#no character i actually produce or like or anything nah that would be too easy

[starswallowingsea]

i did 80 pulls and only got mitsuru's feature. i no longer produce rinne

rinne fs drops tomorrow everyone pull out the summoning circle so i can get him in 20 pulls like i did with shu and izumi

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

A Worst Cooks in America O’Knutzy AU

The Sweater Weather Discord group helped me come up with this idea like two months ago, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. All credit goes to @lumosinlove for her amazing characters!

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

Chapter 1: Don’t Go Bacon My Heart

The Day Before the Competition

Interviewer (off camera): Finn O’Hara and Logan Tremblay for their introductions.

Logan: * taps on microphone* Is this mic working?

Finn: How do you still not know how to work a mic? You deal with them all time.

Logan: I signed up to compete in a cooking show, not to deal with your chirps.

Finn: You love ‘em. *winks*

Interviewer: So basically all we want from you guys is a brief introduction for the viewers. I’ll ask some questions, but most of this should be you guys just talking. We can edit things out later, so don’t worry about anything like that. Why don’t you guys start with your names and careers and we’ll go from there.

Finn: Yo, I’m Finn O’Hara, and I’m a terrible cook. *finger guns* Although I guess that’s a given, seeing that I’m on this show.

Logan: *mumbles in French, head in hands*

Finn: This asshole – shit, no – fuck! Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be cussing. This is a family-friendly show.

Logan: Dear God, please stop talking. I’m Logan Tremblay, the unfortunate boyfriend.

*Finn pouts*

Interviewer: And you guys play hockey?

Logan: Yeah, we play in the NHL. Gryffindor Lions.

Finn: That’s how we met, actually. Through hockey. We played together at Harvard, then got drafted to the Lions about a year apart. We’ve known each other for eight years and have been together for three of them. Can’t seem to get rid of this one.

Interviewer: And you’re not worried about being rivals on this show?

Finn: Rivals is a strong word… I mean yes we’ll be competing against each other instead of being teammates, but we know going in that it’s not personal. Just a little healthy competition.

Interviewer: So what made the two of you sign up for this show?

Logan: We didn’t. Our teammate Dumo and his wife Celeste did. They thought it would be funny. *pause* They’re probably right.

Interviewer: Out of the two of you, who is the worst cook?

*Finn and Logan point to each other*

Logan: You can’t be serious.

Finn: You once cooked pasta so much that it turned into literal paste!

Logan: You tried to cook pizza rolls in a toaster.

Finn: That’s what it said in the instructions!

Logan: It said toaster oven, you - *more French*

Finn: English, Tremz. How many times do I have to tell you that? I guess we’ll find out once and for all who the better cook is by the end of the next eight weeks, right? *mouths “it’s me” to the camera*

Logan: Whatever, Fish.

Interviewer: I think we’ve got all we need guys, thanks. Start time for tomorrow is 10:00 am, but plan on being here forty-five minutes to an hour early to get ready. We’ll see you then.

Competition Day

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous.” Finn stated, running a hand through his hair and looking around at the studio they’d be in and out of for the foreseeable future. There were cooking stations everywhere and he could already see tools and machines that he had no clue how to use. There were twelve other contestants that he didn’t know and the crew scattered everywhere, running back and forth trying to get everything ready. “God, how am I sweaty already? Is this normal?”

Logan rolled his eyes but still reached over to grab Finn’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “Relax. It’s not so bad.” Finn smiled down at him, glad that they were at least here together. How in the hell did he get so lucky?

“Besides, you’ll be sent home soon enough. So don’t stress too much.”

Finn laughed. “Wow, I hate you so much right now.” He betrayed his words with a quick kiss. “You’re going down.”

Those green eyes flashed at the challenge, but right as he opened his mouth to respond-

“Good morning, recruits!”

All heads turned towards the voice. Three figures stood towards the front of the room: one they both recognized as the producer, who was flanked by who Finn assumed to be the chefs, seeing that they were wearing chef’s outfits. Chef’s uniforms? Did their uniforms have a technical name? Finn made a mental note to google that later.

Anyways, one was a short woman with dark ringlets tied back in a ponytail and an undiscernible expression on her face. The other was tall, blond, and had legs for days Jesus Christ-

“Welcome to your first day of boot camp! This is chef Dorcas Meadowes and chef Leo Knut; they’ll be your team leaders. We’re going to start with some footage of you all walking into the kitchen, so if you all would wait out there until you’re allowed to come back in. Cameras will be rolling, so be ready! After that, our chefs will explain the first challenge and then you’ll start cooking.” He clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s get this show started!”

“Why did they make us come in here just to send us back out?” Logan grumbled, following the other shuffling contestants out into the hall.

“Probably easier to give directions to the main studio instead of saying ‘hey, just wait out in the hall.’”

Logan hummed noncommittally. “I guess.” He wasn’t overly excited to be here; most of this (besides the initial push by Dumo and Celeste) was Finn’s idea. And god knows he could never say no to Finn. One look at that pout and brown puppy-dog eyes and he was done for. Logan didn’t like cooking, but he did like Finn. And they’d probably remember this for years to come. It didn’t matter what he was doing, as long as he was with Finn and making memories with him he’d do just about anything.

“Wonder what the first challenge is.” Finn mused, his eyes locked on the doors.

Logan laughed. “Always so impatient.”

“I’m a New Yorker,” Finn grinned, leaning into his accent. “It’s in my blood.”

The doors opened and contestants began filing back into the kitchen. Finn made sure to wave enthusiastically at the chefs with a wide smile. Logan noticed the tall one (god, he’d already forgotten the guy’s name) give a little wave in return as the other chef commanded the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Good morning, recruits, and welcome to boot camp! I’m chef Dorcas Meadowes, and this is chef Leo Knut. He’s the rookie of our crew, but don’t worry – he’s still qualified to teach all of you. Even though that’s not saying much.”

There was a smattering of laughter and chef Leo smiled, revealing dimples Logan could see from where he stood. “Hey, y’all. I’m very excited to see what makes all of you qualified to be put on this show. Who knows? Maybe you’ll give me more gray hair.” Dorcas laughed and ran her fingers through the tuft of gray hair at his temple.

“When did you get this? I don’t remember seeing it when we were in culinary school. Is it from Iron Chef?”

“Nah, this is from having Gordon Ramsay come to my restaurant.”

“Truly a terrifying man.” She shuddered. “Anyways, you guys be nice to this giant ball of sunshine. Even if he’s new, he’s still able to eliminate you from this competition.”

“In order to pick our teams, we need to see what kind of skills you have.” Leo winced. “Or don’t have. So today, we want you to make your favorite dish. Easy enough, right?”

“Oh god,” Finn murmured into Logan’s ear. “What’s my favorite dish? Do I even have one?”

“Finn.”

“You all have an hour to complete this task.” Dorcas said, glancing down at her watch. “And your time starts… now!”

“Fuck.” Finn stated emphatically, dashing off to the pantry.

Fuck was right. God, what was Logan going to make? He was wracking his brain for something while he grabbed two aprons from the back. He tossed one to Finn and took the station beside him before hurrying to the pantry. Chicken was always a safe bet, right? Celeste made a barbeque chicken recipe that was to die for. That couldn’t be too hard. It was just chicken and barbeque sauce. And maybe green beans on the side? He could get those canned ones and they’d taste fine if he rinsed them. This was fine.

He guessed on the temperature for the oven. 350 seemed good. Then he dumped two chicken breasts into a pan, poured the barbeque sauce over them, and put them into the oven.

“What are you making?” Logan startled at the soft voice, turning to see chef Leo at his station.

Blue eyes.

Logan blinked, Leo’s question forgotten. “Quoi?”

“You speak French?”

Why was his brain refusing to work all of a sudden? Get it together, Tremblay. “Uh, yeah.”

“What are you making?” Leo asked for the second time, but now it was in French. Weirdly worded French.

“Barbeque chicken.” Logan responded in French, then switched back to English. “What in the world was that?”

Leo flashed him a grin. “New Orleans, born and raised. We speak French there, too. Now tell me how you’re making that chicken.”

“Uh.” He had never said the word ‘uh’ so much in one sitting. Merde. “I put it in a pan, spread barbeque sauce over it, and I’m cooking it at 350.”

“How do you know when it’s done?”

Was this a trick question? It felt like a trick question. “Uh.” Fuck. “It has to get to a specific internal temperature, right?”

The chef nodded. “And what’s that?”

“145?"

Something in Leo’s expression flickered, but Logan couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Well, good luck. Logan, right?”

“Yeah.”

“See you at the judging table.” He said with a dimpled smile before moving to Finn’s station, which was already a mess. “Oh my. How are you doing over here?”

Finn laughed a bit hysterically. “Not good. Not good at all.”

“Ok. What’s going on?”

“Well I’m trying to make carbo’hara, and –“

“Really, Fish?” Logan called from his station. “That’s what you’re making?”

“What’s carbo’hara?” Leo asked as he watched Finn put bacon in a pan.

“Oh,” Finn waved a hand carelessly. “It’s just carbonara, but a pun on my name, O’Hara. Get it?”

Leo laughed, crossing long arms over his chest. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, but it makes me happy. My parents used to make it every night before my brother or I had hockey games.”

“Oh, that’s right. You guys are hockey players.”

“Go Lions!” Finn cheered, taking a spoonful of butter and throwing it into the pan with the bacon.

“Are you putting butter on bacon?” Leo asked with a raised eyebrow.

Finn responded with full confidence, “I didn’t want it to stick to the pan.”

“Ok. Got it. I… I look forward to seeing what you make.” Finn watched as Leo bit his lip and tried his hardest not to laugh.

Cute.

Finn felt his cheeks flush and blamed it on the steam from the pasta.

The last thirty minutes of the task were absolute chaos, but both boys got it done. Finn’s looked messy, which accurately summed up his cooking style. Logan was pretty proud of how his looked; he just hoped it tasted good. He gave Finn a smile and a fist bump. “Ready to be judged?”

Finn laughed, looking down at his plate. He grimaced. “Not really.”

“We’re all bad cooks. Chances are someone else’s dish is worse than yours.”

“That… actually helped. Thanks.”

***

 Finn was chosen to be judged before Logan. He brought up his plate with a sheepish smile and placed it on the table in front of the chefs. Dorcas raised an eyebrow while Leo prodded the pasta with his fork.

“It’s carbo’hara.” Finn stated with pride.

“Well, Finn…” Dorcas met his eyes. “This looks like a mess, but let’s see how it tastes.”

Finn cringed as they both took a bite of his food. Dorcas frowned as she chewed and Leo tilted his head, a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t know how you did it, but this solidifies in my mouth like glue.”

“Oh god, please don’t eat any more.”

“You definitely put a lot of effort in and you have a lot of potential,” Leo said with a small smile. “I think you were just a little too ambitious for this first round and it got away from you.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for the input.” Finn grabbed his plate and made his way back to his station. He wasn’t too upset by those reviews – he already knew he was a bad cook. But he had potential, so at least he had that going for him.

Logan grinned at him back at his station. “I can’t believe you served the judges glue pasta.”

“At least I’m not serving them canned green beans.”

“They taste just fine, thank you very much.”

“Lo, they’re professionals. You’re not getting away with something lazy like that.”

He definitely got in trouble for using the canned green beans. Dorcas looked down at them like they were worms. Leo gave him the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed’ look, which was even worse, please don’t look at me like that.

“Canned food is a no-go, huh?”

“Definitely.”

“And this chicken isn’t cooked all the way.” Leo said, showing him the pink meat. “You said earlier that you’d cook it until it reached 145 degrees, but chicken needs to reach 165 at a minimum.”

“I’m sure it tasted fine, though.” Dorcas added. “You can’t really go wrong with pre-made barbeque sauce and chicken.”

Ouch. Logan grabbed his plate. “Right. Thanks.”

Finn was predictably cackling at his station. “Tremz, they couldn’t even eat yours. Celeste is going to be so disappointed in you.”

“Shut up.”

 ***

As soon as they were back into their hotel room, Finn kicked his shoes off and faceplanted into the couch. “I can’t believe that took so long.”

“Yeah,” Logan sat down and grabbed his take-out. “Who knew cooking all day would make us so hungry?”

Finn made grabby hands at the other food container. Logan laughed and handed it to him. “I haven’t been this hungry since playoffs, fuck.”

They ate in silence and were finished in record-setting time. Finn collected their trash and stood up to throw it away. “So blue team, huh? I’m kind of surprised they put us on the same team.”

“Me too. But Leo seems like a good teacher, so I’m glad we’re on his team.”

“Yeah, he seems so young, too.” Which sounded ridiculous to say; Leo couldn’t be that much younger than them. “If he’s already winning competitions and starring in cooking shows at that age, he must be pretty good.”

“Winner of Iron Chef America, Chopped, Guy’s Grocery Games…” Logan read off his phone with a low whistle. “He graduated culinary school early and opened his own restaurant a year later.”

“Damn.”

“There’s a video of one of his competitions on here.”

“Play it!” Finn said excitedly, flopping back down on the couch and peering over his boyfriend’s shoulder. Logan gave him a strange look. “What? Maybe we’ll learn something useful.”

“I think this is going to be way too complicated for us, but ok.”

So they sat on the couch watching cooking competitions for hours, learning skills and techniques that went way over their heads. Logan wordlessly switched to Leo’s cooking show Cajun Cooking, watching episode after episode of the blue-eyed chef teaching traditional New Orleans recipes.

Little did they know that halfway across the city in his own apartment, Leo Knut was watching Youtube highlights of the Gryffindor Lions, keeping a sharp eye out for number seventeen and number ten.

[struwwelzeter]

Ok, here it is. This is one of my all time favorite interviews. It doesn’t really contain anything new, and I am still convinced it has been translated before, but that is beside the point. He is so chatty, and I get the impression he was quite at ease with the interviewer, and he’s just and adorable dork. I gave up on trying to capture his “voice” pretty fast because it’s impossible. Maybe it’s because I know how he sounds when he speaks english, but he’s ... a bit of a hazard, in that he sounds dumb one minute and sophisticated the next, and some of the things he says are actually not translateable, so I just concentrated on trying to get what he says across and gave up on the how.

Interview with Richard Kruspe of Emigrate and Rammstein

by Marcus Schleutermann of Rock Hard Magazine, August 22, 2008

—-

Richard, where and in what kind of circumstances did you grow up?

Until I was seven I lived in a small village called Weisen. That was a beautiful childhood with alot of nature, cats and dogs and a big family with two siblings. Then the big break came unfortunately, with the divorce of my parents. My father was gone from one day to the next, and we moved in with my stepfather in Schwerin. We didn’t ge on at all. The situation between me and him escalated quite a bit and I often ran away from home quite often. Sometimes I slept on park benches or in a friend’s basement and was looked for by the police. When there was the chance to start an apprenticeship somewehre else I jumped on it right away and went to Hagenau. Since there was nothing there other than a big army base, I did nothing but spend two and a half years worth of sparetime playing guitar. Looking back, I have to say that my stepfather at least taught me basic discipline. I profit from that by now, because as a musician there is no outside obligation to sit down and compose every day.

Where would you most like to live?

At the moment, I live both in Berlin and in New York. I like that duality. New York has a unique energy that drives me. I never really warmed up to Berlin on the other hand. When I first came here, the negative attitude of the people here totally spooked me. It’s always a no at first. Apart from that it’s pretty cold here. But by now quite a few things have changed for the better, especially this refreshing multiculti-thing, which of course doesn't only work between germans and turks, but between all sorts of nationalities. I would most like to live in Cape Town. You have the mountains on one side and two oceans on the other. The people are open and friendly and there is a very beautiful light that is good for my mind. (I feel obligated to say that he uses the word «Gemüt» which could also mean mood or soul and kind of means all of those 3 things at once.) I can imagine that as a retirement retreat.

Were you more of nerd or a bruiser in school?

I think that goes without saying - quite a bit of a bruiser.

So you did end up in brawls now and then.

Certainly. At the age of 10 to 14 I got into situations all the time where I - lets say - could let loose physically. But when I started wrestling I learned how to chanel my aggressions. I trained 5 times a weekand had competitions on the weekends. Unfortunately I was way too offensive most of the time and had no patience while fighting. I wanted victory right away, like tyson.

Are your parents proud and of you?

I think my biological father is very proud of me. My mother always wanted something else for me, but by now my muscian’s life is okay for her. At the end of the day it doesn't matter what you do, as long as you are successful. Especially for the post-war generation of my parents materialistic value is still held above evrything.

So what does money mean to you?

Essentially, only the freedom to be able to do what I like to do. Money means independency to me most of all. The problem with that is of course that you get used to a certain level of luxury and lifestyle. When I earned the first bit of money with Rammstein I was in seventh heaven and thought I would never need more. With my two apartments in London and Berlin and the constant travelling I need a bit more nowadays.

How do you define success?

Success is relative. With Emigrate I got great reviews, sold a good number of albums worldwide and got releases in America and Australia. Therefore, I could assess my solo project as a success, but in comparison with Rammstein, who sell millions, Emigrate are small fry.

What was the most miserable job you ever had?

The worst job was window cleaner, because I suffer from vertigo a bit [laughs]. Initially I was a truckdriver, but I lost my license after an accident. After that the company deemed I was supposed to become a window cleaner and climb up the Schwerin television tower. No way! I just put up the ladder for them and told them: See you later! (He actually uses english for the see you later. More impactful, you see.) To get by, I made shoes myself and sold them. Espardrilles and the likes. That is funny, because I am actually not talented in crafts at all. But I am streetwise and inventive when it comes to survival. I always had to improvise to get by because I couldn't handle authority at all. As a teenager I apprenticed to be a cook/chef (Same word in german. Probably more a cook than a chef to be honest here.) That's a tough job going off the tough hours alone. Apart from that it gets quite hot by the stove after a while.

That is not that different with Rammstein’s pyro show.

Quite true, hahaha! I believe cooking and making music has so much in common anyway. I have always cooked without a recipe. I just take what is there and conjure up something delicious. Some things maybe don't fit that well in the beginning, but you learn that quite quickly and then you develop an intuitive sense. That is the same with composing.

What would have become of you, if you hadn’t become a musician?

Hm, good question. I would like to produce a band some time - so kinda switch to the other side. Other than that I love to write and could imagine screenwriting would be a suitable job for me.

Speaking of Hollywood, how about being before the camera? Are there characters you would have loved or love to play?

Two characters I find brilliant: Taxi Driver and Leon the Professional. And those gangster flicks are cool. Goodfellas and Reservoir Dogs for exemple.

So more the underdogs and the villains - not the heroes.

Yes, they just have more potential. After I shot some erotic scenes for a video the other day I could also imagine doing an entire film in that direction. I was quite nervous in the beginning, but the longer we were shooting the more fun I had. Erotic, mind you, not pornographic.

So, you’d undress for Playgirl?

Not anymore [laughs]. Although probably not before either. I do have a pretty easy going relationship with my body and run around naked in my apartment alot, but then I am not that exhibitionistic that I'd strip for some glossy magazine.

So you’re a at-home nudist.

Yeah, that's an east thing, I think. When I opened my apartment door in New York naked once when the door rang while I was in bed with my then wife, she was completely bewildered. The shameless ossis (east germans) and the prudish americans - that was a meeting of the worlds. [laughs]

Are you vain?

Unfortunately, yes. I'd like to be more above that because vanity is a negative quality that has something to do with insecurity and ego. I work on myself and as I got older I luckily developed a more casual attitude. At some point you start to accept the degredation of the body.

Theoretically you could counteract that with plastic surgery. How about an appointment with Nip/Tuck, hm?

