#nobody else is gonna post shit in the tags might as well fill them up

[coffee-at-annies]

Please look at my average sized short king (he’s 5’9) jump into the arms of 6’4, certified big boi™️, Rowdy Tellez. Look at him being all smiles and high fives for winning us the game. 🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

[bigskydreaming]

Seven Sentences Game

Challenge: post the last 7 sentences you wrote and tag 7 people

Tagged by @romanticism-is-maudlinism so here’s a bit I wrote for It’s The End of the World As We Know It (I Don’t Feel Fine), part of my Ric Grayson fix-it series Bury Your Dead. This part is Jason and Cass because I absolutely love pitting the two of them against each other as I view them as capable of getting under each other’s skin in a way nobody else can. Also, they’re not having a good day here, and they’re letting it out.....another part of their dynamic in my view is I see them as being unafraid to NOT pull their punches with each other, emotionally speaking.

Tagging @rose-blooms-red and whoever else still hasn’t done this, since I’m like, days behind lol. Also, its been way too many days since I opened up a WIP document so I used this to just start writing and I’m just posting what I wrote instead of just seven sentences. Also also, counting is hard.

******

“You used me.” Jason voiced the realization with what he thought was admirable aplomb, all things considered. He didn’t even reach for his gun or anything. Course, if that had less to do with the fact that this was his sister and more that this was his sister who would just take his gun away and smack him with it if he ever drew on her, well. No one would ever know. This was his internal monologue, dammit.

For her part, Cass said nothing. Not that he’d expected her to. Most people assumed her carefully constructed silences were all just a control freak issue born of her aphasia, but they were a conversational tactic in and of themselves. Leave no trait unweaponized, after all. 

That was their family credo, wasn’t it?

“That’s why you pulled me into this instead of doing it yourself. It was never about doing this together. It was because all your information gathering resources run through B or Oracle’s networks, and they would have wanted to know why you were looking into these particular names. But you know I have my own networks for when I want their noses butting out of my affairs, so you outsourced to me.”

Lacking little sister’s comfort with the quiet, Jason filled it with his continued musings, as he circled her like a creeper. Then he stopped the circling because her refusal to shift even to track his movements made it impossible to avoid being aware of the ‘like a creeper’ part while doing that. Ugh, she was just the worst.

“Were you looking for a denial?” She asked at last. Her bored tone made it obnoxiously anticlimactic.

“Nah, just pointing out that you’re as manipulative as the rest of us, oh much vaunted ‘best of us.’“

She smiled sharply. “I see that now Dick’s not here to project your insecurities onto, you’ve shifted them to me. Fun.”

Damn. He’d been mostly going for some kinda annoying sing-song rhyme thing there, but he might have to give her that point regardless. Fucking Freudian slips.

“And I know who I am,” she said. “The only one here afraid of a little introspection is you.”

“Challenge accepted!”

Cass rolled her eyes.

To be fair, the dramatically pointed finger might have been a bit over the top.

“See, you know what’s still curious to me? The why of it all. Why you’ve been going to such great lengths uncovering these little secrets of Dick’s, leaving no stone unturned when it comes to his potential unfinished business. Why you were so worried that Julienne might have been his. And you know what I think?”

She raised an eyebrow sarcastically. Jason didn’t know how else to describe it, but it was definitely what happened. That was a sarcastic eyebrow raise.

“I think its because you feel guilty.”

“Guilty,” she repeated, with a full speech’s worth of skepticism packed nice and tight into just the two syllables.

“Yup. Guilty. Because you don’t want there to be any reason he has to go back to being Dick Grayson,” he said with a flourish, relishing the way her gaze narrowed. "Anything making him feel an actual need to get his memories back. Because you don’t want him to be Dick Grayson. You want him to stay Ric. And you feel guilty about that, but its the truth all the same.”

“And why would I want that?”

“Because you want to keep believing I’m just an outlier.”

She stilled, which was a testament to him for being able to note the difference at all. Muscles vibrating with the faintest of microtensions. Here there be dragons.

Just meant he was right.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You’ve always been able to explain away the old man’s certain....aggressiveness towards me because of how much time I’ve spent physically at odds with the fam. Muddies the water. Makes it hard to see clearly where its just him reacting to a potential threat to his family and where he’s being the threat. But what if its not just me?”

Again, still, additionally, she remained quiet.

“And I think you know its not. I think you’ve suspected for awhile, even. But there’s a difference between knowing, and knowing.....and as long as Dick is still Ric, there’s no way to really know, right? But with all the dots he’s dropped without being able to connect them the way people with more of the whole picture can, like us.....once he gets his memories back, you couldn’t just not ask anymore. You’d have to know, once and for all. And you don’t want that. You’re afraid of that point of no return, because once past it, you might have to face that what you see when you look at B isn’t all there is to him. And if you can be that wrong about him? Well. You could be wrong about everything. And I think that scares the shit out of you, so yeah. You want Dick to stay Ric, and you feel guilty as fuck about it, but that doesn’t change the facts. And that’s what I think.”

She pursed her lips, the portrait of calm acceptance as she absorbed his tough love or total bullshit, depending on your point of view, and nodded once. Great. He was out here laying down harsh truths like he was.....someone who lays down a lot of stuff, whatever, look he was exhausted from all that unpacking, leave him alone, he needed to rest, but the point was.....all that and the best he got was a fucking nod? Screw it. Next time he was just gonna cut his losses and try for getting blood from a stone instead. Felt like that’d be more rewarding. Might see some actual dividends there.

Cass raised her hands and started making swift, fluid gestures that took him an embarrassing couple seconds to recognize as speech. Never as quick to transition from spoken word to signed as she was, he was left mentally running to catch up. Course, he suspected that was at least partially her intent.

“That’s what I love about you, little brother. Even when you have no clue what you’re talking about, you’re not afraid to commit and take it all the way.”

Punctuating with a middle finger, she pivoted sharply and stalked off into the darkness, vanishing within seconds. 

Ever the conversationalist, his sis.

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 4 (working title)

I think I like this title but I can’t decide so don’t kill me if it changes!

also, you guys are amazing. your love for this lil fic makes me feel so happy. I’ve never written this much this fast for a side project. it’s actually starting to take over all of my writing so I might have to slow this roll a bit and catch up on my actual novel before I can post most. 

or maybe I’ll just lean into the insomnia writing even more! stay tuned to see!!

as always, lemme know if you wanna be added to the tag list! @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles (hey lookie there, a title! also sorry not sorry you cried, but at least you were in good company with me and Julie), @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​,  @kat-maybe-not​

Later that night, long after her father and Carlos had gone to bed, Julie crept out to her mom’s studio. She knew she was going to have to tell her dad about the music program eventually. She was shocked her Tía hadn’t beat her to it already. She needed something positive to offset the disappointment he would feel. Her dad had been gently prodding her to go out to the studio and at least maybe clean it up a bit for weeks now. He would love this improvement, that is, if she could work up the nerve to actually play. Sheet music clutched in her numb hands, she wrenched the studio door open. It was exactly as she remembered it.

Her eyes slipped shut as she stepped inside. She didn’t need to look to know where the couch, coffee table, and chairs would be gathered. She knew exactly how to avoid bumping into the ladder leading up to the loft. Her hand reached out just in time to catch on the fabric covering the piano, Julie allowing her fingers to lead her down the side of it until her pinky brushed a key. One soft note rang out, and her eyes opened, staring down at where she pressed lightly on the white key.

Her feet moved on their own, skirting around the bench, her knees bending automatically as she lowered herself to sit. A tight sensation built in her chest, her breaths picking up speed. The sheet music shook as she forced herself to lift the pages and spread them out on the music rack. She arranged the piece in the correct order, wasting time as she avoided touching the keys for now. Her eyes traced over the song again, her mind showing her exactly how her hands would dance along the instrument, exactly how her voice would reverberate in the silent space. Her gaze snagged on her mom’s final message once more.

You can do it.

Warmth blossomed in her chest, replacing the cold, lifeless feeling that had lingered there for the last year. Julie felt it all at once. Her mother’s love shining off of the pages in front of her, filling up all of the empty spaces inside of her. She could hear her voice, whispering those words in her ear. Tears sprang to her eyes again, but they were different this time.

Julie had thought that she would never be able to play without her mother because she never had. Every defining moment of Julie’s life was underscored by a soundtrack mastered by the one and only Rose Molina. She had thought that without her mother, the music would fall flat. She had thought it would be meaningless without the significance her mother, specifically, attached to it. Julie never realized until this moment that she had been the soundtrack to her mother’s life as well. The two of them, the soundtrack to her brother’s and father’s lives. It hadn’t only been Julie suffering for the last year.

A new type of determination surging through her veins, Julie placed her hands on the cool keys, lining her fingers up with the opening notes. Her mother deserved to be remembered like this, her music recognized and loved by more than just Julie. She would have hated the fact that Julie hadn’t played in so long, would have given her that sad smile, that soft, disappointed mija sigh. Her family deserved to come out of the silence she had forced upon them. They deserved to enjoy music the way they always had before Rose died. It was cruel the way she had taken it away from them. And Julie herself deserved this moment too. She had been punished long enough. Her mother’s love overwhelming everything else, Julie took a deep breath and began to play.

Here’s the one thing I want you to know

You got someplace to go

Life’s a test, yes

But you go toe-to-toe

You don’t give up, no

You grow

The opening was shaky, her fingers clumsy as they stumbled over the unfamiliar notes. Her voice cracked a bit, rusty from disuse. But then muscle memory took over, and Julie felt the tension drain from her body. Her fingers began to move with a mind of their own as she read the notes on the pages in front of her, voice smoothing out as she worked out the frogs. She made it through the pre-chorus easily enough, but the chorus hit her harder than expected. Like her mother was giving her permission to forgive herself for all of the hurt of the last year, reminding her that it’s who you are at your core that matters most. Telling her she still had the time to pull herself out of this spiral. That old message about how the music was always bigger than just the two of them coaxing her out of the shell she had hidden herself away in for the last year.

Better wake those demons

Just look them in the eye

No reason not to try

Life can be a mess

I won’t let it cloud my mind

I’ll let my fingers fly

Her fingers really were flying. She couldn’t even really feel the keys anymore, so sure as she pressed down against the ivory that she didn’t even have to look at the sheet music. Her eyes closed, head lifted as she belted the pre-chorus into the sky. The chorus hit again, but she was ready for it this time, emotion powering every line as she poured her heart and soul into each note. Visions of her mother filled her mind and Julie could practically feel the warmth of her love radiating throughout the studio. She glanced down to read the lines for the bridge and the words hit her like a sledgehammer. Like a secret letter from her mother written exactly for this specific moment.

So wake that spirit, spirit

I wanna hear it, hear it

No need to fear it, you’re not alone

You’re gonna find your way home

Her voice rang out pure and clear as she held the word as long as she could. Home. She really was home now. Here, in her mom’s familiar studio, playing the last song her mother’s hands touched, Julie was finally home again. The sense of rightness filled her completely as she finished the last round of the chorus. Her hands dropped from the keys, reaching out to gather the papers to her chest once more, the most precious treasure she had ever touched. 

Eyes closed, basking in the afterglow of playing, she imagined her mother’s spirit behind her, ghostly arms wrapping her in the sweetest hug. Julie shivered against the electricity coursing through her system. She felt alive again. An unexpected clatter sounded from the doorway. Julie’s eyes popped open, anticipating Carlos or her father walking through the doors. Nobody appeared, but she caught the tail end of a muffled curse. It was just loud enough to send a ripple of awareness through her.

“I can hear you, you know.”

She already knew who it was. She expected him to beat a hasty retreat, maybe yell something out in a horribly disguised voice before he melted into the shadows. Without warning, he appeared in the doorway, shoulders raised and a sheepish smile on his face. His eyes darted around the studio, refusing to meet hers. Her mouth fell open. Where does he keep appearing from?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, I just...I heard you playing?”

He said it like a question, an unsure tone she’d never heard him use before coloring his tone. She watched the way his bicep flexed as his hand rose to scratch at the back of his neck. That seemed to be his nervous tick. His body language told her he wished he was anywhere else right now. Then she glanced at the clock.

“What the hell are you doing creeping around my house at 1:00 in the morning?”

Luke’s cheeks turned bright red. The tips of his ears, peeking out of that same orange beanie, colored too.

“I’m not creeping!” Julie met his gaze steadily, raising a brow at his defensive declaration. “I uhhh, I just...I don’t really sleep? Or...well I guess...I don’t really have a place to sleep...sometimes...?” 

His voice trailed off, uncomfortable in every sense of the word as he stammered his way through his explanation. 

“My parents and I don’t always get along. Sometimes it’s easier to tell them I’ll crash somewhere else, only there isn’t always a somewhere else available.” 

He shrugged, careless and cocky, but it was off. Everything about him was off right now. 

“I make do. It’s no biggie, just gives me more time to soak in the club scene. Gotta stay one step ahead of the competition, ya know? It’s like a blessing really, gives us that edge.”

His rambling words painted a picture she was sure he would rather keep private. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. She didn’t buy his cavalier attitude for a minute. He was lying through his teeth. She knew. She had been lying for a year straight to practically everyone in her life, had nearly rotted her teeth through with all the saccharine sweetness she had faked. Her lips twisted in a sour smirk.

“You’re full of shit, but whatever. That couch pulls out into a mattress. You’ve gotta be gone by 6:30, that’s when my dad wakes up for work.”

“What?”

The squeakiest note yet. Julie looked Luke square in the eyes. That same intense energy from the other day sparked between them. The moment stretched on a beat too long. Julie gulped and forced herself to soften her tone. It was easier than expected.

“Stay here for the night, Luke. I’m not gonna ask about your parents, and no one is going to bother you in my mom’s studio. Sleep on the pull-out couch. There’s a bathroom in the back. It even has a shower and I think there’s still some soap in there though I can’t promise it isn’t floral scented. You can disappear in the morning and we won’t ever speak of this again.”

He stared at her, blue-green sea glass eyes cutting through to her very soul. She didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch and morph into something entirely too intimate. The tension between them pulled taut, Luke’s gentle smile breaking the moment as he took a few shy steps into the studio.  Julie ducked her head, tucking a few loose curls behind her ear, before she moved to meet him in the middle of the room, gracefully spinning around his body so her back was pressed against the doors. Their eyes caught again. One of those strong hands reached up to scratch at his neck once more.

“Thank you.”

The words were a quiet whisper, almost as sweet as when he returned the song to her earlier. She could hear everything he left unsaid with those two words. Thank you for not asking. Thank you for giving me a safe space. Thank you for caring. Unable to help herself, she bit her lip, gave him a small nod, and ducked out of the doors in a near perfect recreation of his response outside of the school that afternoon.

Heart a little lighter, she sneaked back into the house silently. It wasn’t until she was safely tucked away in the darkness of her bedroom that she dared peek out the window at the studio. The lights were off, but Julie swore she could make out a shadowy figure peering through the windows up at her room. She dropped her curtain like it was on fire, diving into bed and burying her head under the pillows. Heart racing, she laid with her eyes closed and tried to convince herself that Lucas freaking Patterson wasn’t slowly making himself a home in her heart.

[jasmine-tea-latte]

Since nobody asked for my input, here’s a lovely PSA for antis in general, because some of y’all need a reminder / a reality check.

(Excluding the folks who properly tag stuff as anti-__, of course, because that’s the whole point of that tag.)

Also, please note that I’m not saying don’t engage in debates ever or feel like you should be silent about subjects that matter to you. Create dialogue! Learn from other people! By all means, share your POV! Discuss the numerous other things you’re passionate about. Speak your mind.

