin’?” Joel asks after a few moments of silence. His eyes study you closely, though once again he’s sure he knows your answer.

He does.

You give a coy smile. “Seems like I am now.”

"That's a relief," Joel remarks with a wry smile, his free hand moving to your waist, his gaze on your face. "Wouldn't want you spendin' your evenings with anyone else."

“Getting possessive, are we?” You tease him. Your voice comes out muffled from where your face is smushed under his jawline.

“I'm not gettin' possessive, I'm marking what's mine," he counters in a grunt, his tone still low and gravelly. There’s a familiar glint in his eye that promises deliverance.

Mine.

A wave of heat flushes through your body, unable to contain your own growing desire for him. "Well in that case..." You lean up, capturing his lips in a kiss.

Joel immediately groans into your mouth, his breath hot against your lips. His warm hands snake their way back around your middle, one slipping up so he can tweak your nipple with the rough pads of his fingers. “Christ, baby boy…” He mutters, nose squashed against your cheekbone. “Just look at ya… wearin’ my dirty shirt… don’t know what you do to me, do ya?”

You can’t stop your body from trembling as he wraps himself back around you. Everything about him radiates power… strength… safety… His warmth shields you from the chilly morning air of the bedroom. It’s as if nothing else could matter at the moment. Just him. Just Joel.

“J-Joel…” You giggle, your nose nuzzling the warm crook of his neck and breathing in his scent straight from the source. “Not gonna have any time for coffee…”

“Screw the damn coffee,” he snarls, already shifting his body to hover over your own. His weight pins you to the mattress, and there’s a knot that keeps growing bigger and bigger in your gut when you feel just how hard he really is. His cock gives a firm twitch against your thigh.

“I got a better way for us to wake up.”

[gofishygo]

okok but can someone please please recommend some tooth rotting diabetes causing nickocado avocado-inspiring cod x reader fanfictions ? im so sick of searching up cod x reader works just 2 get bombed by “AND THEY CHOKE ND STRANGLE YOU” “HARDCORE SEX STUFF HERE !!” please i just want to be silly and domesticated with the boys why is peace not an option

[belovedstill]

svsss 10th anniversary snippets [ 1/7 ] ▶ three bows @ ao3 | bingqiu | introspective, getting married

The first time Luo Binghe had ever bowed to Shen Qingqiu, tea was spilled over his head.

That memory is hazy now. He doesn't think back to those early days much now that fate has finally, finally opened its cold eyes to his past suffering. Everything important has changed, yet remained the same.

Cang Qiong Sect used to be a place he called home, with a shizun, a childhood friend, and the remaining people who made it a point to show he wasn't wanted there. Now, it's still a home whenever Shizun stays there, the childhood friend still greets him with kindness, even if a little more distant, and the rest of the sect still want him anywhere but there. Nobody dares raise a hand this time.

The past needs no ruminating on. It existed. It passed. It's dead and not mourned anymore.

He bows among the bamboo stalks, eyes on the blue of the sky, the green of the leaves, the tranquillity of the nature. Red robes similar to his own whisper with movement by his side.

Where he is now—when he is now—makes his heart beat faster. Now is good. Now is better than he's ever imagined it would be.

He bows to the wooden box, painted by Shizun himself, filled with precious cargo: his very first jade pendant; an old note with Su Xiyan's and Tianlang-Jun's scribbled handwriting; a wooden tablet with elegant strokes of two given names to the family name of Shen, both unfamiliar to him, offered in fragile silence. In the corner of his eye, Shizun moves in time with him.

Two cups filled with tea rest on a tray between them. The first time he'd ever bowed to Shen Qingqiu, tea was spilled over his head.

This time, when Luo Binghe bows to Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu bows along with him.

Red-clothed arms linked together, one teacup held in his trembling hand and another resting in Shen Qingqiu's steady one, they drink at the same time.

[shrimparts-blog888]

Can I ask 🥺🥺🥺🥺 for a silly eah/nevermore crossover 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 maybe annabel and Apple realising they have the same brand of issues 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

✨️Insert text here✨️

[nondelphic]

writing tip: when in doubt, add more dialogue. or delete all the dialogue. or maybe just stare at the page and cry a little

[rigormortisangel]

i swear they did something to my brain to make me unable to live without them

[not-5-rats]

@gatorboys22 's recent angst has given me so much inspiration, like omg (if you haven't read their stuff GO DO IT!!! I MEAN IT!! GO!! It's so sad, like dude I almost cried!) anyways it gave me so many ideas, so here's the first of those :3

☆×.------------------------.×☆

"Now with your body, my love too is buried"

☆---------------☆

The second he first saw them he knew he loved them. Sure their meeting was slightly awkward given he had thrown himself on top of them, though in his defense he had no clue Bug was laying there! Luckily it seemed they didn't mind too much, in fact they apologised to him! Marco knew, as soon as his eyes fell on the person laying in his bed, an apologetic smile shining on their face, he knew that he loved them.