That's not something for me, but I don't have anything against plastic surgery. If people are unhappy with their body and gain new self esteem and sense of life through an operation, they should go through with it. I do see a problem in the danger of it getting exorbitant and to develop some kind of addiction like with tattoos that goes far beyond the reasonable. The body won't go along with everythig after all, and such things as calf implants are pretty crazy.

Speaking of crazy, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

That must have been asking a woman to marry me two days after meeting her. She said yes, and the rest is history. (They are divorced at this point, as the article points out here - in brackets too.)

Cue: Woman: What type do you prefer?

Like almost everyone I do have some sort of type. You need a relationship that mirrors yourself and to develop. So in that sense you're looking for a partner that drives you forward in certain aspects. To have a good relationship you need to keep a balance of passion and friendship - if it's just one it will overturn at some point.

What do you think of groupies?

They just belong to it all. This symbiosis of star and groupie is like theater. The relationship between both has of course nothing to do with reality, and is just an illusion, but you shouldn't destroy that. I'm personally not really tempted by groupies because I like it when I have to fight for a woman. But I like the glamour their presence emenates.

Do you believe in god or reincarnation? Are you spiritaully inclined?

More and more. I don't believe in god in a church sense, but I'm a spiritual guy and believe in a form of justice; that the things we do come back to us in some way eventually. Karma, so to speak. I also have the slightly feminine habit of using astrology to understand people. I use it as a tool to decipher characters. Once you know how someone's house is build, it's easier to place their actions. To be clear: I don't mean horoscopes or such nonsense. There's alot of maths in astrology and you can't compare that with the usual star-sign pulp in TV programmes.

Could you live without television?

Nah. I have a huge beamer in my New York apartment's bedroom. I love lying in bed, smoking and watching good movies more than anything. That is the only thing where I can really switch of other than sex. Lots of both, please. [laughs]

Reading isn't your thing?

I used to read alot, but now I'm unfortunately too lazy for it most of the time. Even on the plane you get a monitor and a huge selection of movies since a while now. But I still have a good reading recommendation: The New York trilogy by Paul Auster.

What's the most important invention for human kind?

Each century has it's own big invention and right now that is clearly the internet. Before that it was electricity, which made everything else like the light bulb and the elctric guitar even possible.

To which era would you most like to travel if there was a time machine?

I guess the sword and blade time as I always call it. Knights templar, 11th century. I can answer that this well, because I like to watch even stupid movies when they deal with that period. I just have a huge affinity to it somehow and would love to find out how things were going back then.

Do you have a phobia?

Other than the aforementioned fear of heights I have a phobia of snakes.

When did you cry the last time?

Now you got me. That is a huge problem of mine because I just can't cry. I think that is a pity myself, because crying is an outlet with which you let grief go. Maybe that's why my music is so important to me, it's like my tear duct and helps me to live out my feelings.

——————-

- sorry for any spelling mistakes but I’m dyslexci and I can’t be bothered.

[lanonima]

Here we are again.

Romantic - Fucky is not how risque a work is but rather my opinion of the attitude/quality of the main relationship, the way the characters interact with respect to one another. I like a lot of stuff in fiction but if you’re easily made uncomfortable, stay towards the top half.

Easy reading - Plot-heavy is how I personally consider the plot’s intricacy and successful implementation, regardless of the author’s intention.

Golden Stage

Author: Cang Wu Bin Bai

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: This one has some Sha Po Lang vibes, but the characters have more depth and chemistry. The word 'more' here is extremely relative because it's still pretty shallow. I honestly liked them both, I liked the relationship and the psuedo-rude way that they flirt entertained me. As for the plot...ehhhh. It tried. There were things that worked, but in general the plot seemed disjointed from the characters and there were a few things that had no business being there and just muddied the waters. It's not bad necessarily, it's just not very smooth. There are better political intrigues to read if that's what you want. But if you just want some sugar-sweet fluff with a backdrop of drama, then this one is perfect. My favorite scene was probably the flashback to the first few times they met, absolutely fantastic.

Would I read it again: Nah.

The reviews of things I previously read are below the cut.

Mo Dao Zu Shi

Author: MXTX

Quality: 9.5

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have a huge emotional connection to this novel. There are some weak parts, the tension isn’t quite even, she’s pretty terrible at erotic scenes and not great at fight scenes…but that being said, I love the characters and some of the plot points really ripped my heart out. This is a novel that’s really driven by the characters so if you’re a character-focused person like me, definitely look into it (as if we all don’t already know it lmao). I really, really love this story. Every single adaptation of it has also been great, but the novel is still my favorite. It was my introduction to xianxia novels too, so you can say it changed my life!

Would I read it again: I’ve already read it twice, and consumed every adaptation (sometimes also multiple times)

Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Author: MXTX

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I’m not much of one for comedy and, as I discovered, not really into system novels either. Clearly weaker than MXTX’s later work, many of the characters are somewhat bland, she hasn’t quite found her groove yet. It’s not my style but the fandom is hilarious and the fans constantly produce content that I actually do find entertaining so overall I still have some fond feelings for this one, even if not for the source material.

Would I read it again: I found a different translation and am willing to try again in the future, I’m also willing to watch the donghua. But I can’t guarantee I’ll like it any more than previously.

Tian Guan Ci Fu

Author: MXTX

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I love this book…but not as much as I love Mo Dao Zu Shi. I think the plot is somewhat typical, however the characters are great once again (though maybe slightly less deep than MDZS), and her use of thematic repetition and foreshadowing are killer. Actually, I liked this book more the second time around because it just hits differently. Definitely the best of MXTX’s couples, they are so soft and sweet. Very long, but worth it.

Would I read it again: I already have, was personally translating the manhua before I hurt my arms, and am eagerly awaiting the donghua this fall!

The Villain’s White Lotus Halo

Author: A Big Roll of Toilet Paper

Quality: 10

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: Fuck, I love this one so much…..even though it’s also a system novel. But that part is in it so rarely that it reads more like pure fantasy. I love the characters, I love the plot, I love the way the relationship is developing. Oh yeah, the translation isn’t even complete but I already purchased not only the original from JJWXC but also the print edition. I’ve even drawn fanart for it, which is so unlike me. Every time a chapter comes out, I’m ruined for the rest of the day, I can’t think about anything else. Good fight scenes, which is uncommon. My favorite danmei novel so far.

Would I read it again: I fully intend to once the translation is complete, and also plan to read it in Chinese later (I’ve already read certain parts in Chinese hahaha but not the whole thing)

2Ha (Husky and his White Cat Shizun)

Author: Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: 2Ha is not for the faint of heart, it’s very horny, and violent, and has a lot of questionable content. However I love it so much. The story and characters are great, Meatbun really has me by the heart. The writing is a little more on the casual side but it hardly matters because the story is so great. Good fight scenes. Chu Wanning is like, the ultimate Me™ character, I hate how much I adore him. If you read this, just go into it knowing that it’s a long emotional journey, the characters are very dynamic and there’s a lot of character development.

Would I read it again: Same as the above, I plan a reread when the translation is done and have read parts in Chinese and might read the whole thing again later. Cautiously eager about the up-coming live action and donghua.

Di Wang Gong Lue

Author: Yu Xiao Lanshan

Quality: 2

Enjoyment: 9

Comments: This is one of the most terribly written things I’ve ever read, but I’m a character girl and the characters and ways they interact fucking kill me. I’m constantly entertained….although I don’t think this is actually supposed to be a comedy. If I were going to treat myself and like, take a bubble bath and read something that made me laugh, this is exactly the sort of trashy romance I would want to read. Technically a political intrigue story but it’s so abrupt and full of holes, are any of us reading it for the actual plot? The donghua is on Youtube, I watched it first and recommend others to do the same. If you can handle that, you can handle the book because it’s exactly the same in quality, just gayer. I do love the main couple a lot, the set-up surrounding the relationship is great, and the side characters are also really fun.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but I’m still having fun with it. I watched the donghua and read a bit of the manhua as well, which has very cute art and is probably my favorite version of the story.

Liu Yao

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 7.5

Comments: I really struggled getting into this one, it took me about 25 chapters to get invested. Initially I had rated it a 6 in enjoyment but after careful thought, I realized that even though it was so hard for me, it probably is my favorite Priest novel and I really do love the main couple so much. Her side characters also seem to be slightly stronger than usual in this one. Decent plot, not too much or too little. It seems really chill to me, doesn’t provoke much of an emotional reaction but I do think it’s very sweet, which is nice sometimes too.

Would I read it again: No, but I think (?) it’s supposed to get some kind of tv adaptation (drama or donghua, not sure), and if that happens, I’ll watch it.

Didn’t Know the General was Female

Author: Rong Qing

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: Not the greatest thing I’ve ever read, but cute. It’s short, and a little lesbian fluff is never a bad thing. Writing is a bit weak and the plot is basic, but the characters are enjoyable and I liked it overall.

Would I read it again: No.

Wrong Way to a Demon Sect Leader

Author: Yi Zhi Dayan

Quality: 4

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Again, not the greatest in writing or plot, it’s a bit shallow. But I found the idea of it to be entertaining, and actually liked it more than I would have assumed. It’s fairly short and cute, like a good summer beach read.

Would I read it again: Probably not, but possibly, if the stars align.

Female General and Eldest Princess

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 6

Comments: A very good first effort, but the writing is a bit weak. It’s slow to start and I don’t think the political plotline is spectacularly strong. Some things were left unexplained, and her sense of battle tactics and fight-writing were very confusing, definitely room for improvement. I don’t think it’s as good as people say, but she writes with the air of someone who will continue to improve. And also, a lesbian author writing lesbian stories so that’s a plus. Overall I enjoyed the experience, this story is definitely worth a read.

Would I read it again: Maybe, but probably not.

Sha Po Lang

Author: Priest

Quality: 7

Enjoyment: 7

Comments: Originally I rated this one higher, but on later thought I realized that I actually enjoyed Liu Yao more. I personally have issues with the way Priest writes, and this book showed a lot of them. Characters were okay, I did like the main couple, but side characters were weak as usual. The plot is pretty good, though not great, and I think some of the pacing is off. Some descriptions were confusing, but that could be a translation issue. Overall, still a pretty good political drama, but I would say that of the three I read, this was the Priest novel with the least impact on me.

Would I read it again: No. But I will watch the live action if it ever gets made.

Guardian

Author: Priest

Quality: 6

Enjoyment: 5

Comments: I love Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan, thought the plot was interesting, and there were some enjoyable moments. But it has all the problems I usually have with Priest in addition to some choices that offend me as a queer reader. I spent about 75% of the time reading while pissed off. And actually the fact that it had a happy ending kinda bummed me out because I love a good tragedy. Overall, I can only give it an average score. If you like Priest, you’ll like this one too. I’m not a tv person but I binged the hell out of the live action, I really loved it, so I was sort of disappointed that the source material didn’t seem as strong as I had assumed.

Would I read it again: No, but I will happily watch the live action again some day.

Jing Wei Qing Shang

Author: Please Don’t Laugh

Quality: 9.8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: I have to start off by saying: damn girl. The improvement evident in this book is absolutely insane. A few minor issues prevent me from giving it a 10 out of 10 – her transitions are still extremely abrupt, the ending is slightly weak and some plot points remain unresolved, and her use of narrative repetition is too heavy-handed for my taste. Other than that, this book leaves me almost speechless. Very similar to Female General and Eldest Princess, there are many similar themes and events. But while I thought FGEP was fairly cute, I like this one way better. If you like angst, political intrigue, and lesbians, you should definitely read this book. I have no doubt that Please Don’t Laugh will continue to improve in the future, and I really look forward to following her career.

Would I read it again: 100%, I absolutely intend to read this again sometime in the future. It’s very long and very dense but delightful and ultimately worth it.

Fox Demon Cultivation Manual

Author: Feng Ge Qie Xing

Quality: 8

Enjoyment: 10

Comments: This was a delightful romp. I had expected it to be somewhat silly and was pleasantly surprised. It was heavy enough to be engaging but light enough to be an easy read, with multiple spots that made me literally laugh out loud which does not happen often. This is apparently just one book in a series of same universe novels, and a lighter-hearted one at that. I would be interested to read the others because I found the world pretty engaging, and I do want to know what became of the other characters. Overall I found it very fun and very cute, I read it in four days so that says something. On the downside, the link for chapter 9 is broken. But skipping a chapter doesn’t seem to have affected the experience of the novel as a whole.

Would I read it again: Yeah I think I would be willing to read this again someday. If it gets adapted I would also consume adaptations, in addition to being interested in the other connected works.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Evanescence: “Guitarists need to be honest. Use your voice. We don’t need fake – we need humanity and real people”

Jen Majura and Troy McLawhorn wax lyrical on the high-octane gear, influences and themes behind the band's upcoming fifth album, The Bitter Truth

The Bitter Truth, the fifth full-length from Evanescence set for release in March 2021, will be their first album of new material in a decade. The American arena group led by singer/keyboardist Amy Lee had already released three singles, though the record’s completion was stalled by the virus pandemic that dominated headlines for much of the year.

The first sessions took place at the beginning of 2020 with rock super producer Nick Raskulinecz [Foo Fighters, Rush, Alice In Chains] in his Nashville studio, spawning the tracks we’ve heard so far – Wasted On You, The Game Is Over and Use My Voice. Then, of course, came Covid, putting an end to safe travel and forcing virtually all plans to change.

For the members in America, it was incredibly problematic. For German guitarist Jen Majura, who joined in 2015, it was an absolute nightmare. Nevertheless, the group kept chiseling away and fleshing out their parts for album number five.

When Guitar World tracks down Majura and co-guitarist Troy McLawhorn towards the end of 2020, things are still very much in the process of being finalized...

Looking back now, that session in Nashville must feel like a very long time ago!

Majura: “Definitely! What hit me so hard was that we’d recorded that first chunk of songs and waved goodbye at the airport, thinking we’d be back in a couple of weeks. And then suddenly this pandemic hit, airports were all shut!

“I had never felt more apart from my friends in the States than since this all started. It’s so unnatural for me not to be there! I’m very old-school – I like my tube amp and 4x12 cabinet. I like to sit in the studio with the humans I’m working with and creating in the moment.

“Being away from Amy and the boys while working on material has felt so unnatural to me, but that’s the we have to do it and we have to make the best out of it. The time we spent with Nick in Nashville was the happiest ever.

“It felt amazing to see these songs coming to life – you have this idea but when you are all in a room creating, things change and become better, you end up trying out different ways. It’s such a vibrant and beautiful way of working. But I get it, there’s this thing called corona, so you know…”

This will be your first album working together on new material. How do you go about splitting guitar parts?

McLawhorn: “Whenever we’re jamming, if someone comes up with up something cool, they play it. There’s no set thing. So far I’ve probably played the majority of the lead guitar – if Jen comes up with something she is always welcome to play whatever it is. It’s a good working relationship. The first batch of songs, the first three that came out, were done in one session before the coronavirus hit. We were all together for those ones.

“But then Jen flew home back to Germany and we were supposed to tour in Europe, but it all got cancelled. Everything we’ve done since then has been without Jen with us, we’ve been kinda flying sessions back and forth. I probably played a lot of the guitar on the album, but she’s been coming up with cool ideas and putting her stamp on it too.”

The Game Is Over definitely feels like the heavier side of Evanescence…

McLawhorn: “There’s a lot of good stuff like that on this one, stuff that people will be surprised by maybe. There’s a fair amount of that aggressive type of music, but it’s a good mixture. So far everyone’s heard the lighter side of the album, like Use My Voice and Wasted On You… but then there’s The Game Is Over. It was a lot of fun to play and there’s more heavy stuff on there too!”

Majura: “That bridge is so heavy, I love it! It’s going back to the real rock roots and having lots of fun. When you have a low-tuned guitar you have to be a bit careful – you can’t just smash your strings but they will warp a bit.

“I remember forcing myself, especially during the bridge, to play gentle even though it had this badass attitude. It took me a couple of takes… the first ones were completely out of tune [laughs]!”

Jen, it must have been a rollercoaster five years for you. How did you end up getting the gig?

Majura: “What happened was that I was playing bass in another band, not really being happy as I’m a guitar player. We happened to play two festivals, one in Germany and one in the Czech Republic. And it turns out Testament were playing the same days as us.

“I’m a huge Alex Skolnick fan, so we ended up talking and keeping in touch. A couple of days later, I got this very mysterious email from him saying, ‘Jen! Some friends of mine are going to contact you and I can’t reveal too much but I think it’s something you should say yes to!’ I was wondering what the hell he was talking about…

“And then a day later, I got this email from Evanescence’s management asking if I would be interested in… and I didn’t even finish reading the email. I just immediately replied ‘Yes!’ and sent it. That was a total no-brainer.

“So this was around July 2015 and the next evening I was on the phone with Amy talking. She invited me to come visit her in New York and hang out. I thought, ‘Okay… cool!’ and three days later I was on a plane flying to fuckin’ New York wondering if this was really happening. It was insane.”

Did you bring your guitar?

Majura: “I didn’t! I asked her if I needed to bring one and she said, ‘Nah, I know you can play, I’ve seen plenty of videos – let’s just hang out!’ And that’s exactly what we did for the next three days. Hanging out, long walks and talks, going out for dinner or to a concert. Becoming friends and getting to know each other on a more human relationship kind of base.

“I realize now that’s the biggest deal when you have to replace a member. A band is a family. I’d like to quote Rob Zombie on that, because he said it in the movie Hired Gun!

“Finding a good player is the easy part – the world is full of virtuosos. You also need someone who can commit to touring, being on the road and that whole lifestyle. The third and last thing, also the toughest, is that you need people you can stand hanging out with 24/7.

“Concerts are only 90 minutes – what about all the other hours in the day? You need to all fit together. Within those first few days with Amy, I realized we both had a strong work ethic and know exactly what we want, which is beautiful.

“She’s a very strong character. I appreciate her musicality and personality too, she quickly became one of my best friends because we laughed about the same things and then figured out we both love Sex and the City [laugh]! I am so grateful and thankful to have experienced everything I have with her and the boys.”

Troy, you’ve been a member of Seether and filled in for Sevendust on some tours, but you’ve been an on/off member of Evanescence for over a decade now…

McLawhorn: “Yeah, to be honest, I never really left Evanescence. We have big breaks between albums. When I did my first tour with the band, Amy told me she was taking a long break, probably around four or five years. I just went out to find something to do in the meantime and ended up playing in Seether for a few years…

“When it was time for me to leave, it coincided with Amy being ready to do another album. And it was a huge coincidence. I ended up in New York and went to Amy’s house. I was having trouble in Seether and wasn’t happy there, and she said she’d love me to come work on the new album. That’s how it all went down.

“There seems to be some pretty long breaks in between albums with this band but I think that’s part of Amy’s creative process. She likes to take her time when she’s writing the lyrics. The final product always turns out really nice that way, so why mess with it?”

What can you tell us about the gear responsible for the guitar sounds on this album?

Majura: “I signed up with Synergy Amps in November last year. When I joined, I think Steve Vai was the only big name working with them, but I figured if it’s Steve Vai it’s gotta be fucking great. So I went over to check their amp out and I was very skeptical. It looks like a tube amp but with all these holes and parts missing!

“But I plugged in, hit one chord and realized it was actually phenomenal. They’ve sent all the different modules to me, like the Diezel, and the perfect solution for me was the Friedman HBE. It has the perfect rock and roll sound for my solos but it also has the mighty depth of high-gain stuff too – which are all frequencies you need for Evanescence.

“I was originally expecting I’d go with the Diezel one, but the Friedman felt more right for me. I’m very open-minded when it comes to technology. You have two modules, each with two channels, so you get a four-channel amp made out of your favorites.