Also, this is not in reference to critical thinking posts regarding fandom content or metas. This is about being an ass on a post that harms absolutely no one.

This post is strictly about how we consume media for entertainment (I.e. ship preferences) and how, if you’re constantly seeing posts pop up for something you hate yet you keep diving into the tags of said thing and feel compelled to comment on it, especially if it’s that stupid “No❤️” shit - congratulations, you’re playing yourself, and I’m about to show you why.

Also, the point of this post is not to be holier than thou or overtly preachy. I posted plenty of obnoxious stuff on fandom forums back in the day, so learn from my mistakes, okay?

Here’s something you need to understand right here, right now:

You are responsible for cultivating your own internet experience.

Don’t like seeing tons of posts about a show / ship / topic you dislike or have no interest in?

Don’t interact with it.

Just keep scrolling along.

I’m serious.

Let it go.

Devote your time and energy on things you do enjoy and let the fans of whatever it is that you hate enjoy that thing in peace.

Take for instance pecan pie. I hate pecan pie with a passion. Guess what I’m not going to do, though? Go over to a forum or group of people who like it and start screaming about how gross it is and how anyone who likes pecan pie is a terrible, horrible person.

Because why waste my time deliberately going somewhere that I don’t have to be and know I won’t like, picking fights and being an asshole in general?

But if it’s posted in a public forum it’s up for debate, I hear you complain.

Yeah, so?

What do you honestly think you’re going to accomplish by raining on someone else’s parade?

Seriously, I’m asking you, what do you really think is going to happen if you waltz up and start yelling at fans of something about how they’re stupid or awful for liking XYZ?

What’s it going to cost you to keep scrolling and find something that sparks joy instead of rage?

Answer:

If you’re lucky (that is, if you present a well-thought out and cohesive argument) then you might convince some people over to your side.

But realistically in the best case scenario, you’d have a civil debate where absolutely no one changes their mind.

If that’s what your goal was, congrats! You successfully shared your opinion without making yourself look like an asshole who has nothing better to do with their time than pick unnecessary fights and looking to stir shit up just because you’re bored.

But if you go up to a table of people chowing down on pecan pie and tell them that they’re stupid for liking it when cherry / chocolate / whatever pie flavor that floats your boat exists, guess what’s gonna happen?

You will get eyerolls and be considered a douche, but no one will give an actual fvck what you have to say.

I straight up insulted a group of fans for liking something I hated and I did so by going out of my way over to their corner of the fandom. AITA?

Yes, YTA (you’re the asshole) in this scenario.

There’s a post floating around out there explaining how you wouldn’t walk into an Italian restaurant and yell about how you don’t like the food and that you’d rather eat at the Chinese restaurant across the street.

Who in their right mind would do that? Nobody, that’s who, and that’s what you look like deliberately poking around a fandom you hate to cause discord.

Also pro tip: you’re ultimately shooting yourself in the foot when you do obnoxious things like that.

The more you interact with a certain topic or spend time posting about it online, the more you’ll see of it, because that’s how the algorithms work.

It doesn’t matter if you post “I love pecan pie!” or “pecan pie is the worst!”

All that algorithm picks up on is the keyword “pecan pie” so if you hate it? Guess what, you just served yourself another slice of crap and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.

A few years ago some people on Facebook got sick and tired of seeing Buzzfeed constantly post about KUWTK. Which I get, because idgaf about them, tbh - don’t hate them but don’t care, either. But someone decided to fill the comment sections of those posts with pet pictures as a protest of sorts to prove that literally anything else was more entertaining. Yeah that’ll show them!

Except that it didn’t matter that all of their comments were irrelevant. The algorithm just saw a bunch of traffic on the KUWTK posts, which in turn caused Buzzfeed to post about them even more. It turned into a cycle of self destruction by the commenters, because the more they posted pet pics, the more traffic they gave to the very posts they wanted to destroy.

Hence why I preached earlier about how I keep scrolling whenever I see a post for a ship or movie / show / other media for something I dislike. Because guess what happens? It goes away and I only see posts for things I dislike on rare occasions.

Also, the block / hide option is sitting right there, folks.

I just don’t understand the mindset of someone who spends all their time online complaining about a ship / show / media and actively seeks it out to further spread their discontent, then is Suprised Pikachu when the topic keeps showing up in their recommended lists.

Look, I’m ultimately here to have fun and interact with other fans of media that I enjoy. I’m not here to tell you what to do or how you should use your time. If going out of your way to antagonize fans of the thing you despise fills you with warm and fuzzies then don’t let me stop you if that’s how you actually choose to live your life. Some people just want to watch the world burn, so you do you, boo.

But the fact of the matter is that you can waste your time whining about how gross pecan pie is or you can choose to spend your time by promoting the kind of pie you do like, cultivating a much more pleasant experience for yourself, not to mention peace of mind.

You don’t win the pie war by hijacking posts and acting like a tool. You win it by creating content of your favorite pie until it outnumbers the kind you dislike.

Plus, if you put out more posts praising and promoting things you do like, it’ll help the algorithm suggest more content that you actually would enjoy.

Yeah but it’s my right to do that! I hear you argue just for the sake of being argumentative or because you genuinely enjoy the attention that it gets you. So I have to ask,

Why are you making yourself mad when you could make yourself glad instead?

Basically what I’m saying is that when it comes to spewing contrarion opinions in a forum for the sake of causing drama:

The world is a shitty enough place at times already, and fandom is meant to be fun.

Stop seeking out things you hate and then bitch about seeing them. Love yourself and take care of your mental health.

Don’t be that asshole.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

And now, I’m off to go find some delicious key lime pie and be thankful that it’s not pecan.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Twice Bitten, Never Shy

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

My mind is going blank for things to say about this part. Maybe I’m tired. Anyway, the boys have themselves a couple of new allies, and just in time to get attacked again! Timing! And that’s about all I can think of. Besides, I feel like my descriptions are getting long, so I’ll just stop. Hope you enjoy reading ^-^

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Previous Season Three story: Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads

Taglist (finally): @bupine​ @violet--majesty​

“Sorry for dropping in on all of you like this. But we really need to talk.”

For a moment, everyone just stared at the person who’d just walked into the room. The same magician from...was it really just earlier that morning? One of the ones they’d fought with, the one named Delyth Mae. It took a moment to sink in. And then everything burst.

Schneep shot to his feet, wielding his scissors like a knife blade. JJ threw his hand in an arc, conjuring a shield right in front of Delyth, in case she tried to cast any spells. Chase cried out and tried to stand up but was dragged back down by Jackie still clinging to his arm. Jack scrambled backwards, tripping over the chair’s arm in an attempt to back away. “What are you doing here?!” Schneep snarled.

Delyth looked unfazed. She raised her hands like she was surrendering. “I said we need to talk,” she repeated calmly.

“You tried to kill us!” Chase squeaked.

“No,” Delyth emphasized. “That was never the plan. It wasn’t even the plan to fight you unless you were hostile. Tavish and Nairne were out of line, and I’ve removed them from this team. Now, I hope to approach this diplomatically.”

Schneep barked out a laugh. “You think we are going to trust you—”

JJ lowered the shield.

“Jay what the fuck?!” Chase shouted.

“Wait, what? What just happened?” Schneep asked, suddenly shifting his mood to confused.

“Your friend seems to be reasonable,” Delyth said, stepping further into the room. “I’m so sorry to impose on you, Mr. Akela.”

“Uh...no, it’s fine,” Malcolm said, remaining in the doorway. “I’m just...gonna...wait here.” He looked visibly awkward, standing in the entrance to his own commandeered living room.

“Hey, uh, JJ, I appreciate your...trusty-ness,” Jack said, warily edging around the room. “But is this a good idea?”

When the other two magicians were fighting us, she was trying to stop them, JJ remembered. I think she’s willing to talk it out, at least.

“She tried to stop the other two who were fighting us, huh?” Jack repeated. “I guess that makes sense.”

Schneep grumbled, but lowered his scissors. “Fine, but I will stay on my guard.”

Delyth walked yet further into the room, now standing in the center. She looked around, and her eyes landed on Jackie. “Oh hello.”

Jackie blinked. “Do I...? No, I definitely don’t know you.”

“Just say why you are here,” Schneep prompted.

“Well, last time, I told you about the unusually high levels of soul magic in the city.” Delyth folded her hands. “I believe you may know something about it. If you would give us information, I give you my promise, the ABIM will do everything we can to help you with any troubles you may have.”

“Huh...I guess that could be helpful,” Chase said reluctantly. “If you’re telling the truth.”

“Of course I am!” Delyth’s tone became suddenly impatient. “Look, we’ve been chasing this soul magic for a long time now, people above me want results. I’m sure we can help.”

“Uh...well I guess it might be good to have some magical knowledge when it comes to this.” Jack held up the water bottle with the duct-taped lid.

“Jack, please,” Schneep said, exasperated.

“Oh, sorry, Hen, I’m just talking about the strings,” Jack said.

“Well, I could get context clues, but still.” Schneep hummed. “I suppose you are right.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement, then,” Delyth smiled. “Now. Can you please tell me what—wait, hold on a second.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small tape recorder. “I have to record this as a testimony. None of you mind, do you?”

I would like to point out that you can’t record me, JJ immediately said.

“Yeah, JJ uses sign language, how’s that gonna work?” Chase asked.

“Well I suppose one of you will have to translate,” Delyth said. “Other than that, is everything okay?” Everyone made sounds of agreement, though Schneep’s was a bit reluctant. “Great.” Delyth pressed a button on the recorder. “This is Delyth Mae, member of the Magi, Investigation Level 4. Case 3-10100703. Witness interview for information. Please state your names for the record.”

Uh...” Jack blinked, and glanced around at the others. “I’m, uh...Jack McLoughlin.”

“I’m Chase,” Chase says, now squirming to adjust positions while Jackie was still refusing to let go. “Chase Brody.”

“Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein,” Schneep states clearly. “And this is our friend Jameson Jackson, who unfortunately cannot talk for your recorder.” JJ waved.

“Thank you. Now, two of you, Mr. McLoughlin and Mr. Schneeplestein—”

“Doctor,” Schneep said tersely.

“Sorry, Dr. Schneeplestein.” Delyth paused. “Out of curiosity, what are you a doctor of?”

“I...was a surgeon,” Schneep said slowly.

“Well, the two of you give off distinct signatures of soul magic, is that correct?”

“Apparently,” Jack laughed nervously.

“And on that basis, I thought that you may know something about the high levels of soul magic in the city.” Delyth seems to be providing an explanation for the tape recorder. “Now, can you tell me what that is, that you know?”

Nobody really wanted to start. But after a moment of admittedly awkward silence, Chase said, “Well, I guess it started with this guy and his roommate.” Chase pointed to Jackie. “This is...well, he’s a friend of ours.”

“What’s your name, sir?” Delyth asked.

Jackie blinked. “I’m—we’re—I’m Jackie. But I think I—we—I have more names than that.”

“Look, it’s a long story,” Chase interrupted. “Just...don’t say anything until we’re done.” And he started to explain.

— — — — — — —

Someone was walking through the city streets. It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and a lot of people were out, pedestrians and drivers alike. But no one seemed to notice him. Which was unusual, you would think a man wearing half a mask, stained blue and shaped like a cat face, with green string stitching across his neck, eyes glimmering blue and green and occasionally red...you would think a man like that would be noticeable.

He was heading somewhere. He wasn’t sure where, but he could feel it tugging at him. Like a string pulling him to a destination. Though he didn’t know where he was going, he knew what would be on the other end of the string. More pieces of him. They were all together.

A woman was following him for a while. Until she noticed he was going in a straight line. Directly straight, cutting through alleyways and yards whenever he could. Puzzled, she opened up a map of the city on her phone, tracing a straight line in the direction he was heading. There wasn’t really anything important in that part of the city. Just a section of townhouses. But he might have been going to one of them. She hurried ahead, and halfway through running, poofed into a cloud of blue smoke. When it faded, she was gone.

The man hadn’t even noticed her disappearing. He hadn’t even noticed her following. All that was important were the missing pieces. And he was getting closer.

White noise flickered around his grinning face.

— — — — — — —

The silence after the explanation was deafening. Delyth didn’t say anything as she processed what had just happened. Chase had done most of the explaining, though naturally, there were parts he didn’t know and the others had to fill in. Malcolm had left halfway through, muttering something about stupid crazy magic shit. Jackie had stayed, but he’d stayed silent the whole time, and after a while closed his eyes. Nobody thought he was sleeping.

“This is...frankly unbelievable,” Delyth finally said.

“Don’t worry, we know,” Jack muttered.

“It’s just—” She couldn’t even come up with words to describe it. “The four of you—well, the five of you—you knew Marvin Moore?”

None of them had expected her to grab onto that, out of the whole series of events. “Well, Jameson didn’t,” Jack said. JJ shook his head, but said nothing, aware it wouldn’t be picked up on the recorder. “But yeah, we all did.”

“You know me,” Jackie said, giggling. His eyes stayed firmly closed. “You know me̶.”

The others stared at him for a moment. After a while, when it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Schneep cleared his throat. “Why is that significant?” he asked.

“Marvin Moore was one of only two soul magicians in this city,” Delyth said. “Both of them, coincidentally, had a history of subverting ABIM regulations.”

Chase blinked. “I...never knew Marvin was part of this magical organization. Or, uh, going around it, whatever. Though to be fair, we didn’t think Marvin’s magic was actually magic until all this crazy shit started happening.”

“If what you say is true...” Delyth said slowly. “About this...together...fusion...thing...” She couldn’t help but give Jackie another wary glance. “Then this thing would probably have soul magic as well, thus accounting for the high amounts of trace soul magic in the city. Sounds like it was...active. Until recently.”

“Well, these string things might be...whatever’s left of him.” Jack shook the water bottle, hearing the faint sound of the strings inside. “And they’re very active.”

Delyth shook her head, visibly stunned. “Nothing like this has ever—ever—happened before. Not in all our records, and they go back quite a while. Influencing electricity, this intense hypnotism—opening the Nightmare, for god’s sake. ‘Black magic’ doesn’t even cover what this thing is. It’s—it is a magical abomination.”

Jackie’s eyes suddenly flew open. They seemed to flash red, and he growled, glaring at Delyth. She tensed, her eyes glowing a slight purple in return.

The tension was broken by the doorbell ringing. Malcolm, who’d been listening quietly, made a cry of frustration. “I swear, if it’s anyone else involved in this fucking stuff...” He muttered under his breath as he went to get the door.

“But even if you’ve never heard of something like this before, you can still...like, fix it, right?” Chase asked hopefully.

Delyth frowned. “That isn’t my area of expertise. I know some things about soul magic, but I haven’t studied it, exactly. We’d need to call in people who know more about experimental magic than I do, just to even figure out what we could do.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “So how do we do—”

“Hey!” Malcolm shouted.

Everyone looked towards the sound, just in time to see a young woman with purple and blue hair run into the room. “Mae! It is you!” she said, visibly relieved.

Malcolm ran into the room after her. “I’m sorry, she just pushed right past me, do any of you know her?”

Delyth blinked. She quickly turned off the tape recorder and stood up, shoving it in her pocket. “Yvonne Bell. What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story, but basically—” Yvonne looked like she was starting with a conversation, but then she glanced around the room and stopped. She stared, wide-eyed, at the group. “Wait, who are you?” 