He felt awful when he left them there that day, he knew he had to leave, he had places to go, things to find...but he couldn't help it. The thought of going away and potentially never seeing their gorgeous face again, it was torture. Eventually he managed to drag himself out of the house, though almost an hour after he originally intended on leaving. As soon as he stepped foot out that door he felt his heart drop, he missed their eyes, he missed the way their voice sounded...he missed everything about them.

For days after, no matter how hard he tried, Marco couldn't get the picture of them out of his head. He felt stupid, he had so many things he could be thinking of, so much to do...yet he just couldn't shake their image from his mind. He spent hours wondering how they were, questioning how their leg was doing...if they were okay. Which is why he freaked out slightly when he saw them near the arena.

His heart fluttered when he spotted them, but it quickly died down as Bug began to explain what had happened, why they were her. Panic set in, he tried to remain calm but he knew how dangerous this kind of thing was. He was worried about Timmy, he couldn't believe thus had happened, how on Earth was Timmy meant to survive in their! His little friend Timmy! More than that though think of what could happen to Bug if they went in there. Sure they used to be a Hunter, but they were injured, not to mention that they would be massively outnumbered by all the Guards and actual Hunters that hung around the arena! Trying his hardest to keep his cool, Marco reasoned with them, the look in his eyes silently pleading with them not to go in there, they kept resisting, arguing that they had to go, this was their fault so they had to go, but he just couldn't let them. What if he lost them? They had only known each other for such a short time! He couldn't let them go yet!!! Unfortunately it soon became clear that he couldn't stop them, they were so bloody determined...it was admirable...or it would be, in any other circumstances. He reluctantly agreed, but on the condition that he would be allowed to help, he would never let them go on their own.

So they snuck inside to converse with the rest of the crew, alot of information was suddenly thrown as Marco, so it was a bit of a struggle for him to catch up at the beginning...but he soon understood what was going on. Gosh he had been away for a while, he missed so much in his friends lives. But he couldn't think of that right now, they had to find a way out of here, that was the priority right now. So they thought up a plan, it was perfect, but they bad to be careful, and they must take haste, for one wrong move...and they would all end up in a very early grave, well maybe a huge pit if they were lucky given the location of their deaths.

It felt like forever as he waited for the day to come, patiently waiting in the shadows for that destiny defining night to finally arrive. As the sun set Bug appeared just within Marco's sight, he called out to them in a hushed voice. They hurriedly went over the plan before cautiously creeping into the arena. Eventually they reached the cages where their friends were being held, they all managed to sneak out with no issues. The group shuffled back through the arena, as silently as possible, escape was near, he could practically grasp it. But suddenly...something stood in their path.

It all happened so quickly, Marco couldn't tell you what actually happened, no matter how hard he tried. One moment they were almost out of this stupid arena, everyone was so close to being free...the next, blood. That's all he could see. The Guards must have noticed them, they must have known what was going on, they ambushed the group. Now they were all fighting for their lives. Rolden & Lora were working with Bodie on one side of the room, trying to ward a small group of Guards away as they each ushered Timmy away from the dangers. He tried to push against them, he wanted to help, but they wouldn't allow it...poor boy. All of then were drenched in red, not only their own but also the blood of one another and the Guards they were fighting. On the other side of the room Marco was trying to clear the exit, to make a path so they could run as soon as they got the chance, his arm was barely still attached, he was panicking...more than he ever had before. He was trying to focus on his own battle but he happened to glance to the side...Bug. The first thing he noticed was their leg...or rather their lack there of. They were laying on the floor as a couple of Guards surrounded them, they seemed to be desperately scratching at the floor trying with the slithers of strength they had left to pull themself away from their death...but slowly he saw their movements slow, their eyes seemed to be fluttering shut...as the blood flowed endlessly from the stump which once held the remnants of their leg. His heart sunk, he could feel his stomach rising into his throat, he tried to think of a way to help...but before he could even form half a thought he was swept off of his feet.

Before he realised what had happened he found himself on the familiar soggy plant floor of the swamps. Bodie has thrown him over his shoulders, the Guards must've been distracted...they saw a chance to escape...and took it. As he hit the floor he hurriedly pulled himself to his knees, scanning the surroundings until he spotted what he was searching for

"*Bug*!"

