#mac and the tree situation

[maculategiraffe]

a highly esteemed deed is commemorated here

I don't know what exactly this thing is that we got at a yard sale and kept on top of a bookshelf to class the joint up a little but I do know that that dent is where a rafter snapped by the tree's impact hit it and STOPPED

what is this thing so I can tell everyone that my brave and selfless [decorative... metal... casserole dish?] sacrificed its lid to save a major table, probably the actual floor, and quite possibly a nearby glass fronted cabinet

[ellecdc]

part II - Pretty Woman

slow burn poly!wolfstar Pretty Woman (1990) au: established wolfstar, escort!reader, side jegulily, eventual dorlene, political heist-type situation, depictions and descriptions of sex-work

I // II

CW: financial insecurity, Sirius money-is-no-object Black, sugar babe vibes, brief mention of Black family [3.1k words]

link to series masterlist

The words on the page before you began to blur and melt as you watched the way the shadows of the leaves danced across them; the canopy of trees above your fire-escape-turned-balcony swaying in the gentle breeze and providing you with broken bits of shade. 

You almost laughed that out of the two documents Sirius had sent you home with, the legal NDA was rather easy to read through and already signed, sitting safely on your bedside table for your next meeting. 

You were having a harder time with the second document; one that you were supposed to replicate for him.

‘About Me’ it read. And it was - about Sirius, that is. Everything that a long-term girlfriend soon-to-be fiance hopefully one day wife should know.

His favourite colour is black, but there was someone else's font beside it that read “this doesn’t count, Sirius”, to which what you could only assume was Sirius’ scrawl wrote “bloody hell, fine, blue then.” His birthday is November 3rd. He’s a dog person, but Remus likes cats so he thinks he’ll likely have to cave one day and get him a cat. That note made you smile. He wanted to study art history (someone wrote the word ‘nerd’ beside that) but his parents didn’t approve, so he studied architectural design instead. He listed the Godfather as his favourite movie, but when someone wrote ‘liar’ he wrote ‘FINE. It's the 1999 made for TV version of Annie with Kathy Bates’. He’s afraid of spiders, he drinks both his coffee and tea sickly sweet - his favourite drink being a salted caramel latte, he played rugby with James growing up but quit when he decided he didn’t actually like being beaten about for sport. He left out the ‘when I was already being beaten about at home’, but you read it for what it was anyway. He can play piano but hates it, he can play the guitar less well but loves it. He’s littered in tattoos, most can be hidden under dress shirts and such, but there’s one that trails just a little too high up on his neck and a few on his hands. His favourite meal is Remus’ mum’s shepherd's pie, but the Ritz room service always made a really good baked mac and cheese.

You snorted as you threw your head back against the railing behind you - your bum growing numb from sitting on the wrought-iron bars of the fire escape - at the thought of Sirius Black sitting in a premium suite in one of the world’s poshest hotels and ordering macaroni and cheese to his room from a michelin star restaurant. 

What the fuck have I gotten myself into? You wondered wryly as you stood and forced the jammed window to your bedroom back open and crawled through. 

Sirius had offered to pick you up, but you had insisted you would meet him at the mall. Well, actually, Sirius had first offered to transfer you some money to buy a cocktail dress for dinner at his Uncle Alphard’s tomorrow night, but when you’d gone so quiet on the phone that Sirius actually pulled it away from his face to ensure the two of you were still connected, he’d offered to take you instead. 

The dinner at Alphard’s would be a good segway into the Black family nonsense; Alphard’s house would be neutral territory, his parents and other aunts and uncles would be there, but it wouldn’t be their domain. And there would also be Andromeda, her husband Ted, and of course Uncle Alphard to act as buffers.

But that’s not what had Sirius feeling so uncharacteristically nervous right now. He felt silly, sitting here at the Starbucks with sweaty hands as he considered buying a second latte. 

Yeah, he thought wryly, that’s exactly what you need - more caffeine, as if you aren’t already shaky enough. 

Sirius hadn’t felt this anxious since he’d asked Remus out on an actual date back in school. He supposed in many ways, this was a first date of sorts. A first date with the woman who was going to help him bring down his family and all the hate they stood for, with the woman who was going to be accompanying him to events with some of the worst people he knew, the woman who he was going to propose to, who he’d have to bloody marry at some point; blimey what did he get himself into? 

Thankfully you chose that moment to show up, saving Sirius from any further spiralling as he stood so quickly that he almost knocked the small bistro table clean over. 

“Hullo! Fuckin’ hell. Hi!” He stuttered awkwardly as he caught the table and righted his nearly finished coffee.

“Hi.” You murmured softly with a matching smile.

“Hi.” Sirius said again, wiping his hands on his trousers and smiling back at you. 

“Hi.” You repeated; smile growing into a cheekier smirk as you watched him botch this. 

“Great, awesome.” Sirius said with a smile. “You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” You laughed.

“Oh, and now you’re lying to me.”

You shook your head and looked down at your feet. Sirius wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he hired an escort, but he found he was surprised by how plain a lot of your wardrobe seemed to be. Granted he had only met you twice, but from those two times it had become clear to him that when you weren’t working, you preferred to be nondescript. Classic tees, shirts, and blouses, and denim or, in today’s case, corduroys; you looked vintage and casual, put together in a way without looking like you tried too hard. Though, once again, you were only as nondescript as any pretty woman could be, and he was sure that anyone even remotely attracted to women would absolutely spare you a second glance - corduroys or otherwise. 

But he couldn’t help but admit - at least to himself -  that he was a little bit excited at the prospect of getting to dress you up. 

“Are you- do you want a drink?” Sirius asked as he gestured towards the Starbucks behind him, nearly taking out an errant shopper with his hand causing him to have to call out a hasty apology. 

“Oh, uhm, no, no. I’m good, thank you though.” You declined quickly as you hiked your purse further up on your shoulder, though you were eyeing the store with intrigue.

Ah, Sirius thought to himself, allergic to spending money - I know a thing or two about your type. 

“Listen, gorgeous, we’re going to be spending a lot of money today, so you’d be better to start with something small to ease yourself into it.” He quipped.

He’d been going for light and breezy - even shooting you a cheeky wink - but you seemed to blanche at that. 

“I’m… I don’t have much on me, Sirius…” You started, and Sirius fought the urge to wince at his faux pas.

“My money, doll; we’re going to be spending a lot of my money.” 

“I-”

“It’s number six.”

You turned away from the coffee shop to look at him in bemusement. “What?”

“Number six, how you take your tea and coffee; your favourite drink.” He explained. “Mine’s a salted caramel latte. What’s yours?” 

You took a deep breath as you searched his eyes for a few moments before turning back towards the drink menu. “Are you getting something?”

“I was considering getting a second.” Sirius allowed as he nodded towards his forgotten cup.

“I’ll get it, then.” You offered, and made your way into the shop before Sirius could even respond, returning a few moments later with a salted caramel latte for Sirius and some kind of sweet looking cold brew for yourself. 

“Thank you.” He offered as he accepted the drink from your grasp; your name scrawled prettily on the side of the cup. 

“Don’t mention it.” You whispered back as you took a sip of your own.

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“What about this one?” Sirius asked for what had to have been the thirteenth time in this store alone as he held up a garment for you to consider. 

You barely spared the dress a half a glance before you were reaching to the sleeve - not coincidentally where the price tag was.

“Would you stop checking the price?” He hissed as he gently swatted your hand away. “Do you like this dress?” 

You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as you looked between him and the dress again. “I don’t know, Sirius, I- it’s not something I’d ever buy for myself.”

Sirius sighed as he returned the dress to the rack and gave you a Look™. “I do not mean any offence, doll, but I think that’s sort of the point.” He offered softly.

You groaned miserably and cradled your face in your hands. “I’m sorry - I’m being terribly difficult.” 

“You’re not being terribly difficult.” Sirius appeased, waiting for you to peek at him through your fingers. “Only mildly.”

You groaned again but allowed your hands to fall away from your face to land on your hips as you considered the rack in front of you. Your bottom lip dimpled as if you were chewing on the inside of your lip as you turned to a rack behind you that the two of you (read: Sirius) had been looking through moments ago and sifted through it again.  

“That would be a nice colour on you.” He offered as you paused on a dress. You kept your face pointed towards the dress but looked up at him through your eyelashes before pulling the dress out and holding it up against him.

“Now, I don’t know what you think you know about my family, but generally, I save my dress wearing for when I’m in the privacy of my own home or at a very specific bar.”

Sirius watched as your nose crinkled before you were dropping the garment and lowering your chin to your chest in an attempt to hide your snickering; Sirius momentarily wished you wouldn’t. 

“I didn’t mean for you,” you chided through a giggle as you held the dress back up against him; he didn’t argue this time, “I was checking to see if the colour looks good on you as well.”

Sirius found his cheeks flaming hot as the question ‘and does it?’ settled on the tip of his tongue. But, like the fucking prat he is, all he managed to spit out was “of course it does, I look good in everything.” 

You rolled your eyes good naturedly and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘git’  under your breath before nodding once. “I think I’ll get this one, then.”

“Great job.” He said as he swiped the dress from you and folded it over his arm. “Now pick three more and then we can head to the next store.”

“Thre- next store? Sirius, I-”

“I told you we were spending a lot of money today, Y/N, I meant it.” He said simply as he encouraged you forward by the small of your back. You sounded as though you were going to say something but acquiesced when he patted your hip twice before pulling his hand away from you. 

“You don’t wear a lot of colour, I’ve noticed.” Sirius offered, swinging the bags he was carrying casually in his hands as the two of you slowly made your way through the mall after purchasing shoes ‘to go with the dresses, doll’ and even some sodding bags ‘think of it as an investment, gorgeous; you’re an employee, and working for me comes with a uniform. I’m providing you with a uniform’. 

You looked at him sideways as you continued walking, trying to ignore the feeling of everyone doing double takes to see a girl looking so plain with designer bags in her hands and a certified adonis by her side. If he hadn’t told you his favourite colour was black, you would have guessed as much just from the sheer amount of it he wore. But whereas you wore a fair amount of black in an attempt to disappear - to blend in - he seemed to do it to make his own statement; it stood out in stark contrast against his fair skin, and depending on what he was wearing, complimented his many (visible) tattoos nicely. It also left his eyes - a grey blue - appearing that much more brilliantly bright and striking.

All this to say, he wasn’t one to talk.

“No…” You allowed. “Neither do you, though.”

“Touche.” He offered you with a wink - or, what you were sure was a wink - behind his sunglasses as the window-pane roof let in an unusual amount of sunlight for this time of year in the UK. “Why don’t you, though?”

You sighed as you stepped onto the escalator going down and redistributed your bags in your hands instead of answering right away. “I get looked at more than I’d like to already.” You admitted quietly. “I… I get enough attention, I don’t need to garner any more.”

You weren’t looking at Sirius but you could feel his gaze on you before he nodded his head in your periphery. “I get that, I think. Growing up in a political family came with a lot of attention. Then being the runaway, then playing the poster child again.”

You hummed an acknowledgement. “You seem to lean into it, though?” You hadn’t meant it to be offensive, but when Sirius’ mouth opened in a disbelieving laugh, your stomach dropped. “Not- no, I’m- that’s not what I-”

“Relax, babe. I get it.” He waved you off as the two of you stepped off the escalator. “It’s true; I always sort of figured, they’re looking at me anyways, you know? Might as well give them something to talk about.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, only breaking it to apologise when one of you brushed against the other with one of the many bags adorning your hands.

“Where’d you park?” Sirius asked as the two of you stepped out into the daylight. Fuck, you hadn’t thought this through.

You were expecting to shop for maybe one dress for tomorrow’s dinner, and you were planning to shove the garment into your purse for the train ride back home. There was simply no way you could manage public transport with this many bags, and the chances of you being mugged on your way increased significantly for every designer bag you had. 

You wondered if the clothes would even be safe in your flat at all, knowing the only locks that you trusted were the chain bolted to the front door that you installed yourself, and the piece of wood you jammed in your window at the fire escape so no one could open it from the outside. 

“Y/N?”

“No. Uhm, sorry.” You started, looking towards Sirius but not necessarily at him. “Actually, I’m- well, do you think I could keep them at your place? I…I don’t- I don’t necessarily want my neighbours knowing I have this kind of stuff in my flat.”

Sirius’ eyes softened and you felt a little guilty at the half truth, but soldiered on. “I’d just hate to come home from work one day to find it all missing, you know?” You tried to joke. 

You swore Sirius’ mouth pinched slightly before he schooled his expression and redistributed the bags he was currently holding into one hand and held out his free one to take yours. 

“Oh! I could help-”

“That’s alright, doll, I’ve got it.” He said as he relinquished your bags from you. “Tomorrow, then? I assume you’ll be getting ready at my place? Do you want a ride?”

“No! No, that’s alright, I’ll meet you there if you just want to send me your address.” 

The two of you said goodbye and you watched Sirius walk through the car park until he disappeared behind a row of vehicles, and you stepped back into the mall to wait for the next train that didn’t come for another 45 minutes. 

Sirius let out a breath as he closed the door to his and Remus’ townhouse behind him; the sounds of the London streets melting away to the odd honk or occasional car door closing as he began searching their home.

He needn’t search long, however, finding Remus exactly where he knew he would be.

”Did’ya have a good day?” Remus asked without looking up from the potatoes he was peeling, though he did turn his face slightly to reciprocate the kiss Sirius pressed to his cheek. 

“Yeah, not bad.” Sirius agreed in an exhale as he disposed of the many shopping bags onto the kitchen island.

Remus opened his mouth as he turned - no doubt about to scold Sirius for messing up his clean kitchen - when his face pinched in confusion.

”I thought you were going shopping for Y/N?” 

“We did.”

”Sirius!”

”Remus.” Sirius shot back as he made himself comfortable on one of the high stools.

”You’re going to scare her away.” Remus muttered as he washed and dried his hands before coming over to peek inside of the bags, pulling the documents you had returned to Sirius out of one of them. 

“She was much more tolerable than you were when I first took you shopping.” 

Remus shot him an unimpressed glare though he didn’t bother gracing him with a response as he leaned back against the counter and flipped through the pages in his hands. “Why didn’t she take any of this with her?” He asked as he motioned to the bags now littering his kitchen island.

Sirius felt his own mouth pinch in displeasure as he recounted your reasoning. “She said she was worried her neighbours would see - didn’t want anyone to know she had anything of value in her flat.”

Remus made a sympathetic hum as Sirius pondered what it was exactly about that sentiment that left such a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Sounds like my flat back on 31st.” 

Sirius groaned at the memory of Remus’ flat he had back in university. Sirius had spent the first eight months of his and Remus’ relationship begging him to move in with him and James; he’d already spent most nights there in Sirius’ bed anyways! But Remus was proud and argued with Sirius when he said as much.

”I hated when you lived there.” He grumbled, and Sirius pretended not to notice Remus’ eyebrow lift as he considered him. 

“Yeah?” He asked as he turned back towards his potatoes with a muted grin. “So did I.” 

[wlntrsldler]

MDNI!!!!!!!!! (thoughts about luke castellan)

im listening to practice by drake and i can’t stop thinking about fwb! luke 😀

thinking about how the minute you’re back at camp (from visiting family for the holidays or something stupid like that) luke pulls you away from everyone before you even get to say hi to anyone.

you’re smirking because you already know what’s next. he always got like this when you guys were apart for longer than a few days. ever since you guys started fucking, luke was insatiable.

you weren’t complaining tho because for a guy who didn’t really get much play, he was the only one you’d been with who can actually make you cum.

the second you two were away from everyone, his lips are on your neck and he’s rolling his hips onto yours. you haven’t even touched him yet and he was already hard. he was breathing heavy while he nipped at your skin, his calloused hands gripping your ass, no doubt leaving hand prints on the flesh.

“fuck, i missed this,” luke groaned into your lips, a string of saliva connected your lips. “my fuckin hand isn’t the same.”

you were breathless, “i was gone for like a week, castellan.”

“too long,” he mumbled, his lips connecting with yours again.

you tugged on his curls, making him whine into your mouth. your back was pressed against a tree and you can feel the bark scratching the sliver of skin that was exposed by your top but you didn’t care. luke’s dick was pressed against your thigh and you can feel his pre-cum seeping through his cargo pants.

you hooked one leg on his hip and thrusted up. luke didn’t expect the change in position and he moaned when he felt your warmth brush over the tip of his dick. he pulled away from you, eyes blown wide, and lips puffy from his attack on your lips.