“Bell, please,” Delyth said, exasperated. “You are on thin ice already—”

“Ohhhh no, wait, I get it now,” Yvonne covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re friends of his, right? Marvin.”

“Oh my god, how the fuck does everyone know Marvin?!” Schneep threw his hands in the air.

Are you a magician too? JJ asked.

“You—also—magician,” Yvonne said out loud, watching JJ’s hands move. “I’m assuming that’s what that is, I’m a bit rusty. Yes, I am.”

“Yvonne Bell is the second soul magician in the city,” Delyth explained. “It’s only natural that the two of them knew of each other.”

“Well, uh...yeah, you can say that,” Yvonne said, her voice slowly rising in pitch. “Hey, so uh, Mae, I ducked in here cause I thought it was a bit weird, sensing you in this area, I thought you might be able to help, but I think I ended up finding something more important. You are friends of Marv, right? I think I recognize you. Definitely recognize him.” She pointed at Jackie, who was now looking around as if searching for the source of a strange noise. 

“Yeah, we knew him—know him,” Jack said. “Uh...why?”

Yvonne laughed, a bit hysterically. “Well so long story short I ran into him and he’s pretty off his rocker! And also he was heading in this direction last I saw so I tried to find where he was going and that might end up being here.”

Silence fell instantly. It stayed for a few seconds, and then Malcolm immediately turned around and left, muttering something under his breath. Everyone in the living room heard the sound of the stairs creaking. “You know honestly I don’t blame him for that,” Chase sighed. “Uh...Yvonne, is it? What do you mean he’s off his rocker?”

“H-he showed up at my shop last night,” Yvonne started. “And he—well, he was bleeding from this wound on his neck, and at first I thought he was acting weird ‘cause of the blood loss, but it wasn’t that big. He didn’t know where he was or who I was or who he was, kept switching from I to we, saying stuff about puppets, it was all really weird. Then there were these green strings—” Everyone stiffened. “—that showed up, and he, like, it was creepy how he acted with them, and some of them reached him and—and he was all hostile, and he headed out, and it was like he was looking for something, but that must be you, right?”

Another few moments of silence. “Jesus,” Chase muttered, and stood up, managing to push Jackie away only because he seemed more concerned with...something. “You’re not joking, right?”

“Why the shit would I joke about that?!” Yvonne yelled. “It was freaky as fuck!”

“So when you say ‘green strings,’” Jack said, “do you mean this collection of green, slightly glowing, pieces of thread that crawled across the ground like creepy worms?”

Yvonne blinked. “Yeah, why?”

Jack held up the water bottle and tapped the side. “They showed up here, too. We caught them, but...Jackie reacted weirdly to them.”

“Clearly, these strings are somehow connected to the both of them,” Delyth said.

“Well no shit!” Schneep snapped. “Anti was held together by string, it is probably what is left of him!”

“Okay, look, we can discuss it later,” Yvonne said. “Right now we have to—”

Jameson happened to glance towards the window at just the right time. He stiffened, and threw out a shield. The window burst, glass flying inward. Most of it bounced off Jameson’s shield, which managed to cover Chase, Jack, and Jackie, all sitting close together. Schneep yelped, but was mostly blocked from the shards by Yvonne, who threw up her arms to try to protect herself. Delyth reacted as soon as she heard the sound, conjuring a personal shield of her own out of crystalline purple magic.

Strands of blue light started to crawl inside the broken window. Jackie suddenly snapped to attention and shot to his feet. Chase grabbed him, sure that this couldn’t be a good thing.

The blue light—blue strings—wrapped around Jameson’s shield, twisting along the edges. Jameson took a step back, the magic flickering. Without warning, the strings shot towards him, wrapping around his torso and pinning his arms to his side. The shield died.

“What is this?!” Delyth asked, scrambling to her feet.

“Watch out!” Yvonne shouted.

Something jumped through the broken window, moving too fast to be anything but a blur. Jack was suddenly knocked to the ground, dropping the water bottle, which rolled across the floor. He gasped, partly because the breath was knocked out of him, partly because of the sight before him. It was recognizably Marvin, but...at the same time, too strange. He was wearing a mask that looked rather like his old cat-shaped one...if it was blue instead of white and snapped in half. Behind that mask, his eyes flickered between blue and green, teeth clenched in a snarl. Green stitches crossed a line across his throat.

Jackie shouted something, and pushed Chase away. He only took two steps forward before Chase tackled him to the floor. “Marvin!” Yvonne shouted, and ran over to pull him off Jack. Delyth quickly joined her. While they were doing that, Schneep was by Jameson’s side. Trying to pull at the magic strings proved unsuccessful, so he took out his scissors and cut, managing to slice right through them, though he got very close to Jameson’s skin a couple times.

There was a burst of light, and Yvonne and Delyth got thrown back, covered in blue strings that stuck to the walls. Schneep spun around. “What is happening?!”

Jack sat up, Marvin suddenly gone. He looked around for where he went, and caught sight of him just as he grabbed the water bottle with the strings inside. “Don’t let him grab the bottle!” Jack shouted, lunging forward and landing on Marvin’s back. He managed to startle him enough to make him let go, but as the bottle rolled away, Marvin hissed, and reached for it. Jack grabbed his arm. “Chase, help?!”

“Sorry bro, bit busy!” Chase was dealing with a struggling Jackie, who kept trying to get closer to Marvin and the bottle.

Jameson shook off the last of the magic strings, and flung a disc of magic forward. It rolled across the floor and hit the bottle, knocking it across the room. Marvin and Jackie shouted in identical unison.

Schneep finished cutting Delyth and Yvonne out of the magic strings, and Delyth yelled something in a strange language. The ground quaked, and a purple spike shot out of the ground directly under the water bottle, sending it flying into the air, in a perfect arc right into Delyth’s hands. She wiggled it, as if taunting Marvin and Jackie, then threw it out the window.

Marvin screamed, and disappeared in a flurry of white noise. Jackie’s eyes flashed red, and Chase was thrown backward, staggering, bleeding from a cut that went straight from his shoulder to his navel. Not even looking back, Jackie ran forward and jumped out the window.

“Come on, outside!” Delyth said to the room. “There’ll be more room to maneuver!”

It took a few moments for everyone to get their bearings, but they knew time was of the essence so they hurried. As a group, they all ran out the front door onto the street.

Marvin had picked up the water bottle, and was struggling with the duct tape holding the lid closed. Jackie was standing a few feet in front of him, eyes fixed on his face. After a moment, Marvin seemed to notice, and looked up as well. The two of them were frozen.

Just long enough for Jameson to throw a shield up between them. Jackie stepped back, his surprised expression turning to anger. He cried out, and red light started slicing at the shield. Marvin was smarter, and whirled to look at Jameson. He threw out his hands, and more blue strings shot forward. Chase pushed Jameson out of the way, but got entangled himself. Schneep ran to him, and upon feeling the strings, started cutting at those as well.

“Get the bottle!” Jack shouted, running forward. Marvin turned to him and scowled. More strings burst out of the ground, wrapping around his legs and stopping him in his tracks.

Jameson’s shield flickered and died, and Jackie ran forward, latching onto Marvin’s side. Marvin seemed to relax a bit, his eyes starting to glow a softer green. Jackie’s eyes glowed as well, the exact same color.

“No no no no no.” Yvonne ran forward, stopping right behind Jackie. She pressed her hands to either side of her head. “Dor me sonum,” she whispered, and Jackie’s eyes rolled back in his head. He crumpled to the floor, but then Marvin’s eyes instantly locked on Yvonne. She didn’t even have time to react before she was sent flying backwards, landing heavily on the asphalt of the street, and not moving again.

“Fuck this!” Schneep hissed under his breath, turning towards Marvin. Marvin laughed, static crackling along with the sound, and threw out another wave of strings. But Schneep disappeared. And between one step and the next, he was behind Marvin, grabbing at the bottle he was holding. He managed to wrench it out of his grasp, then stepped backwards and disappeared again.

Delyth turned to Jameson. “Can you keep him busy?” she asked. He looked surprised, but nodded. “Good.” She took a deep breath, and started muttering something.

Jameson stepped forward, throwing a disc of light at Marvin, who seemed stunned at the fact that he was no longer holding the water bottle. He didn’t recover in time to avoid the disc splashing in his face. He gasped, and stumbled back, then immediately glared at Jameson. He raised his hand, and a few more strings curled around his arm and shot outward. Jameson ducked just in time to avoid them, but another few quickly wrapped around his arms, pulling him downward. “Useless f͡a͟͝ke magician,” Marvin hissed. “W̵or͠thle͟s͞ś replacement.”

“Leave him alone!” Chase shouted. In one swift motion, he pulled out his gun and BANG!

Marvin staggered backwards, more surprised than hurt. He glared at Chase and reached upward.

Delyth suddenly threw her hands out in front of her, eyes glowing bright purple. A wave of purple light flew out from her in a circle. Once it reached Marvin, pale lavender crystals started to grow out of the ground around his feet. He looked down, but the crystals accelerated, and soon they were covering him up to his armpits. There was only enough time for him to scream out in frustration before he was completely encased.

“We should hurry to get out of here,” Delyth said, not wasting any time. “That spell only lasts an hour at best. Quick, let’s all get in my car.”

“Your what?” Schneep asked.

“Yeah, what?” Chase repeated.

Delyth pointed to the side of the road. A blue car was parked there. “It should be a tight fit, but I think we can all squeeze in. Bring Bell and that...what was his name? Jackie?”

“Hang on!” Schneep had finished cutting Jack free of the strings, and was now standing up straight and glaring in Delyth’s general direction.

“I just pointed to it,” Delyth said, annoyed.

“I am fucking blind!” Schneep snapped. “Was that not obvious?!”

“...oh.” Delyth had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I suppose that would explain some things I noticed. I just thought that...nevermind. My apologies.”

“It’s okay, I’ll get you there,” Jack said to Schneep.

For his part, Schneep looked frustrated. “The first thing I am doing after everything settles down is getting one of those white canes. That way everyone will know and I can find what is around me without asking people.”

Where are we going? Jameson asked.

“Yeah, where are we going?” Chase repeated. “You’re a magician, are we going to some secret magic place?”

Delyth glanced uneasily at Marvin, still frozen. “I’ll explain on the way there.”

— — — — — — —

The car ride was short, which was lucky, since it was also very cramped. Delyth drove and Chase was in the front seat, which left the other three to fill the backseat. It wouldn’t have been a problem if they didn’t also have to fit in Jackie and Yvonne’s unconscious bodies. So they ended up having those two partly on top of them.

True to her word, Delyth explained while she drove. “Marvin clearly means you harm. We need a place with strong wards to protect you from him. And somewhere to keep those...strings safe. To study them, as well as what happened to your friend Jackie. I know a place that fits all those qualifications, near the center of town.”

After a while, Delyth parked in front of what looked like an old bookstore. The sign had fallen off and the windows were dusty, but through the clouded glass you could see lines of shelves and empty displays. They all piled out of the car, watching Delyth as she ran her hand along the edge of the building’s front door frame. It lit up with purple light, which faded to white before disappearing entirely. And without an explanation, she opened the door and stepped inside. Confused, the others quickly followed, with Chase and Jack carrying Yvonne and Jackie.

The interior wasn’t at all what it looked like it would be from the outside. In fact, it looked more like a hotel lobby than anything, decorated in white and gold colors. “Wait, what?!” Chase blinked in surprise.

We stepped into a TARDIS, JJ said succinctly.

“Fancy,” Jack commented. “Looks like the entrance to a hotel or something.” This last statement was probably for Schneep, clinging to his arm.

“This is an ABIM Sanctuary,” Delyth explained. She walked over to a desk with a computer and started typing something in. “It’s for any Magi agents or employed wizards to stay while in town.”

“I...cannot take the phrase ‘employed wizards’ seriously,” Chase said.

Delyth huffed. “‘Wizard’ just means they study magic. It’s an actual term with a long history—you know what, I can explain later. Or maybe Bell can, when she wakes up. We should probably get one of the healers here to look at her, make sure the damage from that blow wasn’t too severe.”

“What about Jackie?” Jack asked.

“It looked like Bell hit him with a sleep spell,” Delyth said. “He should wake up any minute now.” She backed away from the computer. “There. I’ve checked you all in, as my guests, now I’ll show you to your assigned rooms.” And she headed towards a set of elevator doors in the back of the room.

You said we needed strong wards, JJ asked. Does that mean Marvin can’t find us here? And what about these strings? You said we could study them. Jack translated the signs for Delyth.

“Yes, the wards here are very strong,” Delyth said, pressing the Up button next to the lift. “Tracking spells shouldn’t be able to break through them. And we’ll have to talk to some of the wizards here about the strings, I’m sure they can help. If not, I’ll call in for backup. Now come on.” The elevator doors dinged open.

Surprisingly, there were seven floors to the building, which had been just a single story from the outside. Delyth led them to the third floor and down a series of corridors, all lined with doors, until they reached one labelled 314. “I have two extra rooms, they all have two beds and a sleeper sofa. Bell can stay with me. You five can work out who stays in 312 and 313. Don’t worry, the doors aren’t locked to any of us; I put your names on the registry.”

“Uh...I’m gonna assume that’s some type of magic and say ‘thanks,’” Chase said. “Uh...well, if Jackie’s gonna wake up, I think I should stay with him? I-I don’t know, he might get upset if I don’t.”

“Okay, yes, but Jackie also became...aggressive,” Schneep said. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah...” Chase said, sighing.

I can stay with you, Chase, JJ offered. That way, if Jackie does try to attack, I can protect you.

“Oh.” Chase blinked. “Um...thanks.”

“So it’s you three, then me and Schneep,” Jack summarized. “I guess we’ll take 312 then.”

“Excellent,” Delyth said. “Now can you please hand me Miss Bell so I can take her inside?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Jack handed her off to Delyth in an awkward transition, and Delyth quickly went inside her room. “I guess we should just...check out our rooms, then.”

They all dispersed. Chase was mildly surprised when the door to room 313 opened without resistance; that didn’t seem very secure, but then again, it could be magic. He flipped on the lights, revealing what looked like a hotel suite, with a living room and kitchenette in view, two open doors showing the bathroom and bedroom. There were a pair of thick curtains on the opposite wall, no doubt hiding a window. Like the lobby downstairs, the room was mostly decorated in white with hints of gold. Chase walked over to the sofa and set Jackie down, breathing out slowly. He turned back to JJ, who was looking through the kitchenette’s cabinets. “I, uh...don’t know if they have food, bro.”

Well, it can’t hurt to look, JJ said.

“Haha, yeah...” Chase trailed off. He shifted awkwardly. “Hey can I uh...talk to you about something?”

Jameson stopped his investigation, and looked over at Chase curiously. He nodded.

“So, uh...about that...comment I made,” Chase said. “It was, like, a couple days ago. About you not having friends before we met you. I, uh, know I sorta apologized but it was really awkward, and...just, are you still mad about that? You probably are.”

It did sting, to say the least, JJ said. His expression was hard to read, but that might have been because he still had the scarf covering the lower half of his face.

Chase winced. “Yeah...look, I really didn’t mean it. I said it in the heat of the moment, I was frustrated about...just stuff, I guess. It was horrible and I’m really sorry, I...”

Chase, it’s okay, I’ve forgiven you, JJ interrupted.

“R-really?” Chase breathed.

Like you said, it was in the heat of the moment, JJ said. You were upset about the possibility of never seeing Jackie or Marvin again. And, well...you’re not technically wrong. I wasn’t too good at getting to know people. I’m still not, really.