Scrambling across the floor, he reached out to the figure which lay still and stained on the floor. He held their shoulders tightly, shaking them, begging for them to come back to them, to come back to him. He trembled as his vision became blurred with tears, he had only known them for a short while...but be loved them more than anybody he had met in his entire life. He tried to keep it together...but there was no hope. A stern hand planted itself on his shoulder, trying to pull him away, to console him, there was no way for them to save Bug, they did their best...they all did, but there was no hope. Marco refused to believe it, he refused to accept that such a bold, ambitious, strong individual...was killed, was gone! Just like that. Torn from the world, far before their time, they still had so much to do, inspiration to spread to others, the way they spread it to all of them, they couldn't be gone yet!!

But as he lay there, a corpse lay beside him and there was no way for him to deny the truth ajy longer. Yet still he didn't leave their side, everyone tried to drag him away, Maria did all she could, cawing, pecking at his head to try and get him to go...but he would not. As they morning began to arrive the rest decided there was no point in trying to reason with him, so they left him there, to accept his grief, all but Maria, who remained, but perched on a tree nearby as to not disturb his grieving.

He spent hours beside them, trying to accept thag they were really gone. They weren't coming back, their voice would never reach his ears again, nor would their glistening eyes meet his, all of the things that made them unique, that made them admirable, all of them gone, never to be witnessed again. He couldn't stand it...he eventually realised he had to leave them, seeing them like this...seeing what was left of their physical form like this, it wouldn't help, it would only trap him in his grief. So he asked Maria to keep an eye on the dead, ensure no harm came to the soulless remains of his loved one...the one he loved...yet they never knew it.

He left then, he went back to the cottage, Bodie tried to offer some comfort but they quickly agreed it best to not speak of it for now. They could discuss that later, for now they ate. It bad been awhile since Marco had a meal such as this one surrounded by those he cared for, eating a meal prepared by those who cared for him as well, but the entire time he knew something was missing, somebody was missing. The meal was quick and quiet...nobody able to think of the words for their feelings. Afterwards it was time to face the facts, they had to discuss what to do with the body, Bug wouldn't have appreciated them just leaving them to rot...they had to have some form of funeral for their fallen friend. The event was arranged for the next week, they had to give themselves time to...acknowledge their own woes, until then the corpse would remain in a small shed nearby. Everyone would take turns ensuring they did not rot, or decompose.

Everyone was dreading it, but as the day neared, they all knew that they had to do this. The only way to accept that Bug was lost...was to bury what remained. The day arrived, the hole was dug and everyone stood around...them, their eyes were closed, their clothes torn and stained with blood and grit. The group felt it fit to bury them in the clothes they wore when they fell, they knew they would rather this over being dressed in finery or jewels, they were a fighter, they were a protector...and so they shall be remembered as such. Bodie & Timmy made comments on their friends, on how much they changed their lives even if they weren't present for long. Rolden and Lora made small remarks, they barely knew them, but they seemed a fearless individual.

The time came, Bug was gently placed in the grave, Marco offered to seal the grave, but asked to do it in solitude...so he could have a few moments with the deceased. Fortunately the rest agreed, Timmy was relieved to be away from the corpse...it pained him to see.

So now here we are, Marco holding a shovel and kneeling beside a ditch. He gazed down at the figure who lay there, now pale...distant, nothing like the lively, glowing person he had fallen for, he had fought for. He never got to tell them, they never got to know, he cared for them so dearly, and they died before he could say it. He reached into his bag and pulled a bunch of Gardenias to rest them upon the dead, he opened their hands and tucked them between their fingers. A sigh escaped him as he rested upon his knees, his eyes stared at the poor face down in the ground as he decided to give his final message to his love;

"Well, I hoped the worst wouldn't come that we would all make it out of there, but I guess that was wishful thinking wasn't it. Even if you had to die I simply wish I could have told you before you went, if I could see you for even a second longer I would confess in an instant, even if I could only say three words that would be enough...I love you, I loved you *Bug* I just wish you were still here to hear it"

He stood, beginning to scoop dirt back into the hole, aiming it so he could admire their face for as long as possible. As it finally began to cover them in their entirety he finished his little speach;

"And now with your body, my love too is burried, to be left as the world goes by, as life carries on, neither shall ever be heard of again...both left to decompose and become part of Earth, part of our history, I loved you *Bug*, more than I could have ever said, good night"

[leonardalphachurch]

you know what. i say that all chucker is actually chuckboose in disguise but you know what the same is true for tuckington. caboose is there. he needs to be there. why are you writing tucker and wash together without their third. where is he.

[mastercrownmonday]

ft. star dream

wow i wonder what shenanigans lie ahead

(sibling post on main)