“let me fuck you.” he whispered, “please.”

he wasn’t above begging anymore. he just needed to fucking feel you.

you shook your head. luke ran a hand through his hair, his sexual frustration causing a knot to twist in his stomach. you looked up at him, batting your lashes, “let me take care of you, luke.”

his eyebrows shot up in surprise. luke licked his lips, the tip of his tongue stopping at the corner of his mouth. a cocky smirk grazed his face and he nodded his head slightly to give you the go ahead.

you sank to your knees, undoing his cargo pants on your way down. you pulled put his cock from his boxers, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

“you gonna make me feel good, baby?”

“not your baby,” you said, but your voice said something different. “been practicing.”

luke scoffed in a teasing way at your implications. you always made those comments whenever you came back to camp, like you had other guys to do this with besides him.

luke didn’t feel threatened by the idea. in fact, it only spurred him on because if you were out there fucking other guys, he knew none of them could have you the way he gets to. you were his and he was yours. whatever fucking label you had on this situation was bullshit as far as he’s concerned.

luke placed a hand on the side of your cheek, guiding you toward his dick, “you can talk all the shit you want but it’s my dick that’s gonna be down your throat and it’s my cum you’re about to swallow.”

that shut you up.

part 2 kinda (cinderella by mac miller)

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hey, i'm not sure if i can ask u this(u can just not answer if u want)but here i was wondering....

What Would happen if Sun and Mac(separate) met a fem Reader that is an incredibly nice and chill(and very beautiful)person, she's really kind and looks out for them, they bond and become friends in the process, but then after one crazy drunk Night, they don't see the Reader nor hear bout' her for a while(which upsets them a lot), until they run into her again, trying to contain their joy(or frustration if u prefer) they suddenly notice a child behind her,one that looks exactly like them, demanding an explanation, turns out the Reader didn't tell them anything BC they were scared of simply Being Seen as a "one Night stand", not having their feeling Being reciprocated and having their child Being rejected(also didn't want push the fatherly into them) so she raised the child herself, and always made sure to give them all her love despite not having it's father(s) by her Side.

a/n: I got a bit carried away and of course Macaque’s is long because this would shatter his trust and it wouldn’t recover as fast as Wukong would.

One night stand reunion //Sun Wukong x fem!reader x Macaque (separately)

Sun Wukong

When he first met you he swore that love at first sight wasn’t a thing but you were incredibly nice and beautiful, maintaining a chill attitude no matter the situation and easily continuing the conversation naturally.

You both first met at a festival on the outskirts of the city where you found him talking with another boy before catching your gaze. Of course, you knew who he was but it didn’t really matter to you since you just wanted to talk to him.

After a couple of minutes, you both warmed up to one another and talked the night away. You both clearly hit it off immediately and slowly became friends which started edging towards more as you both said flirt after flirt.

One night both of you were having drinks and became tipsy, getting closer and closer with hands roaming up both of your bodies. You kissed passionately and slowly stripped down to nothing, ending the night in each other's arms exhausted and panting harshly.

However as days passed he didn’t see you and started to search all over the city, asking MK and the gang if they’d seen you and describing your features only to find nothing. Anybody could tell Wukong was depressed about your sudden disappearance and tried to cheer him up only for every attempt to fail.

A couple of years later suddenly MK calls Wukong to come to the shop since someone was asking to meet him and zoomed over to meet this stranger. You were nervously pacing back and forth with your child holding onto your hand behind you, poking you to get your attention, and looking wide-eyed at Wukong who stares shocked at you both.

His eyes go from you to your child who is almost a carbon copy of him aside from a few details and back to you, ushering your kid to MK and Pigsy while you listen to his frustration and grievances. He was right on some points and you teared up when you yelled that you were scared he didn’t love you back or worse that he didn’t want the baby so you raised them alone.

There were a few minutes of silence before Wukong kneeled down and peered over at his kid, slowly coaxing them out and smiling warmly when he introduced himself and apologized for not being in their life.

The entire night was emotional for everyone and you all spent the night on FFM, sharing stories from the past years and cuddling each other to make up for lost time.

Macaque

Now you were at a full moon harvest festival when you decided to take a break and hang on the edge of the area when you spotted a dark-furred monkey leaning against a tree. He didn’t seem up to chat and mostly ignored you for a bit, respecting his wishes and sitting in pleasant silence. You heard him sigh and speak up, making a joke about how persistent you were to make conversation.

Macaque was surprised by how insistent you were to talk to him but also how nice you were, respecting his wishes and relaxing next to him. You were gorgeous on top of how amazing your personality was it made him want to know you more than just a stranger but his fractured trust issues made it hard to get to know you better.

Unlike Wukong it takes a couple of weeks to become good friends and a couple of months to get to that night where you get drunk, leaning on him and slowly creeping closer. Another drink and you both go for a kiss, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bring him back to your apartment and lead him to your bedroom, quickly stripping and feeling him trailing kisses down your neck.

All of a sudden though, in the following days you disappeared, and he at first thought you were busy so he left it at that but it quickly changed when he couldn’t find you anywhere. All he could find was a note taped to your door for him and it read that you were eternally sorry for what you were about to do but you didn’t want to burden him.

This shattered already broken trust issues and caused him to go into a year-long depression where he had so many different emotions bothering him it physically pained him. No one could get him out or break him out of it and he hated that a part of him still held out hope for you.

2 or so years later he seemed to have finally been getting over you or at least seemed as though he got over it to others when he was walking along the marketplace only to see a familiar face pass through the crowd. Without hesitation, he slipped into the shadows to see if it was really you and it was!

Part of him was furious that you had the audacity to show up here like nothing had ever happened but the other part was nearly crying out of joy that you were back. Without question, he dropped you through a shadow portal to a more private area and stepped out of the shadows.

You both stared at one another before he started shouting about how you didn’t even explain why you left or bothered to even tell him in person. He laid into you with shout after shout and screaming how much you hurt him with tears pricking his eyes, looking at your face with tears streaming down your face, and waited patiently for a response.

However, a small voice spoke up, and a nearly identical version of him but a toddler pulled on your hand also crying, asking you if you were okay and to not cry with a hand over one set of their six ears. You continued to sob but kneeled down on the concrete to hug your kid barely sputtering out apologies to them about the noise and that you were just sad.

He watched in shock as the dark-furred cub wrapped their tail around your arm and cupped your face, trying to wipe your tears and getting caught in a staring match with him. The kid looked back and forth between their mom and him before standing protectively in front of you and correctly assuming he was the reason you were upset.

After a couple of minutes, he knelt down as well continuing to look at your kid and having trouble figuring out what to say since he was still hurt but also now understanding the situation. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes, staring at the ground beginning to explain that you panicked.

You told him how after a couple of days you took a pregnancy test and it came up positive but you assumed that he didn’t love you back and would be disgusted or hateful if he found out about your baby. Then explain to your kid that he was their father and profusely apologizing and understanding if he never wanted to see you again.

It was like Macaque was looking into a mirror as he saw the child’s six ears flutter and he took down the glamour around his own ears, seeing the cub light up in astonishment and touch their own ears. They slowly walked toward him and tentatively put his hand out, wanting to touch his dad and slowly allowing them to hug him.

All the while you looked on with a bittersweet smile and heard Macaque respond that it would take a long time for him to fully trust you again but he could understand why you what you did. You started crying when you saw him quietly crying too and crumbled as you were allowed to hug him as well.

[stxrr-strxckk]

Prompt: Astarion seeing the sunrise, or sunset, for the first time in 200 years?

This is such a cute prompt omg

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Astarion x reader- seeing the sunrise for the 1st time!

Any warnings?: Tooth rotting fluff and some implied sexual situations, nothing graphic tho!

Whats on the record player?: Heart to Heart; Mac Demarco, Let The Light In; Lana Del Ray.

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When you found out Astarion hadn't seen the sunrise since he'd been turned, you felt your heart break. You couldn't imagine having to deprive yourself of such a beautiful experience, and for 200 years no less.

"It's no matter, dear," he'd said upon seeing your saddened expression. "I never enjoyed the sunset anyways." This, of course, was a bold faced lie. While Astarion didn't have many memories of his mortal life, the warmth of basking in the sunrise was one he wanted to cling to desperately. The only thing he would ever want more than to see the sunrise again, was to see it with you.

You knew Astarion well enough to be able to tell when he was lying, so of course you decide to start planning your little surprise right then, unbeknownst to the vampire.

When you can't seem to sleep that night, though Astarion just chalks it up to adrenaline from a fight earlier that day. He slings an arm around your waist, holding you close for the night and burying his head in the crook of your neck. Wriggling out of his tight grasp proves difficult hours later as you try to get everything prepared for your favorite elf.

So of course it's a surprise when he's shaken awake and it's still dark out. He thought it was an emergency at first; why else would you disturb his slumber? He's ready to spring into action, until he's looking up to see your gorgeous face just giddy with excitement. False alarm. He would've griped about the early awakening, but he'd hate to spoil your good mood so soon.

He follows obediently as you eagerly pull him through the woods, your fingers laced with his as you take him to this mystery destination through the darkened trees. (Be glad he has night vision to warn you of fallen branches or rocks in your way, even if you have it yourself you're just too focused on making Astarion's day to care about any injuries.)

As the trees finally clear, Astarion swears he can feel his dead heart beat again at the sight. A small clearing, with a picnic setup overlooking the cliffs. The sounds of the ocean only add to the atmosphere as he stares in disbelief.

"You did all this... For me?"

He tries to contain his joy but when he turns to see your face, scrunched up as you try to tell how he's feeling, Astarion can't help but grab you by the waist and spin you around.

You two tumble into the grass, laughing as your foreheads touch. He kisses your temple, softly as if you might break if he isn't gentle.

"No one's ever cared for me like this before, I-" he pauses, at a loss for words. "thank you."

You smile as he stands up, offering you a hand. You two lay on the picnic blanket you'd bought the day before from a small shop, watching as the sun slowly peeks above the horizon line and casts glittering rays across the sea.

You smile as you feel the warmth on your face, glancing over to Astarion to see if he's enjoying himself.

The sight is almost heavenly- his face, usually pale has a sort of warmth to it, a glow that you've never seen before. His curls brush his shoulders as he leans his head back, basking in the glory of morning. You've never seen him smile so wide before- so genuinely. You haven't seen him frown or heard him complain once since you've come up here.

"Darling," Astarion grabs your hands, bringing them up to his lips. His kisses them gently, looking up at you with such a soft expression you feel as though you would've swooned and fallen over if you weren't already sitting.

"This has been the most wonderful morning. And it was made even better because I got to share it with you, my love." he'd be blushing if he had any blood coursing through his veins. "We have a few more minutes, before the rest of our group wakes up. Would you... Like to stay here with me? Just for a little longer?" he almost feels bad asking, you have so much to do and such little time to do it. Why would you make time for him?-

You throw your arms around him, tackling him a hug as you nod your head yes. The group can do without you for a while longer, it's not the end of the world. Today was about Astarion. Nothing could take this moment away from you two.

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

Bonus: "Where are those two?" Karlach groans tapping her foot. The group's been up for what seems like hours- yet you and Astarion are nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps they've gone to do some... Exploring." Shadowheart says simply. The rest of the group seems to pick up on the inneundo.

"You mean the exploring of each other's bodies?" Gale snorts.

"Yes, that was implied." Shadowheart replies curtly. She didn't have time for this, these two running around like teenagers. Gale's crude remark was only adding to her annoyance.

"Sorry we're late everyone," Astarion announces.

"Finally..." Lae'zel mutters.

"Enjoy your beauty sleep, Astarion?" Gale taunts with a cheeky grin. "Or did you even sleep at all? Seems you and your little friend have some explaining to do." he gestures at the fresh bite marks on your neck, which you cover with your hand. You feel your face flush as Astarion brings his arm around your shoulders.

"Jealous, Gale?" he laughs. You wish you could teleport away; this is enough embarrassment for today. "I understand nobody looks your way but that's no reason you get mad at me for having a little... Fun~"

"Thats enough. We must make haste if we're to get any good work done today." Shadowheart interrupts. You slip out of Astarions grasp while he's distracted. You love the man but gods can he be a bit much.

"Yeah, what she said!" Karlach yells cheerfully. The party seems to move on after that, as everyone slowly leaves camp. You trail back, laughing as you see Astarion cast you an annoyed look of having to walk next to Gale.

"So," Karlach slows her pace to walk next to you. "How's the vampire in bed?"

You should've seen this coming.

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

a/n: aaaah this is so cute!!! Lmk what you think and PLEASE send more Astarion requests!!! Probably gonna do some modern au stuff with him, love the idea of him trying to figure out how to use a phone for the 1st time. XX, Starr!

Wordcount: 1148

[crybaby-magic]

Our Past

sun wukong x daughter reader

based off of the song:The Horse and the Infant

Traveling with Macaque,Mk,and the Monkeys was not doing you any good.You can feel the raging headache waiting to tear your skull apart while yall travel through the semi fixed scroll to find Wukong.From Wukongs memories to the tears that randomly forming throughout the place.You really just want to hurry this up so they can defeat the overgrown lion and you can get your much needed sleep.

Honestly you kinda curse at Mk for finding the damn stick that soon lead to all this but at the same time you know it destiny.At the same time it could be jealousy that he hangs out with your dad more than you and you been with him for centuries.Signing out once more you travel on with white monkeys hanging off of you. “ What's with all the sighing girly”Macaque asked while slowing down to walk beside you.

“Nothing, just the whole situation sucks.And I might be slightly worried about the old man.”You muttered the last part slightly embarrassed.Macaque gruffly laughed at your antics while shaking his head.

You soon felt Mk jump onto your back making you slightly stumble. “Hey don’t worry we'll find him in no time then we can leave then we can beat up Azure lion then we can…umm we can do something i don't know what but we'll find out later.”He said in a reassuring cheeky voice. “A good side is weeee-” grabbing Macaque,you,and the monkeys in a hug “Get to see how Sun Wukong was through his memories”

Macaque shook his head “I really don’t care for relieving some of the memories” while heading ahead of the group.Mk pouted a bit while still hanging off of you before facing you.”What about you,aren’t you a little interested?” he said in a pouting voice.Smirking you nodded your head that got an ecstatic reaction from him.He hopped off of you and headed ahead.With a slight distant look you looked around in Wukongs memories shaking it off you head towards the two that were near a crack that a tiny monkey kept pointing at.

“Hey look, this little guy is pointing us somewhere i think he knows where Sun Wukong is at” Mk said.Nodding your head you wander through the crack hoping not to fall into another memory.

————————————☆————————

That damn monkey is going to get it when you see it.It didn’t lead you to wukong but to a village at night.From observation nobody was out it looked like a ghost town almost.Through another problem was that nobody could figure out where y'all are.Mk surprisingly had no knowledge seeing as he knew everything about his past and Mac really couldn’t tell you anything.

The group was going to leave till you heard noise standing behind some trees yall peek out at the village.Then it happened chaos ensued In the far distance(the front of the village) fire started to arise.Then the scream,clashing of weapons,crying too where the hell were you guys and what the hell did Wukong do in his past.

Still peeking from the tree yall soon saw Wukong in his battle gear covered in blood.His staff dripping though something seems odd looking closer it seem that he was lead by his golden vision.All the while he holding someone's dead body by their head,from the looks of it the guy looked like the villages leader or something of the sort.He dropped the body and walked over him into the house.

You soon tuned everything out and headed to a window ignoring Macaque’s and Mk’s voice.Something felt familiar or strange you couldn’t- didn’t want to find out but…why.Macaque and Mk with some monkeys came to the opened window too.Observing the situation it seemed to be a plan room with a few hand sewn teddy bears on the floor.In the center of the dark room was a bassinet being lit up by the full moon.You felt your heart dropped a babies room.You had the thought of oh great jade empire he wouldn't,couldn’t it's a literal kid.Then again the other thought of yeah he probably would the amount of times he nearly killed you as a kid is embarrassingly high.

“Hey the door opened.”Mk pointed out snapping you out of your thoughts.Wukong entered the room eyes illuminated by the moon his eyes looked so empty that it actually scared you.Wind brushed past you forcing the door opened wider making it slam into the wall startling the baby making it start crying.

His eyes sharpened at the noise coming from the bassinet.He walked very slowly to it before staring down at the baby.He seemed to be having an eternal battle with himself before he lifted his staff in the motion that he was going to hit the baby.Everyone in the group looked disturbed your eyes widened with tears and let out a squeak that Macaque covered when you saw him swinging down.You closed your eyes hard tears falling at this soon to be gruesome scene.You knew he had a fucked up past at times but this honestly scared you.

Suddling you heard his staff falling then the sound of a child giggling.Looking up you saw Wukong’s gripping the edge of the bassinet.Slowly he reached in picking up the baby.The baby was in a long night dress that fell over there feet.The baby had the shortest hair but on the back of its neck you saw a serpent mark.A snake that was in a circle eating it own tail kinda.Subconsciously you rubbed the back of your neck realizing why this seemed so familiar, you’re the baby.