“Yeah, but that didn’t mean I had to say it,” Chase said. “Really, I’m so, so sorry, a-and I really appreciate that you’re staying with me to protect me even though I said it—”

Of course I am, we’re still friends, right? JJ asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

One fight isn’t going to change that. JJ’s eyes crinkled like he was smiling under the scarf.

Chase chuckled. “Well, yeah. I’ve fought all the time with Schneep and Jack, and we still hang out.” He sighed. “It was still just...a bad thing to say.”

It’s water under the bridge, JJ assured him. 

After a moment, Chase reached forward and grabbed JJ’s hand, squeezing it. “Thanks.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric, and a groan. Chase and Jameson looked around, and saw Jackie sitting up. He seemed confused as he glanced around. The confusion soon gave way to some sort of frantic panicking. “Where am I? Where am I?!”

“Whoa, hey, Jackie, it’s fine.” Chase ran on over. “You’re in a safe place, okay? It’s fine.”

“But where am I?!” Jackie insisted, scrambling to his feet. “Where is the rest of me?! We were here, all of me, and now not anymore. Where is the other me?!”

Chase felt his heart sinking. “It’s fine,” he repeated. “We’ll...figure it out.”

Jackie’s eyes locked onto him. “Chase! Do you know where I am?”

“Uh...no, but we’ll figure it out.” He didn’t have much else to say.

“Figure it out, out, out,” Jackie muttered. He started walking around the perimeter of the room. Aimlessly, automatically, like he was just looking for something to do. “We’ll find me, we’ll find me.”

“Um...yeah.” Chase glanced at JJ, who gave him an uneasy look in return. “For now, let’s just...relax. It’s been a long day, and it’s only noon.”

Sounds good, JJ said, and turned back to the cabinets, looking through them again.

Chase collapsed on the sofa, and watched as Jackie continued to walk, walk, walk. Hopefully these magic people could figure out what to do about him And those strings. True, Delyth had said that nothing like this had ever happened before, but he believed there was a solution. One that would save everyone. And he did mean everyone.

He had to keep believing that. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he stopped believing.

[writerofblocks]

Self Indulgent Wednesday Morning

so @chyrstis tagged me in this challenge but I forgot about posting it until today. So here’s Self Indulgent Sunday- belated edition!

Post a passage, a piece of art, an edit, a gif, anything you’ve made within the last week that you’re proud of and feel like sharing!

I’m gonna tag @vicekings, @gatmora, @sparrowhaven, @chyrstis, @eulerami, aaaaaand anyone else that would like to say “look at my shit, this is good shit”.

I know I need to redo Julius a bit, but me actually managing to put the dialogue in context of the story is a victory so I’m sharing it all.

===

“So what’s the state of the Row?”

There were many responses Troy could have given to that- all of them true, none of them what Julius wanted to hear. He could point out that the Row was Stilwater’s last unclaimed territory, and all three gangs currently plaguing the city were vying for control of it. It changed hands daily, and nobody could be sure who was in control of which parts at any given time. To put it artfully, Saints Row was the epicenter of a city disrupting event. To put it in his own words, Saints Row was a rubble-filled crater waiting to happen. 

And here they were- here he was- with their hands on the detonator, itching to blow this stalemate. Or at the very least, attempting to.

He could also point out that there wasn’t really much they could know about the Row at the moment. One neighborhood does not a gang make, and one neighborhood was all the Saints had locked down. Not for the first time, he wondered why Monroe felt the need to have a plant. The “Third Street Saints” were only- what, like two dozen guys? Hardly a bark, and even less of a bite. How was he supposed to get information on the other gangs when the extent of his connections could be reached via a telephone tree?

Whatever. He was here to do his job and get whatever info he could. No use pissing all his work down the drain for the sake of two seconds of sass- no matter how cathartic it might be.

September hung suspended around them as they walked through the night. The air sucked at his lungs, hot and sticky with the leftover humidity of August. It left him itching for something different, but he wasn’t dumb enough to smoke and walk at the same time. He pulled another cigarette from the crumpled pack in his pocket regardless. “Well, Mission Beach is locked down.”

Julius kept pace beside him, his steps measured. Despite the purple turtleneck and dark coat, he didn’t seem to notice the heat. “Considering where the church is, I’d be worried if it wasn’t.”

“Look, you asked for the state of the Row, I’m gonna give you the state of the Row, ‘aight?” Troy gestured irritably with the cigarette, before placing it between his lips. “Anyway. Word is there’s Carnales operating out of an old liquor store in Athos Bay.”

This bit of news Julius gave more consideration. He tilted his head, a brief furrow crossing his brow. “That’s close by. Have someone check it out, see if there’s any truth to the rumors.”

“Right… other than that, seems the Rollerz have made a move into Harrowgate. Fresh tags’ve been goin’ up, not to mention all the shootouts between the Rollerz and VKs.”

Julius bit back a swear between his teeth. His fingers drifted to the chains around his neck, fiddling with the crucifixes at the end of them as he thought. “If we want to hold onto those neighborhoods for more than a few days, we’re gonna need more members.”

Sweat glued the collar of Troy’s polo to the back of his neck; he tugged at it with a quick, aggravated motion to release the grip. “We aren’t gonna get more people as it stands, Julius,” he replied, frowning. “We’ve gathered all the people willing to step up from Mission Beach.”

[girlgrouptrash101]

Dating Poly!ChaeLisa

Requested: “Can you write a poly dating Chaelisa? Your Chaesoo one was so good”

A/N: thank you to my #1 gal for helping on this post 🦆

- C

Get ready to be loved to no end!!! because these girlies have the biggest hearts and they just want to give you and each other their everything because that is what y’all deserve!!!

You really cherish every single moment that you get to spend with Chae and Lisa, because you know that when you said goodbye, you might not see them for weeks on end, months even.

the distance can get hard sometimes, but it’s always worth it when they finally come back home and into your arms, you love them too much to ever let them go

but when they are by your side!!! You three have so so so much fun together, there are rarely any moments when you aren’t laughing or smiling together

they invite you to all the concerts you’re able to go to, and you can’t help but laugh as the girls blow kisses and wink at you and the whole crowd around you go feRAL

you can’t blame them though dude, your girlfriends are hot tf

though Chaeyoung and Lisa love when you come to their shows, they much prefer spending time with you at home where they can be their genuine selves, no cameras or having to look perfect in front of thousands of people

you’ve learned a lot about how tough the idol life can be from watching your girls work so hard, so you always make sure you’re there to support them every step of the way

like bringing food for all four of the girls when they’ve been practising all day and staying there to be their moral support so they can power through the long dance sessions

+ always being there to watch and listen when Rosé and Lisa want to show you how they’ve improved or having dinner ready for them after a long day etc.

Taking them out to eat is so fun because they get so excited over every fancy dish and seeing them eat well just makes you so happy because they really do deserve the world im soft

plus it’s so cute when Rosie’s cheeks puff up like a hamster when she’s eating

or when she tries something she really likes and her arms do the little flap thing she does when she gets super excited

plus Lisa taking so many photos of you both, she always has her camera at the ready to snap the cutest and most aesthetic pictures of you and Chaeyoung, what a photography queen

Begging Rosé to take out her guitar and play for you omg bls

it’s so soft when you and Lisa just get to sit back and listen to Chaeyoung, who has the voice of an angel, as she sings to you both

she always sings love songs for you too, because Chae baby is super duper soft and takes every opportunity to remind you and Lisa how much she loves you both so much

sharing clothes for a real one like who even owns what anymore? nobody knows

Rosé being the queen of sweater paws and you and Lisa just gushing over her as she gets all smiley and blushy at the attention from you both

CUDDLES. PERIOD.

Lisa usually likes being in the middle of your cuddles, because she gets to hold you both close to her, and kiss you both as much as she wants

also, the person who sits in the middle always gets to hold the snacks so,, Miss Lisa has her priorities in order, obviously

Clothes shopping together!!!

You guys hype each other up so much it’s adorable and it fills you with so much confidence

you guys either go to the most expensive clothes shops, usually, Lisa takes you to those shops where you take one look at the price tag and feel your heart drop to your stomach jhdkfkg

or else you go to the cutest thrift shops where you help Rosie and Lisa pick out the cutest stuff,, feeling especially proud when you pick up those bargains am I right ladies

fashion shows in the middle of the shops??? I think soooo

while the other two of you pretend to be paparazzi and go in stupid positions to pretend to take photos and y’all end up laughing so hard until your sides hurt 

Rosé is just a little baby okay so what if she just wants to eat cupcakes and plait yours and Lisa’s hair what abOUT IT

It never gets old when you’re in the car and you hear Blackpink on the radio,, you still get filled with so much pride for your girls

your groupchat is like an overload of emojis please relax all of you you don't need that many honestly

when you go to sleep you and Rosé always get into bed first and Lisa just yeEts on top of you both and you can’t help but scream and giggle as you all try and escape the wrath of Lisa

which eventually turns into a pillow/tickle fight, and you all fall off the bed

speaking of Lisa, she’s so good at flustering the both of you to no end

from stolen kisses, to pulling you down onto her lap, greasy compliments, just everything to get you and Rosie to blush

or when she smushes your face together and baby talks the shit out of you for no reason,,, and you’re like thaTs grOsS but she’s actually really cute and it lowkey made you blush

whenever you turn on music at your house it turns into a full live performance with singing, dancing, and the girls being your backup dancers and hyping you up as you screech along to some song on your playlist

for some reason, you all just like to grab loads of blankets and make a little fort on the carpet in your living room and just cuddle up there all night long

that’s the time where a lot of DMC’s and venting about your guys’ worries happens because you guys trust one another wholly

and you know that if you share your worries with them, they’ll know just how to comfort you and it’ll be a huge weight off your shoulders

to be honest, all three of you are WHIPPED whipped period

and that’s just how it’s always gonna be uwu

NSFW From Here:

the duality sis the DUALITY

they’re either waiting for you to come home so they can literally take you all night long

or else they’re big babies whos just want to be pleasured for hours,,, there really is no in between

Rosé being an innocent little shit in public while she teases both you and Lisa while no one is looking

having to contain yourself and behave when you see them backstage after shows, when they're all hot and sweaty and still on a high after their show

but it's all worth it when one of them comes over and whispers in your ear, promising that you'll get what you want as soon as you get home

they both really love to put on a show and drive you crazy especially when they know you can't do anything about it

like having some fun with each other on tour and sending you all the videos

they know just how to make you weak in the knees, they have you wrapped around their little fingers

definitely have a sex playlist without a doubt

whenever you go and get cleaned up in the shower afterwards one of you always ends up starting something and you really just go for another round then and there smh

Rosé just wants you to appreciate the fuck out of her thighs and ride her face okay don’t deny her that

Lisa’s fingers>>>>> tell me i’m wrong i dare you

these girls are so loud, they don’t give a shit who hears it once they’re gone enough

except for when they wake up the next morning at their dorm and Jennie and Jisoo tease the shit out of you all

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Five

Table of Content or Part Forty-Four

Read HERE on Wattpad

Words: 3.1K

Warning(s): Explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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Five days detoxing at Doc's house+rehab+therapy=road to recovery=out of the woods. It's the magical equation I swore up and down wouldn't end in "Error."

The few dishes on the counter shatter into the floor once Nikki roughly sits me on it, his fingers digging into my thighs that wrap securely around him, our tongues twisting as we tug and pull at each other's clothes.

I get his pants undone as he pulls the towel from around my body, taking a handful of my soaking wet hair in his hand and tugging my head back to leave bites and bruises up and down my neck, causing me to hum in pleasure while my core pulses with anticipation to be filled by him.

Moving myself to the edge of the counter, spreading my legs as he runs his fist up and down his length a few times, I take heavy breaths, a wash of shame coming over me for a moment because this is the complete opposite of what we were instructed to do. 

But fuck the "no contact" rule. 

I've barely had any contact with him the past few months because he's been stoned or drunk. Telling me to practically ignore and avoid him for 30 days straight is like waving a loaded syringe in an addict's face before sitting it down in front of them and leaving them alone after telling them "okay I know it's right there and it's the one thing you struggle most to control yourself around, but don't even look at it."

Fuck that, and Nikki. And I refuse to walk around my own house anymore and not do the latter of those two.

The indescribable feeling of him pushing into me has my head tipping back , and my eyes closing as the both of us let out content sighs. 

I put my weight on one of my hands that rests on the counter beside me, the other hand wrapped around the back of Nikki's neck, as he moves in and out of me ferociously and I meet him thrust for thrust.

Let's take a step back and catch up on how he and I had gotten to that point.

Eight Days Earlier

"You two can detox at my place, check into rehab, come out when you're better and we'll go from there." Doc explains to Nikki and Tansy as they both sit on our couch.

"W-What about the press? Or my mom?" Tansy asks him nervously, fumbling with the tag on the throw blanket she's enveloped in.

"You let me deal with your mom and the media, alright?" Doc assures her. 

"Surely your mom won't be pissed at you for getting help, Tans." I try to tell her and she rubs her lips together.

"People will know I have a problem if I got to rehab." She points out. "It'll make me look bad."

"Having to cover your entire body with makeup to hide the discoloration of your skin and the track marks, looks bad, Tansy. Screw what people think. At least you're admitting you need help." I say and she doesn't reply, just looking at Nikki to gauge his reaction to all of this.

He looks pissed, but too tired and defeated to give a shit enough to argue with me anymore about it.

"What's the point of rehab if I'm just gonna end up kicking it at Doc's place?" Nikki asks me and I let out a breath.

"Because rehab will teach you coping mechanisms that Doc can't, Nikki. It won't take that long for you to get out if you just try your best at it." I reply and he scoffs. 

"So, what, you're babysitting me at Doc's until I'm done throwing up, shitting myself, and having hot and cold flashes and then shipping me off for a few weeks?" He cuts his dead eyes at me and Doc and I exchange looks.

"Well, it depends on how quickly you adjust to rehab and make a turn around, as to how soon you can get out...so it might be more than a few weeks." Doc informs him. "And Bob has already scheduled you and Viv an appointment with a marriage therapist."

"Well if I'm spending more than three weeks in rehab there's no point in working on our marriage." 

"The program you'll be in includes this particular therapist who's currently working on creating a schedule for Vivian to come visit you often and you two have your sessions bi-weekly." Doc states and Nikki rolls his jaw, looking at me.

"Is this what you really want? Your husband gone for weeks on end until some quack gives me a certificate and a gold star because I went 'X' amount of time without shooting up?" He harshly questions me and I rub my lips together.

I think of the reasons Nikki didn't spend more than three days in rehab the first time he went, was because A.) He refused to believe in a higher power, and B.) He didn't go to rehab because he knew he had a problem and wanted to get better, he went to rehab to appease the people around him because he felt we were twisting his arm until he gave up and cried "mercy" a.k.a "fine I'll go, just as long as you shut the fuck up and get off my back about it."

I look at him for a moment, studying his knotted hair, his yellow skin, his shot eyes, his weak appearance, before saying:

"I'd rather you hate me for a little while for getting you help, instead of waking up and trying to convince myself to continue to live in a world with no Nikki Sixx in it."

"We're not indestructible, Nikki." Tansy adds softly, knowing very well she and he both need help.

He doesn't say anything else.

She had Doc and I convinced she wanted help...but truth be told Nikki actually went to rehab while Tansy had Duff come get her from Doc's house.

She knew she had a severe problem, but the only time Tansy would "clean up" was when she gave her veins a break, out of fear of completely losing them, and was muscling smack. She would fall back on pills and lots of booze, then when some of her veins would start reviving themselves back from their smaller size, she would start up again.