“For example, I could combine a Vox AC30 Brian May sound with a Diezel VH4. It’s phenomenal what they’ve managed to open up for us musicians in terms of sound options. It’s been my tour rig and studio rig ever since.”

McLawhorn: “I used a combination of different things on this album. On The Game Is Over, it was basically my live setup which is an Orange Rockerverb 100, with an analog pedalboard.

“A big part of the tone I get from the amp comes down to a 10-band EQ I use to boost the mids on the lead channel. That’s about it – I don’t really use overdrive pedals or anything like that and probably use less gain than most modern guitarists. I almost use EQ to find a modern sound, instead of more gain.

“I also have a Fractal Axe-Fx III, which I’ve used here and there on the album, especially for clean parts – it’s really good for that. I’ve done some overdubs with the II as well, stuff that has a lot of effects or sounds really wet – Axe-Fx is great for that, too. I also have a 1969 Marshall Superbass 100 which we split with a Bogner Ecstasy or Uberschall, and used for the rhythm tracks on a couple of songs.”

And how about for guitars?

Majura: “I’ve been with Ibanez for many years now and I’m very happy. They deliver the most perfect instruments. You pick up an instrument and either like it or not. Some of them seem to instantly merge with your system – you become one – and that is true of most Ibanez guitars, at least for me.

“Of course I’ve played Les Pauls and other things, but they’re really not my style. I have so many Ibanez guitars now. I think the AZ series was such a smart move – the family is even bigger and better now… Look at players like Tim Henson, who is just amazing. He makes me feel so old. He’ll be nailing it and I’m at home just playing along to AC/DC or something!

“For pedals, I stick with the Line 6 Helix pedalboard because I remember at my first rehearsal in 2015, they would tell me certain parts would need a chorus or flanger or this or that. At the end of the rehearsal I had a battery of pedals in front of me and realized I couldn’t do it. I’ve never been a pedal dancer. I went to Line 6 asking for a solution and they were just about to come out with the Helix… it was perfect.”

McLawhorn: “I was using a baritone PRS SE. I changed the pickups out, but that’s it – I love the guitar and how it plays. I tried a few different sets, most by Seymour Duncan. One of my seven-strings has a Seymour that my tech put in on the road and I don’t know which one it is! He just found it in my guitar coffin and asked if we should throw it in. It stayed for the rest of the tour – it was probably a JB, who knows!

“But the one on the record is the Distortion (SH-6). I really like how they sound. At first, they were a little hot for what I like – I tend to prefer somewhere in between modern metal and classic rock. It felt like really high gain, way too much, especially when switching from my other guitars. But he really lowered the pickup down and that fixed everything, making everything super-tight and adding some nice mids.”

Use My Voice has a really powerful message behind it…

Majura: “Yes! Another thing that connects me and Amy very strongly is that we both went through moments in our careers where males would tell us, ‘You’re just a girl – what do you know?’ It’s time for strong women – in rock or wherever – to stand up and say being good at a craft has nothing to do with gender. It’s been happening for way too long.

“That feeling of our voices being suppressed needs to change, because every voice matters. We’re all the same. It does not matter if you are male or female or transgender… humans are humans. I think we should spend more time understanding why we’re the same. Use My Voice is an important message for women to stand up and be heard.”

Where do you think your influences differ as guitar players?

Majura: “The first guitar hero I had at around 10 or 11 was Steve Vai. He was so revolutionary in terms of what he’s done for the guitar world, both sound-wise and crafts-wise. Electric guitar wouldn’t be what it is today without Steve Vai.

“I respect him so much for how he feels and talks through his instrument. He’s influenced my thinking about a lot of things. He’s an amazing person, not just an amazing musician.

“Then I got into Nuno Bettencourt, who plays for the sake of the song instead of showing off. Which is what I tried to do on my first solo album, Inzenity, everyone expected a shred album and it wasn’t. I played for the song. If it didn’t require a guitar solo then fine, I’d just leave it. I didn’t need to prove to the world how good I was.

“Nuno also has the percussive style of playing, which brings this tone that I really like. And finally, Angus Young. I’ve been playing in an AC/DC tribute band for four years and I love his playing.”

McLawhorn: “A lot of them for me were the classic players while I was growing up. So Ace Frehley for sure… KISS were like Slipknot for us who grew up in the '70s [laughs]! Then there’s Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix. Tony Iommi as well, he was a massive influence on me as a kid.

“Eddie Van Halen was a huge influence on me, too – it was very sad that we lost him so early and so young. When Van Halen came out, I started taking guitar very seriously. The bluesy side of his playing always appealed to me but he also had all that technical prowess, too. A very inspiring guitar player for so many people.”

What advice can you offer anyone out there hoping to become a good session player?

McLawhorn: “You need to know how to communicate with people. I’ve done sessions with some Nashville guys that have this shorthand way of writing music. Reading music and knowing theory is always important… I wish I knew more myself.

“It puts you at ease walking into a session knowing you read and play anything back. I can’t really do that – I just really really listen and learn things by memory. I can read some music but that’s going back to trumpet at high school [laughs]. So I rely on communication always!”

Majura: “I think guitar players need to be honest. Use your voice. Be real. Be pure. We don’t need fake, we need humanity and real people. What I love about people like Mattias IA Eklundh is he’s just himself. He’s pure and innovative in a really interesting way.

“I’ve gotten to know guys like him, Guthrie Govan, Richie Kotzen and Jeff Waters – they’re all awesome and very honest players. I think one should never think one has seen it all and learned it all.

“We need to keep in mind we’re all on a journey in search of becoming better. In terms of advice, I always have to say being open to different styles is so important. There’s something to learn every day. You should never stop trying to improve to make the world a better place. You should never stop learning… that’s what makes you human.”

[ocular-intercourse]

2, 3, 7,8, 11,12, 13, 18, 21, 23, 27, and 31 for Ace!!!

thank uu he’s talked about too little 

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?

To be truly unlikeable. Not the front he puts out there to make sure to never learn if people would actually hate him. If he ever were to show to people who he is under all of it. If he doesn’t show it and acts actively unlikable he can at least pretend it’s justified and under his control. I think he does hide it pretty well. He’s just unapproachable, but he does not seem unhappy with it. If he’d sit in a corner bitter and angrily people would maybe suspect. But nah, he’s just a weird guy, class clown, too aloof to care. (He does though, care, very much.)

03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?

He actually likes his broad build. Since he’s kinda small for a dude he can at least seem kinda intimidating if he’d set out to be. Other people would maybe be a bit insecure about it since he tends to gain weight easily but he doesn’t care so much. Cause he knows his body and what it’s capable of, it’s done him good deeds. Sturdy.

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

Not a sound he makes with his mouth, but with every other part of his body probably. Give him a pen and he’ll find a way to make sounds with it. Usually they are pretty melodious though. There’s always a soundtrack running in the back of his mind. When he’s concentrated or spacing out he’ll just tap along with it. He is very good at being quiet though, if he has to be. In fact his constant producing of sound is pretty convenient for that and it might be part of why he does it. The more people associate him with being noisy the less they are expecting him to be quiet.

08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

Ah. His brother complex. The guy has pretty much shaped every aspect of Ace’s being and then turned around and betrayed him. And Ace cannot accept it. He still believes there has to be some sort of explanation that would make it all okay and Dale just had no way of letting him know, for whatever reason. He tried to kill him, but he didn’t, see?!! That has to mean something! He is completely blind to every bad thing Dale has ever done to him, which have subjectively been a lot. And he will not listen to people implying things; he just refuses to believe that he’d been subjected to any sort of abuse. In his worst nights Ace is very much aware of it, but pushes the thought away very quickly. He’s not obsessed with his brother! And if he were it would be for good reason, because his brother is fucking radical.

11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

Said badmouthing of his brother. But also just any type of situation where people try to be authoritarian and have control over his actions. If he does not want to do something, or rather if he does not agree or understand why he should do something, he won’t. Needless to say he’s no teacher’s favorite.

12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?

Is bothering people a skill? He just.. can’t stop.. pushing and prodding, being annoying, trolling people on- and offline. He likes to provoke, he refuses to conform. Second to that probably making music, ripping stuff apart and putting it together in new ways, audio collages in a way, remixes. He is a little compulsive about it. Interrupting conversations to record a certain sound and things like that.

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

He’s not a bad sleeper actually, his sleep cycle is just not exactly regular. It’s in his blood, he’s a child of the night, it’s when he feels best. It’s just not super convenient for regular life. It kinda works out though since his life is not really regular. He lives in an environment that knows about his and his half-siblings needs, so he does not have to make excuses at the very least. Of course it’s still kinda frowned upon. His most natural sleep cycle is probably from 6 a.m. to 1 p.m., he can do 3 a.m. to 9 a.m. though, for convenience. When he does sleep though, he’s out, like world going down around him no reaction kind of sleep. He talks in his sleep sometimes, but mostly just incoherent stuff, words by themselves. Snores when he sleeps on his back, good thing he likes to sleep pretty much trying to crawl into the mattress, face planted into the pillow. Ppl that have shared the bed with him, Dale, Ben, Ellie, might have feared for his life here and there, thinking he might choke himself to death, especially cause he can get very still and quiet when he’s really out. The biggest annoyance between him and his partners is probably the timing though, trying to find times that work for everybody. Ben tried to help out with his powers, sleep is his domain after all, but Ace is very unhappy with the thought of someone using their abilities on him, taking control away.

18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode?

Any home that has running water, electricity, internet and not too much mold is a-okay with him. He grew up in a shitty environment. In an apartment that was falling apart and too small for two people to live in it, with bills not paid a little too often. They made do, of course, Ace has no bad feelings about the time (oh sweet denial). But a place for himself, nothing special at all, would seem incredibly luxurious to him. He’s not entirely aware how much that need is somewhere buried in his conscience. It would most definitely have to be in the city though, he needs the noise.

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

oh god. there’d be a lot of easy answers, having to do with his brother, or losing control, but really i think it’s actually just.. being seen, and seeing clearly himself. he is so entangled in this big web of deceiving others and himself, he got kinda lost in it. i think his mind only, ever so gently, tugs on the awareness of all of this but by now he’s terrified of untangling all of it, looking at the truth, and disliking what he sees

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved?

like I said, ace is not exactly popular among teachers and the like. he’s disruptive, he talks back, his attendance is spotty, especially in the morning hours, and, worst of all, the things he does agree to working on are actually pretty well done. unconventional maybe, from time to time, but the kid is actually, regrettably, not stupid. which is probably the only reason he hasn’t gotten into too much trouble yet, hasn’t had to redo a year or anything, he does just enough, and those things well enough, to get by. not on top of the class, but that is never his goal ayways. he probably enjoys this equilibrium of perfect teacher annoyance, they don’t give up on him but they do wish he gave them a proper reason to, to free them from this peril.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

Loitering? Vandalism, malicious destruction of property. Not enough for a serious charge, but a handful of misdemeanors. He probably actually has been picked up by the police before, being young and stupid and wild. Dale is pretty excellent at handling these kinds of situations though, so Ace never had to worry too much.

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what?

He did kill, though he probably did not stick around long enough to confirm anything. When the academy was attacked he fought to protect himself and others, he made sure people would not be able to continue fighting and did not think much more about it. But those were in self-defense. A hard thing, but necessary. He can handle that, now that it is done and he was forced to do it. He likes to believe he would not have a problem killing people either way. He likes to believe he could kill his brother, if it would come to a point where he learns Dale is not redeemable. He likes to believe he’d be able to kill people for the right reasons. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. He was kicked out of the bad guy club Dale joined exactly for this reason. He’s too good at heart, too weak to do what’s necessary in their eyes. He has no memory of it, so he’s not exactly aware of his own hidden heroism.

[solastia]

Feels So Right  | 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1,493 (I know it’s pretty short, but I literally wrote this on my phone at work. The next chapter will be longer) 

Summary: Yoongi’s falling in love with his neighbor. She’s beautiful, talented, has the same sense of humor, great taste in music - and she’s married.

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, domestic violence(all from the male OC, not our main characters). Infidelity. Eventual smut.

Notes: Commissioned by @ehn-ee-elle

Yoongi stared at the cast-covered right hand of his main guitarist, feeling a lovely blend of various emotions that ranged from shock to utter despair. He loved the guy, he really did, but at this moment he wanted to do nothing more than beat him with the nearest object available. 

“The track is due in two weeks. That thing stays on for how long?” Yoongi glared at the offending vibrant pink cast. Who over the age of twelve picks that color for a fucking cast? 

The guitarist shrugs sheepishly, “About six weeks. I’m sorry, man.” 

Yoongi sighs wearily as he runs a hand down his face. 

“I know, it’s not like you bashed it up on purpose. Just make sure you get your notes together for whoever I find to fill in for you.” 

Once he’s alone in his studio again, he drops his face onto his desk, groaning loudly. Sure, he was the best producer this company had - in his own humble opinion - but even he can acknowledge how impossible finding a guitarist with similar skill would be in two freaking weeks. 

But that’s a problem for tomorrow Yoongi. Today Yoongi is going home. 

***

He had just started putting the finishing touches on his dinner when the first notes of an acoustic guitar trickled through the thin walls. He held his breathe for a moment as he tried to make out what she was playing, since he could usually base her moods off of that. He snorts as he identifies the upbeat tones of Here comes the sun by the Beatles. She’s obviously in a good mood and her prick of a husband is probably “away on business” again. 

He’d become friends with Y/N during the past three months of her living here, at least as much friends as they could be when the only time he could interact with her was when they were walking their dogs or when her husband was away. He guessed the man was the type to get jealous really easily, probably due to knowing from personal experience just how easy it is to cheat. Not that Yoongi believed she ever would; if anything, she was too loyal. 

Still, they’d managed to maintain an odd sort of friendship after finding out how much they had in common. They had similar tastes in music (for the most part. He was still highly offended that she liked The Chainsmokers), a similar sense of humor, same taste in television...he could go on. There were times when his traitorous mind whispered words like soulmates in his head, but all he had to do was remember that shiny gold band on her finger to shut that shit down. 

Yoongi sighed went back to finishing up his stew. He had other things to worry about right now other than his idiotic crush on a married woman. He was just pulling out the side dishes he was going to have for dinner when she suddenly switched songs to something fast and complex. He wasn’t sure what it was but he thought he remembered hearing it on Pirates of the Caribbean. He grinned as he imagined her fingers flying on the strings, maybe sending him a little grin because she was damn good and she knew it.

Yoongi groaned aloud at his stupidity when he finally realized it, because he’d been freaking out all day about finding a guitarist when the answer was literally right next door. He quickly packed up his dinner, glad that he always made extra to take for lunch the next day. He packed it all up in a bag to lug next door and called for Holly. 

When he knocked on the door he didn’t have to wait long for the music to stop and for Potato to start barking at the door like the little asshole he was. His Holly would never. 

She opened the door and her expression quickly went from confused to happy, making Yoongi preen a bit on the inside that he was the one to cause that smile. 

“Yoongi and Mr. Holly! To what do I owe the pleasure? Was I being too loud?” 

“Nah, you know I don’t mind the music as long as it’s actually good,” Yoongi smirked as she giggled, then lifted up the bag in his hands. “I made a lot of dinner. Thought since you were alone today I’d save you from having to cook.” 

Her eyebrow quirked as she gestured for them to come in, Potato already running circles around Holly. 

“How’d you know it was an alone night?” 

“You played “Here comes the sun.” You always play an upbeat Beatles song when he’s out of town.” 

“Huh,” she mused, like the fact that her husband being out of town making her happy was news. Yoongi wished he could say something about what that meant without coming off like a nosy dick. 

“So what’d you make me?” She peers cutely over his shoulder as he pulls containers out and begins plating. 

“Galbi Jjim. Just don’t let the mutt know he’s eating his namesake when you’re sneaking his potato bits under the table.” 

“I would never,” she grins, turning to pull out silverware and glasses. 

“Your dog is not a fatass by mistake.” 

“Potato, cover your ears. You don’t need to hear this slander.” 

Yoongi snorts and brings to heaping bowls of stew to the table, purposely ignoring the giant wedding photo above it. He’d already inspected it a few too many times; his wayward imagination often envisioning himself next to the beaming beauty draped in ivory lace. 

He smiles softly as she enthusiastically eats the food he made, every now and then releasing a pleased moan that made his pants feel a little tight. 

“There’s dessert after this too. A walnut tart and some good coffee if you want.” 

She finishes chewing as her eyes narrow. “Wait. You mean the Saint Helena Coffee that I distinctly remember you saying you wouldn’t even let your own mother try? Min Yoongi, why do I get the feeling this is a bribe meal?” 

“Can’t I just make you a meal without wanting something?” 

“If this was just the meal I would have never suspected. But your $200 a bag coffee? Never. Spill.” 

Yoongi sighs and grins sheepishly. “Fine, you caught me. So...I’m a producer, as you know.” 

She quirks her eyebrow and waves to signal ‘go on you slow asshole.’ 

“My main guitarist messed up his wrist and is in a cast for six weeks. Problem is, we have a track that’s up for review in two weeks that isn’t anywhere near finished, thanks to my own perfectionism. I need a guitarist and you’re incredibly talented. Be forewarned that I’m kind of an asshole to work with, because everything has to be just right, but I would really owe you. Oh, and of course I’d pay you.” 

Her eyes were wide with shock as she listened, finally stuttering out,” I just play as a hobby, Yoongi. You literally make stuff for famous people.” 

“If that’s your only worry, I can tell you right now that your skill is on par with anyone else working with me. I’ve heard you play Jimi Hendrix effortlessly. A simple ballad is going to be no issue for you.” 

She sighs and sends him a grin as she shakes her head. “Do you have the sheet music?” 

Yoongi smirks triumphantly and jumps up to grab the notes from his bag. He hands them to her, watching anxiously as she looks them over. Finally, she nods and glances up at him. 

“Seems easy enough. When do you want me?” 

Yoongi sighs in relief. “Whenever you’re next available. Tomorrow would be ideal. We can see how it sounds in the studio and figure out if you need time to practice. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to record in one take, but knowing myself I wouldn’t count on it.”  

She nods, “I can do tomorrow. Should I bring my guitar, or use the one there?” 

“Yours is good. You should use an instrument you’re familiar with.” 

“Good. Now I believe you owe me expensive coffee.” 

Yoongi laughs as she tugs him into the kitchen. 

“That I do.” 

As they enjoy their dessert together, Y/N spends the time asking about the song and trying to get a feel for the emotions behind it so she would know how to play. Yoongi did his best, describing the sense of melancholy and wonderment behind the words without giving himself away. Words of adoration and every other emo emotion that Yoongi felt poured onto paper. 

Words about her.