It’s hard to believe when he told you ‘he found you randomly one day and decided to pity your mortal existence’.(that you did hit him across the head for his ignorant tone in the end)You must have mumbled it out loud cause you heard Mk’s dramatic gasp and if Macaque had any reaction it was well hidden behind a scowl.

Observing the scene before you,you saw how he interacted with you, bouncing you and smiling while you giggled and pressed your tiny hands on his nose.Tears must have been falling from your eyes when you felt Macaque mess up your hair as he walked away gruffly saying “ let's go find your idiot dad.” Mk and the tiny monkeys soon followed after him.Turning around to follow them you heard wukong speak up so you turned your head to listen.

“It's hard to believe that something as cute as you could be dangerous in the future,so why don’t you come with me little on.Wanna go see a pretty mountain with pretty flowers.”A trail of giggling babbles followed.A small smile formed on your mouth though you’ll never reveal that.

[forevamark]

3. i'm gonna yak! | time lapse l.mk

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

Tags: pre idol debut to idol au, christmas and new years time line, slice of life moments, college student reader, substantial plot leading to smut, very dialogue heavy, angsty moments, slow burn, relationship struggle, lovers to exes to lovers

Intended for 18+ readers, minors do not interact.

masterlist for time lapse

previous ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next

Word Count : 6.3k+

Summary: Mark has always had the dream of becoming a big music star, meanwhile your aspirations lied with academics and coexisting with Mark. Mark struggles with telling reader that he will be leaving for Korea to pursue his music career very soon, in fear of losing what they have.

warnings are under the tab for chapters that apply.

—-

December 1, 2023

“So you have slept with him… right?” Kathy interrogates ignoring her stacks of papers.

You two were situated in the library cramming for the last exam of your undergraduate career. 

“I have not,” you responded lazily while flipping through the textbook in front of you, “As I told you before, I don’t even know if I’m ready for a relationship yet.”

“It’s been almost a year y/n! Don’t let this go because of He Who Shall Not Be Named…” Kathy groans while attempting to loosen your grip on your pencil, “Seungcheol is so hot, plus he’s a gentleman!”

“I feel like those should have been reversed,” you giggle, finally setting down your things and looking at her, “But yes, he is indeed very hot.”

“Stop holding back! Bring him to the annual Christmas hangout! I’m sure seeing him with all of us will make things a bit more realistic for you. Izaiah is hosting Christmas and New Year’s again. Hopefully, we can rewrite some sour memories and replace them with some sweet ones.”

It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Seungcheol is everything that makes sense as a long-term commitment- not to mention he is someone who wants a long-term commitment with you.

“Okay fine, maybe I will bring him.”

Kathy cheered a loud burst of excitement that elicited a few shushes and glares from around you two.

“Now can we go back to finishing our work? I want to finish all my classwork before the Christmas party this weekend.”

Kathy smiles and nods in agreeance.

Kathy: He will be there this weekend, right? 

Izaiah: Yes he will. Is she prepared? 

Kathy: I think she will be okay 🙂

December 2, 2023

“Red or white?” you ask Seungcheol as you hold up two different dresses in your room, him lying on your bed scrolling lazily before looking up at you.

“Red, it is Christmas after all!” he smiles before continuing to scroll.

Today is the day that Seungcheol will be introduced, properly, to your friend group. As you tugged the mascara through your eyelashes you couldn’t help but wonder what you should even introduce him as. 

“Hey guys! Merry Christmas! This is my friend that I don’t know if he’s more than a friend, sir-friend, Seungcheol!” 

Ick. You shook your head and pulled your pajamas on. You walked out meeting Seungcheol at the door as he laced his shoes, him in matching pajamas.

He grabbed his keys and the mac and cheese from the kitchen table before meeting your anxious gaze, “Ready?”

-

The crisp winter air filled with the aroma of pine and chimney smoke greeted me as you both approached Izaiah’s house. His neighborhood was adorned with twinkling Christmas lights, and the anticipation of warmth and joy hung in the air. You two reached the doorstep and knocked on the festive wreath-adorned door.

The door creaked open, revealing Izaiah’s smiling face. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he welcomed you both inside. The cozy living room was transformed into a winter wonderland, adorned with tinsel, ornaments, and a beautifully decorated Christmas tree that stood proudly in the corner.

“It’s about time!” Izaiah exclaims while pulling you into his warm home, “I was wondering when you would show up.” 

“Hi Izaiah, it really has been a while huh?” 

He chuckles as you and Seungcheol shuffle in from the cold and take your shoes off.  The boys share a hug and close the door.

“Yes, far too long! Congrats by the way! Finally done, welcome to the alum life!” 

“I’m so happy I’m done. Now let’s just hope I don’t fall on that stage.”

Friends surround you two greeting you two with holiday cheers and introductions.

A smile creeps onto your face as Seungcheol brightens the room even further with his charisma and charm.

"Hey there! Merry Christmas!" Kathy exclaimed, giving you a warm hug. The sounds of cheerful holiday music and laughter filled the air. The room was bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a warm and inviting ambiance.

"I love what you've done with the place. It's like stepping into a Christmas dream," you say, taking in the festive atmosphere.

"Thanks! I went all out this year. Come on, let’s eat," Izaiah said, leading us through the festively decorated rooms. The fireplace crackled with a gentle warmth, casting a comforting glow over the room. 

In the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air. A plate of gingerbread men, snowflake-shaped sugar cookies, and chocolate truffles tempted you from the counter. Kathy pointed proudly at the treats.

"I spent all morning baking. Help yourself!"

You two settled into the cozy living room, surrounded by the glow of Christmas lights. The flickering flames in the fireplace danced to the rhythm of the laughter and conversation. Festive ornaments dangled from the tree, and wrapped presents nestled beneath its branches.

As you all shared stories and caught up on each other's lives, the joy of the season was evident. Seungcheol’s energy felt like he was always a part of your little group. He was extroverted, making jokes here and there and telling crazy stories from his fraternity. Everyone loved him, and maybe you were included in that everyone? The room echoed with the warmth of friendship, and the spirit of Christmas was alive and well. 

The memories of the year prior hung heavy in your heart as you saw the same curtains you hid behind as you played with the little kids. The way Mark would stand against the counter, his eyes never leaving your frame as you held a baby. You remember in that moment you wanted so badly for that baby to be yours, to be his. 

Your mindless thoughts were shaken away as Seongcheol laid a lazy arm around your shoulder and gave you an ‘Are you okay’ eyebrow raise. You gave him a thumbs up before trying to settle between his arms on the couch. 

A doorbell cut off Kathy retelling a story of how you both got lost during your study abroad trip in Peru.

“Terry my boy!” Kathy shrieked as she was nearing the penultimate part of the story, “Get the door!” 

“I need to break the seal!” He shouts back, running towards the bathroom, “I’m going to pee myself from laughter!” 

You chuckle before standing up. “I’ll get it don’t worry.”

“Actually! How about I get it!” Izaiah squeaks while standing up quickly almost racing you to the door, “I am the host after all!” he sings.

“I’m already here!” you giggle pushing him out of the way.

“Please I insist!” He chuckles uneasily, starting to shove you harder, “Go get a drink!”

“I have one I’m fine-” you shove back playfully.

“Then get me one,” he grips your shoulders tightly, “please?”

“Okay…” you eye him wearily before walking backward, “Who is late anyways? Everyone is here.” 

Walking back into the living room everybody is tense. Kathy hurriedly meets you at the minibar as you pull out a glass, “So Seungcheol is assimilating in nicely I see!” 

“Yeah, I guess he is…” you mumble while pouring the gin. Commotion came from the door, greeting the new face to the party.

Kathy turns your frame to face her, “I’m so glad you brought him! You two are like perfect together!” 

“I don’t know if perfect is the word…” you bump into her lightly, “It’s only been like a month.”

“Well, a lot changed in a month! You’re finally all smiley after a year of Miss Grumpy, I’d say let’s cheers to that!” She raises her cup to meet yours.

“This isn’t even mine,” you chuckle before clinking glasses with her.

“Well trust me you’re going to need that shot!” She hurriedly lifted the cup to your lips and felt the liquid burn down your throat. 

“That sucked!” you yelled while making a face.

“Not as much as this…” She mumbled while pouring you another.

“Woah slow down!” you laughed about to stop her, but she handed you the glass again.

“No no… you’ll need that!”

Before you could protest you heard something from behind that made you drop the glass on the floor, everyone’s head turning towards you, the silence deafening. 

“Merry Christmas everyone!” the voice rasped out before turning towards the mess of a noise you made.

There he stood. Looking more amazing than ever. His hair was a light brown, not put together but gorgeously effortless. His cheeks were dusted pink, growing more red by the second as you two stood there taking each other in. The room seemed to start spinning as you took in the man you once knew so fondly. 

He’s changed a lot, yet not at all. His posture was better, long gone was that slouch that used to slump over his guitar in your apartment. His style was still the same, baggy sweaters and sweatpants only this time adorned in name brands that probably cost the same as your semesterly tuition. But his hands. They gleamed in the silver jewelry, rings stacked with bracelets to match. 

Your hands shook as he felt time still staring at the woman he never stopped loving. Your curves hugging your silk red pajamas, fluffy socks with small snowmen. It’s you. It’s always been you.

“y/n” he breathed out. 

“Mark-” you whispered. 

“Oh my God! It’s thee, Mark Lee!” You heard from across the room breaking your eye contact between you two, Mark’s unmoving.

“Dude, you are a legend!” Seungcheol said while motioning to Mark to dap him up. Mark doesn’t look away as he accepts his handshake and mumbles a small thank you. 

“Babe, you never told me you know Mark Lee?” Seungcheol says while wrapping an arm around you, “The pride of our town, man, thee, Mark Lee.”

“Babe?” Mark scoffs while narrowing his eyes at Seungcheol, finally breaking eye contact to take in your two matching pajamas. 

“Not official,” Seungcheol laughs before heading towards the fridge, “But don’t worry, we’ll lock that down soon,” he winks at you before turning back to Mark, “Yo bro, want a drink? I bet you have so many stories, you know, with you being famous and all.”

Mark shook the thousands of angry thoughts away from his mind and managed to shake out a stiff nod accepting the beer and taking a hefty gulp.

“Let me help you clean that,” Mark marches over to your still frozen yet shaking self.

“It’s fine.” you squeak as he kneels starting to pick the glass up with his bare hands.

“Like I’m going to have you hurt yourself…” Mark mumbles while picking the large shards.

Anger began to resurface, along with pain and hurt, “It’s fine, you already did.”

Pushing past him, you run to the bathroom to finally get some air that your lungs didn’t seem to be taking in. Sliding down the door you let the tears fall.

It’s him. It’s him. It’s him.

—

"So, Mark, how do you know y/n?” Seungcheol asked, taking a sip of his beer in the living room. He sat adjacent to Mark, your friends scattered across the room, eyeing the scene in front of them carefully.

Mark forced a smile, hiding the twinge of discomfort. "We've known each other for a few years. We’re friends. Met in grade school. We were… best friends.”

Seungcheol nodded, genuinely interested in getting to know the famous man better. "That's cool. She is a great person. What made you two so close?”

The room took in a quick gasp, Seungcheol too oblivious to notice.

Mark hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing his words. "We just crossed paths naturally, you know? Izaiah and I were friends, played basketball together, and she would always be there. She was always there.”

Seungcheol smiled, oblivious to any underlying tension from Mark’s response. “That’s crazy, dude.”

Mark nods.

“She like, never mentioned you. I always just thought it was her and Kathy as the 4lyfers.”

Mark's eyes flickered, masking the unease he felt. "Yeah, we've always been on good terms. It’s just you know… the new life as an idol and all…”

Mixed knowing looks were exchanged around the room as everybody tried to not scoff at his words.

Seungcheol had no problem talking about himself. He chatted about work, hobbies, and shared interests. Seungcheol's excitement grew, not only did he achieve another level with you today by meeting the rest of your friends, but he also met your longest best friend. He had been contemplating asking you to be his girlfriend, and he couldn't help but share his thoughts with Mark.

"You know, Mark, everyone, I've been thinking about something. Christmas is just around the corner, and I'm planning to ask y/n if she'd like to be my girlfriend. I enjoy spending time with her, and I feel like it's the right time to take things to the next level," Seungcheol confessed, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Everyone oohed and ahhed at his confession, but everyone’s attention was on Mark.

Mark's forced smile faltered for a moment, his internal struggle evident. "That sounds like a great idea. I hope it works out for you two,” his words tasted like vinegar, his voice laced with jealousy and hurt.

Seungcheol grinned, oblivious to the conflicting emotions in Mark's mind. "Thanks, man. I appreciate your support. I'll make it special for her."

Little did Seungcheol know, the conversation had stirred a storm of resentment within Mark. As he contemplated the upcoming confession, Mark couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and regret, concealing the complicated history between you two. The holiday season seemed to hold more than just festive cheer; it carried the weight of untold secrets and unspoken feelings.

–

You couldn’t wait in this bathroom forever. You knew that. 

But why the fuck was he here?

He was supposed to be gone at least for three years. At least.

You were still trying to figure everything out with Seungcheol. And how dare he just claim you like that in front of everybody? You weren’t even ready to be in a relationship yet… right?

But why not? Why couldn’t you be?

You took more deep breaths while staring intently in the mirror trying to level yourself. 

You’re fine. You’ve been fine for a long time. He’s old news, and truthfully you’re probably even older news to him. 

Patting under your eyes and straightening out your clothes, you said some affirmations before tugging on the door handle. 

I’m fine. It’s all good.

“There she is!” Kathy shouted while rising to her feet, and rushing over to you, “How are you doing?” she whispered while pulling you softly into a hug.

“You fucking knew didn’t you?” you sneered back with a fake smile.

“So sorry! But no way to get over it completely without ripping the bandaid off completely!” she pouts, “Plus…” she wiggled her eyebrows, “What is the best way to show your ex that you’re doing great? How about a hot new boyfriend?”

You sigh as you mull over her words… maybe Seungcheol would be a great way to rub it into Mark’s face.

“Sorry, y’all!” you present to everyone while making your way to Mark, “Just couldn’t believe my bestie boo was back after all this time!” you shove him hard as you pull him into a threatening hug, “What a Christmas miracle huh?”

“Haha…” Mark chuckled with a confused tone while returning your tight embrace taking in a deep breath of your scent, “Guess Santa came early!”

“Coal would have been just as fine…” you hum pulling away and walking towards Seungcheol and plopping right onto his awaiting lap.

“So Mark,” you start in a sickly sweet voice, “How’s Korea been treating you?”

“It’s good.” He flatly says while throwing daggers towards your happy frame sitting on a more than glee Seungcheol.

“Hmm… And being famous, how’s that?” you uninterestingly reply while playing with Seungcheol’s hair.

“It’s great. But I don’t love having to hide just to go to the store and get some snacks.”

A few laughs ricocheted off the walls from your friends.

“But you’re used to that right?” you turn to him, “Ya know, hiding?”

“Something like that,” he whispered through tight lips. 

“How about being a big-time idol? What’s it like reaching your big dreams?” you make a show of jazz hands emphasizing your sarcasm.

“Not my dreams, not yet,” he sighs his eyes becoming sad.

“Always wanting more, right? Never could be satiated here right?” you felt your anger starting to bubble while you eyed down Mark.

“Woah, y/n, calm down a bit yeah? Mark has probably been through a lot to get where he is now. You gotta respect that!” Seungcheol eased into your ear trying to deescalate the palpable uneasiness from you.

“Oh no, yeah Mark has done a lot!” Izaiah chimes in cutting the tension, “Now enough catching up! Welcome back, Mark! Now let’s play some music, karaoke maybe? And let’s get this Christmas party started!”

Everyone seemed to snap out of the drama scene that was happening in front of them before finally cheering along and dispersing toward different parts of the room.

–

“Y/n,” Seuncheol cleared his throat from behind you during a game of cup pong, “I think Mark might have like a thing for you or something…” 

You turned to him with frantic eyes, “No! No! No, he wouldn’t. That’s dumb. You’re dumb. He’s dumb. Why would you say something so dumb?” you quickly spew.

“I don’t know… He keeps staring at you like he wants to eat you or something…” he whispers into your ear pulling you closer, his hands wandering down your backside before landing on your rear, “I mean I don’t blame him, you are very attractive and the best girl I’ve been around in a long time, but he probably has millions of girls begging at his feet. He’s got to leave you alone.”

Mark stood at the other end of the table watching the interaction, the cup he was forced to chug about to succumb to his tight grip. 