I can't even say how much money she and her mother were paying people to keep quiet to the media. 

Nobody could know perfect Tansy Lyn, Playboy's Barbie Doll, was so broken inside that she repeatedly destroyed her body, let it rebuild, and wrecked it again. 

It must have been a punch in the face to her mom when Tansy came clean in '88 and admitted she had struggled with addiction and was going into rehab...and an even harder punch in the face when she came back in into the spotlight in 1989, dropping her stage name "Tansy Lyn" and dawning "Tansalyn Rose" after marrying Axl, and practically confessed every grimy detail of her obsession with hard drugs and alcohol since 1981, and why she started them to cope with what was happening behind the scenes of the brutal modeling industry. 

In 1990, her vision-come-to-life, "I Won't Just Smile", was born. It started as a campaign to raise awareness against sexual abuse, exploitation, and coercion in all corners of the modelling industry, then stemmed into an organization that offered free services to victims of addiction and abuse, from rehab to post-assault counseling and everything in between.

Years of Diane's hard work to create her daughter's untouchable persona, completely shattered.

I was just thrilled Tansy had turned her struggles around and used them to help others, but first, she would have to face a handful of overdoses, one of which nearly killed her, have a section of her liver cut out, and have a temporary pace-maker.

All of it just made Axl more strict about drugs. Not just for the sake of the band and the fans, but he was afraid some members of Guns in particular would pull Tansy back into the merry-go-round of addiction after she got clean.

"You're telling me I can't stay with him and Tansy?" I ask Doc harshly in a whisper once the four of us get to his house.

"You won't want to stay, Viv. I'm telling you, they're gonna pull out all the stops to get you to cave and get them some smack because they'll be in so much pain. I don't want you to see them like that and I don't want you to compromise their recovery." He explains.

"You think I would do that?!"

"I know you would if it came down to it." He states and I roll my jaw. "This isn't just little flu symptoms and some body aches. They will feel like they are going to die, they will look like they are going to die and I cannot trust you not to give in." His brutal honesty. "You'll be able to see them in about a week, they'll be better by then and then we can look at the next step. Got it?"

I just glare at him.

"Go kiss 'em 'bye' and fuck off." He says next, waving his hand at me dismissively as he goes to my car to grab Nikki's bag and his car to grab Tansy's.

I step back into the living room to tell them 'bye' but stop myself, deciding it's better to let Doc deal with Nikki's pissed off temper when he discovers I won't be staying with them.

Grabbing my car keys from the table by the door, I head the house.

When I get back to our house, I check the machine that's blinking a light to signal a missed call.

I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water as Slash's voice slurs through the speaker.

"H-Hey, Viv, um...uh...we..." I chuckle at his incoherent mumbling and step to the phone to call him back as another message starts playing where his left off.

"Viv," It's Duff. "Call us back as soon as you can."

I furrow my brows a little, about to dial them back until yet another message comes on.

"Viv, we got signed!" Steven's screaming has me dropping my water and the phone, joy coursing through the soles of my feet up to my hair, and I'm running around and screaming along with his recorded message loudly blaring his own excitement.

I run back to the phone and pick it up, dialing their apartment.

"We got signed!" Steven's voice is shouting at me before the phone even rings a single ring.

"When?! How?! By who?!" I say back.

"We'll tell you over dinner because guess who got $7,500 cash advances?! The same mother fuckers who've been stealing from strippers to get by, that's who!" He exclaims.

"Yeah, don't ever tell people you guys did that!" I say in the same tone. "Lemme change and I'll be over there, okay?"

"Okay." He replies, and I can just hear his smile through the phone.

I hang up and give one last scream of happiness before sprinting to get changed and leave.

Tom Zutaut, the same man responsible for giving Mötley Crüe their shot, had given the same shot to Guns N' Roses.

They had signed to Geffen Records, and although that was their second goal--the first was getting a band together--they knew the main goal was to release their first album, and hopefully, have it a success.

Before I can even knock on the door, it's swinging open and Steven's like a puppy, jumping around, waiting on me by the door.

I hug him tightly, trying to keep myself from crying with immense relief that they're one step closer--a giant step closer--to their dream.

When we pull away from each other, Duff holds his hand up for me to give him a high-five and I do, his fingers locking with my hand to pull me into a hug and I'm sandwiched between him and Steven momentarily.

A flash catches my eye and we pull away from each other to see a girl with short, blonde hair, that I've never seen before, holding a camera.

"That's gonna be a good one." She tells us, smiling at Duff as the Polaroid deposits.

Mandy Brixx, member of the punk band, Lotus Lame and The Lame Flames, was a cute girl with bleach blonde hair, beautiful brown eyes and a captivating smile...and was also Duff's first wife.

Mandy wasn't perfect, but she didn't disown Duff after he told her he had gotten me pregnant.

Even though he didn't cheat on her with me, and they had been broken up for about six months when he and I got involved, I know it hurt her knowing he had hooked up with the woman she was sure she didn't have to worry about when they dated. They ended up getting back together in 1988 and got married the same year.

They divorced two years later because something just "changed" and neither of them were happy, but I've always respected her because she was really good to Monroe.

His second wife, however, was crazier than a run over dog because she was always on something.

The last time I saw her in 1993, she had said something crass and rude to Tansy and before Tansy could reply, I was asking Linda, "were you born a cunt or does the crack just bring it out of you?"

She swung on me and I swung back. Except when I throw a punch, I make sure it lands.

Maybe she would've actually hit me if her equilibrium weren't as fried as her brain.

I would've kicked her ass if Duff and Matt Sorum hadn't pulled me off of her.

I hope she got her shit together after they divorced in 1995.

I guess bass players and crack-head models go hand-in-hand...

"Viv, this is my girlfriend, Mandy." Duff introduces me. "Mandy, this is my best friend, Viv."

"Hi, it's good to finally meet you." Mandy tells me with a gentle smile and I extend my hand to her.

"You, too." I reply as she takes my hand in her's, my eyes subtly flickering to Duff now that he's standing beside her, silently asking him when the hell he was going to tell me about his girlfriend.

"I'll tell you later." He mouths to me where she can't see and I just keep smiling as she strikes up conversation with me.

Once we get to the Rainbow, Steven and I are a few steps in front of Duff and Mandy, the blonde drummer letting out a little sigh.

"What is it?" I ask, nudging him.

"Just worried about Tansy." He admits, and I raise my brows. "It's not like that, Viv, I swear." He promises. "She's a cool person, is all. I wish she was here to celebrate this with us."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear about it when you're allowed to go visit her in rehab." I remind him. "Where's the guys?" I ask next as we step into the Rainbow.

"Slash is hanging out with this chick he met a couple weeks ago, Izzy's with his girl friend and I don't know where Axl is." He tells me and I nod. "So it's just a double date for us tonight." He grins widely, winking at me slickly.

After hours of just goofing off, talking, eating and demonstrating our celebration of Guns' stepping stone, Mandy's calling it a night.

"I'll call you later, Duff." She says to him as she grabs her jacket and he stands up to let her scoot out of the booth.

"Sounds good, babe." He replies, kissing her cheek.

"It was really nice to meet you." She tells me.

"It was nice to meet you, too." I reply.

"Bye." She smiles one last time at Duff, waving to Steven before leaving.

"When did you me--"

"Viv, lemme out." Steven interrupts me and I furrow my brows.

"What?"

"Lemme out, there's a hot girl at the bar and she just waved me over. I wanna get laid. Lemme out." He pleads and I roll my eyes and scoot out so he can stand up.

He does so, heading straight to the bar to try his luck with a beautiful brunette.

And then there were two.

"You were saying?" Duff chuckles out when Steven's gone and I smile a little.

"When did you and Mandy meet?" I ask him and he lets out a breath of cigarette smoke.

"Uh, a month ago, maybe? She gave me her number and I went back and forth with myself until I convinced myself to call her." He explains. "We spent the weekend together so I guess we get along pretty good. She's a great girl."

"She seems nice." I tell him, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Yeah, she is." He agrees, taking another drag of his cigarette.

I take a sip of my water and sit in the silence that falls over us before noticing he's staring at me.

"What?" I ask him.

"You wanna go somewhere with me?" He offers, putting his cigarette out.

"Where?"

"C'mon." He stands up, nodding to the door.

"But Steven--"

"--Is about to go mess around with that girl in the bathroom. He's not gonna be mad if we leave him." He adds. "C'mon, you'll like where we go."

"If you say so." I shrug.

He pays the bill and the two of us head back to their apartment so he can get his car.

I know I should have been at home by the phone, waiting for a call from Doc or Nikki or Tansy, but it was pointless to sit at home and worry when I couldn't do anything about it anyway.

When we get to where we're going, Duff is parking his car in the lot of an abandoned building, and I glance around to see there's not much traffic around us.

"Is this the part where you murder me?" I ask him and he busts out in laughter, shaking his head.

"This is where Mandy and her band rehearses." He explains.

"Why're we here?"

"I picked her up here the other day and noticed something you might like." He gets out the car and opens his trunk, pulling out a shopping bag.

"Duff..." I say, uneasy as we approach the rusted door.

"Shh, I got it." He digs in his jacket pocket and plucks out a worn key, unlocking the dead bolt and the door knob.

I follow him inside, and he switches on a light switch, only one light beam in the ceiling comes on, and in the large, dim room, I see a large mirrored wall, sleek but worn out wood floors, and I turn to see Duff holding out a brand new pair of pointe shoes to me.

I wasn't going to tell him I'd gone so long without dancing that I'd have to work my way back up to dancing on pointe, because he'd spent money for the shoes and they looked to be around my size and I didn't want to know how observant he had to be to estimate my shoe size in terms of ballet...so I did something I was really good at doing at that time in my life.

I kept myself from crying.

I knew Duff was going to be a constant encourager in my life when he held those shoes out to me and so easily, so confidently, said:

"You've supported and helped me get into my groove of things to start accomplishing my dream. Now, I'm helping you get back into your's."

[buckyreaderrecs]

A Toast to Whiskey: Chapter 1 / 2

Summary: You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It's almost charming, but not quite. That's probably why Bucky likes it.

Words: 2,325 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with part 2, brief mention of Nazis, mental health will be prominent part of part 2

Note: Find this fic and others on A03 - click here. And follow this Tumblr! I post lists of Bucky/Reader fic writers and reblog all my favs. I’ve just started it, so would love the support! xo Rhi

Dedicated to: @browngirlmagic for the conversation. The next chapter is the Lush one!

A Toast to Whiskey Chapter 1 / 2

There were a lot of things in the dusty, old bar that made the man's jaw clench in annoyance, distaste, or anger. You were compiling a list of these things, doing your best to minimise their occurrences. There was one you couldn't avoid though, and it was almost amusing that it bothered him at all. Each time someone ordered a drink - beer, cocktail, shot, whatever - a clean glass was given. The man didn't like it. Was it not like that in his time?

If James Buchanan Barnes thought he'd gone unnoticed in the hole-in-the-wall bar you worked at, he was mistaken. Not entirely, to be fair; the baseball cap and quiet stopped the other patrons from even giving him a second glance. 'Patrons' might have been too civilised of a word to call them. They were old, sickly, local men that had been drinking the same beer from those same taps forever. Harmless, mostly. Unobservant, entirely. Not you though. The first day Bucky walked in and taken a barstool on the very corner, closest to the door, you knew exactly who he was.

Like a lot of people that came and went from the establishment, Bucky's seeking of anonymity was granted. You pretended to not recognise him. You were kind to him, a little more gentle than you were to others, but mostly just a good bartender. And in time, you grew accustomed to the charade. He came in a couple of afternoons a week, but never during the nights when it would be busy. Eventually, he even started to speak more than a couple words to you.

"New cap?" you greeted Bucky with a grin, putting the only drink he ever ordered down in front of him.

Bucky wrapped his right hand around the glass of whiskey. He glanced at you, smiled and shrugged.

"Speaking of new, can I ask you something?" you asked.

The expression on Bucky's face was guarded, but definitely one of concern. You realised you should have just asked, rather than let his mind spiral.

"What’s your problem with clean glasses?"

He looked surprised. Surprised was an experience Bucky wasn't particularly used to or fond of. He wouldn't hold it against you though.

"How do ya know I got a problem?" he asked back, genuinely curious.

Shrugging, you looked around casually. "Guess I notice a lot of things about people,"

"Right," he said slowly, knowingly. "I don't know… Just seems wasteful… Is it the law?"

"That we have to use clean glasses?" you asked with a laugh. "I don't know… probably not. I mean, it's more hygienic. Probably makes the drink taste cleaner or whatever. Board of Health might have a problem with us if we didn't… Not that I've seen one of them in here in years."

Bucky picked up his glass and finished the whiskey. "Fill her up," he quipped. He'd made a half-joke, and you appreciated the effort.

"Yes, sir. Lemme know if you, you know, what anything else," you told him, topping him up, knocking your knuckles on the bar top, and walking away.

…

Bucky Barnes certainly wasn't the most chatty person you'd met. It was better to ask questions if you wanted to pass time with conversations. Easy conversation was one of your special skills, being a bartender and all. However, it was incredibly difficult to do this when you were purposefully avoiding topics that would put Bucky in a position to have to, you know, admit his identity and all that. So, things stayed superficial.

No, Bucky didn't watch the game.

Yes, the weather's been insane.

No, he doesn't want any nut mix.

Okay, maybe yes to pretzels.

Yes, he can see your hair has changed colour.

Yes, he likes it.

For as long as it had taken to get to the point of superficial conversation, it didn't take any time at all to run out of things to say. As it turned out, neither you nor Bucky had lived, or were living, shallow enough lives to sustain it. There were questions you were begging to ask, and if he was honest with himself, Bucky was kinda just counting down until you finally spoke up.

…

"So, I got a question,"

"Mmm. You have a lot of questions," Bucky said, smirking then taking another sip of his whisky.

"You could ask me somethin' if you want a change of pace, pal."

It was a joke. Just banter. But a dark expression flashes across Bucky's face for only a split second. You didn't catch it.

"What's your question, Y/N?"

He knew your name?

Of course he knew your name. He was The Winter fucking Soldier. He probably knew everything about everyone that worked and frequented the bar. How had you not thought of that before? Suddenly, it seemed risky to ask what you had planned to.

Bucky watched you hesitate. He sighed and looked around at the empty room. It was a Monday afternoon and it was just before the regulars showed up to knock beer bottles together and catcall you across the bar. It was just you and him.

"Ask," he said softly, taking his cap off and setting it down on the barstool next to him. You watched Bucky run his hands through his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear.

"Why do you drink whiskey?"

Bucky laughed. Like, a proper heartfelt laugh. "What?" he said, nose still scrunched up in amusement.

"What?"

"Why do I drink whiskey?" he repeated.

"Yeah… I mean… It's disgusting… and, like, you… can't get drunk, right?"

There it was. You did it. Admitted you knew him. Which he figured out. So none of what was happening was really a big deal. But it sure as fuck felt like it.

"Right. I can’t- Well, I can, but it takes a lot,"

"Asgardian mead a lot?"

Bucky grinned and tipped his glass towards you. "How do you know about Asgardian mead?"

You snorted. "Everyone does. Everyone knows everything these days,"

"That's what we want you to think," he said, not skipping a beat.

It made you laugh. It was already better talking to him without false pretences. "So, whisky?"

"Ah… Guess it's that everything's different now… An' that's mostly good. But… You know."