[hamonsurveysoverdrive]

Quintessential

Have you thought about an ex today???? Yeah, the kids' dad. Could you handle a long distance relationship??? Probably not. What are you listening to right now? Nothing. Does the last person you held hands with mean a lot to you? Yes. Is it easy for others to make you feel awkward?? Not really. Do you know anybody who was abused?? Yes. Do you know anyone named Tom? Yes. Who was the last person that said "i love you" to you? My kiddos. How many people do you know with your name? One. Where did you get the underwear you are wearing right now? Target. How do you feel about the person who texted you last? She's awesome. Have you kissed someone in the past 24 hours???? Yepp. If you could change your eye color what would you change it to? Grey. Have you kissed anyone whose name started with S? Yepp. Do you have someone who you can be your complete self around??? Yes, several someones. Is this year the best year of your life?? 2020 is no one's best year. Do you have any strange phobias?? Yes. Do you have any friends that you've known for 10 years or more? Yepp. How often do you see your ex? I see Drew pretty much weekly. If the last person you kissed needs you at 3 am and you could go, would you go? Absolutely. Do you miss your past? Some aspects. Do you think you're wasting your time on the person you like? No. What side of a heart do you draw first? Left. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school/work? Work, yes. What kind of back pack do you have, and what's in it? I have a backpack purse that is the map of Neverland. Nothing is in it, because I'm using my new purse now. Do you have a friend you can tell secrets to and you're sure they won't tell anyone? Yepp. Is there a secret you've never told your parents? Yes. Do you have candles in your room? No. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone for more than 5 minutes? My mom and her husband. Do you have your eye on anyone? I'm already with someone. Are you happy with your life at the moment? A lot of parts, sure. Some parts, not so much. What is something you disliked about your day? I have a bit of headache, but other than that it's been a GREAT day. What's the last thing you drank? Water. Who was the last person to tell you they love you? My kiddos. What are you listening to? Crooked Teeth - Death Cab For Cutie. Did you go outside for more than 30 minutes today? Yes What's the last thing you said out loud? "Thank you." How's your hair looking? I need a haircut, but it's not looking too bad. Anyone you would like to get things straight with? Nope. Ever kissed in the rain? Yes. Are you sleepy? Yes. What TV show should never stop getting produced? Idgaf Happier on your own or with someone? I'm happier with Justin. Who's the last text you received from? Kelsi. Is cheating ever okay? No. Would you ever be the "other person", as in help someone cheat? I have before, it was a dark time in my life. Can you whistle? No. Waiting on anything? Insurance check. What shoes did you wear today? Black canvas sneakers. Name all the people you've seen today: Justin, Shonda, Andy, Max, Dad. In that order. What's irritating you right now? Nothing really. Do you like someone? Yepp. Where is your cell phone? Great question... Do you feel comfortable with answering personal questions? Obviously. Have you ever passed out? Yepp. Where is the person you miss the most at this time? Alabama. Do you have a best friend? I have a few. Have you ever had your heart broken? Yepp. Are your eyes the same color of your mom's or dad's? Closer to my mom's. Have you ever hated someone, but ended up being friends with them? Yes. Does it matter to you if your boyfriend/girlfriend smokes? He does smoke, and so do I. Ever found more than a dollar in a random place? Sure. How many of the opposite sex do you really trust? Justin, my dad, Needles. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? Nope. Did you tell the last person you liked your feelings for them? Yeah, that's why we're together. What time will you be getting up tomorrow morning? No specific time. How are you feeling at this exact moment in time? Great. Any weekend plans? Just hanging out with the kiddos. Will you be in bed within twenty minutes? I don't plan on it. Who were you with at 1 AM this morning? Justin, Liz, Zach. Closest pink object? Post-It note. Are you mad at anyone? Nope. How old will you be in 5 years? 37. Thanks for that. Are you watching TV while doing this? No. Last thing you ate? Mini quiches. Are you having a good hair day? Meh. Do you miss someone? Yes. Do you have any bruises? No. Are you hot or cold right now? Neither. Who are your last 4 texts from? Kelsi, Krystle, Justin, mom. What's your middle name? Victoria. What's your current favorite color? Grey. When is your birthday? November 2. What color shirt are you wearing? It's mostly black. Are you imagining anyone naked right now? I mean, now I am lol Do you want to see somebody right now? Nah Where is your mom? Either at home or out running errands. Speak any other languages? Not fluently. Do you like rain? Yes. What are you thinking about right now? These questions. What would be harder, for you to tell someone you love them or that you do not love them back? Idk. Your best friend was caught smoking weed in the bathroom, how do you react? Depends on which best friend lol. Kelsi I'd be shocked, I'd probably laugh at the others. What's the furthest away from home you have ever been? NYC. Is there a chick that knows everything or mostly everything about you? Yes Who was the last person you cried in front of? Andy? How many cell phones have you had in your life? Too many. Do you currently have a hickey? Nah, but Justin does lol Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up? Yes Look behind you, what do you see? My dining room table. What's on your schedule for tomorrow? Nothing in particular. Do you think that you're a good person? Mostly. Do you and your dad get along? Yes. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? One hour lol Can you see your purse right now? Nah Are you wearing any perfume? What kind? No. Are there products in your hair? Yes. Can you see a stuffed animal from where you’re sitting? Nope. Have you ever eaten cat food? No. Did you ever try to watch yourself pee when you were little? I'm sure. When you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy? Sometimes. Do you actually like sneezing? Not really? What about coughing? Nope. Have you taken a shower yet today? Not yet. How many pets do you have? A cat named Merlyn and a dog named Valentine. Do you actually like them? Yes. Do you have one best friend who is always there for you? I have more than one. Are the people who you hang out with at school considered your "real friends"? I do college online, I know none of my schoolmates lol Do you wear skirts a lot? I wouldn't say a lot. Mini skirts or longer ones? Mini. Do you basically live in jeans? No. Do you wear sweatpants a lot? Not a lot, but I have some. Name one movie you like and your favorite character in it: Gone With the Wind, Scarlett O'Hara. How many pairs of jeans do you think you have? Six? Do you wear white after Labor Day even though it’s against the fashion rules? That's so dumb Or do you hardly ever wear white anyway? I don't wear it that often Do you like hoodies? Who doesn't? Big ones or the form fitting kind? Big. Do you wear polo shirts a lot? Fuck no. Do you straighten your hair? Rarely. Should you straighten it? No. Have you ever gotten a real massage? Yes. When’s the last time you got your nails done? No clue. What was your favorite TV show when you were a little kid? Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Weren’t Nickelodeon shows much better back in the day? Yes. Do you remember watching The Secret World of Alex Mac? Yes. How about Rocko’s Modern Life? Yes. Did you ever actually have a rubber duck? Possibly? Are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets? Yes. Do you love pictures as much as every other teenager in the world? I'm not a teenager. Are orgasms cool? Absolutely. Are you organized or messy in school? I am a combination lol Do you love your siblings? Mhmmm Do you have a step family? I have a step-father. Do you like Advil or Tylenol? Ibuprofen. What grade were you in when you got your first period (assuming you’re a girl)? 7th. Do you like girls, guys, or both? Both. Do you love your reproductive organs? Uhm, sure. Do you love your computer? Yeah. Are you one of those people who never drink soda? No. Or are you one of those people who are addicted? Yes. Do you drink coffee? Yes. Do you think it actually gives you energy? Yeah. Do you like basically all of your clothes? That's why I bought them. Do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself? Any of it. Do you honestly think you’re an interesting person? I can be. What song are you listening to? Float On - Modest Mouse. Why do you like that song? It's actually the only Modest Mouse song I do NOT like, but it came up on shuffle. What did your last incoming text message say? "I can rub it in his face without even actually saying anything." Look at your received call list. Who is number 5? I don't wanna get up to get my phone. Do you ever wish you were a different race, and if so, what? I don't think about stuff like that? Do hobos frighten you? No. What's the most you have ever spent in the crane toy machines? Not a lot. If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Here. When is the last time you were in a hospital? After my car wreck. Why were you there? To check on my ribs and head. What is the most painful piercing you have had? The first time I got my nose pierced. Have you ever cried after one of your favorite sports teams lost a game? Once, when the Lakers lost the state championship against the Celtics. I was pregnant, okay?? Would you marry a 90-year-old billionaire? If he didn't want sex, hell yeah. Have you ever kept a fortune from a Chinese fortune cookie? No. Have you ever told a lover that they were good in bed, when they were not? No. Would you jump into a lake to save a stranger? Depends. Do you think your life story would make a great movie? Meh. What TV show world would you fit right into? Idk. Would you rather be in a room with Micheal Jackson or a rattlesnake? Neither. Have you ever gone to a bookstore at 12 AM to buy the next Harry Potter book? No. Have you ever been so bored that you counted cracks in the walls? No. Do you read while you eat? Sometimes. How long does it usually take you to drink a beverage? Depends on the beverage. What did you want to be when you were in kindergarten? A writer. What do you want to be now? Librarian.

[freddiesaysalright]

Dancing With Ben Week 3

A Ben Hardy x Reader Fic Disney Night - Jazz

Summary: Reader is one of the pro dancers on Dancing With the Stars. It’s her second season on the show, and this time, her partner is none other than Ben Hardy. Will they win the Mirror Ball? Maybe they’ll win something even more meaningful!

Word Count: 3K

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @twigleektribute23, @ionlyhavepicturesofflowers, @asquiresofftime, @caborhapch, @iwasnothingbutacityboy, @a-kind-of-magik, @anxious-diabetic, @royalblueviper, @toms-irish-girl If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Week 1  Week 2

Week 3 here we go!!!

Disney night was a favorite of yours. It reminded you of childhood and the night was always joyful. Also, you got to take a break from rehearsal one day and go to DisneyLand. You were really looking forward to spending the day at the park with Ben, even if the cameras were following you around for most of the day. 

“Are you ready to have a fun Disney day?” you asked eagerly as you entered the park.

“I am,” he chuckled, looking at you.

You felt like a little kid again. You donned Minnie Mouse ears and everything for the day. You hardly noticed the way Ben gazed at you, like you were positively the sweetest thing he had ever seen. You took his hand and led him over to Cinderella’s castle, where you would shoot some things for the video package.

You stood with him in front of the castle, and faced him. “So, what was your favorite Disney movie as a kid?”

“I always loved The Jungle Book and 101 Dalmations,” he said. “I was into the animals.”

“No princesses, huh?”

He shook his head. “Nah.”

“You do know you look like a Disney prince, right?”

He laughed, throwing his head back. “I guess so.”

“It’s not a guess, Hardy, I’m right,” you insisted with a smirk. 

“Which prince am I going to be this week, then?” he asked.

“Actually, we’re doing something different,” you told him. “You and I are doing a jazz routine to Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious from Mary Poppins.” 

“I can’t believe you said that without messing up,” he said, impressed. “Do it again.”

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” you said.

“One more time.”

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“Oh, you’re good.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

“So, what do I need to know about jazz?” he asked.

“It is very fun and very Disney,” you said. “One step you’ll have to know is the Charleston.”

“Show me, coach,” he said.

You slowly walked him through the basic Charleston step. The camera guys got a shot of you doing it together for the package. Ben already had it down, blowing you away with how easy most of this came to him. Then, you headed out to enjoy the park.

“Do you like roller coasters?” you asked.

“I love them,” he said. “You?”

“I love them!” you agreed. “Oh, we’re gonna have so much fun today.”

You took his hand again and led him to the first ride. The line wasn’t terribly long since it was the middle of the week, but it was still Disney, so tourists were crowding the park. Ben held your hand throughout the ride. Even through the first drop, when your hands were in the air, they were intertwined. You looked quickly at each other before it went down, your stomach turned, and you screamed together. When you clamored off the ride at the end, your legs wobbled, but Ben held you up.

You continued through the park this way - hand in hand. You were heading to get some food, when a tiny hand tapped your knee. You looked down and saw a weepy little girl, looking desperately up at you. She was wearing a Cinderella dress, but her tiara was askew in her hair.

“Excuse me,” she sobbed. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah, honey, what’s wrong?” you asked, kneeling down to her level. 

“I’m lost,” she said with a sniffle. “I can’t find my mommy.”

“Where did you last see her?” Ben asked. 

“By the castle,” she answered.

You were in Toontown, so it wasn’t terribly far. It was still a long way for a girl her age to go alone. 

“Alright, we can walk you back over there and see if we can find her,” you said.

“O-okay,” she stammered with a nod.

“What’s your name, lovie?” Ben questioned gently.

“Laci,” she said.

“I’m Ben, and this is Y/N,” he told her. “It’s nice to meet you, Laci.”

The corners of her mouth  twitched upward as he smiled at her. 

“Can you hold our hands?” you suggested. 

“Hold on, I’ve got a better idea,” Ben said. “How’d you like to sit way up high on my shoulders, Laci? That way you can see your mum from wherever she is.”

Laci nodded enthusiastically. Together, you hoisted her up until she was settled on his shoulders, legs dangling on either side of his head. He held her ankles. At last, she laughed.

“Lean forward, lovie,” he said. “Don’t want you to slip off.”

“Okay!” she agreed brightly.

“That was a quick turnaround,” you said to Ben under your breath. 

“Kids love to be tall,” he replied simply. 

“Mr. Ben, why do you talk funny?” Laci asked from her seat atop him.

You grabbed his arm and snickered. “Mr. Ben!”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m from another country. England.”

“Oh!” she said. “Like Harry Potter!”

“Yes, like Harry Potter,” he said, smiling. 

“Do you know him?” she wondered.

“Not well,” he answered. “We’ve met, but, as you know, he’s a rather busy person.”

They carried on back and forth and you looked on with admiration. A pang of irritation went through you as you overheard the camera guy and producer exchange a few words.

“Are you getting this?” the producer asked.

“Yeah, they’re gonna love it,” said the camera man.

You made your way back to the castle and Ben instructed Laci to be on the lookout for her mother. You kept your eyes peeled as well for a woman who might be distressed. Laci wiggled on Ben and gave an excited cry. He gripped her legs tighter to keep her upright.

“There she is!” she said. “By the statue!”

You squinted and saw a pretty blonde woman up ahead. She looked frantic and was calling out. You jogged ahead, so you could lead her back to her daughter. 

“Hi!” you called. “Are you Laci’s mom?”

“Yes!” she sighed. “Is she with you?”

“Yeah,” you assured her. “And she’s fine, don’t worry.”

At that moment, Ben caught up. He lifted Laci off his shoulders and lowered her to the ground. She hurtled toward her mother and wrapped herself on her legs.

“Thank you!” her mother cried. “I stopped in a shop to grab one thing, and the next thing I knew she was gone.”

“She came right up and asked us for help,” you said.

“Seriously, thank you so much,” she said. 

A beat passed as she looked at you. “Aren’t you two on Dancing With the Stars?”

You smiled. “Yeah! I’m Y/N, and this is Ben Hardy.”

“I thought I recognized you,” she said. “The whole family are big fans.”

“We hope that means you’re voting for us,” Ben joked.

She laughed. “Of course! Especially now, after what you’ve done. Is there...anything else I can do for you guys to thank you?”

You and Ben exchanged a surprised look.

“No, nothing,” he assured her. “Really, she was no trouble.”

“Then can I just ask for a picture?” she said a little sheepishly.

“Of course!” you agreed.

She picked up Laci and put her on her hip. Ben took her phone and you all leaned in for a selfie. He snapped the photo and returned her phone to her and she thanked you again and again. When you parted ways at last, Laci in her mother’s arms, she waved to you over her shoulder, until she was out of sight.

“What a sweetheart,” you cooed. You turned to Ben. “And you! You really were like a Disney prince!”

He looked at the ground. “No, I wasn’t. I was just being a good person.”

“You literally swept her off her feet,” you said.

“I do the same thing to you every week,” he teased, winking at you.

It made you stop in your tracks. You caught your breath and then kept on walking. Shortly after, the cameras were gone and you and Ben were free to enjoy the rest of the afternoon however you liked. You packed as much as you could into the day, since Ben had actually never been before. You had an absolute blast on all the rides, sometimes holding tightly to him as you went. A few other people recognized you and asked for pictures as well, which you happily agreed to.

Finally, you stopped to eat something. You picked a restaurant in the New Orleans Square and sat down to eat. As you waited for your food, you chatted some more.

“So, are you excited for this week’s dance?” you asked.

“I’m always excited to dance with you,” he replied, and you hoped he missed the color that flooded your cheeks. “But I am excited for this dance. I’m actually a bit relieved to not be a prince character.”

“Why?” you wondered.

“Well, I feel like it’s how everyone sees me,” he explained. “The hot guy or whatever. I want to be known for my performance, not the way I look. It’s why - when I have a choice - I always choose to remain clothed.”

You cocked your head to the side with a questioning look. He laughed at how cute you were.

“For example, when I did Woman in White, there was a scene where I could have had my shirt off,” he said. “I chose to keep it on because I wanted people focused on the scene. Not my body.”

“Are you insecure about it or something?” you asked, incredulous at the idea.

“No, not at all,” he answered. “I’m proud of my body and all that but I don’t like being objectified. Ogled.”

“It makes you feel like the reason you get parts is because you’re eye candy,” you summarized.

“Yes, exactly,” he said. “I want to be recognized for my talent.”

“Ben, you are a very handsome man,” you said, holding out your hand, which he took. “But you are so much more than that. You’re really talented. Not just at acting, but dance now too. Even more than both those things, you’re genuinely one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. It’s probably what I like most about you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said. “Really.”

You enjoyed dinner together and you realized your newfound respect for Ben. He took his art really seriously. He had fun, but he was intent on doing things the right way. You admired him greatly for it.

The next day, you began rehearsals. Ben was enthusiastic as usual as you broke down the basics for him. One fun thing about this routine was that you were doing a lift where he had to flip you over a cane. It was whimsical and interesting. Ben was incredibly careful with you. Luckily, he was strong and only dropped you once. You laughed on the floor when he fussed and wondered if you were okay. 

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Believe me, this happens all the time. Do you need a break?”

“Yeah, maybe a short one,” he said.

You sat down and grabbed some water, allowing him to shake it off. At that moment, Sasha entered, carrying a gossip magazine. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Look what I found!” Sasha teased. “You two were really cozying up at Disney, eh?”

He handed you the magazine and you opened it to the page he had dog-eared. You groaned when you saw it. It was you and Ben at the restaurant holding hands. The text speculated you were in a relationship, and also implied how it would break James’s heart that you had “moved on.”

“Looks like you two are the couple of the season,” Sasha said.

“I’m happy to take some of the pressure off Sharna, but this is ridiculous,” you said. It usually was Sharna who was rumored to be dating her male partners on the show. 

“Yeah, Y/N was just being nice to me right then,” said Ben. “We were really just having a moment of genuine friendship.”

“You know how it goes,” Sasha said. “The press has to come up with some scandal if they can. Unless of course it’s true.”

You smacked him on the arm. “Don’t you have some rehearsal you need to be at, Mr. Bottom Two?” 

Sasha feigned offense. “Oh, she’s feisty. Good luck, Ben!” 

He left with a laugh and without the magazine. You kicked it into the corner. 

“Let’s get back to work, shall we?” you said. 

Ben smiled and agreed. 

He picked up the routine well. You worked extra hard to get the parts where you tossed his cane and your umbrella down to perfect timing. By the time dress rehearsal rolled around, you were feeling great. You were getting fitted for your dress. It was the white one, similar to what Julie Andrews wore in the movie, but with a little more sex appeal. Your neckline was a deep vee, and the red bit really cinched in your waist. The skirt only went just past your knees and you couldn’t resist doing a twirl and getting the layers floating around your legs.

You heard Ben gasp in the doorway. You beamed at him. 

“Wow,” he sighed. “You look…”

“Practically perfect in every way?” you finished.

He nodded. You naturally made you way to his arms and settled there. 

“You look pretty good yourself, handsome,” you said, straightening his bow tie. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Are you ready to kill it?” you asked. 

“It’s only dress rehearsal,” he laughed.

“No excuses, Hardy,” you said, poking his chest. “Give me everything you got, remember?”

“Yes, coach.”

You made it through dress rehearsal without a hitch. You were sure you and Ben would be getting even higher scores this time around. It was going so smoothly. 

The time came for the performance. You and Ben were going right in the middle of everyone else, which was fine with you. You were certain he’d stand out. Tom started to introduce you.

“Next up, take a look at Ben and Y/N’s experience at Disney, where they faced an unexpected visitor,” he said.

The video package showed you and Ben talking and then they included finding Laci. You rolled your eyes. Ben actually watched the video this time, and he smiled at Laci’s face.