“Yeah, millions…” you whisper before aiming at one of his cups and it ultimately missing.

“You know I’ve been thinking about something, something about us…” Seungcheol says as he reracks the cups, “I was thinking about locking us down before Christmas time, how does that sound?”

Seungcheol’s words felt uncomfortable as they sat in your heart. You didn’t like having this conversation with Mark just a yard or so away. It didn’t feel genuine. It felt like a petty attempt to ward Mark away from you. A trophy to hang off his shoulder. 

“What a weird thing to bring up now, hm?” you dismiss him before taking aim once again.

“Come on! We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now! I’m into you, and you are definitely into me, what’s holding you back now?”

His words deemed to be a bit too loud as Mark interrupted Seungcheol’s confession by hitting him right on the forehead with the ball.

“Whoops! Sorry dude.” Mark muses disengenuinesly. 

“Watch it bro,” Seungcheol mutters tossing the ball back, “If I didn’t know any better I would have thought it was on purpose…” 

“Just… get your head in the game,” you whisper to Seungcheol as you take the shot that Izaiah seemed to sink in the meantime. 

Seungcheol shook his head. Shortly after, you two admitted defeat as Mark sunk the last cup on your side.

The drinks seemed too keep flowing down your throat, each drink blurring the feelings of Mark and Seungcheol. You just needed to make it through the night, after that you can deal with the mess. 

As the night progresses, you start to realize that maybe you have had  indulged in one too many drinks. Your laughter became louder, your movements became slower. Seungcheol starts to notice the change in your behavior, concern etching his features.

“Hey, you okay? Maybe you should slow down on the drinks a bit yeah?” He says while steadying your rocking frame.

“I’m fine, Seungcheol! It’s Christmas, the end of the semester, let’s enjoy!” 

“Alright little angel, your wish is my command!” He chuckles before grabbing your hand and making his way towards the minibar.

The alcohol, however, takes its toll, and your antics became increasingly unpredictable. Everything seemed to happen so fast, you almost didn’t realize what was happening. Seungcheol accidentally bumps into someone while trying to guide you through the room. The person, annoyed, confronts Seungcheol.

“Watch where you’re going bro!” Yelled Mark as he stands up quickly and starts wiping at his now stained sweater.

“It was an accident okay, calm down big shot.” Seungcheol annoying says while pulling you forward.

“Didn’t seem like an accident,” Mark retorts while pushing Seungcheol.

“What the hell is your problem dude?” Seungcheol says while letting go of your hand to size him up.

“Absolutely nothing.” Mark seethes while getting closer. His eyes shift to your spinning inebriated frame.

“Let me just give my girl a drink Mark.”

“I think she’s actually ready to go, come on y/n” Mark replies while grabbing you before you fell to the floor.

“Dude, what the hell? Get your hands off of her, she’s fine. Izaiah, pour me two more shots! One for me and one for my graduate!” Seungcheol hollers while trying to pull your other arm.

“Woah I’m on a cruise!” You drunkenly sigh as they pull you both ways.

“Yo! Let go of her, she’s going to yak!” Mark shouts before just lifting you up to run you outside.

“I’m gonna yak!” You shout as Mark’s running had you bouncing up and down.

Mark made it just in time to Izaiah’s front yard before you started throwing your guts up.

“My-“

“Don’t worry I got your hair,” Mark coos as he gathers up your hair into a ponytail.

“You always know what to do Markie,” you sigh as you fell onto your side, hands massaging your stomach.

Seungcheol rushes outside with a water bottle in hand, knees falling to the ground to hold your head up.

“How did you know she was going to throw up?” Seungcheol asks quietly while feeding you the water slowly, “Did you two drink a lot before you left?”

“She says she’s on a cruise then she’ll throw up right after,” Mark smiles then joins you two on the floor, “Never surprised me.”

“Mark just tell me straight up.” Seungcheol clears his throat, “do you want my girl?”

“I’m not your girllll…” you slur with saliva dripping down your chin, “Stop calling me that!” You hiccup before starting to drift off into sleep.

Seungcheol sighs, “Mark, if you two are best friends, why did she never mention you? Why did she all of a sudden start acting weird when you showed up today? What is everyone not telling me? So tell me, are you in love with y/n?”

Mark finally took his eyes off of you to meet Seungcheol’s accusation, “Yes I love her. I never stopped.”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue, “I knew it, just from the way you’ve been staring at her! Look bro, just so we’re clear-“

Mark cuts him off, “No, just so we’re clear, she’s mine. She always has been. It was a mistake to leave her a year ago. But I’m back, and no matter how hard you try to come and take her from me, she’ll always know that I’m the one for her.”

“I won’t let you take y/n away from me. Now go back to Korea and keep singing your little songs. She’s moved on from you.”

Everything was still as the two stared each other down. Despite your in and out consciousness. You heard every word. He still loves you. After all this time, you had to admit you still loved him too. But he left, and soon he’ll leave again. You have to move on.

“What’s her favorite song?” Mark whispered.

“Sunday Morning, easy.” Seungcheol shrugs

Correct.

“What’s her favorite color?” 

“Pastel blue.”

Correct.

“Why did she want to become an English major?”

“Because she loves to write.”

“Sure, but why does she love to write?”

“I don’t know man, she just likes to write, she’s always writing.”

“She likes to write because,” Mark sighs while staring at the sky, “she has all these thoughts in her head and she needs to let them out on paper for her to think straight. She writes because she thinks if she talks, no one will remember, and her words will outlive her. She writes not because she likes it, but because she needs to. It’s her dream to have others listen to her and feel something.”

You tried to stifle the tears in your eyes, so neither of them would notice you were awake. Mark was right. He always was, he understood you in ways that you never had to convey, he just knew. 

“You’ve known her since you were kids, of course you would know that. I’ve known her for a couple months, I’m sure in time she would have told me.” Seungcheol scoffs.

“She never told me,” Mark whispers while sparring one last glance at you then brushing off his jeans, “Make sure she gets home safe, Seungcheol. She’ll want kimchi fried rice, an iced coffee, and a cut persimmon with the skin off in the morning. Take care of her for as long as she’ll let you.”

Mark leaves as Seungcheol lifts your tired frame, your eyes unable to stop the tears coming out any longer until you fell asleep on the car ride home.

—

December 9, 2023

“What do you want for Christmas?” Seungcheol asks as you two lay on the sofa at your apartment watching some cheesy Hallmark movie. You haven’t been able to move all day. Somehow the lingering feeling of a hangover lasting a week, keeping you rooted to your couch huddled in blankets.

“Ah, nothing really,” you sigh huffing as the main female protagonist kisses the lead male, “not really feeling the Christmas spirit this year.”

“What are you actually going on about?” Seungcheol laughs, “you put your Christmas tree up on November 1st. You baked snowman cookies and set up a hot cocoa bar? That is the penultimate Christmas experience!” 

You blew at your bangs and rolled your eyes before turning the TV off. 

“Christmas just presents unrealistic expectations and and gets people’s hopes up for nothing. So overrated.”

Seungcheol sighs then begin pacing the room, “I think you need to get out of the house. I know you got sick after the party, and although you can be quite the messy yet funny drunk, I have cleared you well enough to leave the apartment!”

Hungover is now an understatement. The mention of the Christmas party glazes over your eyes and your throat feels tight. 

“I miss you, y/n.”

I miss Mark.

Hold on. What the fuck are you saying? No you don’t. 

“Let’s go shopping!” Seuncheol yells while heading into your closet to find you an outfit, “head to the shower, respectfully babe, you lowkey stink.”

There’s no point in fighting him. Maybe you need some fresh air.

The mall was packed. It was buzzing with Christmas cheer, lights twinkling in every window, the smell of cinnamon and pine wafting through the air. You pull your coat tighter around her, trying to shake off the heaviness in her chest. It should’ve been the perfect day to soak in the holiday spirit, especially with Seungcheol by her side. He was grinning ear to ear, pointing out everything from festive scarves to ridiculous holiday mugs, clearly enjoying himself.

"You think you could pull off this reindeer sweater?" he teased, holding up a bright red knit with a goofy-looking reindeer plastered across it.

Y/N chuckled softly, her heart not quite in it. "You’d look way better in it," she replied, nudging him gently.

Seungcheol laughed, oblivious to the sadness clouding her thoughts. Every corner of the mall felt like a reminder of Mark. This was where they used to spend hours just loitering until they were forced to leave by security. You remembered being young and dumb teens trying different mismatched outfits and forcing each other to wear them around the rest of the day. The bright green sign of Yogurt Mountain reminding you of Mark not being able to turn off the machine ending in the frozen yogurt spilling all on the floor. The memories felt like ages ago, so nostalgic but painful. It had been a year since you two broke up, but the memories still lingered, tugging at you as you tried to shake them off.

Seungcheol’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. "Hey, let’s check out this store! I think I found the perfect gift for you," he said with excitement, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward a small boutique.

You forced a smile, wanting to be present, wanting to enjoy this moment with him. But your gaze always seemed to drift, catching a glimpse of the jewelry shop across the way. As luck would have it…

Mark.

He was there, casually browsing a display of bracelets and rings, completely unaware of your presence. His frame was unassuming, all dressed in black. His face was hidden beneath a baseball cap, the perfect disguise for an idol unwanting to be seen and regain even a fraction of normalcy. But you would recognize him anywhere. You froze, unable to pull your eyes away.

Seungcheol, still focused on the display in front of him, started talking about a delicate silver necklace he thought would look good on you, but you weren't listening. You watched as a few people started to notice Mark. Then, in an instant, everything changed. Paparazzi flooded the scene, cameras flashing, voices yelling his name.

Mark’s expression shifted from calm to panicked. Y/N could see the tension in his shoulders as the crowd pressed closer. He backed away, his hands shaking as he tried to escape the chaos. The noise seemed to blur, and all you could think was how this was the side of his life he probably hated most—the relentless pressure, the invasion of privacy.

Mark’s breaths became shallow, his eyes wide as he struggled to keep it together, and before you realized what you was doing, you had started toward him, concern overtaking you.

But Seungcheol called your name softly, pulling you back to reality. "Y/N? Are you okay? You seemed distracted." He looked at you, concern written on his face, and for a second, you considered telling him everything—about Mark, about how hard it was to shake the past.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

You glanced back toward the jewelry shop, but Mark was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. The moment passed, and you turned back to Seungcheol, offering him a soft smile.

"I’m fine," you said, trying to mean it. "Let’s keep looking."

–

Mark was not fine.

“Mark! What’s it like being home?”

“Mark! Who are you shopping for? Someone special?”

“Mark! Care to comment on rumors of you and fellow idol Miyeon dating?”

“Mark! Is it true you will be the new leader of the next subunit of NCT?”

Mark really though he could just keep his head down as he walked through the mall. 

“All you need is a hat to cover your face, maybe a face mask, and you’ll be fine!” He can hear his older member, Johnny in his ears. Obviously, the terrible advice from over the phone proved to be very wrong.

It was supposed to be a quick trip—get a few Christmas gifts, maybe grab something to eat, and get out before anyone recognized him. But, of course, that was too much to ask.

It started with a couple of fans who spotted him near the jewelry store. A few whispers, a camera phone raised, and within seconds, it spiraled. The murmurs grew louder, and the crowd thickened, flashing cameras following every step.

"Mark! Over here!" someone yelled, their voice cutting through the noise.

His heart raced as the mob of paparazzi and fans surged around him, closing in too quickly. They were everywhere—voices overlapping, questions hurled at him, hands reaching out. The flashing lights blinded him, the noise overwhelming as they shouted his name, desperate for a reaction.

He tried to move away, but there was no escape. His breaths came faster, shallow and uneven, his chest tightening painfully. The world spun, and his pulse thudded in his ears, drowning out the chaos for a brief moment.

He can’t breathe.

Mark’s hands trembled as he pushed through the crowd, his vision narrowing, everything becoming a blur of faces and flashes. He needed to get out. He needed air. But every step he took, the crowd pressed in closer, suffocating him.

His legs moved on autopilot, driven by the single thought of escape. That’s when he saw it—the bright, colorful sign of a Build-A-Bear store up ahead. Without thinking, he bolted toward it, slipping through the doors and collapsing against the wall just inside, the noise of the crowd finally muffled by the glass.

The smell of soft fabrics and the sound of cheery music greeted him, a stark contrast to the madness outside. His breathing was ragged, his hands still shaking as he pressed them against his knees, trying to calm the rising panic.

One of the employees, a young girl with a Santa hat on, looked up from the counter, startled. Her eyes widened when she realized who he was, but instead of rushing over, she stayed where she was, giving him space.

Mark closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his own heartbeat, willing it to slow down. He took a deep breath, then another, the plush toys around him oddly soothing. The calm atmosphere of the shop felt like a small bubble of peace, a stark difference to the chaos outside.

"Hey," a soft voice called from nearby. He opened his eyes to see the employee standing a few feet away, holding a small teddy bear. "I thought you might want something to hold," she said gently, offering it to him with a kind smile.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking the bear, the soft fur comforting beneath his fingertips. His breathing steadied, the tension slowly easing from his body. He sank onto a nearby bench, clutching the bear to his chest like a lifeline.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, still catching his breath.

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Take your time," she said before quietly retreating back to the counter, leaving him in peace.

For a few minutes, Mark just sat there, cradling the bear and letting the panic subside. Outside the store, he could see the paparazzi through the glass, still waiting, still searching for him. But for now, inside the Build-A-Bear, he was safe, wrapped in a strange, quiet comfort that he desperately needed.

After some time, Mark was finally able to stand. With wobbly knees he lifted his eyes, his sweaty palms finally loosening his grip on the small bear. Taking in his surroundings, he finally realized how pathetic he felt. How alone he felt. Most of the crowd has disappeared by that point, probably escorted out by security due to the safety concerns. 

“I’m sorry for the startle,” he finally spoke to the girl at the register.

“No need to apologize,” she smiled, “it can’t be easy living like this huh?” she softly says. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

Mark felt like he needed to pace so he roamed the plush store, feeling comforted by the empty skins of the various options. In a weird way, he related to this sad, sad, shell of a bunny. 

He held up it’s limp body, it’s smile sewn on, never to be changed. But it was empty. 

“This is the life I chose, this is the life I will love,” he whispers holding the sagging brown bunny close.

“Do you wanna stuff it?” The girl from the register asks from behind, “they’re kind of weird when they are all sitting there sad and limp like that, but I swear they come out very cute. Great presents too!”

Mark contemplated for a moment before agreeing. 

“I’ll lead you through it okay? It’s kind of weird but I am obligated to do the heart ceremony with you,” she giggles. 

“Rub your heart in your hands for warmth.” 

Mark closes his eyes and rubs his hands imaging warmth. The last time he felt true warmth was an embrace from you.

“Pat your heart, for your friends heart beat forever,”

Mark pats his chest while clearing his throat. Has his heart really kept beating since leaving you?

“Rub it on your head, for smart thoughts,”

Mark chuckles at the thought. His little scholar… he can imagine you with your hair up in a claw clip chewing at the tip of an apple pencil planning out your paper… his little graduate.

Fuck. 

His graduate. 

You graduate next week.

“I see that you have someone in mind…” the girl laughs while she picks up the bunny, “if you’re looking for a sign, I’ll say it. Yes, you should give it to her.”

Mark perks up, “do you have any graduate outfits for the bunny?”

She laughs while taking the bunny out of his hands prepping to stuff it with fluff, “slow down there mr. romantic, we will dec out this bunny in no time.”

Mark walked out 30 minutes later with two boxes and a new pep in his step.

It’s time to get his girl back.