No. No, you didn't know. How could you even begin to understand? "Yeah," you said, your voice far more quiet than you meant it to be.

"Whiskey's still whiskey,"

"It tastes the same?" you asked.

"Almost. Not exactly. Close enough,"

"Makes sense… But why here? S'not like this bar been here since the 40s or anything."

Bucky was visibly trying not to smile. Or make eye contact. "Ah… Not sure how to answer that without… offending ya,"

"Huh? ... Oh, I don't own the joint or anything,"

"You don't?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"No? You think I did? Why?"

"You're…" but he shrugged, still guarded. "I don't know," he lied. "But, ah, I was just lookin' for somewhere…"

"Pretty much stuck in the 40s or thereabouts?"

He nodded, smiling. "But without the Nazis,"

"Mmm… I mean… Have you watched the news lately?" you very quickly said.

"I try to avoid it," he admitted solemnly.

As people started to wander in, the conversation waned. Bucky watched you serve cold beer and pour bags of crisps into bowls. He listened to the worst songs being picked on the jukebox and he sat truly shocked you weren't even at least the daughter of the owner. Despite what you may have thought, he hadn't bothered to investigate you at all and finding his assumptions to be wrong was unsettling.

See, Bucky was a little bit smitten with you. He thought you were smart and sassy and timelessly beautiful. You were the ultimate perk of randomly picking this as his hideaway from the world. But, he figured you were only here because it was a family business. Why was someone smart, sassy and beautiful working strange hours at a shitty bar?

It was hard to say which of you was more curious about the other.

…

Something about what Bucky said had stuck in your head. Whiskey, his drink of choice, was the closest thing to his own time he could find. You could do better than that though.

About a year into working at the bar, you were finally allowed to venture into the cellar to clean it up. There were boxes of shit from forever ago down there and you just wanted it sorted, gone, and the space put to better use. Most of what lived beneath the floor was trash, but every hour or so you'd find something cool. A few vintage beer signs. Empty bottles of collector edition Coke. That kind of stuff. But, there was one thing you had found that you now wanted to stumble across again.

Nobody could remember where it had got to.

It took two days of searching to find it.

The bottle of whiskey was shoved under a bunch of paperwork in the office's bottom drawer desk. Not exactly where you'd store something worth a lot of money, but hey - the barely-there owners of the bar were eccentric, to put it nicely. You didn't recognise the brewing company on the peeling label, but that wasn't the point. The date on the bottle quite clearly read 1940.

When Bucky took his usual spot that afternoon, you bounced over to him with a grin on your face. He looked up at you, keeping his cap.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm so happy?" you said, elbows on the bar and head in your hands.

Bucky smiled a little. He seemed sad. Sadder than usual. Good timing.

"Why are you so happy?"

"'Cause I found something that's gonna make you real fuckin' happy. Check this out!"

You produced the bottle from where you had it stashed under the bar and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky's lips parted slightly and his eyes went all glossy. He read the label carefully, probably trying to place the brand you couldn't. He handled it so carefully, even more than you in your fear of dropping it.

"This is real," he finally said.

"Yeah. I found it in the basement ages ago and just remembered it. 1940, so I figure it's like, first or second batch after Prohibition, yeah?"

Bucky nods. "I guess…" he replied, smiling, remembering Prohibition. "And before all the distilleries had to stop again,"

"For what?" you asked.

"The war," he said so matter-of-factly that it hurt a little. He looked up then, saw your confusion. "Dunno if it was law or if they just did it, but most places stopped making drinking alcohol and started making stuff to help win the war. And ah, whiskey stopped being made because it took up too much crops. I don't know. Something like that."

Something like that. Like he hadn't lived history.

"I didn’t know that. That's…" Not 'cool.' "That makes sense… Anyway. Open it," you ordered, getting out two clean glasses.

Bucky put the bottle on the bar and looked at you seriously. "Y/N, that's gotta be worth… a lot… Can't open it for no reason,"

"Nobody here cares about it. And besides, it's not really no reason, is it?" He didn't move or say anything. "Bucky." He flinched at his name, glanced around to make sure nobody heard. They hadn't. "I think you kinda earned this one, yeah? Now do me the honours."

Why was everyone in Bucky's life so goddamn stubborn?

He sighed and opened the bottle silently. You nodded in encouragement, letting him pour.

"A toast," you posed, holding your glass up. Bucky mimicked your action. "A toast to…" Everything in your head sounded either very cliché or very sad.

"Whiskey," Bucky finished.

"Whiskey," you agreed.

Drinking at the same time, Bucky swallowed in two gulps while you struggled with a sip.

"Jesus fucking Christ it tastes like cat piss now and it did then," you whined, pouring the liquid left in your glass into Bucky's. He laughed at you.

After drinking that down quickly, Bucky reached across the bar and took your hand in his. "Thank you, Y/N. Really."

A toast to finding things that make us less homesick.

…

After the 1940 whiskey, Bucky came in more regularly. He stayed longer, despite the place filling with people. He even began to talk to the other regulars when they sat at the bar and argued with you about politics, the news, and kids these days. You watched him play devil's advocate, siding with the old men, sarcastically poking fun at you with a quick comment every now and then.

You weren't sure when it happened, but you realised Bucky had grown to be comfortable in the space. And there was something about that that made you ridiculously happy. Like, sunbeams bouncing around on the inside of you making you all hot and tingly and full of joy whenever he was there kind of happy. It was gross.

Bucky would walk in, sit, place his cap down and grin at you with his cute little teeth and sparkly blue eyes. It made your day without exception, and you started to notice more little things about him and how they made you feel. When he hooked his hand behind his ear it would make your stomach flip.

One time, when he was telling you a story about carnival rides and baby Steve throwing up, a loose strand of hair fell across his face and you immediately and unconsciously leant across the bar and folded it gently behind his ear for him. Bucky froze, and you went to apologise, but he spoke first. "Thanks," he said softly, with more meaning than the situation called for, then continued on with his story.

It was like that for just over a month. Then he stopped coming in. There was nothing in his final visit to indicate he wasn't coming back. Bucky just disappeared.

CLICK TO READ PART 2/2

[jbbuckybarnes]

Zerfall - 8/14

Pairing: Bucky x named!Reader (Agent Andromeda) Summary: After Hydra drops virus bombs in 7 major American cities in the height of summer, the team is locked in their emergency bunker for weeks. The virus commonly called the Summer Poison successfully brought the infrastructure to a halt in all big cities. When the virus slowly starts burning itself out SHIELD Agents and Avengers are sent out to bring back order into the cities and the international relationships. Not without hurdles. Warnings for this chapter: Pandemic, crime, canon typical violence, flirting, picturing killing as a positive thing, weird grammar. Not beta read. **Image credit goes to Ubisoft.

Zerfall Masterlist || M a s t e r l i s t

08:00 - Morgan Library, New York City “Wake up, Buckaroo. We have another library to occupy.” you shake him awake. “God, this feels like the 40s,” he grumbled rubbing his eyes. You cleared your throat, “Good morning, Sergeant Barnes,” you climbed on top of him, “Breakfast ends in 20 minutes.” His hair was ruined three seconds later with a giggle before he grabbed you in the middle of your escape. “Way better,” he grumbled into your hair. “You like it when women are soft and you can protect them. I read you like a book, Barnes.” you grinned. “I have a metal arm that’s shielding from bullets. Of course, I like to be protective, Agent.” he chuckled letting you go and made a run for the food.

“Davis? Bucky?” The two men looked up to you from their food before you sat down on their table. “There’s a lower building across from the library that you could take a sniper rifle to. Sounds like a job for you both. I’ll go front and some of the civilians come from Bryant Park.” “You’re right. She really is a badass.” Captain Davis mumbled over at Bucky. “She’s getting the shit done.” He shrugged looking over at you with a smirk. “I guess that’s an affirmative.” You smiled at both of them before starting to eat your soup. “It is, General Andromeda.” You got a wink back. “If I get the paygrade of a General by the end of this I could get used to being called by that title.” You grinned wide.

Two hours later, after you helped the settlement to change their interior around in a more strategic way in case of an attack, you finally wandered towards the Public Library in a group of about 20 people with rifles and vests. “Groups of three on each side entrance. Two with me. Barnes on that building. Davis on that one. Understood?” you looked up at the circle around you. “Understood.” Came back in a choir. “Showtime, guys.” You grinned, picking out the two people to come in through the front with you. A guy with military experience and a girl that grew up in a forest, being perfect with knives. “Everyone on position?” You asked over the communication devices. “One. On position.” “Two. On position.” “Three. On position.” You let EADA scan the entrance area. Quite a few guards. “Wait till we go for it. They might want to escape. If there is nobody after I gave the signal you can storm in.” you told them. You looked left and right to your partners for the mission and each of them nodded. “Going in.”

You jumped over the car you were hiding behind and throwing a bomb with that momentum to land right in the entrance area. “Two gone,” you whispered before getting out your two pistols while the bomb exploded. The second it went up in flames you ran to the next best cover and landed a few good head and torso shots from there. “Wait on my signa-” You were choked from behind. “Whatcha gonna do now, sweetie?” A dark voice chuckled. You yanked your head to the side and felt blood on your cheek shortly after together with a thud behind you. Bucky. “Thanks, partner.” You grinned. “It’s what I’m here for. Always watching your six.” He smiled through his scope. “That sounds like a pick-up line about my ass.” You giggled. “That’s a talk for after the apocalypse, darling.” You got rid of 4 more guards. Your two partners of 3. Bucky and Davis of 5. “Storm in.” you called out kicking in the door that was mildly damaged from the bomb. Head, torso, head, torso, shin, head. You aimed up at staircases and made your way through the rest of the building. “You good? How many?” you asked the others. “Everyone dead. 3.” “Same here. 4.” “Two here.” “Skim through the entire building and make sure nobody is hiding,” you mumbled into the ear piece, suddenly hearing footsteps. In a matter of seconds you got out of your cover and shot the person sneaking up on you in the shoulder, after making sure it wasn’t someone friendly you landed another shot into the head. “Scum,” you grumbled, kicking him before ripping the dog tag off of him. You put your wrist to your mouth, “Eda, scan for important things. Electronics, important books to keep in an extra space, anything.” “There is a computer still up and running in the front row.” Came back shortly after. “Good.” After hacking your way through the computer without much information recovered you finally stepped out of the building again, seeing a guard still securing the front. “Wanted to keep that one for you.” You heard Bucky in your ear piece and smiled before sneaking up on the man and sticking a knife into his throat. There was a lip bite and a suppressed groan behind the sniper scope. He shouldn’t be turned on by this. He really shouldn’t. “Everything is cleared.” EADA informed you. “You can move in, Captain.” “You’re really something else, Agent Andromeda.” “I know.” You winked up to where he was positioned.

-

“God, I love that my favorite sauce comes in glasses. Apocalypse proof food.” You smiled over the pot of pasta that was cooking. You had made Steve’s floor of the building into your little area after the mission went well and you had reported to the others about the day. “Something that isn’t soup and veggies is the thing I’m personally more excited about, but sure.” He chuckled while nudging you. “I really don’t know how I keep doing all of this without getting stressed out by it, you know?” You smiled up at him while pouring the sauce into a pot. “Yeah. Guess you have a good motivation behind it.” His hand was on the small of your back. “Well, it’s pretty simple. I thrive on killing bad people.” You shrugged. “That is a little dark, but valid.” He scrunched his nose.

There were tiny lights throughout the city, but the sky was beautiful again. Not a single cloud. You had snatched yourself blankets and sat down on the deck overlooking the city. “I wish New York had days every year where all the lights would just stay off. I remember when the skyline had like 4 or 5 skyscrapers and you could still see the stars well in Queens.” “You took girls on dates there, huh?” You grinned over. “Yeah.” He smiled up. “Definitely better than going to the movies,” you commented before shoving the next fork of pasta into your mouth. “I just like the wonder in other people’s eyes when they stare up that the sky.” He said a little dreamy and you looked over at him with the softest expression imaginable.

“So, Rockefeller Center and Times Square tomorrow?” You asked after finishing your dinner. “Two control points in a day?” He asked back surprised. “Those are both open spaces tho. Come on, Bucky. We are Avengers and we know the faster we get that done, the better the snowball effect will continue.” You grabbed his shoulder. “Guess you’re right, Ann.” He gave you a lopsided smile. “C’mon. Let’s have a good night of sleep here and kill some of those bastards tomorrow to get your hometown back on track.” You gave a cheeky grin. “Don’t have to tell me twice, darling.” He said standing up and looking down at you for a second.

The next day was filled with two missions and a few more civilians fighting with you on the missions. You’d finally given them hope to get their town back. The Times Square area was full of food resources and antiseptic equipment. To your surprise the reinforcements for that base were not very intense and you had the base in two hours. “Build a few walls around it, have people in the houses looking down before eventually building outlook platforms.” You told the ones staying behind to hold the post. “The rest? We’re going shopping...kinda.” You chuckled.

The Rockefeller Center was a little bit harder, but still a 3 hour takeover with Bucky and Captain Davis on your side. “This is going to be a little bit harder to reinforce, but I’m sure you can find a few ways and a minigun to put there.” You pointed at a good spot and got salutes back. “Damn, I need a break now. And you need a bandaid for that cut.” You pointed up at Bucky. “That’s gone by the time you found one,” he said grabbing you closer on the walk out of the area. “Can I have some of that supersoldier healing?” You chuckled putting your arm around his back. “If I could give that to others, I would.” He laughed. “Let’s go home and watch something from Tony’s Blu-Ray collection.” You looked up. “How about...Star Wars?” He suggested. “Ugh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully and got a pinch into your side through the vest.

You started really appreciating the perks of this tower having power in the middle of all of this happening. You had the luxury to not only help friendly people with supplies, but you were able to live normally outside of your intense day job. “Rogue One is just the best.” Bucky mumbled with Chips in his mouth. “It’s badass.” You gave him a fond smile and he stopped in his tracks, eyes innocently going up. “You can have the rest, dork.” You laughed, boxing his arm. “If Steve would see this he’d give us the biggest monologue in history.” He grinned. “You’re eating on the couch and watching Star Wars in the middle of the apocalypse!” You said imitating his frowning face. “Imagine that in small and how hard it was to not roll my eyes every minute of every day.” He shook his head. “Small Steve would be a really great activist nowadays, I assume,” you said tucking the blanket around you tighter. “Yeah, probably. Turned into an idiot with a frisbee instead. Can’t blame him, he’s still a good friend.” He shrugged. “Vibranium arms are definitely better than vibranium frisbees.” You chuckled. “Ya think?” He held his arm out slightly before giving you a fake mad glare and a fist formed towards you. “You act all tough most of the time but I know that it’s just a front. You’re a softie.” You giggled taking his hand and felt the hand turn around and grab your hand. “Guess I like to scare people with my image.” he grinned. “Well, you’re not that anymore. You’re soft Bucky, killing the bad guys.” You smiled at him. “Yeah.” He stared back at you with shimmering eyes for a while. “Another movie?” You mumbled and got a nod back.

[ceealaina]

Title: Why Can't I Be You (Or: Aww, Paperwork) Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S4 - Kate Bishop/Hawkeye Ship: Gen (Minor Background Stony) Rating: Teen Major Tags: Humor, Misunderstandings Summary: When Clint has to go away on a deep cover mission, he doesn’t hesitate to name Kate as his replacement on the Avengers roster. But when he forgets to, you know, actually submit the paperwork, misunderstandings and confusion ensue. (Not quite 616 and not quite MCU, but some fun hybrid of the two.) Word Count: 2257

When Clint found out about his three-month deep-cover mandatory assignment with SHIELD, he didn’t hesitate to designate Kate as his official temporary replacement on the Avengers roster. He’d been mentoring her for just over two years now, and while he’d never say it to her face, she’d probably stopped needing the mentoring just under two years ago. Kate was phenomenal, confident and competent and with his same penchant for disgustingly sugary breakfast cereal. Really, the only problem he could see was somebody (Tony) getting funny ideas about making his temporary replacement a little more permanent. It was an absolutely flawless plan. 