“She really was cute, wasn’t she?” he said.

You nodded. “Well, she and her mom are voting so let’s do them proud.”

You got set up as the video faded to black, the music started, and you began your routine. 

You and Ben leapt around that dance floor like Mary Poppins and Bert were right off the screen. He got every step. He nailed the small lift, and you felt like you really brought some fire to that jazz. When you finished, you embraced, before heading over to the judges, very much out of breath. 

“Once again, I’m shocked,” Carrie Ann began. “Seriously, jazz can be so hard, and Y/N pulled no punches with that choreography.” She added a few notes about footwork.

“I won’t lie to you, Ben,” Len began, but then he broke into a smile. “I really, really liked that dance. You went in there, gave it some welly, and you performed a real jazz number. Well done.”

You and Ben laughed and squeezed each other. 

“I loved that dance,” Bruno agreed. “You were bouncing around, and you really captured the essence of Mary Poppins and Dick Van Dyke in that movie. And honestly, you behaved like a real Disney hero for that little girl in the park. Well done, Ben!”

They all clapped for you as you headed to the skybox to talk to Erin and receive your scores. The other pros and contestants high fived you guys as you came through, finally stopping in front of the camera.

“Great job, you guys!” Erin said. “Honestly, Ben, you and that little girl had my heart just melting. What exactly happened there?”

“Y/N and I were walking and the girl - Laci - literally just walked up and asked us to help her find her mum,” he explained. “She was so sweet, so we helped her out, and luckily, her mum wasn’t too far away.”

“Still so, so cute,” she said. “Let’s see what the judges thought.”

You waited while the scores came in. All three of them scored you a nine. You screamed with joy and leapt into Ben’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. The three nines placed you at the top of the leaderboard. You felt like you were in the clouds. Between the dance, the scores, and the thrill of being in the lead, nothing could bring you down. Ben was exactly the same. You couldn’t stop hugging each other. 

“You did it!” you cried. “I’m so proud of you!”

“We did it!” he returned. “Together!”

You got warm all over from the sentiment. 

Finally, it was elimination time. You and Ben joined the other couples on the stage as you waited once again for Erin and Tom to go through couple by couple to tell them who was in danger. You gripped Ben’s hand so tight, you were sure his fingers were bruised. 

“Ben and Y/N,” Erin said. “I’m sorry, you guys are in danger tonight.”

Your mouth fell open and you looked at Ben. He swallowed and pulled you under his arm. He kissed your forehead and you closed your eyes. You held tightly to him, fearing you may not get to hold him again. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s not over yet,” he said, sounding more confident than he looked. 

You waited. There were three couples total in danger. You and Ben, Sasha and his partner, and Lindsay and her partner. 

“The couple that is leaving us tonight is…” Tom began.

You gripped handfuls of Ben’s jacket, sending a silent prayer that you wouldn’t have to let him go yet. You weren’t ready. 

“Sasha and…”

You sighed with relief, but did not let go of Ben. He didn’t release you either. You held each other for a long moment. The others were already moving to say goodbye to Sasha and his partner. You and Ben looked at each other and then joined them, noticeably behind. 

“That concludes Disney night,” Tom said to the camera. “Thanks for joining us and come back next week to see what our stars come up with for country night!”

[angrylizardjacket]

when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true. 

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward. 

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to. 

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous. 

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it. 

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself. 

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble. 

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe. 

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open. 

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head. 

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

[praxilla]

I'm getting really sick to death of a problem that exists within left spaces of fandom.

Assumptions of malice and no allowances for nuance.

I happen to be interested by Reylo after TLJ which means I'm automatically racist and a shitty piece of shit.

Nope, no don't look at my behaviours in my real life. Don't look at my actions I've done in service to my community. Don't look at the words I speak and the company I keep in real life. No, you know all you need to because I ship reylo. I ship reylo so I'm the biggest most racist abusive piece of shit you ever saw. No need to know me personally when you already assume so much.

I get the perspective. In fact, my perspective includes aspects of that perspective. But do they understand mine? Like, actually understand it. Not assuming they know it. No. They don't. They just assume they do because they want their fandom infighting to be morally justified.

So many (white) people I respect are falling into a trap of wanting to garner woke points by infighting in fandom and casting stones where they needn't be thrown. Like yes, there are problematic and racist shippers and the ship itself is problematic and not healthy, but nuance is real my friends.

I ship reylo because of the force connection and because when Rey saw him shirtless she got nervous and because the fight scene was cool.

I ship Rey/Finn and Poe/Finn too but they get significantly less cool plot points than Rey and Kylo Ren. (Hmm wonder why? Could this be the real institutional racism we should be fighting? Nah it's the shippers.) I ship them because the plot around them is cool and intriguing. That they're connected.

If we want to talk racism we should be talking to the people working on the movie because there are a lot of problems there and they are the origins of it all.

Why was Finn's plot and character arc seemingly brushed aside in a shitty careless manner in TLJ? Why was Poe also given the same treatment and why did purple haired bitch treat him like a nuisance and why wasn't he allowed to do anything interesting? Why were the POC sidelined in TLJ in a shitty plot that did nothing? Who was in charge of the script and why didnt they give all the POC roles in the main plot that actually mattered? That's the racist shit I think actually matters because it comes from real world prejudice that infected the story.

I mean if some shippers are actively saying or doing racist shit then yes. But if they're just shipping two characters omg leave them alone and take your frustrations out on the source of the frustrations? The people making the movie? The people who decided only the white people get interesting things to do? I mean, it's these reasons (and fuck Disney) that I'm going to shmillegally stream the movie and not pay to see it. Fuck corporations and fuck capitalism.

I ship Reylo because of what was written. It's the type of romance story that really interests me. (Strange connection between people who hate each other) If Rey was a black girl I would still ship it. If Kyle Ron was a black man I'd still ship it. It's the force bond that makes me interested.

And it's the sidelined characters of colour that indicate where heavy institutional racism (and homophobia) still sits IN REAL LIFE. With the people actually making the movie. Why CANT Finn/Poe happen? Why DID both Finn and Poe get female love interests thrown in haphazardly (I love Rose but still. What was the point of that whole plot lol. I loved her introduction but that whole adventure was pointless and filler 😭)

I wish people could hold more nuance and hold the correct persons responsible instead of shaming an entire group of people just to feel like your judgment and lack of interest in a story is woke enough to count as social justice advocacy.

Why go after the people making the movie who made reylo a more important thing than the poc when you can go after shippers who are just finding enjoyment in something so big in pop culture it's shoved down our collective throats? (All hail Disney.)

I don't even want their perspective to go away. It's important and has worthwhile things to say. But it needs to be directed at the people making the movie because they are the ones who decided to do all this shit, not shippers. I guess my point is that it's misdirected anger. All the anger going into hating Kyle Ron and reylos shout be going into like, tangible movements that will produce results. Maybe an anti Disney movement? But no that's not easy! That doesn't give out free woke points!

[artificialqueens]

Elastic Heart - Part 2 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

Out of drag, Brock feels smaller. Vulnerable.  He knows he’s still a giant Canadian, but without Brooke’s stilettos and hip-pads he almost feels fragile.  Maybe fragile isn’t the right word, maybe it’s - ordinary.  He goes jogging along Cumberland River and no one notices him. He wears grey sweatpants and Tragically Hip t-shirts like camouflage and blends into whatever setting he’s in. He’s like wallpaper sometimes. People look right past him.

No one looks past Brooke Lynn.  They wouldn’t dare.

Not that he can’t turn a look when he wants to. When his friends drag him out to a club, he can usually find someone who isn’t too intimidated to pick him up, take him home.  He likes being anonymous sometimes (that probably sounds ungrateful, and God help him he never wants this ride to end, but he doesn’t always have the energy to be Brooke Lynn. Especially on his nights off.) 

Back in Nashville he texts Nina every time a new episode drops.  He forces himself to watch each one in public, in a crowded bar or group of noisy friends, sometimes he even hosts the damn watch-party.  At least with people on all sides of him (arms around him, buying him shots, hands on his back) he can’t fuck off without reason.  Can’t run out into the streets or scream without someone coming after him, making sure he’s okay.  So it’s better to do the watch-party thing.  Safer, at least.

“Your fucking face,” he texts Nina during the Monster’s Bal episodel.  On the flat-screen above the bar, Nina’s just taken off her mask and is grinning horrifically at the camera.

“Your fucking mom,” Nina texts back.  Class act, that one.

“Tell me you aren’t actually selling Branjie hats,” she adds a few seconds later. 

Brock shuts his eyes, swallows. His hands don’t shake as he texts back.

“4 charity u want 1?” 

Nina sends him a series of emojis that are just indecipherable enough to be insulting.  And maybe the hats were a cynical move but the proceeds really are going to charity.  It was all Brock’s agent’s idea, and they ran it by Vanessa of course but - the worst part is that Brock’s actually getting some fucked-up kind of relief from it.  From the people online who think the whole sad story was a publicity stunt.  It’s like, fine, that’s all it was, here’s a fucking hat.  You wanna buy a piece of our relationship? We accept Paypal. 

It’s easier to think about it this way, then - the other way. His hand on Vanessa’s chest, heartbeat singing warm and low beneath Brock’s palm.  That harsh, rowdy laugh across the werkroom, making Brock laugh in return no matter what he was doing, and then blush with embarrassment.

(“I’m your jush, hey?”Lips close to Vanjie’s ear, arms draped over her shoulders.

“Aw, bitch, what you want me to say?” Vanessa’s focused on her sewing, but she still gives a cautious glance upwards, smiling with the corners of her mouth. “You need a ring or some shit?”)

That line becomes a bit of a joke between them, though it hasn’t shown up in the episodes yet - and if there’s any justice in the universe it never will.

(“You need a ring or some shit?” after Vanjie wins a mini-challenge, reaching out for a hand to hold.

“You need a ring or some shit?” after Vanjie lip-synchs for her life and throws her arms around Brooke as soon as they’re off-stage, away from the judges and the harsh white lights, smelling like sweat and hairspray and baby powder and -)

Stop.

If Brock ever hears that question edited dramatically into a confessional, he might break a television with his knuckles.  

At the very least, throw a high-heel.

“Are you okay?” Nina texts, too high-achieving for slang or abbreviations.  She even uses punctuation like some sort of monster.

Brock puts his phone down, lets the drama play out on screen for once. Nina doesn’t need a response to the question.  She already knows the answer.

* * *

The first time they kiss, the cameras are not on them. 

Brooke wouldn’t have done that, wouldn’t have wanted to make it something sensational.  She knows there’s a limit to how cuddly they can be before the editors start building a story out of it, putting pieces together that will inevitably lead to some awful climax and a lot of think-pieces on Vulture. It’s best to keep - whatever it is behind Vanjie’s dark eyes - under wraps.

They’ve been trading glances across the werkroom but Brooke tells herself it doesn’t mean anything special. Vanjie is a legend, a rock star, and even though Brooke slays the first runway challenge (all hail Detox, Patron Saint of Latex, hallowed be Thy name) it doesn’t make her think she’s earned any extra notice from the other queens. Maybe a couple of shady glances here and there, but that’s to be expected.

And if she looks a bit too long at Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (all wrapped up in red silk, the sticky-sweet colour of maraschino cherries and candied apples) no one’s going to notice.  Vanjie’s fine as hell in and out of drag; you’d have to be blind not to stare at her.  

Brooke’s clearly only fooling herself because that first night (the fucking first night!) A’Keria slides up beside Brooke in line for craft services, pursing her lips.

“Oooh girl, you be careful.” 

“Why?” Brooke grabs some salad before it runs out. Fuck knows the P.A.s won’t order more of it. 

“Play innocent all you like, but I see you lookin’. Don’t be stupid, now.” A’Keria is too smart for her own good, and too damn cool to be chatting with Brooke over paper plates full of iceberg lettuce. “Any of those producers catch you, they’re gonna be all over it, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I don’t,” Brooke Lynn says, and A’Keria rolls her eyes. 

But Brooke knew.  And she really should have listened.

It’s after the “What’s Your Sign” runway (which Vanjie stomps like she owns it, dripping with red roses and a goddamn Libra, Jesus Christ - Brooke’s so predictable.) 

She takes off her paint and sneaks outside for a smoke break before the producers come to round them all up, pack ‘em into the van back to the hotel.  No one follows her.  The cameras usually leave a queen alone if she’s by herself (not enough drama to waste the film) and Brooke hurries to take advantage of that fact. 

The smoking area is just a nasty little square of pavement with a couple of chairs and an ashtray, but it’s quiet and Brooke can almost see the stars.  For a few moments she’s completely alone and after the chaos of shooting for sixteen hours – it’s nice.  Nice to not have to be “on.” Nice to just be.

And then the door creaks as it opens, and out walks Vanjie.  Back in boy clothes, but still a bit glittery.

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Brooke Lynn.”

Brooke exhales a laugh that tastes like ashes. “You don’t smoke.”

“Nah.” Vanjie sits down on a chair across from her. “But those girls take forever, I’m growing old watching them. Look, baby, I got wrinkles.” She turns her head from side to side, gesturing to (non-existent) lines at the corners of her eyes. 

Brooke wants to tell her she looks perfect, flawless, untouchable.  But she doesn’t. Instead she sucks on her cigarette, tells herself to be cool (for once.) “You were so good in the challenge. It was amazing.”

“I’m not a regular dad, I’m a cool dad.” Vanjie tugs at the shoulder of her hoodie with that low, rasping laugh of hers. “You weren’t so bad neither.”

Brooke shakes her head, old enough to know bullshit when she hears it. “Don’t even.  That voice - that whole character was a mistake.”

“Haha, well.  It was a choice, bitch, a choice. Good thing you turned it out on the runway.” Vanjie tilts her head back, looking up into the dark. “Hey, I can almost see stars. That’s a star, right?”

Brooke follows Vanjie’s pointing hand, but can’t make anything out besides smog.  She closes her eyes instead of looking at her any longer (sometimes looking at Vanessa is easy and sweet as breathing, and sometimes it’s like holding the palm of your hand over a candle) and thinks of how far away from home she is. Old homes, and new ones, and all the places in between that felt like home at the time. She thinks of how long it’s been since she’s seen winter, the sky going grey-gold with falling snow.

When Brooke opens her eyes, Vanjie’s watching her.

“Don’t go getting down on yourself, Miss Brooke Lynn,” she says. “Mama Ru will clock that self-doubt and come after you. She eats. That. Shit. Up.”

“Right. Jesus, you’re right.” Brooke concentrates on the glowing ember at the tip of her cigarette, and not the way the dim lights catch Vanjie’s cheekbones. “Anyway, how are you holding up? Feel different than last season?”

“Since it’s been a minute and I’m still here? Fuck yeah it feels different. Ha!” All the teasing electricity in her eyes goes soft, and Vanjie’s quiet for a moment. A smudge of glitter still sparkles at the hollow of her throat. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m back.  That they let me come back.  Shit.” 

“Fans would have rioted if they didn’t bring you back.” Brooke fills the air with smoke as she breathes.  “I certainly would have.”

“Yeah?” Vanjie raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should start smoking, since y’all making it look so good. Sitting out here in the dark like a tall glass of Clearly Canadian.”

“I don’t think they even make that any more.”

“Know your history, bitch.”

Brooke laughs again, helpless in the face of so much charm. “You know you have glitter on you? Your neck. Just -”

She reaches out to wipe it away, but before she can make contact with skin, Vanjie’s hand catches hers. Holds. 

Brooke doesn’t move.  She isn’t generally a reckless person - she’s poised, efficient, ruthless. (She wants all those things to be true. She wants to be smarter than this. She wants to feel the pulse point beating in Vanjie’s wrist like a metronome.  She wants -) 

“Shoulda known you’d be a Pisces,” Vanjie says before she kisses her. 

(As kisses go - it’s in the Top Three of Brooke’s life.

Number One: hasn’t happened yet. That’ll come later, violins and roses and all that shit, payoff worth the wait and then some. 

Number Two: her first kiss.  First with a boy anyway - drunk and seventeen and gasping with the realization that she could have this. This was okay.  It was okay.

Number Three is Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, tasting like mint and still glittery, hand clutching tight to Brooke’s (who isn’t shaking, she isn’t.)  There’s a hint of tongue at the corner of her mouth, and it’s all Brooke can do not to clutch fistfuls of that hoodie and drag Vanjie against her.  Hold her tight.  Keep her close.  Brooke doesn’t know how she’ll ever manage to pry her hands away.)

Then the door creaks as it opens. 

Brooke has just enough self-control to pull back before Yvie’s coming out, digging into the pockets of her skinny jeans for a lighter and scowling.

Not looking up.  Not looking at them.

“We’ve apparently got five minutes to get to the van.  Christ, that paint did not want to come - oh.” She glances up. “Didn’t know you smoked, Vee.”

And Vanjie grins, showing the white of her teeth (“Ain’t I full of surprises, bitch?”) and Brooke swan-dives to the pavement, through the ground, clean through the centre of the earth. 

She was already half-way there, but fuck her life: she falls.

[raptortext]

@knightadora asked: 40. Against a wall kiss - Zack/Cloud - FFVII

(ao3 link)

2,041 words, some kind of au, Reno’s here

“Man...this is really where Reno wanted to meet us, huh?” Zack muses.

Cloud is too miserable to let Zack know he couldn’t make out a damn word he said. It’s too loud in this club. It’s crowded. The only lights are colored and moving while they flash. The music is already pounding but to Cloud it’s an earthquake ripping into his head.

This fucking sucks.

Zack doesn’t seem too bothered by any of this; he’s always been immune to the stuff that gets to Cloud the most. Cloud is kicking himself over not thinking to bring those ear plugs Tifa got him. He knows exactly where they are and yet he left them behind like an idiot. He’s going to strangle Reno.

“Let’s get this over with,” Cloud says to himself, refusing to even try projecting anything he says to Zack.

“Let’s get this over with!” Zack yells down at Cloud who grimaces. Cloud nods and follows Zack closely, barely processing anything that’s going on around him.

He can vaguely hear Zack asking dancing people if they know who Reno is. When the answer is affirmative, which is most of the time, he asks if they’ve seen Reno around. Everyone says no.

“What a guy!” Zack shouts in Cloud’s direction and the tone is completely lost. “So private that he won’t come to you, not so private that everyone knows him, but then so private that no one knows where he is!”

Cloud does not give a shit anymore. This is a nightmare. This is too damn much just to get whatever Reno wants delivered. Why did he agree to pick it up from him? Why does he do anything for Reno anymore? When did Reno even get his personal cell phone number?

At some point—it feels like hours to Cloud—Zack realizes that Cloud isn’t all there. He grabs Cloud’s hand and starts leading him through the swarm of sweating, twisting bodies. Cloud is floating along, he barely feels the heat anymore and can only process the music as mind-numbing vibrations; lights aren’t supposed to be purple and blue and they sure as hell aren’t supposed to move. Maybe Reno tricked him into entering an alternate reality.

Suddenly he’s thrust into a small room lit with white light. He flinches and shuts his eyes tight. There’s no more deafening thunder and no more hordes but the light is too bright for a while.

“Hey...sorry buddy, I was trying to get us in and out and didn’t check on you. You alright?”

Cloud takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah...yeah, now I am. Forgot my ear plugs.”

Zack rubs Cloud’s back until Cloud opens his eyes. Cloud looks around. They’re in a bathroom—a well kept one, at that. He’s not the biggest fan of white light but anything’s better than colorful strobe lights penetrating the darkness. He sighs and leans back against the wall.

“Is Reno trying to kill me…?” he groans. Zack chuckles.