---

LET'S GO MARK!!! orrrr are you team seungcheol???

have a happy new year everyone <3

xoxo

foreva mark

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 04 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing

Previous Poll:

~~~

“What did you have in mind?”

“Orchard’s a bit of a wreck this time of year,” AJ says, glancing out the window at the apple trees lining the hills and hanging heavy with fruit. Not too far off, Big Mac’s standing on a ladder situated under a tree; she can see Apple Bloom yelling up at him from below, barrels full of apples at her feet. She says something with that adorable, sometimes annoying little smug spark in her eye, and Big Mac shakes his head with a laugh before tossing an apple down to her. She lunges for it with her hands clasped behind her back, letting it smack her right in the face as she tries to grab it with the few front teeth she hasn’t lost to the tooth fairy yet.

Yeah. Definitely somewhere else. AJ loves her family more than anything, but—Rarity deserves to go somewhere nice. Across the house and through the open front door, she can hear Granny belting out an old song about pigs in mud—

“I’m thinkin’ we go out. You know the restaurant in town? Haven’t been in a while, and I heard there’s a new menu. How’s Saturday?”

“That sounds simply divine, darling, and I would love to…but I can’t commit to this weekend,” Rarity says regretfully, and AJ nearly drops her phone, “I’m in Manehattan the rest of the week for my new line. It is critical that I’m here to make the finishing touches. Fancy Pants is personally endorsing the reveal and there cannot be a single mishap, not one.”

“Oh—“

“Please don’t think I’m avoiding you, darling. Perhaps we can schedule something for the same time next week?”

“No!” AJ begins rather forcefully, and she clears her throat so she won’t say something else before thinking, “I meant…no big deal. How about I come to you instead? I’m sure I can find somewhere good for you—for…us.” 

There’s a short pause before Rarity responds. 

“Applejack, are you sure, darling? Of course I’d love to have you here…but only if it wouldn’t be too much for you. If you aren’t busy with your duties on the farm, as well. I know that the big city isn’t exactly your cup of…cider.”

“Nothin’s too much for me when it comes to you, sugar.” 

AJ’s heart flutters when she hears the soft, breathy laughter of her crush over the phone.

“If you insist,” Rarity says, the smile evident in her voice, “There are a few places I could call. I’m friends with practically everyone here, you know.” 

AJ shakes her head. “You just rest up and let me do the work. I’ll get everything together.” 

This isn’t up for debate—she’s dead set on being a gentlewoman. If this is going to be a real date then she’ll make sure it’s a damn good one. Which includes making sure that Rarity can just enjoy the evening and not have to worry about anything.

Rarity lets out a sweet laugh, which pitches high at the end, a little too strained. 

“Oh, no, there will be no resting for me. After I finish this job, I need to come up with something spectacular to wear for our date. Now that we’re going out on the town, I need something divine—something fabulous…” she trails off before continuing, “But I’ll be ready. Just let me know. Oh! When will you arrive, dear? I’m not sure I can make it to the train station to greet you…I’ll be so busy…but you know where the boutique is.”

“I’ll find you. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Not to worry, darling. I doubt I could ever work nearly as hard as you do.”

AJ rubs the back of her neck, her face hot. “Psshaw, I’m not sure about that…”

The toe of her boot scuffs the wooden floor and she stares down at it, grinning like an idiot in the silence.

“Well…shall I see you Saturday, then?” Rarity posits. 

“Yeah, Saturday.”

“Alright, darling, I’ll see you then,” Rarity says softly.

“Bye Rarity.” She sounds almost shy when she says her name.

There’s a click and then the call is over. AJ swears her heart skips a beat as she stares down at her phone. This is actually happening.

It still feels like a dream, and she hopes to never wake up.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She could run a marathon with all the energy tingling up her spine.

But—

It already looks like she’s been running at full speed—she’s drenched in sweat. Well…no surprise there.

“Ugh…I should shower,” she murmurs upon noticing the stains under her arms.

~~~~

AJ thought she’d have trouble sleeping, but after finishing her chores with a spring in her step, she knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, however, anxiety crawled its way into her chest. 

She couldn’t stop daydreaming at breakfast, racking her brain for a restaurant in Manehattan. There were so many other things she had to do before that, too. 

AJ didn’t really consider what it’d mean to have a date in Manehattan—she was just so sold on the fact that their date couldn’t wait. 

She has some nice clothes in her closet - but do they fit a fancy restaurant in the big city? 

Does she even know how to behave so she doesn’t embarrass herself and Rarity during the date? Sure, she’s polite, but she’s not versed on the social mores of Mane—

Granny snapping her fingers and hollering her name pulled AJ from her thoughts, only to find all three family members staring at her curiously.

“Sorry, Granny…what was it you said?”

“Well, it’s been s’darn long since I asked ya, I can’t remember nuthin’ I said!” 

AJ didn’t tell anyone yet. For one, she wanted to pull it through on her own. But she also didn’t want anyone to gossip beforehand and cause her embarrassment. She got enough inquiring questions about her relationship status, especially from Applebloom.

After breakfast, she got to work on the chores around the farm.

Anyways, now that she could think again…

Would she need a present for Rarity? 

Was there anything else she needed to prepare?

What if none of the restaurants she’d thought of end up being a good fit for Rarity?

AJ’s mind spins and spins and now she lays in the shade of an apple tree, staring up at the sky.

Well, she’ll admit it—she’s lost and has no clue where to start.

Yeah, she’ll definitely need some help…

She could ask one of her friends. She’s close enough to any of them, especially Rainbow—but Rainbow can’t keep a secret to save her life, and she’d probably just tell her to “Be awesome, duh” and that Rarity likes AJ enough that she doesn’t need to be fancy. Which…is a great sentiment, but would it help in the long run? Mm…she’s not so sure. AJ feels like it wouldn’t stay a secret for long if she told any of her friends. Would she even mind? They’re all helpful in their own ways. 

Then again…she could also ask her family for support. She hopes they would keep news of her date a secret. Oof…some of those conversations might be a bit more embarrassing, now that she thinks about it...but Granny’s lived and loved, and Big Mac always gives sage advice. Applebloom is her biggest cheerleader when it comes to anything at all.

 

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark

[allzelemonz]

Annoying: John Marston X Male Reader

Fictober Prompt: Day 3, Hate Sex Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Hate sex, anal fingering, anal sex, prostate massage, dirty talk, teasing, mentions of John’s situation with Abigail and Jack, Reader is an asshole, pre-Blackwater, violence, punching Summary: You’ve been sent on a scouting excursion with John to find a good spot closer to Blackwater, John is annoying through the whole ride.

It has been two hours. Walking along a barren trail with your tired horse and listening to the endless and constant complaining of John Marston. The man is undoubtedly irritating, wholly annoying. But Dutch picked you for scouting, so you to try to tune out that stupid scratch in his voice and focus on looking for a new spot closer to Blackwater.

“I just don’t get what her deal is.” John continues.

You feel the distinct desire to bash your head against your saddle horn. Maybe that would end this insufferable ride. Why couldn’t Dutch have picked Javier or Charles or someone quiet? At least Micah talks about interesting things on occasion. Bill can crack a joke. None of them have this apparent need to vent whilst riding.

“She just doesn’t-”

“Marston.” You groan. “Shut up, for the love of life itself. Just be quiet for once.”

“Oh, are my problems annoying you?”

“Yes, jeez, just shut it.”

He huffs, looking away to pout like a child.

“No one wants to hear about you and Abigail, the whole camp already has to listen to you go on and on about how the kid isn’t yours. No one cares.”

“Fuck off.” He mutters.

“I wish I could.”

There is a blissful minute of silence before he opens his mouth again. “You think he’s mine?”

“Fuck, Marston.” You sigh. “I have no clue, just shut the hell up.”

“He ain’t.” He mumbles. “Can’t be.”

“You won’t have to worry about it if you keep talking, because I’ll shoot you.”

“Why’re you always so damn irritable?”

“Because you annoy me to no end, Marston.”

You pull on your reins to move towards a clearing that looks promising, only slightly visible from the narrow path between trees. Finally sliding off your horse, you stretch your legs a little and look over the spot.

“How do I annoy you exactly?”

You rub at your eyes, feeling the ache forming behind them from having to listen to his voice. “In every possible way you could ever imagine.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“I’m not the one bothering other people with my problems.”

“At least I find the time to bring money in instead of lounging around camp all damn day!”

That, now that, brings a twinge of much more than annoyance to buzz around in your head. Not only have you been bringing in consistent money since you joined, you just pulled a job with Mac and Davey that scored the camp funds upwards of eight-hundred dollars. So, naturally, you punch John in the face for suggesting otherwise.

“Shit.” He mutters, recoiling and tackling you to the ground.

You roll for a while, exchanging punches and losing your hats along the way until you find yourself atop John. You sit across his thin torso, your fist curled into his shirt as the other stands ready to lay another blow. But, John, he goes still, as if he’s afraid to move. For all the scrapping and talk, you know you’re not scary enough to make him freeze like this so you lower your raised fist and look over your shoulder. You half expect to see lawmen or O’Driscolls or something, but it’s just the forest and the horses grazing by the trees.

“What’s your problem, Marston?” You ask, shifting slightly on him.

Then you feel it, barely brushing against the back of your thigh as you move. John Marston is hard in his pants from being beaten up by a man that hates him. His face flushes and he claws at your arm, but you just push him down harder into the grass. Your mind races for a moment, thinking of the roads you could take. You hate the man quite a bit, but you’d be a fool to deny he’s attractive and something in the back of your mind is begging you to find out what that raspy voice sounds like when it’s full of want.

“We tell no one.” You mutter, giving John a threatening look.

John’s chest moves slow as he processes, then he nods quickly. You lean down and connect your lips, catching the taste of tobacco and the scruff of his stubble. John’s hands find your hips, urging you down to grind against you but you resist.

“You’re not in charge here, Marston.” You murmur against his lips. “You just lay still and let me use you, understand?”

His eyes dart around yours quickly as his face gets redder by the second. “Y-Yeah.”

You move down to unfasten his pants and as he kicks them off, you fish a tube of gun oil from your pocket. It has always been a suspicion of yours that John gets around more than he lets on, and it is all but confirmed by the way he stuffs his pants under his hips and spreads his legs.

“You some kind of whore on the side, Marston?” You ask, fixing yourself between his open legs. “That why you got on with Abigail, a shared profession?”

“Shut up.” He mutters.

He intends to say more but you cut him off easily by inserting your slicked fingers without warning. His back arches, pressing into the feeling as he chokes on a bit of air that turns into a whimper. You’re not going to give him the time to rest or adjust, he doesn’t deserve it after talking all day. So you crook your fingers, running them along until his hips jolt from the contact. Then you focus and focus hard, pressing into that nice sensitive spot inside of him until he can’t even speak to warn you. He releases across his stomach, his softening dick untouched.

His head lulls to the side as he catches his breath and you slip your fingers out. You move as fast as you can, not wanting to hear any of his protests about being sensitive. He’d whine about it, you know he would, so you grip his hips and press inside in the midst of his recovery. John chokes on air again, muttering as he covers his red face with his arm. Only one eye peaks out at you as you start your pace and you ignore it, focusing on the act rather than the who. If you don’t think about it being John, the image of your dick disappearing inside such a nice ass and the feeling of gripping such a slim waist make you groan to yourself. If it were any other man, you’d praise him for feeling so good.

John, however, does not have that control. “God, you’re… fuck you’re good.”

It’s the moan that gets you, raspy just like you imagined, and completely wanton. You double your effort because that sound was so good for something that came from John of all people. And, to your delight, it happens again. As you slam into him, your balls bouncing enough to truly earn the nickname, John begins to pant. Your eyes are drawn to his dick as he reaches for it and stops it from slapping against his stomach. His hand wraps around and pumps in time with you.

You lean down a bit, enough to speak over John’s lewd noises. “You better get yourself off before me, Marston. I’m not helping you otherwise.”

He groans, seemingly all too happy to be treated like nothing but something to fuck in the grass of the gang’s next camp spot. You watch his hand, your eyes flicking down to watch your own fucking on occasion. Both are such a sight. John cums again, spilling a little on his hand this time. The sound he makes, such a shaky and raspy guttural moan, hits the right things for you and sends you right over. You slow your thrusts, milking yourself before burying deep inside of him.

It takes a few minutes before your muscles respond and you can pull out to rest back on your knees. John still has a haze in his eyes, his arms splayed out as his chest heaves. You let yourself relish the sight, forgetting only for a moment that you hate him, then you pick up the tube of gun oil from the grass and pull on your pants. A one time thing, albeit a great one, with such an annoying man.

[bobabisch]

I think it is very interesting that the writers of RDR2 chose to have the Arthur become more involved with the storyline of the Native Americans at the time that they did.

I feel this for many reasons, but mainly because what Colonel Favours' destructive and insecure nature is doing to the native people directly mirrors what Dutch's own insecure and destructive nature is doing to the group. On the first mission Arthur does with Captain Monroe, the Captain tells him many things:

1) That Colonel Favours destructive/insecure/angry nature has corrupted his men, I quote, "There is a culture now in his [Colonel Favours] regiment, the rot has traveled down the trunk". The Captain is stating that the horrific ways the Colonel has been treating the native people has prompted his men to treat them the same. The rotting tree metaphor is easily applied to Arthur's current situation with Dutch and the group (at this specific time especially). After Molly's death the whole vibe of the camp becomes unstable and dreary; nearly everyone has been prone to anger, Arthur included. This attitude in the camp is not unlike the new personality Dutch has begun to show since he returned from Guarma. This corruption can also be seen particularly well in Micah--as he thrives in the chaos in the camp and in Arthur's disintegrating relationship with Dutch--and in Bill's newfound anger/resentment with seemingly everything and everyone.

2) Captain Monroe tells Arthur "He [Colonel Favours] didn't have a very good war so he's trying to start another one." This one seems pretty much obvious, but as Arthur states during a few missions prior to this one (mainly the one with Eagle Flies and the mission where Dutch kills Cornwall) the past few heists/jobs have not gone well. Arthur significantly understates this; rather the last few heists/jobs have gone horribly, terribly wrong. All of Dutch's previous heists/jobs have led to death: I.e. Mac, Jenny, Sean, Hosea, Lenny, and Molly. It's clear Dutch has been feeling lost and inadequate since Blackwater and his recent failures and the recent deaths have only put more pressure on those insecurities, and with Micah in his ear those insecurities have only become more prevalent and dangerous.

3) Captain Monroe also tells Arthur "I think he's taking some of these actions more to protect himself now. If he can incite more retaliation maybe he can prove a stronger defense." Like Colonel Favours has decided to wage his own war with the native people in an attempt to alleviate his insecurities, so has Dutch decided to "wage war" as well, using the conflict with the native people and the army so he may "make noise" (as Dutch calls it) to reassure himself that his insecurities have not become reality. The more "noise" Dutch makes easier it is to claim he is defending the groups honor. Dutch uses people a lot, he used Angelo Bronte, he used the Grays, he used the Braithwaites, but the difference between Dutch using them and Dutch using Eagle Flies and the native people--as well as the army--is that he no longer does it for the reason's that he was doing it beforehand. With the former groups of people, Dutch truly was using them to help the group, to protect those he views as family.

Moreover the former groups of people were not good people in any way shape or form meanwhile the Native Americans are entirely blameless in this situation. "We help those who need helping, feed those who need feeding, and kill those who need killing." It's something Dutch says to Arthur on the very mission they take with Eagle Flies which puts not only the native people in a more precarious position than they were already in, but also makes the situation Dutch's gang are in more dangerous. Dutch has stuck by this motto for what seems like his whole life, but now even it has lost its meaning. He no longer helps those who need helping as he refused to rescue John Marston from being hanged, and he no longer kills those who need killing as he unnecessarily murdered Cornwall and actively urges the native people and the army to kill each other. In this light it is undeniable that just as Colonel Favours is prosecuting the Native Americans to save his reputation, Dutch has taken all of these new measures to save his own reputation and to placate his troubled mind.

4) Captain Monroe's final statement about Colonel Favours hits the hardest however, "A failed man is often the most dangerous." Arthur has come to know this as true, as he watches Dutch slowly descend further into madness, finding new enemies in anyone who is not his "yes man" and actively seeking out his old enemies who have wronged him so horribly in the past, all at the risk of the family which he claims he is trying to protect by doing all of this.

I think it is so clever of the writers this situation with the Native Americans play out as all this is happening with Dutch. Although Arthur probably does not fully understand the parallels, I'm sure being directly involved in such a similar situation helps Arthur to realize at least on some subconscious level just how far gone Dutch truly is.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 3 : Lost home

Mac goes to FFM with feral Wukong. Some old feelings surges forward and Wukong is acting like a cub.

I think I'll be updating this two chapters everyday on Tumblr.

The grass was greener than what he remembered, soft strands dancing at the wind's whims, drenched by kind rays of light. He was standing in the sand, frozen still by overflowing emotions. Everything came back to him the second he landed in this place. Waves of memories crashing into him, drowning his tired mind. Standing on the shore was already painful, he didn't know if he could step on the grass. The line separating white and green was more daunting than anything he saw, battling the heaven felt like nothing in the face of this feeling.

There was an ocean of tears hiding in his chest, all devoted to his lost home. Tears never cried, for fear of being weak, for fear of longing something that would never be his again. Those tears suffocated him, rumbling inside his bones, a storm of sorrow drowning him, until his heart felt nothing but sadness and longing.

Memories of a kinder time flashed behind his eyes. A time when he could run on soft soil until his lungs burnt, climb every tree simply because he wanted to, feel the wind dancing through his fur, pushing him to further heights. A youth away from any pain, where the only thing he had to plan for was dinner.