Except, of course, that while Clint had many talents, paperwork was not one of them. And as such, he forgot to actually designate Kate as his replacement. 

Clint had only been gone a few days before the next call to assemble had come in, and since it was a frequent occurrence for Clint to disappear off to BedStuy and/or the vents during their downtime, nobody had really questioned not seeing him around the tower. 

Tony was flying over Chelsea Market (there was a reason that the Avengers were based in New York, and it wasn’t just the late-night dining options), trying to figure out their best bet for dealing with the giant starfish… things they were fighting back into the ocean when something caught his eye and he stopped dead, hovering a few feet away from a rooftop. Everyone knew that Clint’s favourite colour was purple, and he certainly couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing a purple jumpsuit with hip cutouts -- especially not while wielding a bow and arrow -- but that was as far  as the resemblance went. The figure on the rooftop was decidedly more feminine than Tony remembered Barton being, moving with easy, lithe movements that were a far cry from Clint’s normal blend of competent dumbassery. 

He was so focused on this strange newcomer that he nearly missed the giant sea urchin headed his way until all of a sudden there were spines on his arm and a huge sucking hole almost right in his face. Tony made a disgusted noise because that mouth thing was disturbing on a level he couldn’t even examine. But before he could form any kind of attack response, an arrow was flying past him, missing his shoulder by millimeters to embed itself right in the centre of the sea urchins mouth hole thing, sending it rolling off in the other direction. Tony turned in time to see the woman on the roof throw him a saucy salute that was all Clint. 

“Okay,” Tony said to no one in particular. “Sure.”

Throwing himself back into the fray, Tony searched out Steve on the battlefield below and then switched over to a private line. 

“Uh, hey honey,” he said, shooting a repulsor blast at the same time. “Can I hum in your ear a second?” 

Steve’s sigh was weary. “Tony, I’ve told you before. No sexting on the battlefield.” 

“Technically it’s not sexting if we’re speaking to each other,” Tony couldn’t help pointing out. “Also, I want you to know that somewhere there’s an alternate universe where I’m married to Rhodey, and he lets me talk dirty in his ear anytime.”

“Tony.”

 “Right. No, not it’s not that. Uh, your three o’clock. You seeing what I’m seeing?” 

He watched as Steve turned in the direction he had pointed out, and then winced as the shield went flying into the giant L of the Google sign, shattering the lower part of it. 

“Shit,” Steve cursed, shifting position to retrieve it. “Is that…?”

“Clint?” Tony supplied. “Lady Clint? I’ve got no idea, but I’ve got a really bad feeling that the answer to that is a resounding yes.” 

Steve cursed under his breath again, launching himself at another one of the sea monsters. “Okay,” he said, and Tony was only a little resentful that he didn’t even sound winded. “Let’s just… Deal with this, and then we’ll deal with that.” 

***

Kate swung down from the fire escape, sticking the landing perfectly. Her heart was still pounding with adrenaline in the best way. This wasn’t her first fight, obviously, but there was a big difference between helping Clint take out the tracksuit mafia and a full-scale Avengers mission against… Well, she still wasn’t sure what those things had been but it didn't matter. That had been incredible.

Abruptly she stopped as she realized that Captain America and Iron Man were standing at the entrance to the alley, watching. She took a moment to steady herself, because holy shit, these were the Avengers waiting for her to join them (and yes, okay, technically Clint was an Avenger too, but that was different) and drew in a deep breath before striding forward with as much confidence as she could muster. 

“Hi,” she said, thrusting her hand forward. Her dad had been an asshole, but he’d still impressed on her the importance of a strong handshake. “I’m the new and improved Hawkeye.”

There was a sound from Iron Man that may have been a snort, and then his faceplate was rolling back to reveal sparkling eyes and wow. Older dudes weren’t really her thing, but the tabloids did not do him justice. 

“Sure,” he said, taking her hand in his own metal grip. “Nice to meet you.” 

Beside him, Captain America rolled his eyes. “Hilarious,” he said dryly. 

Kate hesitated a moment, a little hurt that he wouldn’t even shake her hand, but tried to tell herself that maybe he was still in post-mission mode, and all business business. Or maybe he was just a dick, but she felt like Clint would have mentioned that at some point. Steve seemed to confirm her first thought when, a beat later, he was pressing a hand against Iron Man’s back, steering him back toward the street. 

“Come on, let’s just get back to the Tower, so we can sort this all out.” He glanced over at Tony, a little more fondness in his voice. “You gonna make me fill out your action report too?” 

“Obviously,” Tony told him.

Steve glanced back at Kate, and this time she could see he was smiling a little. “I hope you don’t think this means you’re getting out of doing your paperwork.” 

“I… Wasn’t,” she told him, still a little confused. Captain America might not have been the dick that he’d first appeared to be, but she had the feeling that she was missing something very important here. 

Tony and Steve talked the whole way to the Quinjet, some hybrid of tactical discussion and friendly bickering that left Kate to follow a step behind them. Occasionally there’d be a moment of silence as they’d wait for her input, but truthfully Kate was only humming in agreement to words she hadn’t heard, still a little in awe that she was working with the actual Avengers. When they reached the jet Tony had clapped Steve on the shoulder and told him he’d meet him back home, apparently flying back to the tower under his own power. He’d taken a step back, faceplate coming down, and then he stilled. 

“Hey, great work today, by the way. You handled that insanely well.” 

“Uh.” Kate looked around, sure that he must be talking to Steve again, but Steve was already several feet away, talking to the Falcon, and the faceplate was pointed in her direction. “Thank you!” she told him, feeling her heart skip a beat at the idea that Iron Man was complimenting her. “You know, I was a little worried when I saw they were giant sea urchins, cause like. What? But it wasn’t so bad!” 

“Well yeah, but that’s just Avenger life. With your whole… Situation though.”

“Uhhh.” 

The faceplate came back up, and Tony stepped in closer, lowering his voice to presumably keep any of the SHIELD agents milling about from listening in. “Seriously. I know Steve said we’d figure this out back at the tower, but you’ve gotta be freaking out a little. How are you holding up?” 

Kate blinked at him. “With what?” 

Tony gestured vaguely at her body, and while Kate was getting over the weirdness of Tony Stark pointing out her boobs, he arched an eyebrow at her. “Seriously, Clint. Are you okay?” 

“Oh!” Kate’s eyes went wide as she suddenly realized what was going on. She didn’t know how, or why, but for some reason they didn’t think she was Clint’s replacement. They thought she was Clint. Somehow. It didn’t make sense to her, but she supposed for the Avengers, stranger things had happened. 

Then panic caught up with her as she realized what they meant. If they thought she was Clint, they couldn’t have been expecting her at all. What would happen if they found out she was holding Clint’s spot on her team? Would they decide she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t experienced enough? Would they make her leave? That panic was the only excuse for the words that came out of her mouth next. 

“Yes,” she said, with a slightly hysterical laugh. “Yes. I, Clint Barton, have turned into a woman.” 

She regretted it immediately, because wow Bishop, way to dig yourself into a whole, but she couldn’t stop giggling. This whole situation was just too ridiculous. 

“Right.” Tony was looking a little concerned, and like maybe he regretted bringing this up here. He settled a hand on her shoulder. “Well, try not to panic,” he told her. “This isn’t the weirdest thing that’s happened, right? We’ll figure it out.” 

“Right,” Kate said, clearing her throat and fighting to get herself under control. “Sorry, I just… Had a moment, but I’m fine. Really, it’s not even that bad. Being a woman is pretty awesome.” 

Tony grinned back at her, looking relieved. “Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so much more competent since you turned into a girl?” 

Kate started laughing again, digging around for her cell phone. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, trying to thumb open the camera app. “Can you say that again?” 

***

A few days later, and Kate was living a life of many regrets. At first, it had been hilarious as it had been ridiculous. She just assumed that wouldn’t be long before someone had a moment of “wait a minute, that’s clearly not Clint,” but that moment hadn’t arrived. 

Thor hadn’t even blinked at the announcement that Clint was a woman now, shrugging and asking in his big booming voice (because holy shit, he was the actual god of thunder and wow, did he look like it) if ‘humans didn’t just change physical genders sometimes, you know?’ And the round of blank stares he’d just shrugged again and informed them that Loki did it all the time, like that somehow made it normal. 

And, to be fair, Kate probably hadn’t helped things when they’d ordered pizza, and she started interacting with the deaf delivery driver in sign language, but really. Was she supposed to just ignore her?

But now she was stuck. She was in too deep, and didn’t know how she was even going to begin to explain that Surprise! She wasn’t Clint at all, she had just been letting them think that for three days now, because she was a lunatic, apparently. 

(She was also trying very hard not to be offended that nobody had figured it out. She loved Clint like a brother, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be him.)

Luckily, as it turned out, Kate didn’t have to explain herself at all. She was sitting in the enormous common kitchen area (the novelty of living in Avengers Tower not having worn off at all) trying to soothe her growing panic with an enormous bowl of Lucky Charms that she’d pulled from the cupboard, ignoring the warning of ‘CLINT’S ONLY. DO NOT TOUCH’ written in big, bold, Sharpie letters across the front. Then the door swung open, sharp footsteps entering the room. 

“Alright, Barton. What’s this I hear about you managing to turn yourself into a woman?”

Kate looked up with wide eyes, watching as Natasha walked into the room, flanked on either side by Tony and Steve. “Uh. Hi, Nat!”

Nat took one look at Kate and her guilty smile and rolled. “I am surrounded by idiots,” she announced. 

And that was the end of Kate’s career as Clint-Hawkeye. (But not, thankfully, the end of her career as an Avengers.)

Epilogue

It was another two weeks before Clint was able to come back on comms long to call and check in to see how she was doing. When Kate told him everything that had happened (because if she didn’t, someone would, and it would probably Deadpool, and it would just be much, much better if it came from her) Clint had laughed for five minutes straight. 

“I feel like I should be insulted that they didn’t even blink over the idea that I got myself turned into a woman,” he told her, still chuckling every few words. “But it’s so funny that I really can’t be.” 

“You’re insulted?” Kate retorted. “I spent three days with everybody just assuming I was you.”

“Yes,” Clint agreed, not even slightly offended. “That is definitely worse.” 

“Hey,” Kate said after a moment of comfortable silence. “How come you never gave me a heads up that Captain America and Iron Man are dating?” 

From the other end of the phone, there was a spluttering, choking, coughing sound. 

“I’m sorry, Captain America and Iron Man are what now?”

@tonystarkbingo

[charmed-asylum]

🔪Midnight Desire🔪

Midnight Desire, chapter 4 

Summery:  A group of seniors  simple night of drinking and partying at their local grocery store. Turns for the worst when they realize they are lock in with something far more dangerous then they ever imagine

Declaimer: Midnight Desire has a few curse words and hints of assault . This is my very first story I am posting on tumblr so please be kind give it a glance. I promise you a good ride from beginning to end. So buckle up and enjoy the ride!!!! <3 Ps. If you want the extended ending let me now

MD Part:  1 2 3 

tagged: @nottherightseason @strangerfictions @weapinggwillowss @thewolfswriting 

I wanna thank everyone for joining me on this little ride. Hope you enjoy. xo Charmed Asylum 

Cora grab her away from the body. " He gone. He dead" she said wiping her hand across Jo face. There was blood everywhere. Fred just stop still. Garrett was stunned. Cora was trying to cradle a now traumatized Jo. “We are going to die. No we are dead already " Jo said still in Cora arms . Garrett looks at her. Then at Fred. " Hey you always want people to follow you and do as you do. Then lead us. Or at least help" he says to him.  Fred starts looking around then looks at Jo. " No no . We just need to think” he stops looks at Jo “ We all know what he wants. The freak. We should just leave her. Then he let us go. You said baby how you hate her. Well here your chance" he says looking at Cora .

 Cora looks at him then at Jo. Garrett punch him square in the face. " Over my dead body. There a way. One we all can survive. Just need to find the old loading area. It's a little this way"he says and starts walking a bit of blood dripping from his knuckles. 

Jo looks around. Absorbing everything. Trying to remain calm. She gestures to the group to stop and come back. Jo takes a deep breath in trying to get her mind back on track. " Garrett you said and obviously know this place but you didn't even know about that lair and we left way before him.  For him to kill Farah and be ahead of us to kill Lex. Look our flashlights on our phones  literally putting us on find my phone app. We are blind and he knows that. We need to be smart" she said holding her light down looking at the group.

One thing she learned was just because you have a care doesn't mean you live in the clouds. She had to be strong to make it back home. Tell her mom. Get back no matter what. Garrett looks at her then look at the others. " Then here Fred and Cora hold hands. Cora hold Jolie hands and you hold mines. One light I go first. Hear weird sounds or feel something off tug a hand"  he says. Each of them does as he says and starts to walk forward. Garrett walk slow trying to reach the safe point. " You were smart back there Jolie. Hey if we don't make it. Even though this has been a crappy day. I'm happy your here. I just wish I was more smart and said something before now" Garrett said and continue to stay focused. She glanced at him with a bashful smile and then back at the rest. How did he know when she needed him most

Fred felt more than betrayal. Not only  by his friends his girlfriend  but by a nobody.  A loser. Someone that in less than a day became a total pain in the butt. He tug at Cora. 

" I got to take a shit. Come with me" he said touching her cheek with a smirk across his face. She rolls her eyes at him and look ahead. 

" Why your scared. Can't believe this is happening. My day is sucking harder than a lollipop. Fine but I want to make out. If I die I die doing what I want. I'm staying outside while you do your do. Kinda don't want to be more turn off then I am right now" she said nonchalantly. 

Cora quickly let go off Jo hand while she was to busy looking at Garrett and walk off with Fred. Fred kiss Cora on the check and goes in. Anger he had built up filled his mind and heart. Flashing some water on his face. He looks up to the old broken mirror. 

" Shot. Just need away out. Get my head together back in the game. Be in control. Instead of walking around with a bunch of freaks" he said then heads to the bathroom stall. 

He started to hum to himself. The door behind him open. Footsteps clung behind him slowly. " Hey baby I be done in a second. Go so I can finish!" he said still peeing. The steps got closer to him louder louder . Zipping himself up and turns around. A short scream came out.

" OH SHUT NO NO NO'" he yelled.

Pleading for his life. The stranger took out a big cutting knife and raised it above his head. Fred was out of options. There was nothing else but to return the favor. 

" Look look. I know only thing you want is the girl. The little bit.... Angel . I can help you. Bring her to you. I just wanted to go home. You can take whoever you want. Take the other girl . I do not even fucking care. Let me just help you. Please PLEASE" he pleaded with the stranger. Tears and snot infused with one another as he pleaded.

He lay there by his feet. Fred was crying now like a little baby. The stranger lower the knife and walk away into the darkness . Fred was at peace. Few seconds later Cora and Jo came in. Cora rush to Fred to comfort him. 

" Your shaking baby what's wrong ?" Cora said rubbing her hands through his thigh black hair. He holds her tight close to his chest  and look deep into Jo eyes. Evan with Garrett jacket he could see the outline of her lace bra and flat stomach that was clinging to blood stain top. Cora was speaking words of motivation and naughty thoughts. Her eyes shift away from his.