“Just think of it this way: if he did, he wouldn’t have anyone to deliver his stuff.”

Cloud snorts. “I guess so.”

He holds his head for a moment and then looks up at Zack. Zack gets closer, places one hand on the wall and the other squeezing Cloud’s upper arm for comfort. “Need more time?”

“...Yeah.”

Zack nods. His eyes are so enchanting, beautiful. Cloud may only be half-present but he’s fully attracted to his best friend. He gets called “buddy” and he’s split between wanting to be with Zack more and trying to force the crush to stop. It’s been a few years and struggling to stop being into Zack hasn’t worked at all.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Zack offers.

Cloud sighs and shuts his eyes again.

“Be nice if you kissed me,” he murmurs, his lapse in presence making him briefly forget that Zack, who is in very close proximity, can hear him in this quiet bathroom. It takes him until Zack says something to realize what he did.

“Do you...really want to?” Zack asks for clarification. Cloud freezes up. This is...bad. He didn’t actually plan on this. He was ready to wait until the most tension-heavy moment to do or say anything, fully prepared for that opportunity to never arise.

But here he is. Stuck between Zack and a hard place being asked if he really wants to kiss Zack.

Great.

Cloud stammers for a moment, loses his cool. Zack is being patient and not giving any drastic reactions. He hasn’t moved away and hasn’t stopped applying pressure to Cloud’s arm. Cloud swallows. This is too much.

“...Yeah,” he admits, averting his gaze. “That wasn’t how I wanted to bring it up.”

Zack grins. “What? Were you gonna wait until we couldn’t take it anymore?”

Cloud pouts and Zack laughs. Zack knows him too well.

“I’m sure we have a little time to ourselves...unless Reno comes through that door in the next minute,” Zack suggests with a wink. Cloud rolls his eyes.

“Don’t summon him. Please.”

Zack smirks. “I think we’d have to say his name three time in the mirror or something, what do you think?”

Cloud shrugs. He looks into Zack’s eyes and relaxes his jaw; he didn’t know he was clenching it in the first place. “I think you should stop talking about Reno and kiss me,” he answers. Zack nods.

“You got it.”

There’s a moment before Zack kisses Cloud that feels like an eternity. Cloud closes his eyes and waits for that whole flash of time for Zack to kiss him. He’s struck with relief when Zack’s lips land gently on his own, when they pucker for a bit then lay on more pressure. Kisses are shorter than Cloud expected and he feels like Zack is backing up too soon.

Unable to stop himself and eyes still closed, Cloud gasps, “Wait.”

“Don’t worry,” Zack chuckles. “I just wanted to get a good look at you.”

Cloud rolls his eyes even though they’re still shut.

Zack comes back with a more intense kiss that gives Cloud the chills. It almost feels as if Zack has been holding back, too. Cloud starts to kiss back, utilizing his jaw to get Zack’s lower lip between his--he might have bitten him a little. He repeats sliding off and latching back on over and over. Cloud isn’t sure who’s producing the small breathy grunts or if it’s both of them; he feels like he’s breathing too much through his nose, but it’s not like his mouth is unoccupied.

Just as Zack puts a hand behind Cloud’s neck the bathroom door slams open.

“Okay, who the hell is—oh. Woooooow, really guys?”

Zack pulls off Cloud and steps away, deeply red in the face. Cloud suspects the warmth taking him over is from certain feelings from the kiss but then being immediately overridden by annoyance from being interrupted, particularly by who.

“Reno,” Cloud chides as if nothing happened. “If you were going to make us come out here then why weren’t you—”

“Woah woah woah!” Reno interjects, thrusting a finger at Cloud. “Don’t come at me when you two were getting chummy in the only bathroom! Jeez, people have to piss, you know.”

Cloud is too frustrated to feel embarrassed or ashamed. “Can you at least close the door? It’s too loud.”

Reno squints at him while he does so. “It’s a club, what did you expect?”

“I expected you to be easy to find so I could pick up your package,” Cloud responds, pushing himself off the wall. “Do you have it?”

Reno sighs dramatically and produces a thick, letter-sized envelope from somewhere in his sports jacket. Cloud finally takes a closer look at Reno’s appearance, namely his fully opened button-up shirt, clearly tailored to fashionably hang open and never close. Everything else looks normal—fancy jacket, slacks, boots, pointless goggles—but the open display of his upper body is new. Cloud is sure that if he took a wet wipe to Reno’s torso he’d erase a good amount of, honestly unnecessary, ab contouring.

He snatches the envelope from Reno. “Just drop off your packages like everyone else next time.”

Reno shrugs and smirks. “Nah, I can’t be seen in the public eye like that.”

Zack snorts. “Uh huh, says the guy everyone in the club knows by name,” he chimes in, hands on his hips. Reno, taken aback, grumbles to himself and dismissively waves his hand at the two.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Why don’t you two go home and get a room, we kinda need this bathroom for the guests.”

“Why did you make a club with one bathroom?” Cloud deadpans.

Reno makes a show of groaning. “Man, everybody’s a critic, huh?” When he notices Cloud’s expression he straightens back up and clears his throat. “Okay, know what? For all your trouble I’ll hire a courier next time to bring the goods to you, how’s that sound?”

Cloud tucks the envelope under his arm. “So you’ll send Rude.”

“That obvious?” Reno snorts. “Anyway, call me about postage and I’ll get that to you later.”

Cloud can at least trust Reno to do as he promises; he’s never botched a transaction, at least not on purpose. “Sure.”

Reno opens the bathroom door and lets it swing wide open. “Alright, get out.”

“Gladly.”

Zack follows Cloud close behind as they use the wall to guide themselves out of the club. Cloud manages to escape the building without going into a near-shutdown state again. Once they breach into the outside world Cloud feels much better than he has in the past however long they were trapped in Reno’s stupid club. He takes the envelope and turns it around a few times.

“Another fake name, probably,” Cloud mutters, examining the to/from information. Zack chuckles, pitched higher from disbelief.

“You sure know some characters, huh?” he comments. Cloud looks tired.

“They find me,” he replies, annoyed. “And they refuse to un-find me.”

Cloud retrieves his keys out of his pocket and puts Reno’s envelope in the compartment under his bike’s back seat. He grabs two helmets from the same place and tosses one to Zack. Zack struggles—as he usually does—to get his on while Cloud mounts, secures his own helmet, and starts Fenrir.

Zack hops on behind Cloud and gets noticeably closer than every time before. “Y’know, it’s nice to actually hold onto you like this without feeling like I’m coming onto you,” he remarks and Cloud blushes. Zack would usually either hold onto the back seat or awkwardly hold onto Cloud’s hips—but that was for safety reasons. Now, Zack has his arms wrapped around Cloud’s waist for more than safety reasons.

“Good. Now I won’t have to worry about you flying off the back.”

The ride is mostly quiet and Cloud gets to enjoy Zack pressed up against his back the entire time. When Cloud drops Zack off, Zack gestures for him to take off his helmet. He does and is caught a little off guard when Zack kisses him. It’s quick, nothing like in the club bathroom, but it feels nice all the same.

“Talk about a fun get-together story, huh?” Zack says, clearly lingering. Cloud nods.

“I would rather not have had Reno there but what’s done is done,” he confirms. Zack ruffles Cloud’s hair and kisses his forehead.

“Shoot me a text when you’re done with deliveries tomorrow,” he requests, “we could pick up where we left off.” Zack winks and Cloud smiles a little.

“Sounds like a date,” he suggests.

Zack grins. “Know what? Pick a place or a thing to do and I’ll take you out on a real date.”

“No clubs.”

“Yes sir, no clubs.”

Cloud puts his helmet back on and revs his engine. “I’ll think about it. I don’t usually go out anywhere.”

“As long as you’ll be okay with something, I’m down for anything.”

“My bathroom is pretty nice, actually.”

Zack laughs. “Alright, alright, go home, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Cloud nods and drives off into the night. He has a lot to tell Tifa, including to prepare for Rude to be a mess around her sometime in the near future.

[serenagaywaterford]

What if for season 4, they managed to come up with an interesting, coherent story line, and fully developed its main female characters, but they kill off Serena. Would you still be interested, or it’s Serena or bust? Well, the good Serena anyway...

Hooo sheeeet.

I DON’T KNOW OMG.

Quite frankly, I have no intention of watching S4 anyway, but I think I would literally not even be tempted if Serena was absent from it. She’s honestly the most interesting character, and the character amazingly, with the most amount of narrative development potential. Just because of the type of character she started as, and they slowly explored (and then pancaked...ugh.) June can develop and has, in the sense, they’re making her more unethical and amoral (immoral? I can’t decide.) as she transforms into a woman more similar to Serena. But where is that really going to go? Obviously, she’ll have her time on the dark side and something will bring her back to Good Pure June again (although I have my doubts she was ever that great a person to begin with). So, I mean June’s trajectory is pretty set. And if they follow The Testaments......... yawn. We all know how it’s gonna end. Serena however has potential to go all over the place, and her final character is unclear. Will she, won’t she, sorta thing. Which, admittedly, will get hugely tiresome if it’s the same see-sawing bullshit they put her through for S2.

I have a hard time figuring out what other main female characters even exist on this show other than June and Serena. Everyone else is secondary. Moira, Rita, and Emily are basically guest stars at this point. Janine... I honestly don’t care THAT much about her to have her be a main focus, and Aunt Lydia is boring to me thanks to S3. The other Handmaids like Alma are tertiary characters tbh. June and Serena are literally the only two main female characters on the show, so to kill off Serena would leave The June Show. And we all know how well they handled that in S3.

And the last thing anybody needs is MORE new characters. There’s already far too many.

Quite honestly, based on how they left S3, they’ll have to do actual legit MAGIC to build any sort of “interesting, coherent story line” for any character in S4. It simply isn’t going to be coherent cos the foundation isn’t solid. S3 was a motherfucking gongshow of a mess in terms of setting up future storylines that are organic and sensible. They are going to massacre the Serena storyline because they already have. Please don’t get me started on the rape arrest cos it is just SO absolutely bonkers and pulled from some 15 year old boy’s version of what international law is that I can’t even fathom how they’ll explain it rationally. AKA, it’s gonna be ludicrous for anybody who knows anything about law or politics.

As for the plane full of kids, meh. So, Rita’s out. Big whoop. I’m not sure exactly what that does for a long-term story. 

June and her fucking Jesus complex is interesting in some sense if they choose to go dark with it, and not just present it as desirable and she’s some sort of superhero -- which incidentally is exactly what they’ve done so far, unfortunately. I mean, it would be great chance to explore trauma and how war/torture/etc. really warps people and damages them, and changes them into the type of people they maybe would have hated. You know? But the show seems to be going the cheap and easy way and instead of doing that, it’s just “Ooh! June is SO COOL NOW! She’s such a kick ass girl power icon!!!!”

NO. She’s fucking broken and traumatized and getting really fucked up. 

So, I suppose if the show grew any sort of balls and awareness, it could present an interesting, coherent story but I have no faith the writers would do that. They’re too up their own asses, and too obsessed with appealing to the lowest common denominator in their audience, instead of actually challenging the audience. 

But, when it comes down to it, I think I am Serena or bust, tbh. I think if the show had done something different in S3 and given some sort of satisfying depth of story for Serena, even if they had killed her off in the finale or early S4, it would have been tolerable and I maybe would have stuck with THT. But considering the pure bullshit of what she was given in S3, I just... nah. Without Serena, this show is meaningless to me. I give negative shits about Nick, Fred, Lawrence, Luke, or Lydia. I don’t particularly even care about June or Emily anymore, sadly. I like Alma, Moira, and Janine but not enough to carry a show. I am still fascinated and enthralled by Serena, for some batshit reason even tho she was royally fucked in S3.

And I mean, I gotta give it to Nick stans, as much as I can’t fucking stand 99% of them, they sure stuck with a show that had no intention of giving them any more Nick to the bitter end and that is not the type of staying power I have if they’d done the same to Serena.

Not to mention, even by the producers own words, the Serena/June dynamic is central to the show... but I guess things can change. And they certainly tried to change that in S3 (and FAILED HORRIBLY in that execution imo).

So, yeah, I’m Serena or bust, I suppose. I just don’t see any other point. I have little interest in anything else. 

[popatochisssp]

Snips & Snails 2/7

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader Chapter Warnings: *sex! But other than that, none, it's pretty vanilla!

It takes a lot of courage to get naked with your interspecies partner for the first time.

AO3 Link

BRAVERY (Optionally Canon)

It was something you’d been wondering about for awhile.

A delicate type of question—the sort that could only arise from a relationship like yours, with such a wide gulf between your cultures, your customs, and even your biology itself—so of course, it should be raised with the utmost care and respect.

You were pretty mad at yourself for just blurting it out one afternoon while watching TV.

“Hey, do monsters…y’know?”

Sans roused a little from where he’d been starting to slump over a little, on the verge of dozing off. “do monsters what...?” he asked.

“…Y’know. Do……sex?”

“………”

The ensuing silence was enough to make you fully appreciate the inanity of your question.

But it was already too late to take it back, so you just…waited for Sans’ response.

“snrk…heheheheheh…hahahaha, oh my god, babe…!”

Your cheeks feel damningly hot.

“I…! Shut up, it’s! A very valid question!”

Sans continues laughing, covering his face with his hand like he could hide the fact that he was laughing at you more than with you.

“yuh…yeah,” he chuckled, “you’re so valid… ya’ gotta know if i can take ya’ to the bonezone, right?”

“Oh my god.”

You have a lot of regrets right now.

So many.

Most of them about dating this cackling skeleton who has no pity for your embarrassed plight.

…That’s a lie, you don’t regret a second of that.

Just the seconds you spent asking such a dumb question out loud, how insensitive and tone-deaf could you be, anyway?!

At least Sans was having a good sense of humor about it.

“awww, baby, don’t…” He seems to take notice of your humiliation…though not enough to stop laughing. “heheh, don’t, c’mon, c’mere, i’m sorry for laughin’…”

You let him tug you closer under his arm, but you don’t look him in the eye-socket. “No, you’re not.”

Sans snickers unapologetically.

“nah, not really,” he admits. “that…that was hilarious, you’re adorable.”

He nuzzles the top of your head as if to prove it, the gesture full of affection.

Mostly it just makes you feel patronized…and a little indignant, now that you think about it.

“Well! You can’t really blame me for asking, can you?” you demand. “You have the advantage here, I’m human! You know we do sex stuff because we put it everywhere!”

And that was true: you could hardly go two steps in real life or two clicks on the internet without stumbling over something sexual and human-related.

A monster with a human partner, a human crush, or just some curiosity about humans had a whole wealth of studies and images and pornography at their fingertips to answer all of their questions.

“I’ve never even heard of monster porn,” you mutter.

“heheheh, well, yeah, that stuff’s private.”

You frown. “So, there is monster porn…it’s just…for monsters only?”

Sans shrugs a little. “not strictly, but…yeah, more or less so far.”

…You were just getting more confused. “Then how does…how do you share it?”

Your first, hilariously silly thought was some kind of underground information network— risqué monster photos being passed across bars in manila envelopes by monsters in trench-coats.

Obviously it couldn’t possibly be that.

But, “eh, i think by phone, mostly,” was not really what you expected to hear, either.

Like…like sexting? Just sending a sexy picture to your partner?

It was starting to sound a little bit like…

“Is monster porn just…individual? Like…one on one?”

Sans didn’t even seem to understand the question. “yeah? it’d be pretty embarrassing for some stranger to end up with your nudes, wouldn’t it?”

You weren’t sure what to say to that.

Of course leaked nudes would be embarrassing, that was private stuff…but humans still wanted to look at sexy things? Porn didn’t just not exist because some people were private…

You have the feeling there’s a cultural miscommunication happening here, but you don’t have the slightest idea where to begin at clearing it up.

Sans seems to notice how confused you are and takes a crack at it himself.

“oh. right, i forgot, humans are all…mix an’ match.”

“…Mix and match?”

“y’know,” he explains, “standardized, compatible. ya’ got the same, uh…stuff.”

“No?” What kind of human porn had Sans seen? “There’s lots of different kinds of human ‘stuff’…”

Sans rolled his eye-light. “sure, yeah, but it’s…it’s all on the one spectrum, at least. ya’ could actually cover it all in a sex-ed class, not like for monsters.”

Monsters, who were ostensibly all the same species, but had such a wide array of subspecies that they had managed to completely stump human systems of categorization when they surfaced.

You thought of the first monster couple that came to mind—Burr and Audrey, a bunny and a plant—and tried, probably very unsuccessfully, to imagine what sort of things went on in their bedroom.

Ohhh… ‘Mix and match.’

You think you’re starting to get it.

At least with humans, there was a relatively limited number of things you could find in somebody’s pants, and probably some sort of guarantee that you could do something with those parts and make each other feel good.

Monsters? They probably didn’t have that same luxury.

You look up at Sans, frowning. “Wait, so…do monsters even have sex-ed if you can’t…?”

Thankfully, your curiosity doesn’t seem to be an offensive topic.

“heheheh, yeah, we have it. it’s pretty much the usual, ‘be responsible and considerate to your partner’ stuff, just no…diagrams or whatever, ‘cause everybody’s ‘different and unique’ an’ that’s something we’re supposed to explore on our own.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You’re encouraged to explore yourself?”

“‘round that age, yeah. gotta figure out your own good spots so you can help your partner find ‘em later, when you’re ready.” The ridges above his eye-sockets crumple a little in confusion. “human sex-ed doesn’t…?”

You scoff.

“Not enough of it. It usually doesn’t even bring up anything besides the ‘default’ sexuality.” The thought gives you pause. “But…monsters, if you’re all so different, do you…how does sexuality even work?”

Your question makes Sans chuckle again. “that, uh…that’s a little broad, ain’t it?”

…Boy, it sure is.

Sans is a monster, but he’s hardly the spokesman for his entire species.

You feel your cheeks starting to heat again, but before you can apologize, he starts talking.

“far as i can tell, though, humans put a lot more stock into all that label stuff than we do. lots of categories and specifics…think i tried lookin’ it up once, to see if there’s a human word for…what most of us are.”

You watch as Sans pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through old notes, things he jotted down in case he wanted to reference it later.

“oof. this was real early surface days. especially shitty at note-takin’ back then,” he admits. “i got no idea what i was gettin’ at here. mean anything to you?”

He angles the screen toward you and see some strange characters on the screen, jumbled up and indecipherable to you. There’s only two words in normal text that you can actually read, toward the bottom.

‘pan’

‘demi??’

“Oh!” Well, that made some sense. “So, for monsters…gender and stuff isn’t important, you’re just…attracted to whoever you like? That way?”

Sans looks…a little impressed by the swiftness of your conclusion. “huh. maybe there is somethin’ to those labels. that’s…i mean, basically, yeah?”

The porn thing was making a lot more sense to you in light of this new information.

Mass-produced pornography probably wouldn’t have nearly as much of a niche in a society where the majority of individuals only experienced sexual attraction alongside an emotional connection.

You do wonder just how much monster erotica is floating around with fictional characters…but you decide not to ask about that.

There’s a way more important implication in what Sans just told you that needs some addressing.

“Does that mean…does that mean you’re attracted to me?”

It seemed like a silly question. You kind of felt dumb again for even asking, since Sans was dating you, of course he…it should be a given that he was attracted to you!

But…it had…been some time, since you’d first gotten together and he hadn’t…

Maybe it wasn’t so much of a given, if you were this far into your relationship and only just now bringing up the topic.

It feels like the kind of thing you probably need to find out before going any further, even if the thought of a negative answer was starting to make you a little nervous.

But to your relief, Sans slowly turns blue and starts to laugh—the way he did when he was feeling especially shy or flustered.