A simple existence, a life in peace.

A time when he was nothing more but a monkey with a best friend.

Macaque sighed, chasing away his thoughts. This wasn't the time for nostalgia, this would never be his home again, not when it was the land of his murderer. The warrior sat on the white sand, heart beating furiously against his skin, almost like it wanted to tear him apart and ran towards the grass. The kid left him hours ago, something about letting Sun Wukong wander in peace. He promised to come back tomorrow, fleeting words Macaque brushed aside, not wanting to believe anything for now.

The sage was at his side, gazing at the sand curiously, pawing the grains with childish wonder. Letting it glide around his claws and mess his already wrecked fur. The King looked at him with round eyes, tail thumping excitedly against the soft soil. Macaque rolled his eyes, appalled by such a childish gaze, and threw a handful of sand at the sage. Sun Wukong sneezed and furiously pawed his nose, perhaps trying to get the sand out of his face.

“Ha, that's funny.” Barked the ebony monkey, the sage huffed and turned around, more interested in common white sand than petty plays. Macaque liked it this way, he felt better when the King wasn't looking at him, when his burning gaze was turning elsewhere.

Sun Wukong dived in the sand, rolling around like an unruly cub, soiling his russet fur with white grains. He looked like he enjoyed his sand bath, and Macaque did nothing to stop it, even if he knew that by doing this the sage would get sand in his wounds, a painful situation to live through. But sometimes people had to learn what to do, and what not to do the hard way, didn't they ?

The sage ran in the sand, diving in dunes, and digging useless holes simply because he could. It was strange to see him be so free, and so childish, unbothered by titles and responsibilities. Macaque felt a sprout of anger flourish in his chest, how could the King be so carefree after what he did ? How could he forget it all and live in peace, as if he didn't doom him to a painful end ?

Macaque shook his head, chasing the anger away. He knew this ugly, overbearing rage was nothing but instinct, a way to protect himself when sorrow seized him. He blamed it all on Wukong because it was easier to live this way, to see himself in the mirror when light came. Rage was easier to process than sorrow, and Macaque never let himself be engulfed by sorrow, too proud but also too scared to crumble.

He wasn't here to fight, he wasn't here for blood, he was here to survive, and he shouldn't forget it.

Sun Wukong trotted towards the grass, he pawed at it a little, cautious, before rolling around in soft, jade-like strands. Macaque gulped, trying to smother the bitterness rising before it could overflow. It looked so easy to step on the other side, but it wasn't, not for him. Sun Wukong ran, giggling as he explored the other side, his silhouette fading away in the wildness.

“He doesn't really need me, seems better already.” Snorted Macaque.

Sun Wukong came back seconds after, cooing like a madmonkey. Frail, scared chirps, chants of “where”, “where”, “alone”, “lost”. He stumbled on the sand and ran towards the warrior at full speed, curling at his side once he reached him, golden tail firmly tied in black-furred hips.

“You know I'm not your mom, right ?” Grumbled the warrior, the sage softly cooed at him, a quiet rumble made to be reassuring, like the warrior was the lost cub in this particular scenario. Disgusting.

Macaque huffed and laid down, facing the sky as hours passed. He felt better, his body wasn't aching anymore, but there was still an underlying weakness preventing him from being as fast, as strong, as keen as before. The warrior looked at his nemesis, the golden fluff ball was still playing with sand, and wondered if he should try to steal his magic. Maybe not now, not until he was sure the other wouldn't attack him.

They spent the rest of the day there, peacefully resting. The sage rose at dusk. and dived in the water, perhaps he got curious about the waves. He immediately shrieked and scrambled back, backing away from the ice-cold water with a pitiful whine on his lips. Macaque couldn't help but snicker, he tried to keep himself from laughing, not wanting to expose so much of himself, but he couldn't restrain the tickles rising within his throat. He erupted in laughter. He calmed down when he caught a glimpse of the sage’s thumping tail. Why was this fool happy when he just dived in the sea like a brainless monkey?

“What are you looking at ?” Snorted Mavzzie, and the sage immediately turned away, cheeks a little flushed. Sun Wukong then tried to dive in the water again, and looked at him with a wild wagging tail, as if he expected something. Macaque raised an eyebrow, not understanding what the King was doing. Sun Wukong's tail dropped, he splashed himself, clearly shivering in disgust at the feeling, and turned towards the warrior with hopeful eyes. But then again, he didn't get what he was hoping for and grumbled a little. The sage crawled on the shore with a defeated face and curled up beside the warrior, visibly annoyed. “You're weird.” Mumbled the ebony monkey.

They slept on the beach, under shimmering stars, the macaque curled on himself, and the sage pressed as close to the other as he could. They were woken up, the next morning, by the kid, which arrived quite loudly.

“Why are you both still on the beach ?” MK got off of his cloud and looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Sun Wukong immediately growled, tail lashing.

“Shut up, too early for growls.” Mumbled the macaque, he turned over and pawed at the sage to shut him up, when it didn't work, Macaque took his nemesis and smothered him in his chest to cease his annoying growls.

Sun Wukong squeaked, face slightly red, and dived happily in his chest, tail lashing excitedly. When he woke up, for the second time this morning, Macaque roughly pushed the sage away, face frowning in disgust.

“Not a word about this.” Warned the warrior as he looked over the cackling kid, ignoring the whining sage at his side. “Why are you here ?”

“I told you I would come by today. But why are you both still on the beach ?”

“We're… taking it slow. Don't wanna overwhelm him, you know.”

“Hm, yeah, it makes sense. Why is he covered in sand though ?”

“He rolled around.”

“And you didn't stop him ? You know he shouldn't move around with his wounds.”

“I didn't want to stop him, he looked like he enjoyed it.”

“But still…”

“Look, I know you're worried, kiddo.” Sighed the macaque. “But the guy is seven times immortal, he's not gonna die.” To prove his point, Macaque threw another handful of sand at the sage. “You see ? He's fine.” Sun Wukong sneezed and glared at the macaque, throwing his own handful of sand at him. “How dare you.” Hissed the warrior, the sage giggled at that.

“You two seem to get along”. Laughed MK.

“Did you not see the part where he threw sand at me ?”

“He's playing. He likes you.” Macaque ignored how those words pierced his heart, and turned away, grumbling about how the kid was blind, and how he didn't get along with his nemesis.

The kid sat a few meters away, not daring to get closer, and peeked at them from time to time, fiddling with his shirt a little, perhaps to ease his nerves. Being so close to your mentor but not being recognized sounded painful, and Macaque cursed himself for feeling so empathic. But what could he even do ? It's not like he had power over the sage fear.

“You like Sun Wukong, right ?” This was very awkward, and he belittled himself for that. Why did he even try ? It's not like he was particularly close to the kid.

“Huh, yeah… I mean it's Monkey King.” Awkwardly chuckled the kid. The way he said it, like it was obvious to like the Monkey King, was irritating, but Macaque, as petty as he was, didn't want to burn the kid with his own bitterness.

“Hm, looks kid, I'm not good at that, but if I know something about Wukong, it is that he doesn't mingle with people he doesn't like. What I'm trying to say is, hm, I'm sure he likes you too. He'll come back for you, or something, surely.” He didn't fully believe that, after all, the King didn't come back for him. But he knew, the second he saw the kid's face lightened up, that what he said was enough.

“Thanks, Macaque. I, hm, needed to hear that.”

“No problem.”

“And… also, hm, thanks for helping us with the LBD fight.”

“I just did whatever I could to survive, kid. She needed to be stopped.”

“But you could have fled, and you didn't.” Protested the kid with an unwavering gaze, how could he trust his own words so much was beyond Macaque.

“For selfish reasons.” Adeed the warrior, but the kid brushed aside his words with an easy laugh, as if he didn't quite believe Macaque's selfishness, which, as rude as it was, did bring the shadow of a smile upon the warrior's face.

Macaque didn't hate MK, quite the contrary, which was the core of his problem. He wasn't supposed to like his nemesis's mentee, he wasn't supposed to see him beyond his purpose : a tool to hurt Wukong. But no matter how much he tried to harden his heart, to pose as the cruel shadow lusting for blood, and no matter how much of a great pretender he was, Macaque couldn't kill what he truly was, and he wasn't cruel, sadly. It would have been easier if he was, it would have lessened the guilt of hurting a soul as innocent as MK, perhaps, he could have even enjoyed it, seeing beauty in shattering trust. But he wasn't cruel, and he had to live with guilt, and the burn of his own actions.

Sometimes, when the boy looked at him with unwavering eyes, Macaque could taste an apology on the tip of his lips. He thought of it, of forgiveness, but every time he indulged those thoughts, he felt acid flowing through his veins. Forgiveness was for the ones that regretted, the ones that felt the need to change who they were and to walk upon a better path. Macaque, as much as gilt filled him, didn't regret what he did. Because he did it to survive, and he would do it again if he had to. Because he did it to quell the anger (the sorrow) eating his soul. Even if the boy didn't deserve to be hurt because of the blood on his mentor's hands, even if doing it was petty and cruel, Macaque did it. He did it and he wouldn't excuse it. His life was full of sad backstories that could explain every twisted step he took, you could see pain in the way he shattered the trust of a bruised kid, you could see despair in his grip upon a girl throat as she was burned by a world-ending flame, you could see, dare he says, love in his need to marks his lost King, for him to be as bruised as he felt. But no matter what you saw, no matter what you thought, what remained was what he did. And he wasn't going to shy away from it, to hide behind tears and cries of “being broken”.

Macaque wasn't cruel, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of cruelty.

There were no excuses. No reasons. He hurts him, fully aware of what he was doing, never once regretting it, and for that he wasn't going to fool him with a “sorry” only truly meant to lessen his guilt. Because Macaque knew, when he gazed upon the kid's face, that if he dared to utter any semblance of apology, the kid would forgive him in a heartbeat.

And Macaque didn't want to be forgiven, as much as he didn't want MK to forgive so easily the one responsible for some of the wounds covering his heart. Mayhaps, he should talk with the kid about boundaries and self-respect, but how can he even explain things he didn't even fully understand ?

MK was a star passing through the sky, and he was only one of the shadows that tried to latch on it, he wasn't in any place to lecture the kid.

“Hey, do you think you could… warn the troops about Wukong situation…” Asked the warrior, he didn't know how the sage would react to the monkeys, and if there was one thing he wanted to avoid at all costs, that was the terror in their faces if the King ever decided to draw their blood. “Warn them to stay far away”

“Oh…yes, I… I can do that.” Replied the kid, he rose and threw a doubtful eye at him, and admittedly the sage curled at his side. Macaque shook him off with an easy smile, and MK's face lightened up slightly.”

You have a good kid.” Mumbled the warrior once he saw the boy disappear behind the forest towering trees. He turned towards the sage, and Sun Wukong straightened up, perhaps sensing his seriousness. “Don't mess it up.” He didn't know if the King understood him, but he felt satisfied by the lingering gaze the sage threw towards the forest.

Macaque rose after a bit, stretching slightly, popping his sleeping bones. Hunger gnacked at him but he didn't want to step on the grass, not now at least. The sage perked up when he heard the rumbling of his stomach, ears erect, looking at him with round eyes. Sun Wukong looked towards the grass, then towards him, going back and forth between the two places.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Huffed the warrior, and that was enough to push the King. Macaque wondered if Sun Wukong could at least partially understand his words, the sage looked like he had some semblance of comprehension, at least enough to understand his intent. Sun Wukong rose and trotted towards the grass, he disappeared behind the trees, cooing now and then, to check on the warrior. As humiliating as it was, and as much as he didn't want to, Macaque replied with his own set of coos. He didn't know how the King would react if he wasn't sure of his presence, and he didn't want to find out. He just hoped the kid couldn't hear him, because this was quite embarrassing.

Sun Wukong returned after a few minutes, hands full of peaches, and Macaque wasn't even surprised, of course this fool brought peaches. He handed some to the warrior, cooing reassuringly, as if Macaque was a small, scared animal that needed help. The ebony monkey scoffed and begrudgingly took the food, firmly ignoring the sage thumping tail. He didn't need help, he could have found his own food, he wasn't that useless. And, least of all, he didn't need Sun Wukong's help.

Even if Macaque didn't show it much, he had a pride of his own. Of course, he wasn't the kind to prioritize his pride over his hide, like some idiots he wouldn't name because the mere thoughts of their faces was irritating. Macaque had common sense, and enough shame to not embarrass himself with petty fights. However, he did have pride, a warrior's pride.

He didn't need anyone, and he wasn't a coward. Macaque was the kind to wait, to retreat when things went dire, and come back keener, stronger, crueler. Tactical retreat wasn't the same as flee, even if some cheap chicken wing with legs didn't share the same thought.

The sage ate without any grace, juice running on his chin and tainting his sun-like fur, sometimes groaning in joy, fangs tearing the soft skin with glee. He ate like a monkey, and while that shouldn't be surprising considering Wukong was a monkey and never truly cared for manners (at least if he was still like what Macaque remembered) it was still uncanny to see him act so beastly. Sun Wukong was unruly and chaotic, idiotic even, free from everything, but he still walked like a man, talked like a man, thought like a man. This… monkeyish Sun Wukong was unfamiliar. Perhaps the sage had been like that at his birth, Macaque wasn't there at the time so he couldn't testify. But even then, it was weird to see sides of a man he thought he knew everything about.

Because it raised the question, did he truly know everything about Sun Wukong ? He knew a lot, certainly, but there were bound to be things hidden from him, sides he never got the chance to discover. Sun Wukong wasn't a good lier, at least that's what Macaque always thought. But what was even the point to ponder that now. It is not like he wanted to discover more sides of the great sage, he was here for survival, nothing else.

Sun Wukong suddenly whined, pulling the warrior out of his thoughts, and scratched his back with narrowed eyes (perhaps narrowed “eye”was better, considering the sage's left eye was still messed up). Macaque snorted at his misery, and he received a handful of sand for that, what a brat.

“You got what you deserve. You shouldn't have rolled around, dry sand and fur doesn't mix.” Snickered the macaque with crossed arms, the sage flopped at his feet, on his back, and looked at him intently.”What ?” The King chirped a small coo, something meaning “help”. “And what do you want me to do ? I can't magically make the sand stuck in your fur disappear.” Sun Wukong whined and pawed at his leg, perhaps trying to sweet-talk him. “I am not grooming you, Sun Wukong.” Retorted the warrior, but the golden fluff ball didn't stop, only whining louder. #Stop acting like that, you're not a kid, that's embarrassing. Get up.” The sage pawed harder, eyes imploring. “Oh my god, don't you have any shame !? Stop looking at me like that, you look ridiculous” The great sage, whined even louder, ear pinned back, paws pulling on his pants. “You know what, fine. You want to be clean, I got an idea.”

Macaque invoked a shadow portal with a flick of wrist and drenched the King, snickering when he caught a glimpse of the sage's flabbergasted face ; he looked like a wet rat.

“Don't worry, it's not salt water.” Sun Wukong looked at the macaque with a pout, pure betrayal etched on his face. He crouched down, tail swaying mischievously in the air, and Macaque quickly recognized this stance. “Wait, no, don't.” The warrior fled before the sage could pounce on him, running away from the wet beast wanting to smother him. “I helped you ! Don't approach me, you wet rat !” Screeched the warrior as he evaded the sage's attack.

Sun Wukong finally pinned the warrior down, smothering him in wet fur, and pawing at his face a little while giggling like a five year old. Macaque tensed when he felt the sage towering over him, but did his damn best to not attack him, even if his heart was beating fast, and his claws were picking at his palms. He knew Sun Wukong wasn't looking for blood, but it was still unselting to have him so close. He pushed the sage away after a bit, glaring at the snickering golden menace.

“Pff..” Macaque immediately looked towards the forest, and groaned when he caught sight of a giggling MK, phone in hand.

“Did you record this ?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Answered the boy with a very annoying smirk.

“This is not what you think it is.” Grumbled the ebony monkey.

“Really ? Because it really looked like you two were playing.”

“We were not !”

Sun Wukong shook himself like the pitiful dog he was, throwing water everywhere, Macaque glared at him for daring to get him more wet.

“You could have done that away from me, don't you think ?” Grumbled the warrior, but Sun Wukong only tilted his head to the side, looking clueless. “Oh yeah, now you pull the “I understand nothing”card, I see what game you're playing, you jerk.”

MK bursted out laughing and the sage snickered, like the little devil he was.

Macaque was surrounded by jerks.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[maculategiraffe]

guys I think it's done. the house is a house again. the walls are painted daylily orange. and everyone got paid. now I just need a week in the time loop to sleep it all off

[semisolidmind]

(Twice as Bad AU) I know Reader would be depicted as support rather than a fighter who has to worry about two protective demon hubby(s) who would probably just steal most of her "kills." But imagine reader pinning down a lesser demon with a spear or a sharp pointed tree branch aimed just shy of it's neck, her foot pressed to its chest to hold them still, and a harsh glare on her face.... Then Wukong and Mac popping up in the background, "Ay, my fellow demon, can we switch?"

...i have nothing to add. this situation is funny and perfect to me :)

[likeburningcoal]

So I watched the first two episodes since they’re in English now. Live reaction:

LMK Season 5 spoilers under the cut:

Fun training session! Let’s go!

Tired MK is tired. Somebody get this boy the therapy he needs!

Wukong is trying to be responsible about the monkey form at least.

“I’m compartmentalizing!” XD me too MK, me too

MAC MAC MAC!!!! Also “Bud” not in a mocking way!!!!

“This mountain’s been by home just as long as yours” I’m screaming!!!

They’re working together! (Sorta)

Wukong confirming he didn’t know about MK!

Referencing Mac’s death and resurrection!

Ominous stone crack!!

Mei!! My girl!!!

THEY BUILT HIM A NEW HOUSE!!!!

Tang continuing the tradition of shirking the hard labor. Good to see he’s still himself.

THE PICTURES!!!

The origami!!

Even Mo gets a picture!!

HUG HUG HUG!!!

MK please chill, like even 2% calmer would be a major improvement. You need to rest and get therapy.

“Sleeping with the noodles”

Dadsy give him some comfort. Also send him to therapy. Or teach him cooking.

MK backstory! Noodles! Sleepy noodles!!!! That is so cute oh my god!!

MK is a heavy boi. Also sleepy.

“I love you, son” I am not emotionally prepared for the sheer amount of MK and Pigsy fluff in the last two minutes.

Mac sleeping with the little monkeys!!! At the tree!!!

Spooky goings on. References to Monkey King getting kidnapped to the underworld perhaps??

Stop blaming the monkeys for the things they’ve been trying to stop please. That’d be great. MK needs a nap. You could’ve waited for him to sleep.

Wukong throwing shade about the underworld situation. You tell ‘em!

Smug smile. Good monkey.

Mac canonically appears in the Monkey King Ace Attorney TV show? What?

Fillet?? Fillet??? Nezha?!? “Nezhie”?!??!?

Li Jing, hey, can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you. Maybe take some parenting classes and then we’ll talk.

Mac trying to stop the fillet!!!

MK losing it a bit at that, love the concern for Wukong! They is a family!!!

Also Nezha trying to plea for them!

Underworld jail.

Grumpy Wukong and mopey Mac, I can just feel all the angst fics being written.

MK is trying so hard to free his mentor!

“It’s tense in here.” Gee I wonder why.

Secret plan with the fur? Secret plan with the fur? The nods?!

(I think I should interject here to point out, I rarely watch things without also doing something else to distract my hands, and yet my crochet has been forgotten because I’m having so many thoughts!)

Nezha providing exposition

Tang!Wukong, glasses is a must

Painted art style my beloved it’s good to see your return!

“My father is not the enemy” I mean he’s not exactly a pillar of goodness either my dude.

“I’m a clone”

Okay the running animation bit was actually pretty nice, love the movement. I like how they’re really trying to keep close to the original style of animation even though they’re working with a totally different tool set.

Mac, are you…are you Naruto running?

Wukong keeps doing the cutest smiles. I’m gonna have to go back through and grab some many screenshots.

Wukong and Mac just…knowing exactly how to fight together with no communication when they’re actually both on the same side.

Sandy got a new truck…

…And it’s gone, poor guy

MK worried that they’re just the harbingers of chaos when they have directly caused so few of the problems they’ve faced. Like, I get it, but maybe have some perspective. You know what would help with that? Therapy.

Just don’t explain anything. It’s fine. They’ll figure it out.

MK building powers!!

Fillet use!! Mac stepping in!! Mac sacrificing himself?!?!? Oh the angst fics will be legendary!!

“He always gets away, right?” Followed by sad face?!? OH THE ANGST FICS WILL BE LEGENDARY!!!

Monkey in pagoda. This feels familiar.

I’m sensing a later “boiling rock” style episode. Or else they all get trapped in there and have to bust out (Nezha helping them escape possibly?)

That was so good! I can’t wait for the actual proper release for better audio quality and more importantly MORE EPISODES!!

[millie-mar]

the stranger things i hate about you

chapter two: eddie ‘the freak’ munson

| 1,4k words | 10 things i hate about you!steddie |

The canteen ‘whispers’ and sounds of trays smacking the tables were always calming for Eddie. Considering the fact that most of his school life he has been alone and couldn’t even get a spot at a table in Hawkins High, the sound of the school’s canteen was a kind of reminder of how far he’s come. That paired with the excited chatter coming from his comrades at the table was enough for him to feel accomplished. In the past year he’s gained friends for life, thanks to his role-play gaming club and the band he’s put together with ‘the outcasts’ of Hawkins High, Gareth, Jeff and F. Maybe by the end of this year, which happens to be his last, he’ll become school’s new icon. Well, it is just his wishful thinking. He creates those little scenarios where he turns from a ‘nobody’ into someone big in a span of a couple weeks. All the while he’s actually playing with what is presumably mac and cheese.

Eddie’s friends can see that lately, their ‘leader’ has been more in thought than usual. Of course, Eddie Munson is known for constantly being in his own world, but not to the point where he doesn’t even react to Dustin Henderson trying to look into the notes for their DnD campaign. The group suspects that either something bad has happened, or Eddie is dating someone. The latter has caused the group to laugh when discussing the matter, they haven’t seen him with anyone, ever.

‘Eddie, my man, you good?’ Gareth asks.

‘Yeah’ is Eddie’s only reply, he’s clearly not in the mood for casual talk today.

‘It’s just that, you suddenly went all gloomy on us,’ Mike chips in, putting a fry in his mouth. Dustin steals some from Wheeler’s tray, causing the boy to slap him on the arm.

Usually in situations like that, Eddie would be the first to stop the youngest members of the group, but something else has caught his attention.

‘See, you’re even ignoring the Mike-Dustin bitch-slapping. What the hell’s going on Munson?’ Gareth keeps pressing, hoping to get a reaction out of him, but he gets nothing. Eddie is so engrossed in whatever got in his sight, nothing could get his attention off it.

Gareth follows Eddie’s line of sight, catching a glimpse of a tall, dark-blonde, ex-star of the basketball team. He leaned in, whispering to Eddie.

‘We’ve talked about this. Steve Harrington is another one of these jackasses who think they’re better than anyone else’ Gareth tries to be as quiet as possible so that no one from the table could hear him, but Eddie.

‘I know.’ It’s like Eddie has woken up from a dream, back to the dreary reality. He’s fully aware of what Steve Harrington has done to him. Well, he hasn’t hurt Munson physically, but his general snarky comments did leave a dent in his mind.

‘Wow, he’s alive.’ Gareth snarls, his brown curls caught in his eyes as he turns his head away.

‘Real funny, Gary.’ The tension between the two is so thick, it attracts the attention from the rest of the table. ‘Just because that’s the reality doesn’t mean I can’t wonder what could have happened if things were different. You know I have a wild imagination.’ Eddie flashes a fake smile at his best friend. He puts the fork in his still full plate, gets up and starts walking away. ‘See u guys seven.’ He waves, his back to their table, and leaves the canteen.

Trees loom over the school area, separating it from the rest of the world, yet another prison for Eddie. He has been arrested at least twice since reaching his adulthood last year, and thanks to that he can confirm that school is just a prison with more pleasant looking surroundings. Maybe that’s why he cannot escape his bad habits of selling and smoking weed in the woods behind the building. It has been his trading spot since he’s started the business at the beginning of junior year. Being penniless in his late teens has led him to this easy and quick job and he couldn’t stop since.

The spot in the woods has also become a place where Eddie can be alone. He can overthink and smoke all he wants without being interrupted. So when he arrives at his table, he’s quick to take out the last joint he has, and light it up as quickly as possible. However he hasn’t realised one thing; he’s not alone.

Steve could feel someone watching him in canteen earlier, but he didn’t care to look, too afraid of others’ judgement. He just kept walking, wondering how to get Eddie Munson to as much as talk to him, not even thinking about getting the guy to hang out with him. Steve knows Eddie hasn’t forgotten the damage Tommy’s group, including him, has caused. Wouldn’t what he’s going to do cause even more? Technically Steve wants to apologise and befriend the guy, so misunderstood and anxious. Steve can understand that much, considering himself to be in the same situation Eddie has once been, but he can’t tell him that. It’d only anger him.

Steve anxiously wanders the school corridor, back and forth, constantly passing the doors to the canteen he has gone through not so long ago. He stops abruptly and walks back to them, opening them slightly and peeking in. He scans the heads at the tables, finally catching a glimpse of dark curls, their owner leaving the room, waving his hand to someone. Steve, not sure who the recipient is, adds a mental note for himself to check who Eddie hangs out with, that’d make his objective a lot easier. He considers entering the canteen again to follow him, but the fear of others acknowledging his presence is too overwhelming, so he decides to go the round way, having a slight idea of where Eddie could have gone.

That’s how Steve arrives in the woods behind the school, a place for the druggies of Hawkins High. Usually he’s staying away from this spot, it wouldn’t have been good for his ‘good guy’ reputation. Not that it matters anymore, which is why he walks through the narrow path, covered by the branches and a bit of high grass. A small streak of light almost guiding the way to the spot where students of Hawkins High can buy drugs from no other than Eddie himself.

Taking each step as quietly as he can, Steve arrives at his destination, standing behind a tree and scanning the area to find Eddie sitting on a picnic table. A cloud of smoke surrounding the guy, scent so strong, Steve can smell it from where he is hiding. A delicate wind is causing Eddie’s dark curls to float everywhere uncontrollably, his nose scrunching in annoyance, hands covered in many silver rings trying to calm the mess on his head. Steve pays attention to all the smallest details in this guy's behaviour, all his small mannerisms like constant turning of the ring on his index finger, or how he leans back on the table, arms supporting him behind his back, a joint between his teeth, but no smoke coming out. He’s just taking deep breaths and keeping them in for a bit before breathing out slowly, taking his time. Steve is not sure how long he’s been here, staring at him, but he feels like he can’t approach him now. A weird feeling of embarrassment washing over him. So the blonde takes a step back, a loud crunch echoes against the silence, the sound bouncing off the trees. A quiet ‘fuck’ escapes him before he hears Eddie’s voice calling out to him.

‘Who’s there? If you want to buy shit, you have to tell me in advance. Didn’t bring anything with me.’ Eddie’s quick to assume, considering the only people that would come to a place so clearly regarded as his were druggies in dire need of an escape from this shitty world. His words not mine.

Without a word, Steve steps out from his hiding spot, coming face to face with Eddie Munson for the first time in two years. His palms start to sweat as he looks anywhere but at the guy in front of him.

Eddie is doing quite the opposite, staring at the boy intensely. ‘Fuck me, my eyes must be deceiving me. If this isn’t Steve Fucking Harrington.’

Eddie, so shocked seeing the blonde, doesn’t even realise he dropped the joint. However Steve realises immediately, and he watches the roach die out among leaves and grass, like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, all the while wondering, what has he gotten himself into?

|also sorry for any mistakes, english isn’t my first language|

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[yeehawpurgatory]

Arthur Claus?

❄️❄️❄️Seasons Greetings!❄️❄️❄️ @sanx049

I hope you have a wonderfully Merry Christmas and a warm holiday season. This little fic is my gift to you, hope you enjoy!

I had a lot of fun writing this. I took inspiration from your prompt about a gang/camp scenario. Plus who doesn't love Arthur doing the most at every possible moment? :) This fic was also crossposted to Ao3 so other folks might also enjoy. Do let me know if you have an ao3 account I could use to officially gift it to you there.

Summary: After a series of misfortune, the gang finds themselves cold, broke, and otherwise down on their luck. Arthur notices everyone's dwindling spirits, particularly little Jack. Despite what he'd said about being helpless himself, he takes it upon himself to organize something to bring everyone's spirits back up.

Words: 4k+

@rdrevents

It’s hard to decide which is colder; the miserable weather or the people moping about their equally miserable camp. Arthur sighs, tucks his head closer to his chest, and tugs his jacket up to block the chilly wind. 

    Nearly a week ago the cold set in. Dutch hasn’t delivered a good speech for a few days, too caught up in trying to plan their escape from this precarious situation. Cold and wet, hungry and broke, and on the run from both the law and O’Driscolls after a stagecoach turned out to be a clever setup. It knocked them off their kilter, left a few men injured, and spirits down. 

     Sticking by Dutch’s side is Hosea. The two commiserate about their next moves from the torn fabric of Dutch’s old tent. Susan’s coming down harder on most everyone around, including Mr Pearson. Speaking of, the mentioned man started whining to Arthur about their lack of food a few days ago, and he hasn’t stopped since. Strauss sits around with no money to count and little resources to stretch. Swanson lingers around their pathetic campfire, shaking and sleeping and waking in those fits of his. The girls are mostly kept busy between tending to themselves and the men laid up; Bill, Mac, and Lenny. Uncle is Uncle, he’s fine, if not annoying, which is nothing out of the ordinary. 

     With little to no reason to leave camp aside from hunting and replenishing in the nearest town, most of them sit around, moping, twiddling their thumbs and trying to keep busy. It’s not the men and women Arthur worries about however. They’ve all experienced hopelessness that rivals this. 

    He peers through the hair which fell on his face, too damn long but nowhere to get it cut and no one around he trusts to do it, not after last time. 

     Little Jack Marston sits in his mother’s lap, bearing a look so listless and sad Arthur has to look away. The boy is too smart for his own good; even if he doesn’t have an understanding of their situation, he’s observed the mood around camp and somehow absorbed it. He’s moping worse than any of them. 

     How much he could’ve remembered from last year Arthur doesn’t know, but the boy looked forward to the colder season only weeks ago. A lot of folks had. With Dutch’s insistence they’d steal a tree, nab a few pieces of decor, and shoot something big and meaty for Pearson, it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement. To be hopeful for a while. 

     “Arthur, you got a second?” A voice steals away his attention.

     If it ain’t the person I want t’see the least. Arthur lifts his head at the call of his name. His horse sniffs and huffs, blowing a visible gust of cold white air in his direction. 

     “Maybe. Depends on what you want.” 

     John bristles, and frowns. For a second Arthur thinks they may fight again. Hell, with the lack of action getting to him Arthur might welcome a fight. At least it’ll give him something to do. Despite his assumptions, John’s frown dissipates. 

     “Look, I know how things is, but I need t’ask you something.” 

     Typical John. 

     “What?” Arthur asks, his voice a little harsher than it needs to be. 

     “It’s,” John pauses, and glances over his shoulder, “it’s the boy,...and Abigail too I guess.” He scratches at his chin and neck, dark and stubbly; he lost his razor and mirror it looks like. 

     Arthur eyes him curiously. Marston’s relationship with his own son is basically nonexistent, but somehow better than his soured relationship with the mother of his child. Yet, here he stands, ready to ask Arthur for his input when he’s ignored so much of it in the past. 

     Arthur swallows his resentment for the time being. “What about them?”

     “Don’t know if you noticed, but folks are…down.” 

     He chuckles. “You think I’m blind? Of course I noticed.”

     “And the boy, he…I mean, he’s a good kid, usually happy. But he ain’t smiled or laughed or nothing for a week.” 

    “And that bothers you?” Arthur asks pointedly, unable to suppress the snark at the end of his question. 

     Again, John frowns but doesn’t address his attitude. “Look, you’re good with him. Ain’t there something you can do?”

     Arthur stands up straighter. Once again John Marston comes to him, asking him to shoulder his burden, to take on his responsibilities. If he weren’t so cold, so tired, and so fed up with their predicament, he might’ve shot the other down then and there. Instead, Arthur sighs. His thoughts on John aside, the boy’s mood is unfortunate. What might rival that misfortune however is Abigail Roberts; her taking it all on her shoulders while her good for nothing husband prances about, trying his utmost to avoid his own family. 

     “Should I wave my hands around, say a few words, try to will our shit circumstances away?”

     “Goddammit Morgan, I’m not askin’ for me. It’s just… you’re good with him, hell, you’re good with everyone. Always takin’ care of folks. I just thought, maybe you could do something?”

     Do something? He goes out to get what little supplies they can afford without being asked, he puts up with Susan and Pearson’s nagging, and endures Dutch and Hosea’s ramblings; and Marston wants him to do more than that? To hell with him!