“eheheheheheheh, i, uh…ah, jeez, i didn’t mean to make ya’ ask,” he says a little apologetically. “i…i like ya’, don’t i? so…so of course i…” He cleared his nonexistent throat. “yeah. yes. you’re…yes.”

He’s so cute.

Sans reminds you so often of why you’re dating him and with the affection (and no small amount of relief) you’re feeling, you find it easy to say, “Well, that’s good, ‘cause I’m pretty attracted to you, too. Maybe you can show me sometime where your ‘good spots’ are…”

You didn’t think it was possible, but your flirty tone seems to make him blush even harder.

It’s adorable…but just in case that was a little too strong and he’s actually uncomfortable or something, you dial yourself back a bit.

“I mean, it doesn’t…have to be now, or anything,” you assure him, gently patting the arm he still has wrapped around you. “Just…cards on the table, y’know? Thought I should…make it clear I’m interested, for whenever y—”

“how about now?”

You pause, looking back up at Sans.

He still looks very shy, his skull literally aglow with it, but he meets your eye with impressive boldness for such an easily flustered skeleton.

“‘cause…that’d be…i’d like to…do that. with…with you…”

Oh…

………Oh!

“Are you sure?” you ask him, even though you’re smiling; even though you can already feel yourself getting eager just thinking about taking this step with Sans.

He’s someone you trust, someone you care about, and most importantly somebody you think you could have a lot of fun with.

It doesn’t hurt that you’ve already seen him with his shirt off and really liked what you saw.

If he’s ready, then…so are you!

Your excitement must be contagious—the blue on Sans’ face is starting to fade, being replaced by a crooked grin that looks…

“yeah,” he says, his baritone voice so low it makes you shiver. “i am…really, really sure.”

Your heart starts to beat faster. “Upstairs…?”

-

No sooner said than done, apparently.

You love having a boyfriend that can teleport because in the blink of an eye, you’re there—in Sans’ room, in his bed while he dips down to you for a nuzzle.

You smile and reach up to him, pressing your lips to his teeth and jaw with an eagerness that makes him chuckle.

You knew it would, just like you knew he’d lean back against his pillows and tug you up on top of him with an ease that swoops your stomach and makes you laugh, too.

This part is nothing new.

Smooching Sans is just as fun as it’s always been, easy to get lost in. The polished softness of bone against your lips is one of your favorite sensations, and his big hands petting along your body, gentle and exploring is pleasantly addicting.

This time, though…there’s something new in it, something charged in the air.

You can feel it behind every kiss and in every excited touch of phalanges, giddily skimming just beneath your clothes like getting to touch your bare skin is something Sans can’t quite believe he’s allowed to do.

You want more of it.

You push forward with your hands, shoving at the shoulders of Sans’ hoodie until the fabric starts to slide. Sans seems to realize your intention and he stops petting at you just long enough to pull his arms out of it, letting the well-loved jacket crumple underneath him on the bed.

Sans looks…different without the hoodie—more solid, more real somehow—and if your fingers hadn’t itched to touch him before, they certainly do now.

You don’t deny yourself the pleasure.

Sans hums happily when you dive back down to his mouth, kissing him even as you start to stroke along his clavicles through his t-shirt. He nuzzles at you a little harder, trying to chase you as you trail your lips down further, past his jaw and onto the thick vertebrae of his neck.

The bony discs are a new sensation against your lips, enticingly strange, and you find yourself peppering more and more kisses along the column of Sans’ throat, trying to commit it to memory.

You only pause when a particularly firm smooch makes him shudder, hard.

“Not good?” you ask, pulling back a little so you can actually look him in the eye-socket.

Sans isn’t looking at you, though.

He’s flushed again, his red eye-light angled down and to the left— nervous.

“it’s…fine,” he assures you slowly. “i, uh…that’s…maybe……one of my…spots?”

It takes you a second to process…and then you grin.

“A good one?”

Sans’ eye-light shrinks a little. He must remember hearing this tone in your voice before, at least once.

“………go easy on me…?”

Not a chance.

You lean in and give him another kiss, open-mouthed, and when you drag the flat of your tongue along his vertebrae he gasps.

You like that reaction.

You keep at it, mouthing at his neck with lips and tongue and the occasional graze of teeth—bone on bone that gets Sans breathing heavy and trying to press up into it.

When he starts to squirm, his fingers digging into your hips, you can’t help but feel powerful up here on top of him, learning how to take this gentle giant apart with your mouth alone.

The thought of how much more you could do…

It’s heady.

Sans still has his shirt on and that seems wrong so you start to tug at it, wanting it off.

“wait,” he pants, pulling back a little. “wait, i…you, too, okay? i…wanna see ya’…”

The sentiment behind the breathless admission hits you hard.

Sans wants to see you, too.

He wants to look at you, at your body that you’d never really thought was anything special and he even seems excited about it.

…Maybe he’s thinking the same thing about you right now, and that makes you smile: you’re just two goofballs, both delightedly confused that you want to undress each other.

“Sounds good to me,” you say, and then you’re peeling off your shirt, helping Sans out of his own and then…

There you are.

Both…topless in front of each other, just…looking.

He looks just as good to you as he did that day at the beach. His broad-set torso looks so sturdy, more like it was sculpted from marble than just a happy accident of bone, and it’s too alluring for you to resist.

You reach out, stroking your fingers over all the newly exposed territory: his clavicles, his sternum, the almost graceful curves of his ribs.

(You’re careful to avoid the ones toward the bottom. You remember he was ticklish there…)

Sans lets you explore, not particularly reacting to your touch. More than anything, he seems focused on you, his eye-light roving all over your bare chest and stomach like he’s trying to memorize you.

Maybe he is.

But he looks like he wants to touch you, too, and just…isn’t, so maybe he could use a little push.

“Hey,” you say gently and you want to laugh at the way he looks right up at your face, like a schoolboy caught staring out the window. “You can touch me, too, y’know. You’re not gonna get in trouble.”

“…eheheheheheheh…yeah? you’re not gonna snitch on me?”

“Pfft…!” This damn jokester of yours… “Not if you give me all your lunch money.”

“i’m broke, put it on my tab,” he says, but with the tension broken, he finally goes for it.

Sans reaches up to you, his hands framing your ribs with ease. They feel huge on your body, like he could just pick you up and move you however he wanted and the size difference between you is nothing new, but here, in this context, it’s…

Surprisingly hot.

You feel like you’re learning something about yourself, even as he starts to stroke along your chest, thumbing curiously at your nipples, skating his phalanges over your belly lightly enough to raise goosebumps…

Sans looks utterly riveted by it all.

“you’re so……soft,” he murmurs eventually, like it’s something to marvel at.

You laugh a little.

Literally any human must seem soft to somebody who’s made of bone, but you still find yourself flattered anyway. The way Sans says it makes it seem like a good thing and he keeps pawing at you, petting you like he’s so enamored by your body that he can’t stop.

There’s a clumsy eagerness to it that’s a little endearing…and a lot sexy.

You lean in, kissing him again except this time with your bare chest pressed up against his ribs. He nuzzles you back and by the way he flattens one of those big hands of his against the middle of your back, holding you tighter against him, you guess he likes the feeling as much as you do—skin on bone.

You want to know what else Sans likes.

“Where else is good, baby?” you mumble against his teeth. “Show me, help me out…”

“mmm…alright, twist my arm…”

But he grasps at your fingers and pulls them, guiding them down, down…

Into his rib-cage?

…Huh.

When Sans gently settles your fingertips against the underside of his sternum, you’re not sure what you’re expecting, but when you rub and he moans, you perk right up, utterly delighted.

You rub more, feeling the bone heat beneath your touch, and Sans quickly starts panting again. You explore a little with your other hand—the underside of his ribs doesn’t seem to do nearly as much for him, but when you reach his spine you know you’ve struck oil.

All you have to do is stroke the seams of his lower vertebrae—the lumbar ones, you think—and Sans’ whole body jolts, nearly bucking you off if not for the way you catch yourself on a rib at the last second.

He stares at you with wide eye-sockets, too stunned by his own reaction to be sheepish.

“……fuck,” he says emphatically. “didn’t…i wasn’t expectin—ghhk!”

You latch back onto his spine, not even bothering letting him finish. That was hot and you want to see what other reactions you can wring out of him.

Sans starts trembling, huffing when you go after his sternum again too, and your mouth on his neck makes that delightfully deep voice of his pitch higher than you’ve ever heard it go.

“mmnn, ba—nnh—baby…waaaait,” he practically whines, as if you weren’t already turned on. “come onnnn, sl—ohhhhh stars, fuck, i wa…i wanna…nngh…”

He trails off, breathing quicker and going almost limp against the pillows behind him and it occurs to you that you might actually be able to make Sans come, just from this.

The thought is tempting (and very, very sexy), but it seemed like Sans actually wanted to say something and far be it from you to keep him from it.

Sans groans when you back off, almost helplessly disappointed, and you smirk at him.

“What, baby?” you tease. “What’d you want?”

He doesn’t answer you right away; maybe can’t. There’s a glazed look in that red eye of his that makes you feel ready to pounce and it’s a real struggle to just sit there patiently while he catches his breath.

“i wa…i wanna make you feel good, too,” he slowly articulates. “lemme…lemme do that for you. show me how.”

You chuckle. “I don’t think I can feel that good as long as I’ve got pants on. Hang on a sec.”

Without even thinking about it, you slide yourself off of Sans and start to shimmy out of your pants and underwear. He sits up on his elbows to watch you, enraptured, and it’s not until you have everything off that you fully realize…

You’re naked, in front of Sans, your boyfriend…for the very first time.

Until right this second, you’d been riding pretty high on the confidence boost of making Sans unravel but now, much as you hate to admit it, you feel your self-consciousness starting to hit you.

You’re…not a model. You’re not a celebrity, either. You’re just you, and your body is…

You know what Sans said, about being attracted to you, but suddenly you can’t help but think that maybe now that he’s actually seeing all of you, it might not be…what he was hoping for.

“Uh…” You bite your lip a little, feeling your face heat. “I guess I’m, uh…haha probably a little different from the humans in…porn….”

“no kiddin’…”

…ouch.

But then Sans keeps talking.

“this is way better. stars above, you’re…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, like he’s at a legitimate loss for words and that’s…fine.

You didn’t need your heart, anyway.

Sans gets up, mattress springs creaking as he moves toward you. His eye-light is locked onto your body and you nearly remind him that your eyes are up here, but with the awed focus on his face right now, you’re not sure he’d care.

His phalanges reach for you, pausing tentatively halfway.

“i… can i…?” he asks, almost hushed.

You don’t know that anyone’s ever been so eager or so careful about touching you before.

Sans has such a knack for making you feel special.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

With permission, Sans touches you, nudging your legs apart. Butterflies in your stomach, you let him even though your heart pounds at the intent in his gaze as he pets along your inner thighs.

The first curious brush of his big fingers against your most sensitive areas makes you shiver…and suddenly, you think you must know what Sans felt like when you found some of his good spots.

The grin he gives you is downright wolfish—hungry.

“tell me,” he rumbles, so low and sultry that you feel yourself reacting to his voice alone. “tell me what you want me to do.”

Oh, stars…

“Don’t, uh…you don’t already know what to do?” you tease a little weakly. “You’ve seen human porn, right? It’s everywhere, you should be an expert by now.”

Sans snorts. “yeah, sure, i seen it. you’ve seen it, it’s just a lotta…slammin’, in-an’-out stuff that looks good for the camera.”

…Pfft, what a way to describe it!

“that ain’t real stuff,” Sans insists. “i’m askin’ what you want.”

There aren’t a whole lot of guys out there who’d ask a question like that when you were already naked in front of them.

Sans is such a sweetheart…

And if he really wants you to show him what you want, you think you can accommodate him.

“……babe?”

Sans doesn’t quite seem to understand what you’re doing when you crawl forward on the bed and turn your back to him, getting yourself settled between his femurs.

You turn your head straight up and find him looking down at you with a confused frown, but you just smile.

“You want to know what I like, right?” A purely rhetorical question, and you take Sans’ hand in your own, guiding it over you down to the apex of your thighs. “I’ll show you.”

His big, bony fingers are pliant beneath yours and curl easily just the way you want them. You feel him watching when you start to move his hand, tracking the pace, but it’s not long before your body starts responding to the attention.

You know what you like, the best ways to get yourself off, and for the first minute or two, it feels like Sans isn’t even there—just you and your practiced touch making pleasure hum through you, building slowly toward your peak.

It feels good and you start to relax, letting your eyes fall shut and resting your head on Sans’ sternum behind you.

You can’t quite say when Sans starts touching you without your help.

You jolt, gasping when he twists his fingers in a way you definitely weren’t guiding him to. It’s good, though, and not even the smug chuckle that vibrates through you from behind can ruin it.

“how’m i doin’?” he asks, in the tone of a man who knows he’s doing well. “s’it good?”

Of course it is.

His hand is still moving between your legs, just like you showed him, but it’s starting to feel…different. His fingers are so much bigger than yours, and you don’t think you’ve ever handled yourself with such slow, careful curiosity.

Knowing that it’s Sans—exploring you, playing with you, learning how to make you come—makes it feel like so much more than anything you ever did by yourself.

“stars, look at’cha,” he breathes, curling forward over you. “you’re incredible…you’re so hot…can’t believe you’re lettin’ me touch ya’ like this…”

You feel your body starting to really heat up, your breath coming a little harder. The part of you not yet wholly focused on your climbing pleasure manages to notice something very, very important.

Sans is talking way too much.

He’s still talking at all.

You can fix that.

You reach back, slipping your hand up into the cavity of Sans’ torso and blindly groping for his spine. You find it and start to rub at those sensitive seams again, making Sans choke on a gasp.

Finding your voice for a moment, too, you chastise him with a hissed, “Don’t stop!”

He obeys, his hand starting to move again between your legs but this time without any commentary: he’s too busy huffing for breath now as you clumsily stroke his spine.

The only noises you hear out of him are bitten-back groans and they’re music to your ears, fuel for the fire his fingers are stoking higher in you by the second.

You’re pretty sure Sans is right there with you. You can feel in it the way he curls over you a little tighter, nuzzling the top of your head and pawing at your chest with his free hand; touching you everywhere he can while you chase your orgasm together.

You catch it first, just like that—with Sans’ hands on your body as color explodes behind your eyelids, arching your back and knocking your head against his sternum.

If there’s pain, it mingles so completely with the pleasure that you don’t even notice, coasting high on sensation.

You lose your backwards grip on Sans’ spine, but your hand thoughtlessly catches on a rib and you squeeze, trying to ground yourself.

“hnngh…!”

Sans chokes, hunching down over you and apparently that was enough to push him over the edge, too.

The sound of his broken groan may be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

You hope you can remember it…or maybe just get to make him do it again another time.

The two of you spend a few long moments catching your breath together, bodies wrung out and slumped against each other for support.

When you finally speak, it’s simultaneous.

“Wow…”

“wow…”

…………

“Pfft, you goober!” you laugh, but Sans scoffs at you.

“i’m a goober?” he demands. “i think if anybody’s a goober, it’s you.”

You don’t understand the pun at first…but then Sans holds his hand out in front of you, still coated in the evidence of your orgasm and oh, stars, he probably thought that was so gross of you.

“Oh jeez, I…yeah, that happens when humans…there’s…I’ll just go get a t—”

Aaaand, he was already wiping it on his sweatpants.

Charming.

“—or you can do that, I guess…”

Sans settles his chin atop your head. “gonna take a lot more than a little slime to scare me off,” he declares, and for the subject matter, it sounds entirely too sweet.

Maybe for that, you’ll wash his sweatpants for him, so that doesn’t stain.

But the thought gives you pause, quickly followed by a wave of annoyance.

“Shit!” you exclaim, making Sans jump a little. “I didn’t even get your pants off! Damn it!”

As soon as he processes the words, Sans bursts out laughing.

“aww, babe,” he snickers, “seriously, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, you got to see me naked,” you protest, gesturing to your still very nude self. “I want to see you naked, too!”

Sans wraps his arms around you, hugging you close. “you’re not missin’ out on anything, i promise.”

“But—”

“ya’ ever seen one of those…naked plastic skeletons you guys put up everywhere when the leaves change?”

The mirth in his voice is hard to miss but, “Yeah…”

“s’exactly like that. ya’ seen one pelvis, ya’ seen ‘em all.”

You frown. “Really? There’s nothing…down there? Like a…uh.”

It occurs to you that you…may possibly be a silly, oversexed human, expecting a skeleton to have some kind of genitalia.

But before you can get too embarrassed about it, Sans casually adds, “i could make somethin’ for ya’, if ya’ wanted me to.”

“What, s…seriously? Like a…magic d—”

“magic dick, yeah.”

“I…how does…?”

“can show ya’ the tongue if ya’ wanna see how it works? m’pretty good at that one.”

Yes. Yes, you absolutely have to see this.

You twist in Sans’ grip, looking up and holy shit, there it is—a big, translucent blue tongue lolling out from between your boyfriend’s teeth.

You’re fascinated by the sight of it and reach up towards it.

When Sans doesn’t stop you, you actually touch it, just a curious little poke, and it’s…well, more or less what you’d expect a tongue to feel like. It's wet, a little slimy, but also strangely reminiscent of the time you’d shaken Grillby’s hand: something both there and not there at the same time. It seemed to be a lot smoother than a human tongue, too, without all the bumpy taste-buds.

“Can you…does it work?” you have to know. “Can you taste with it?”

The impossible tongue retracts, slipping back behind Sans’ teeth where it just seems to…disappear.

“yeah. it’s magic—it’s me, it does what i want it to. don’t need it to taste stuff, but it’ll do it if i got it out.”

…You can’t even begin to figure out how that makes sense. For your own sanity, you just put it down to ‘magic’ and try to let it go.

“So…magic dick.”

“yeah. if ya’ wanted.”

“Why no magic dick this time?” you ask. “Is it…snrk…is it like the ‘good china,’ you only…whip it out for special occasions?”

You can’t even keep a straight face asking the question. You can’t blame Sans for laughing at it, too.

“heheheh, you’re plenty special, babe,” he assures you. “tongue’s easy, i’ve done a tongue before. gotta research a little before i try something new.”

“‘Research,’” you echo, emphasizing the dubious quotations in your tone.

“haha, no, seriously, actual research. real unsexy, probably…diagrams an’ medical textbooks an’ shit. did the tongue look human to you?”

“No?”

“yeah, ‘cause i winged it.” Sans snuggles you closer against him even as he proposes to you a very philosophical question. “what d’you suppose it’d look like if i tried to mimic some human…stuff, without bein’ able to remember all the details?”

The first image to pop into your head is a semi-phallic…shape, resembling nothing so much as the cheapest, most terrible-looking dildo money could buy.

And then you try to imagine it in blue, suction-cupped onto your boyfriend’s pelvis.

“…hahaha… Hahahahahahaha! Oh no…!”

“i’ll assume by your laughter that whatever ya’ just thought of was hilarious an’ also the least sexy thing ya’ ever pictured in your life.”

You cover your mouth, trying to stifle the chuckling. “A little bit, yeah,” you admit.

“that’s why ya’ gotta let me mess around with it a little first,” Sans explains. “haven’t exactly paid a lot of attention to that stuff before. i can probably make somethin’ a little sexier, but i need the details for that. can’t make somethin’ out of magic unless i can recreate it in my head first—so now’d be the time to start thinkin’ if ya’ got any requests.”

…‘Requests’?

Oh.

The possibilities of that are…actually soberingly incredible, now that you think about it.

You’d never entertained a future where your partner could just…make anything for you, if you gave him enough time to work out how. Images were suddenly racing through your head, each sexier and more fantastical than the last.

Anything.

Amazing!

“if ya’ don’t wanna wait, though, i seen a lot of hot dogs, could probably do a pretty good one a’those.”

………

If it weren’t for Sans’ arms around you, you think you’d double all the way over with how hard your laughter hits you; hard enough to make you wheeze.

“A hot dog?! Shut up, you’re the worst!”

“heheheheh, don’t you mean ‘the wurst’?”

“Fffffffffff…!”

You can’t even tell him how much you hate him because you’re laughing too hard.

It’s probably just as well, since that would be a total lie.

Optionally canon scene to Fur a Good Time, Call…  Could take place anytime after Chapter 12, if you're looking to place it in the continuity. A sex scene--even one as fluffy as this--just didn't quite seem to fit in the vibe of the original story, so I left it out.

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

[write-havoc]

Of Sons and Daughters Ch. 4

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

One day, Arthur comes back in from a trip into town with a cart full of supplies. He had mended the wheels on Emmeline’s old wagon and hitched it to Sparrow and Miss Susie to make a run into Valentine.

Emmeline comes out to greet him once she hears his approach. “What’s all this?” She peeks into the wagon before Arthur comes up behind her.

“Well,” he takes off his hat to run his fingers through his hair, “I found a feller selling an old chicken coop and some chickens for a good price. Gotcha some feed. Picked up a few other things, too.”

“Chickens?”

“It might be a little more work, but you need more food here that you ain’t gotta buy. You ain’t exactly makin’ any money here.”

“Mama always managed.”

“Yeah well-“ He has to stop himself from saying that her mama was spending Dutch’s money. “Well... this way, you’ll always have food here.”

“Eggs do sound nice,” she admits.

Arthur hops up into the wagon and lifts a bag of feed up on his shoulder. Emmeline can’t help but notice how easy he makes it. Not to mention how his muscles bulge under his shirt at the effort.

He throws the sack down a little ways from the house. “Why don’t you throw some feed down for the chickens while I get their coop set up.” He pulls out his knife to cut the bag open before going back to the wagon to let the chickens out. The animals immediately go to Emmeline who is sprinkling on the ground.

She looks up to Arthur, who now appears to be struggling with the coop in the wagon. “Do you need help?” she asks.

He realizes now that he may have underestimated how cumbersome the thing is. “No, Miss Emmeline,” he replies through grunts.

She doesn’t take his word for it and goes to him to help. “It looks mighty heavy,” she comments as he maneuvers the coop to the edge of the wagon.

“It’s just,” he stands fully and wipes the sweat from his brow. “It’s hard to get ahold of.”

“I can help.”

He looks at her a moment before conceding. “Alright. Just don’t get yourself hurt.”

“I won’t.”

It takes a little bit, but they get the coop set up for the chickens and put the supplies away. After taking a little rest and checking the horses, Arthur finds Emmeline sitting under a tree not far away, writing in her book.

She looks up to him and notices the fishing pole in his hand. “You going fishing, Mr. Morgan?” she asks.

“No. We are.” He holds his free hand out to her. “This one’s for you. I bought it today.”

She takes his hand and stands from the ground with his help. “Oh. I...” She fidgets around with her hands. “I-I don’t know how.”

“I’m gon’ teach ya. As best I can, anyways.” He offers the pole to her and waits for her to take it.

“Okay.” She stretches out her hand and takes the collapsible fishing rod from him, her soft fingers brushing his calloused ones as she does. They both try to dismiss the pleasant contact and mount up quickly to head to the pond. It’s just a short ride as they follow the creek until it opens up into a big enough body of water to cast a line into.

“Here’s good,” Arthur throws over his shoulder to Emmeline as he pulls Sparrow to a stop.

They both dismount and take their matching fishing rods from their saddlebags. Arthur also sets down the bucket he had been carrying near the edge of the water. Emmeline watches as Arthur readies his fishing pole and follows the action, setting hers up in the exact same way. He rummages around in his satchel for a moment, producing a chunk of bread.

“Here.” He holds it out to her. “Put this on the hook. Careful not to stick yourself.”

She watches him bait his hook first before attempting to do it herself. She manages to get the bread on there without poking her fingers.

“Come up to the edge of the water,” he instructs.

They both come to stand a little ways apart before Arthur continues with his lesson.

“You wanna bring the pole back,” he demonstrates, “then flick it forward.” He casts his line a ways then reels in the slack. “Go ahead.”

“Okay,” she says nervously. She tries to do exactly what he said, but she’s too tense. The line ends up landing just a few feet into the water. “That... wasn’t very good,” she comments to herself.

He chuckles. “Reel it in and try again. Loosen up a little. And really flick it. You can’t do it slow.”

She lets out a breath and brings the rod back then throws it forward, allowing the baited hook to sail through the air. It doesn’t go as far as Arthur’s, but it’s a good ways from the edge of the pond.

“There ya go,” he calls out in encouragement. “Now reel it in real slow. Make the fish think that hook is something living and what they want to eat. If you just keep it in the water, they won’t get interested.”

She nods then follows his instructions. “You’re really good at this.”

He laughs with a shake of his head. “Nah. I really ain’t. If Hosea was here, he’d’ve caught ten fish by now.”

“Did he teach you?”

“ Tried to, anyway. I’m really just tellin’ you what I remember him sayin’ to me.”

“Well, I think he taught you well.”

“Haven’t caught one yet,” he comments as he recasts his line.

After several minutes, Emmeline feels a little pull on her line. “I think I got one!”

“It’s probably just a nibble. Wait ‘til you feel a tug down, then reel it in.”

When she feels the tug, she immediately starts to real it in.

“Slow down while it’s struggling or you’ll break the line,” he calls out then reels his line in and sets his pole down so he can help her.

She takes his tips and after a few minutes, she reels the fish to the shore. “I got it!”

Arthur bends down and picks the flopping fish up. “That’s a fine fish! Not bad for your first time.” He takes the hook out and hands it back to Emmeline.

She looks at it for a moment, happy that she managed to catch it. But the way its gills are moving and how it’s struggling has her heart clenching in her chest. She barely gives it a thought before she bends down to put it back in the water. The fish seems to count its lucky stars quickly swims away.

“Wh-What are you doing?!” He tries to stop her, but he’s too late.

“What?”

His brows are furrowed in confusion. “Why’d you throw it back?”

“I didn’t want it to die.”

He laughs a little. “Well that’s the point. How else are we gonna eat it?”

“Oh.” She looks down in embarrassment. “I just thought you were teaching me. I didn’t think we would actually be cooking it.”

“Why not? I’m tryin’ to get you to provide for yourself, here. It’s better than payin’ for it at the butcher’s.”

“Well.” She looks away a moment. “I didn’t want to be the one to kill it,” she admits softly.

He lets out a sigh. “You’re gonna hafta get used to it. What if your crops don’t grow and you don’t got the money to buy food? I got you those chickens to start. And there’s plenty of fish in this here pond to feed ya. After I leave, you’re gonna hafta take care of yourself.”

She nods after a moment. “I guess you’re right.” Thinking of Arthur not being there anymore brings a sudden heaviness to her chest. She has come to care about him greatly as well as rely on him.

“Fishing’s a lot safer than me teaching you to hunt. And if you can’t kill a fish, you sure as hell won’t be able to kill a rabbit. Or anything else.”

“That’s true. I don’t think I have it in me to kill such a creature like that.”

“You’re gonna have to toughen up if you want to make it out here on your own.” He picks his pole back up and recasts the line. “We’ll start with the fish.”

Arthur catches three fish before Emmeline gets another one. He has her take the hook out, which she tries to do as quickly as possible so she doesn’t hurt the fish.

“Is this one big enough or should I throw it back?” she asks, almost hoping he’d say it was too small.

“That one’s plenty big. Go ahead and throw it in the bucket with the others.”

She looks down at the fish in her hands. It’s still moving about, trying to get out of her grasp. “Sorry, little fella,” she whispers as she gently sets it in the bucket.

Arthur watches the exchange from the corner of his eye. He never met anyone with a gentler spirit than her. Here he is, a man that’s made his living robbing and killing people, standing next to a woman that didn’t even want to cause harm to a fish .

They gather up their supplies and mount up to head home. When they come within sight of the house, they notice a strange horse grazing in the yard and a man sitting on the front steps.

“Charles!” Arthur calls out with a smile as he and Emmeline ride up and dismount.

“Arthur.” The man rises from his seat and goes over to Arthur to clap him on the shoulder in a friendly way. “Good to see you.”

Emmeline stands by, waiting for her introduction.

“This is Miss Emmeline Turner,” Arthur says to the man, then looks over to Emmeline. “And this is Charles Smith.” He gestures to the newcomer.

Emmeline gives a small bow. “Nice to meet you, sir. Do you work for Uncle Tacitus, too?” she asks him, figuring that’s how he knows Arthur.

“Uh,” Charles give Arthur a quick look before answering. “Yes. I work with Arthur.”

“How nice!” She gives the men a cheery smile.

“Miss Emmeline,” Arthur holds out the bucket of fish, “will you please take this inside?”

“Of course, Mr. Morgan.” She takes the bucket and turns to enter the house, giving a little nod to Charles before doing so.

Charles and Arthur walk a ways away from the house before they start to talk.

“Dutch told me you were out here helping a down-on-her-luck woman.” Charles explains. “I wasn’t expecting her to be so young.”

Arthur realizes that Dutch hadn’t told Charles that the young woman was, indeed, his own illegitimate daughter. That’s not surprising, but now that Charles has met Emmeline, Arthur has yet another person to keep the secret of her parentage from.

Arthur lights up a cigarette. “What’s goin’ on?” he asks after taking a puff, figuring Charles didn’t ride all this way for a social call.

“We had to move camp. Micah had some tip on a ferry carrying a lot of money. He convinced Dutch to try to hit it. It... did not end well.”

“Micah,” Arthur seethes. “I knew that man was trouble.”

“We managed to get the money from the ferry, but there was a shootout. I don’t know if it was a setup,” he shakes his head, “but the law was all over the place.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Yeah.” Charles looks away for a moment. “The Callander brothers and Jenny... They’re gone. Sean got taken, but me and Javier got him back before they could hang him.”

“Shit.” Arthur scratches at his beard as he lets that sink in. He knew the Callander brothers would probably go out bloody at some point, but not Jenny. She was an innocent young woman.

“Posters for Dutch went up all over Blackwater pretty quick,” Charles adds, “dead or alive, so we had to leave. We ran all the way up into the mountains to avoid the law. Stayed up there for a bit ‘til we settled in a place Hosea knew called Horseshoe overlook.”

“I know it. It’s on the other side of Valentine.” Arthur takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette butt to the ground.

“Yeah. Not really that far from here.”

So the gang is much closer to Arthur now than they were in Blackwater. And they’re on the run. That’s not exactly welcome news.

Charles continues. “Dutch wants you to come back to camp. We had to leave all the money in Blackwater when we left and we’re low on supplies.”

“Shit,” Arthur mutters and looks back to the house for a moment. He has a duty to the gang, to Dutch. But he feels a sense of duty to Emmeline, too. He’s torn.

Charles picks up on his indecision. “We can bring her back with us.”

“No,” Arthur is quick to reply.  He doesn’t want her exposed to the outlaw lifestyle. Especially now that things are a lot more complicated for the gang. He hangs his head as he thinks. “We we were out fishing. Caught enough for the three of us to eat. Let’s have dinner and then I’ll ride out with you. And talk to Dutch.” He’s not excited to leave Emmeline, but he needs to check in with Dutch.

Arthur and Charles walk back into the house, finding Emmeline sitting near the fire. She turns to them with a smile on her face as they walk through the door.

“Mr. Smith, are you staying for supper?” she asks happily as she stands.

“Looks like it,” he answers cordially.

Arthur walks over to the bucket of fish now on the counter. “I’m gonna show you how to cook these,” he says to Emmeline.

Charles watches for a few minutes as Arthur goes through the steps of preparing and cooking the fish with the young woman. The gentleness Arthur is exhibiting with her is a side of him that Charles hasn’t seen too often. He knew that side was there in Arthur, but it hasn’t had much of a chance to present itself as of late.

As they eat the meal, Arthur is purposely avoiding telling Emmeline that he is planning on leaving tonight. Whether it will be permanent or temporary, he isn’t sure yet. But he needs to at least visit the camp, regardless.

After the plates are picked clean, Arthur ushers Charles outside so he can talk to Emmeline alone.

“Miss Emmeline,” he starts. “I need to ride out with Charles.”

“Okay,” she replies simply, not thinking through what he’s actually saying. “Will you be back tonight or in the morning?”

He scratches at the back of his head. “I ain’t sure. I need to check in at camp and... I ain’t sure when I’ll get back here. They need me.” He looks down at his feet. “It may be a while.”

She finally puts it all together. “You’re leaving?” She shakes her head as her eyes well up with tears. “You can’t leave.”

“Miss Emmeline...” He lets out a breath. “I have to. I’ll come back to check on you. Make sure you got food and everything. I promise.”

The tears start to fall down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to go.” She lunges forward and wraps her arms around him as if that could keep him there.

Things were hard for her after her mother died. She was alone for the first time in her life. Not just living alone, but alone in the world. She had no one to talk to. No one that cared about her. At her lowest, right before Arthur came to her, she had thought about ending her life.

But then Arthur did come to her. And she has grown quite fond of him. The thought of him having to go back to his life was always present in her mind, but she tried her best not to think about it. But now... He’s actually leaving and it feels like there’s a hole in her chest.

“Emmeline...” he almost whispers as he brings his arms up to hold her. He doesn’t want to go, either, but Dutch needs him. The gang needs him. “I’ll come back.” He pulls away to look her in the eyes. “I’ll come back,” he repeats.

She finally nods, knowing that he’s made up his mind. Not trusting her voice enough to speak, she steps forward to place a sweet kiss on his cheek, her goodbye to him.

Arthur closes his eyes at the contact. She had kissed him on the cheek plenty of times. Every time he left to go onto town, actually. But this one is a little different. This time, he really doesn’t want to leave.

Not long after, Arthur and Charles are on the road.

As they ride up the trail to the camp, Lenny calls out, “Who’s there.”

“Charles,” the man answers. “Arthur, too.”

“Welcome back, Arthur!” the young man greets.

After hitching Sparrow, Arthur finds Dutch standing by his tent near the center of the camp.

“Arthur,” the older man calls out and walks forward to meet him. “Follow me. We have some things to discuss.”

Dutch leads Arthur away from camp to the cliffs that surround it on the one side. He lights up a cigar before he speaks. “How is she?” he asks quietly.

“She’s-“ Arthur thinks of his answer a moment. “She’s not doing well,” he fibs, though he’s not willing to think why he’s not telling the full truth. “I’ve been trying, but.. She can’t make it on her own, Dutch. I really shouldn’t leave her for long.”

Sure, she certainly needs more practice with fishing and she doesn’t know much about the chickens yet, but Arthur is exaggerating just how dire her circumstances are.

“Shit,” Dutch mutters. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.” He takes a drag off his cigar. “Charles told you what happened in Blackwater?”

“Yeah. He told me Micah got you all in a heap of trouble.”

“It wasn’t Micah’s fault,” Dutch bites back. “It just all...” He lets out a huff. “There were more lawmen than we thought.”

“And the money? Charles told me you you had to leave it in Blackwater.”

Dutch nods his head hesitantly. “I need you to get it.”

“What?” Arthur shakes his head. “Are you crazy?!”

“Look.” Dutch digs his hand into his pocket and produces a piece of paper, handing it over to Arthur.

Arthur unfolds it and sees that it’s Dutch’s wanted poster. Dutch Van Der Linde is in big black letters. Wanted Dead or Alive sits underneath it. Beneath Dutch’s likeness is more text. Known associates also wanted: Hosea Matthews, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, John Marston, Marion “Bill” Williamson, Javier Escuella

“ So, no one can set foot in Blackwater,” Arthur comments.

Dutch points down to the poster. “ You’re not on there.”

Arthur looks back down at it. Sure enough, his name isn’t written with the rest of them.

“Everyone knows I run with you, Dutch.”

“You haven’t been with us in weeks, son. And you barely set foot in Blackwater before you left. The law either thinks you’re dead or you’re running elsewhere,” Dutch explains. “You’re the only one I can trust with this. I can’t send the women out to get that money. They’d get themselves killed.”

“I don’t know, Dutch,” Arthur replies lowly with a shake of his head. “It might be a trap.”

“It ain’t a trap, son. No one but us knew where we kept our money. Least of all the Pinkertons. This is an opportunity , Arthur.” He pats him on the chest. “An oversight on the law’s part and we’re going to exploit it. Get the money we’ve all worked so hard on and-“

“Move out to California,” Arthur completes the sentence.

Dutch pauses a moment. “Yes. California or some place else. Somewhere where we can live free .”

Arthur lets out a sigh. He had always done everything Dutch had ever asked of him without question. But now, he’s having doubts.

“We can make more money...” Arthur starts.

“We have the money, Arthur. In Blackwater. I just need you to do as I ask and get it back.” Dutch sets his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “We need that money, son. The camp is low on food. Jack fell ill on the trek from the mountain. Used up most of our medicine.”

Arthur shakes his head and looks away, but he already made the decision. “I’ll head out in the morning.”

Dutch places his hand on Arthur’s cheek. “Thank you, son.”

“After I get the money back, I want to check on Miss Emmeline.”

Dutch pulls back for a moment. “Is there something you need to tell me, Arthur?”

Arthur furrows his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I sent you out there to get Emmeline back on her feet, not sweep her off them,” he replies with some venom.

“It ain’t like that, Dutch.”

“Just because I haven’t been in that girl’s life, it don’t mean I ain’t her father. So you make sure it stays not like that .” Dutch turns around and heads back to camp without looking back.

Arthur watches as Dutch walks way. The conversation he just had rattles around in his head. He has a place here in the gang. He has a job. He’s supposed to be the one that follows Dutch’s orders. Faithfully. Without question.

So why does he feel so conflicted.

Arthur mills around the camp catching up with people before settling down in the tent Miss Grimshaw set up for him. Before he lays his head down, he pulls out his journal to write an entry.

Got called back to camp. It seems that Micah somehow convinced Dutch into a harebrained robbery of a ferry carrying a lot of money. Predictably, it went south. Poor Jenny and the Callander boys lost their lives. And the camp is low on funds and supplies.

Dutch pulled me back in to go and collect the money that was left in Blackwater. I guess, because I’ve been staying with Miss Emmeline, the law don’t think I’m with the gang no more. Which means I ain’t got a price on my head for the robbery. And hopefully I won’t get shot the second I set foot in the city.

Leaving Miss Emmeline was harder than I thought it would be. Even now, I want to ride off to check on her, but the gang needs me. Dutch needs me here right now. After I bring back the money tomorrow, I’ll check on her.

After that, I’m not sure what will happen. It seems if we get back the money in Blackwater, we’d have enough to buy us some land out west and actually settle down. Maybe Miss Emmeline could come with us. If we’re just ranchers or whatever we’re gonna be out there, she could be there, too. We won’t be outlaws no more.

She wouldn’t have to be with me. Dutch is right. She shouldn’t be with me, but she could still be part of the camp after we go straight. I know she’s smart enough to live out in her house on her own, but I don’t want her to. I don’t want her to be alone. I’m sure she don’t want to be alone, either.

Of course, none of that is gonna happen if I can’t get into Blackwater and get out with the money.

He sketches a picture of Emmeline smiling happily after she had caught her first fish, the hem of her dress soaking up the water at the edge of the pond.