     “Look, I ain’t in the mood for this just now. If your family needs something then it ought to be you who takes care of it. I can’t do nothing for you.” Arthur looks away. There’s something about John’s pathetic, dark-eyed stare that usually had Arthur giving into his requests like he was dealing with a Goddamn child, instead of a hardened capable man. 

     John says nothing for a second, then he clicks his teeth. “Alright then. Sorry I asked. Don’t know what I was thinking, you got a lot to do. Abigail’s been kicking my ass about the boy, I figured you’d know what to do.” 

     “Your problems are your own.” Arthur digs into his pocket, feeling around for the pack of smokes he’s certain is in there. He finds nothing, then remembers he’d tossed it to Tilly earlier that day. “Best be on your way.” 

     “Right. Well, thanks.” John swivels on his feet, though he lingers for a few seconds. Maybe he’s waiting around, expecting Arthur to give in and agree to save his ass like all the other times.

      It ain’t gonna be like all those other times, not just now. 

     John finally slinks away, leaving Arthur and his horse alone again. His attention shifts to his animal. She sniffs at him, nuzzling her nose against the hand he’s got sitting there. Probably looking for something to eat. 

     “Sorry girl,” he shushes her. “Ain’t nothing I can do for you neither.” 

***

     “Hey Arthur, c’mere for a second.” Abigail beckons him toward her. “Can you please watch him, just long enough I can get something to eat?”

     “Sure.” How can he say no to her? Though it is a curious thing she’s asked him over any of the girls. Or his own damn father. “You uh, asked John?” 

     She huffs. “Dutch needed him for something. Left a while ago. I know you probably have things to do, but everyone’s so caught up and I-” 

     “Hush, I understand. Go take a few minutes, I got the kid.” He tells her. 

     Something in her blue eyes soften, relief overcomes her, “thanks Arthur, I can always count on you.” 

     She leaves him be but for some reason her words stick with him. She can always count on him? What about now? He shakes his head.

     “Hi Jack!” He says with a smile, wondering if the boy can tell a real one from a fake one. Hopefully not.

     “Hi Uncle Arthur.” Jack looks at him, then drops his head. 

     “Where’re your things? I don’t see no toys.”

     Silence then, “I left them at the other camp.” 

     Oh. “Well, you can always practice your letters.” 

     Jack looks down, fiddling with his fingers. A blatant display of stress. 

     “You…don’t have your books, do ya’? Let me guess, you left them at the other camp.” Arthur says.

     The boy looks up at him with big shining eyes, craning his neck. “Don’t tell Ma, she’ll be sooo mad.” 

     No wonder the boy’s been so glum, he’s sitting here with nothing. No toys, no books, no one talking to him. Abigail’s been with him, trying her best, but she’s tired and often needed elsewhere. John’s been keeping an eye on him at least, the little good that’s doing. Hosea is busy. Tilly is busy. Dutch is busy. Sure, sometimes Arthur checks on him, but it’s just not enough entertainment for a boy his age. 

     “I won’t tell her nothin’, promise.” 

     That seems to make him smile, just for a second or two. Then it’s back to sulking.

     Arthur sighs, taking a seat on a nearby chair. The boy is usually chatty with him if no one else. Yet he sits there quietly now. 

     “Ain’t heard much out of you. What’s wrong?” 

     Jack seems to contemplate, staring up at the sky as he does. “Hmm, Ma and Pa are busy. And they look sad. So is everyone.” 

     “No Jack, they're not sad, no one is. Folks is… just a little,-”… what can he say to a child that won’t make them worry or ask more questions? “They’re tired, and they’re thinking…about where we’re going next.” 

     “It’s cold here.” 

     “I know Jack.”

     “And boring.” 

     “Yeah.” Arthur chuckles.  

     It’s like he figured before. The kid is perceptive even if he doesn’t know it himself. There’s no way to lift Jack’s spirit, no point in trying if everyone else is still down and stressed out. The kid’ll just work himself up again.

     There’s nothing he can do. Nothing at all. 

    “Arthur!” Abigail joins them again. He gets up from the chair, beckoning her to take the seat. She does, smoothing her skirt and tugging her jacket up a bit more. “Thank you for that.” 

     He nods at her, wondering briefly if he should mention anything about Jack, but the kid’s sitting right there, and he promised he wouldn’t after all. 

     “It’s no problem. I’ll catch you later.” 

     Arthur leaves them be, reflecting, pondering. Jack won’t cheer up so long as the camp is all gloomy. Mood around camp won’t get better unless they get out of here; or unless they’ve got something to bring their spirits up. Though what could do the job? 

     Just then he hears laughter. Loud and annoying and clearly coming from Sean Maguire. Javier jerks awake from where he sat at a table slumped over, knocking a bottle over and cussing. Following that is the sound of Pearson calling out. “Food’s ready!” 

   Food. Booze. Sean. A series of ideas smack him in the face and suddenly, Arthur Morgan has a plan.

***

     With a rifle slung over his shoulders John makes his way to guard duty, or rather, he was until he notices the small crowd in the middle of camp. 

     He peeks over everyone’s shoulder and frowns, his mouth falling open slightly. What the hell?

     Past the crowd of people standing shoulder to shoulder, he first spots Sean Maguire with a hand on Jack’s shoulder. The young man is in the middle of telling a tale, his movement exaggerated and his voice loud.

     “…And some say he’ll visit the do-gooders while they sleep, leaving them gifts of all kinds. Toys for the little boys, dresses for the girls, maybe coins for their parents! Tell me that don’t sound magical, eh kid?” Sean’s got Jack captivated in a tale he’s clearly weaving on the spot, but dammit, the kid is more lively than he has been in quite a time.

     John’s eyes fall to the big old circular table sitting in the middle of the commotion. His eyes go wide. 

     Their odd mismatched plates and bowls sat neatly in their respective piles, along with their mugs and tin cups. A few brand new bottles sit next to them. John recognizes all but one, whose label is shining and clean. Oddly enough he spots pieces of paper with names on them, fixed to each bottle with twine. Gifts? 

     Nevermind the booze. There’s the beginnings of a feast, or the closest to one that he’s seen in a while. Potatoes, carrots, peas and corn, things he knows have to have come from a can; he’s lived off canned food his whole life, he recognizes it instantly. In the middle of the plates sits a few good looking hunks of meat, those ain’t seen a can for certain. 

     Susan stands beside a pile of chocolate bars, also tied up with twine and paper on them. She calls out folks’ names and hands them out. More gifts? 

     The table itself is oddly decorated with pinecones and branches with dried red berries. Individually wrapped hard candy is strewn about another plate next to some coffee, this one only holding biscuits. Most are cracked in half and clearly from a tin, but still certainly put there with care. Twine ties a few pieces of greenery to each table leg. John isn’t much for style and presentation, but he has to admit it’s a pretty sight. 

     “What is all this?” Dutch takes him by the shoulder, not unkind, just caught off guard. 

     “I…have no idea.” 

     “Oh look! He’s left something for you.” Sean’s voice steals their attention. 

     “Really?” Jack pipes up with enthusiasm only a child could have. 

     “Says your name on it after all!” Sean kneels down, grabbing a wrapped box from beneath the table, giving it to the boy. 

     Jack lights up, forgoing his manners and tearing newspaper and twine until he gets it open. Then, he stares down with a wide smile overtaking his round face. “Look! Ma!”

     Abigail comes into view, her face also a clear look of disbelief, but she’s smiling as she looks down at the boy. “What’cha got there?”

     The kid holds up two new books, one in each hand. A few folks give him an exaggerated whoop, a few clap; mostly, John notices they’re happy to see the boy’s blatant display of innocent joy. It’s a welcome change for sure. 

     “I bet your Pa can help you read those,” Abigail looks up, singling him out in the crowd. 

     John opens his mouth but someone else speaks up from behind him and claps him on the back.

     “Yeah, he’ll do that.” Arthur. “Won’t you?”

     John looks at him, then Abigail, then the boy. His wide eyes and happiness, Abigail’s hopefulness, Arthur’s threatening form looming near him; “of course.” 

     “Yay! Thanks Pa!” The boy doesn’t wait for any other prompting, he dives right back into the box half his size. 

     John takes a step back, turning to face the other man. Arthur’s standing tall, an innocuous look on his face, but John’s known him for a long time. Something is off. His eyes are ringed and dark beneath, and they droop. His shoulders aren’t so straight. His back is hunched. He’s tired. They all are, but him more than usual. Realization dawns on him.

     “Huh, wonder what else is in that box.” 

     Arthur shrugs. “How should I know?”

     John’s eyes narrow. “When’d you have the time to do all this?” He asks quietly. 

     “Do what?” 

     “Don’t bullshit me Morgan.” John turns back around at the sound of laughter from Jack, who’s feeding Hosea a piece of chocolate with his already messy hands. Abigail’s musing over him, while most other folks have settled around and began picking at the goods. 

     When he turns back to Arthur, to press him further, he pauses. Arthur’s suppressing a yawn, rubbing his eyes, blinking a few times. Lord, he’s beat. 

     “How?” John asks gentler than before.

     Arthur sighs. “I had help, so don’t go thinkin’ I did this on my own. Woke Pearson up an hour earlier, had to promise him the best bottle. Ha! Susan was already up, I had her and Tilly help me.” 

    “Just where’d you get all this?” John asks.

     “Uh, in town?” Arthur answers like it's obvious.

     “You went yesterday?” 

     “I went last night.” Arthur scratches his beard. 

     “Last night? And no one asked you where you were headed?” 

     Arthur sighs again. “Believe it or not, Sean can keep quiet when he wants to. Certainly not now though, I think he’s still yapping away.” 

     A glimpse over his shoulder confirms that. 

     “He was happy to keep quiet last night, even gave me some suggestions.” Arthur yawns. “Now, I got’ta go get some shut eye, you have anymore questions need answering, or am I free to go?” 

     John’s just got the one. 

     “Where’d you get the money for all that?” 

     Arthur visibly sags. “You remember the stagecoach we did a few months back?”

     “Yeah.” John’s not sure where this is going. Arthur couldn’t’ve had money remaining from that. Could he? 

     “Well I splurged a little. Bought a few nice things. A pistol, got a set of buckles, a good watch.” 

     Meaning dawns on John. “Oh, Arthur, really? You sold ‘em? Those were…yours.” 

     Arthur gives him an irritated look, shifting on his feet and looking away. “Weren’t nothing.” 

     Weren’t nothing? Just how selfless could he be? Just as John gets ready to retort, Jack calls him.

      “Pa! Come see this!” 

     When he turns back around Arthur gives him a hard look. “Go be with your family. Oh, and I picked you up a razor and a mirror. S’in your tent.” 

     He’s off before John can say another thing to him.

***

     Finally, finally they managed to leave that sorry excuse for a camp. Dutch finally pulled his head out of his ass, and with Hosea’s direction he led them onward and outward toward someplace better. No longer than a few days, and now the gang is good and settled someplace better than they’ve been in a long while. The weather warmed enough to travel in comfort, enough to lift the spirit of folks around him. It’s a real miracle if he’s ever seen one. 

     It’s not just the folks whose spirits have lifted. The animals are doing much better too. Boadicea returned to her regular self, much to Arthur’s pleasure. 

     “Hey Arthur, can I steal you for a minute?” 

     He peers up at Marson’s freshly shaved face. “What now?” He mumbles with a blessedly dry cigarette hanging from his lips. 

     “Just get up and follow me.” John leaves no room for argument as he walks away. Arthur’s got half a mind to let the fool trott on by himself, but for some reason, he follows the other man. 

     “You steering me toward trouble now Marston?” 

     John honest to God laughs at that. “Nah, I reckon you’ll like this.” 

     Arthur’s scowl deepens. God help Marston if he decided to try some nonsense today. After everything he’s done he needs a break. A day, a few hours, a single hour; is that too much to ask around here? 

     John leads him toward the horses, where a few other folks are standing around. Then, he stops and clears his throat. 

     It’s like he blew a whistle for some call to action. Folks turn around. Abigail, Tilly, Marybeth, Karen, Sean; they’re all here. Arthur lifts a brow. 

     “What’s going on?” 

     Karen and Marybeth share a look, Tilly spots a guilty smile.

     “Arthur,” Abigail starts. “What you did for Jack, well, that was real good of you. Lifted most of our spirits too.” 

     “I agree, and you certainly enlisted the best accomplice,” Sean snickers. 

     John steps past Abigail, stooping down lowly before standing upright with a large box in his arms. “Ain’t much, but a few of us thought you should have this.” 

     Arthur stares at the box, then at John, then to the rest of them. “What’s this?” 

     “It’s a gift, from all of us.” Tilly says. “A few others chipped in too.”  

     “Javier, Hosea, even a few cents from Uncle.” says Marybeth. 

     “Course’ we had to pick it from his pockets,” adds Karen. “You can thank Abigail for that.”

     Abigail laughs. “Weren’t nothing. Now take it.” 

     John hands him the box. Arthur takes it, his eyes widening. 

     “It’s heavy! I thought you said it weren’t nothing much?” 

     Another round of guilty looks from the small crowd. 

     “Look, I think the words yer’ lookin’ for is ‘thank you’, ain’t that right?” Sean says. 

     If he wasn’t so surprised Arthur might have smacked him over the head, or at least threatened to do so. He swallows hard, unsure of what to say. “Thank you. All a’you. This is…it weren’t necessary.” 

     John snorts, “don’t even know what’s inside yet.” 

     “Open it!” Says Marybeth. “Please!” 

     The box is crudely wrapped in newspaper, the sides tucked in messily and a few spots are stained and torn. It tears away easily. Arthur takes off the lid. 

     He pauses, then chuckles. 

     “Okay, this is…,” he chuckles again, shaking his head. 

     He pulls a small pouch out. From the gaps in the cloth he sees strands of hay sticking out. There’s another, and from it he can smell the peppermint candies. There’s a few perishable things; a pear, an apple, a few carrots with dirt still on them. There’s also a small hard bristled brush, and a few tonics, all sitting atop a new saddle blanket; they really pitched in to get things not for him, but for his horse? It’s…kind of funny, but practical. Needed.

     Arthur looks up. “This is real thoughtful, thank you, all of you.” 

     “Arthur,” Abigail says, “there’s more things.” 

     More? Arthur rummages around, frowning as he looks under the blanket. Then, he finds it. A book? A brand new leather bound journal and a good pen. A belt buckle, no, two of them? A bottle, a big one at that, a good bottle of dark whiskey. A pack of premium smokes. 

Just when he thinks that’s all, his fingers touch the edges of something square, no, something rectangular. Arthur slips a hand inside and feels for that one last thing. 

     Seconds later, he pulls it out and blinks. Words die in his throat. He stares down at a picture of his dear Ma, fitted and framed carefully. Perfectly in fact. 

     “I…how?” He looks up at the rest of them. 

     “Took a little bit of effort and snooping to get that picture.” Tilly tells him. 

     “Who?” That picture was pressed in the back of his old journal, an old thing falling apart at the spine, hidden away at the bottom of his trunk of things. Arthur looks to Abigail. She’s always been a good thief. Was it her? 

     Abigail shakes her head. “Ain’t me.” She tilts her head to the side, to where Marston stands with his hands behind his back causally. A hint. A confirmation. 

     “Really? John?” Arthur says in disbelief.

     John shrugs. “It weren’t hard. I just, waited for you to be busy. I knew where to look.” 

     He should be mad at the thought of John invading his space like that. Any other day he would be. He looks down at the framed picture. His Ma is smiling faintly. It’s an image he’s seen a hundred times, the only image of her he has left in fact; but seeing it like this, cared for, treated so nicely. Well, Arthur Morgan might think himself a hard man, but this is enough to melt his heart. 

     “I don’t know what to say.” 

     “You don’t have to say anything. Just, take the gift and take the thanks.” John tells him. 

     “Just don’t turn around and break it,” Karen says. 

     “Never,” Arthur replies. He means it. “I’ll take good care of this, thank you lot. It’s…this is…thank you.” 

     Sean breaks away first, prompting others to join him. Karen follows, Marybeth and Tilly return to their spots. Abigail goes too. Only he and John are left standing there. 

     “Was I right? Do you like it?” John’s grin is sheepish. For a moment, Arthur forgets to be annoyed or mad at him. 

     “I love it, really. I wasn’t expecting that from…anyone.” 

     “Yeah well, m’sure everyone’s glad to see you happy for a change. Enjoy it.” John says, then quickly adds. “Dutch thinks I’m on guard duty, I have to go.” 

     Arthur bids him a goodbye, and soon he’s standing alone. He’s still clutching that picture of his Ma, still looking down at it when his horse whinnies. 

     Arthur chuckles. “Yeah girl, there’s plenty in here for you too.”