" I'm alright. Just worried about you,baby. I love you" he said with a void seductive tone.

" Where Garrett. Did something happen to him" he said still holding Cora now by the hand. Could he be that lucky . Jo looked back at him then roll her eyes. Cora looked at him then outside. " He outside. Looks like they got in their first fight. Cute right.  She wants to stay with me. She worried about him.  Can you keep an eye out on him. Maybe stay with him" she said giving him butterfly kisses. Jo look away with disgust stick her tongue out about to throw up. His eyes never left Jo as he smiles and shakes his head yes. Maybe luck was on his side after all. 

     ____________________________________________________

Jo stops then looks both ways. SHUT 

"Garrett" she whispers.

 She tugs at his hand to stop.

 " What you fine? Anything dizzy " he said tugging at Jo bag over his shoulder huffing at its weight .

 She looks past him. " They let go off my hand. They must of went back" she stops and looks ahead " We are close shouldn't we just keep going. Get out find help. Garrett" Jo said. He looks ahead then back behind her. He shocked his head no. " Sounds good but no let's find a spot back and wait.Give them ten minutes. Crazy as it sounds they might of went to hook up. Stupid timing. Leave no one behind. Jolie. Remember" he said with a sweet smile.

 She tapped her left foot and nodded. They walk back to a water fountain. Jo looks at Garrett then ahead. She slowly goes to grab the bag. " Let me hold it. You need water. Look exhausted" she grabbing for the bag. He stops her. Then shocked his head no. Stubborn she still grab for it. It was heavy for a bag she knew didn't have much in it.

 " Why is it so heavy. What did you put in here. Bricks" she said with an innocent chuckle . She sat down with the bag between her legs and start to open it. Garrett started to worry. Unsure if he wanted her to know what was the unknown. " Stop it's nothing just my plan B" he said. She looks at him then open it. She stayed still. Gazing at the bag. She slow grab one and took one out. " What is this… What is it doing in here" she said holding up a homemade throw bomb. Garrett started to walk back and forth. "Protection" he said quietly. She tosses it to him . He stumbled to quickly catch it. " Yea I get that but why do you know how to make one. Garrett. People just don't know off the back how to make things like this. I thought we….. I trust you. I give you my life . But this. There must be at least three in here" she said looking through the bag. She was stunned. He looks at her and grabs the bag away from her. 

 " Not now Jolie. Not now" he said to her with a little bit of a harsh tone. She stop him and look back. Surprised. " No we stop for them they are not here. Tell me. Let me know your still my knight" she said looking at him. He kick at a stack of cereal box cursed under his breath.

 "Baby you can.. Look. This year has been a shit show. I basically lost everything. I thought about a lot of dark shit" he stopped and got close to her. His thumb rubs gently across her cheekbone before coming in to kiss her on the cheek. " It’s not like I’m going to still do it. Not now. We have each other. Now. It was a thought . I was going to kill everyone Jolie. Go to school and fucking murder the shit out of everyone. You understand. Don't you? We talked you understand. I even had it planned you survive. Soul survive" he said looking at the bombs then at her. She was stunned about everything. He looks at her. With words of comfort she could not get the look her gave her.  Full of disappointment he grab the bag and walk towards them. She was quite a few tears left her rosy cheeks. She glanced at him then back on the floor.

 " Why kill people. Your leaving soon. Your better than that. At least I thought you were.I thought I could trust you. You protect me. Better than everyone else. How can you say you care if you was just gonna leave me behind in this mad word" she said still looking at the ground. He said nothing but just kept moving. Cora was by the make up area looking around trying on lipsticks when they found her. Jo pass Garrett and started to look for Fred. 

" I just want this night to be over" she said passing Cora. Cora glanced at her then look at Garrett. " What donkey crap did you do to her,Garrett" she said hitting his shoulder. He was quite just looking ahead where Jo walked off .He looks down at her " Nothing. Just hurt about one of the few people I care for. Where Fred we need to go". Cora looks at herself in a reflection of a broken mirror then again at him. Rolling her eyes she followed Jo towards the bathroom. " Hey. Did that jerk. Do something to you. Jolie. Was he uhh " she said to say looking at her. Jo looks at her  a few old tears drying up on her checks and shakes her head no. " I want to go home. I should not of ask him about the bag. He… I never should have looked. I hate I love.  Think all this is hurting him psychological or something. Where's Fred" she said looking at her. Cora sighed then pointed at the bathroom. "There there. Sorry he hurt you.  You never really look like this before.  I make Fred keep an eye on him. I get us home" she said holding Jo hand tight.

       _______________________________________________________

 Fred look at them and try detox a plan. Jo looks at Fred then at Cora. Fred looked down at his watch and set the timer. Walking up to Garrett with one eye on Jo. That eye can never leave her. They got closer to the old shipping area. It was dark. Creepy. Garrett motion at Fred. " We are almost there. I'm going to go tell the girls" he says. Fred looked at his watch 8 minutes left. SHIT Looking back at them he smiles. " I will tell them. We are a team. Right?  You go ahead and try for the doors, we be right behind you" he says with a huge smile.

 Garrett looks ahead at Jo who was a couple of feet behind talking to Cora. Still her eyes were locked on him. " Sure just tell. Jolie. I'm sorry. For letting her down. I'm better because of you" he said full of sorrow. Fred felt sick to his stomach . What a mommy boy  Garret continue ahead towards the doors. 

 Fred runs towards Cora and Jo. " Hey uh honey. Garrett said we are close" he stops and look at Jo " but baby he needs you. Girl advice. Or some crap... I stay with her. Keep her safe" he says giving her a quick kiss on the lips. Cora whisper to Jo then started to go after Garrett. Fred look again. 4 minutes.

 Jo looks at him with gentle innocent stare . " Hey I'm sorry about all of this. Sadly I wish we could be friends. Not this. I never said a thing  by way" she says looking at him. No emotions. Fred shook his head then went along a little bit of course. Jo not paying not much attention followed him. Fred looks at her. A part of him felt bad for what to come if he had a few hours he was sure he could get her screaming his name. A wolf grind creep across his face of that thought.  " You know something crazy. This has been a really great night. Party did my side and main in one night fucking wet dream . Like everything I ever wanted. And I didn't have to do anything" he says walking with a broken piece of a mirror in his hand. Not feeling right. Jo stops and slowly start to back away from beside him. He stop and turn around. He smiled at her with a toxic insane smile. Jo looks at his face then at his hands. She quickly turns around to see the stranger behind her in the dark shadows. Watching. Jo flings away from him and starts to run. In two big steps Fred comes from behind and tackle her to the ground. He pins her down while her body shack trying to get loose. He leans into kiss her hands. The touch felt like acid touching her skin . She wiggles and  kick him to the groin. She crawls trying to get on her feet. Fred from behind grabs her feet and flip her again. Now putting all his body weight on her. He reach close and leaves a bit mark on her neck. 

" You know looking at you now. I can see what the town talking about. Heck I see why Garrett was so woo by you. To bad just like everything else I going to have try it first" he says still holding her down. Forcing his lips onto hers. His hips grinding into hers with strides. Hand over her mouth trying to hide her pain. Out of no there was a BANG. Drops of blood drips onto her face across her brown eyes. Fred lunges up in pain. Screaming and cursing. Garrett rush past him and grabs Jo. Cora was holding up the gun Garrett had earlier straight at Fred. " He is here. He here" Jo say getting away with Garrett. Garrett looks back at Fred who was slowly making his way for them. Eyes full of anger with his body ready to get his prey. Cora looks at the two than motions to go. She shoots again at him. Warning him to stop. Crying at him with guilt and anger. From behind him there a figure still in the shadow still behind Fred . His watch goes off. Fred stun. Looks down at the watch then at them. Then behind him. The figure was only now a couple feet inches away. Fred with all his might lunges at Cora with the broken mirror. Bang bang bang. Cora screams in horror as she shoots her boyfriend since seventh grade down dead.

Without thinking Cora rushes to the now dead body.  Kissing Fred on the check trying to wake him up. Frozen of what she had done. Garrett still holding on to Jo calls out for her to hurry. Mascara and eyeliner running down her face. She slowly gets up and runs her way towards Garrett.  It's weird to believe that one night can sum up a lifetime.

       _________________________________________________

He was full of endless thoughts to himself. Whispers of a sadness. "So poop head what is it you want to talk about" she said trying to mirror her best Jolie impression. Garrett looks at her then looks back. Confuse. Talking to himself out loud. 

 "Nothing.... I was just so blinded. Today makes over six months I been on the track to a new. Your shitty boyfriend getting coach to kick me off... be poking me sideways. Just seeing the hurt and pain in someone's eyes but feeling the ever ending love of someone. Unconditional " he said full of thoughts. Cora look at him then behind her. Jolie and Fred was still there. Cora looks at him. 

"Sometimes we act blind because we are too much of a coward to realized the truth. You said something.  About her the one we both had the endless need to save her when all she wants to do is save us. Maybe it's my fault for all this. I saw things instead of protecting I use it to get what I want. I might act like I don't like her but I actually love her. If she can still everyday take up with me and my bitchy crap she forgive you" Cora said. 

She felt bad. NO responsible. 

She played with his emotions use him as her entertainment. Not knowing he really cared. Was invested. 

Garrett started to smile then freeze. 

" Thanks but...Wait what advice are you supposed to tell me. I never.... Wait why didn't Jolie come up with Fred yet" he said starting to freak out. Cora froze. She turned around nothing was there. "Wait. Garrett. You ask for girls advice right?  You told he you need me right? Told that prick to stay with her right" she says to him her voice started to crumble . 

Garrett puts his left hand to his face then looks at her. He glances at the metal doors then at her.

 " I was going to run back to get you guys. We were close but he basically beg to do it. SHIT . You stay here. Better than that stay straight you get to a part with a lot of old cracks push through and find whatever you have to get out. Then get help" he says then starts to run the opposite direction towards Fred. Cora starts running straight then freeze. She turns around and tries to reach Garrett. "That sounds good but I don't want to go alone and if there is a killer. He might be there. Give me something" she says trying to catch her breath. 

Garrett takes out the gun and hammer then tries to give Cora the hammer. Cora grabs the gun. And keeps on moving. 

" You think I'm stupid. I did had a younger brother before after all . We played a lot of video games" she says clocking the gun. 

They look around. Calling out Fred and Jo name. Nothing. Garrett started to get upset. "What if he did something. That's the second time . I allowed him to do it to her" he said tearing up. 

Cora still walking. "We both allowed things to happen to her. Maybe that's why we are both so hard on our self to save her. But she strong trust me. Wait you heard that sound" she said looking around.

 Garrett stops and try to listen. The sound was faded. They ran closer towards the sound. Fred was over a wild Jo. Garrett places his arm in front of Cora to not rush in.

" We can't ever be too safe. Let's go that way light on the feet. You grab her I keep the gun on him" he says motioning her to keep low.

She check the gun once again.

"No all the crap he put me though no. I do it" she says and rush towards him. Garrett follows right behind her. 

Her hands were shaking while her body was still. She stood over his lifeless body. She saw his eyes fool of love,anger, fear, and now as his soul left his physical body. She leaned down and slap his face. Jo grabs at her screaming let's go. As she turned around she finally saw it saw the urban legend the stranger lurking in the shadows. They all ran for it towards the entrance. Cora looks back trying to find the stranger. Tripping. Jo starts to run after her when Garrett stops her. Holding her back as she kick and scream to save her.  Cora looks again the stranger was only a few feet away. " GO GO GO. I BE FINE. GO" she says getting the gun out to shoot it.

 Garrett grabs Jo and continue to run. Cora aims and shoots at him. A few rounds. She kept trying to shoot but she was out of bullets. The stranger grab at her and started choking her. She scratches at him. Getting free she ran along the side of a conveyor belt . The big hands grab at her foot trying to stab her. Afraid she throws whatever  she can at him. The stranger takes a cordless electric cutter and slice her once on the hand and once on the side. Cora now in fear struggle on the conveyor belt drags herself away from him. Crawling  she beg for mercy from the silent killer.  He walks slowly behind her watching her struggle. Taking the remote to the conveyor belt and press big red button . A drill comes and sticks right into Cora's stomach. Cora screams dark red drops of blood spit out her mouth and corner of her eyes as she cried out of pain.  She reaches up to the stranger to see her killer face. Fingers grip tight to the mask covering its face. Slipping into darkness her eyes pierced with fear  and pure horror.

     __________________________________________________

Jo and Garrett finally getting  to the doors stop midway when they heard the screams. Jo looks back. Then starts going back trying to help her save her.Garrett looks at Jo. "Jolie. Look I'm sorry about all of this . What I said... Didn't say" he says. She looks at him then goes to find something to break the lock. She wanted to cry give up but she knew that was not part of her plan. The stranger wanted to that. And no matter what she wasn't gonna let him win. Coming back to him she looks at him then away. Finally realizing what he said . " Garrett I can not never be mad at you. You're the love I deserve. The passion that I  would sell my soul for. I care for you to much  " she stops and starts banging at the chains. Garrett holding the hammer looks at her. A soft smile came across his face. "How do you know. You deserve so much more than me. Don't hate or stop at your happiness" he said full of guilt. Jo moves her hair away from face. She looks at him and grab his hand. 

" Not now. Garrett. With all the crap I been through.  We been though.You you was the only hope for peace love I felt since I came here. I was mad but you care about me. I know. I will  never forget that. But now you have to  let me help you. Honey. You fight till there no fighting left then crawl the rest. We are going to make it" she said holding onto him tight. She could tell his was losing hope. Just a little more she thought to herself. She continues to bang at the chains. Bang bang. The door to the room start to open. Garrett look at Jo then towards the door. Jo starts pulling with all her might to open the chain. Garrett pushes  her out the way and starts pulling. Jo looks down and see he was cut a little by the rib. Garrett breaking the chain. Grab her hand again.Take it off. As they got closer to freedom. Garrett slowly lets go and step back full of pain. Jo stops. Garrett looks at the bag then at her. " We can end it. For our friends. Jolie don't you think we should take it. The chance" he says. Jo looks at him then at the chains. She knew what he wanted to do.Give up. 

" No no I need you. We are so close. Let's just go. You and me. Remember" she says. He looks at her then back away. His mind was set.

" Alright but what if they think we did this. Killed everyone Jolie. I'm going back and check" he said with his hand out for her. 

She looks at his hand. He was right even if she did not fully agree." Together. Jolie. I place the bombs and you can run to booth" he said now taking her hand. They covered the unlock chains then ran across the side of the wall. There was no sign of it. Garrett stops Jo. 

" Now I stay here and keep watch. I don't know if I have enough to make it. Go up there and get the tapes. Our insurance . Two minutes" he said. Jo nod and  went. Music was playing in the background. Hello by Lionel Richie. A song Jolie knew too well. She turned to look at Garrett. Who was holding tight to the bag. She rush in and look for the tapes.She sees the stranger walking around as she picked up the last tape. She watched him. Take off your mask. You animal she whisper to herself. The stranger was close but not to close. By the time she came back. Garrett was in a deep trance. Jo trying to be strong smiles at him.

" Jackpot. NOW Let's go home Garrett. Take me home" she said, holding his hands tight kissing him on the lips. This night was something he wanted to forget everything that has ever  happened .  He walked behind her. Watching her like he did before. The strange way he use to. Everything. The many times she would glance back in class to see if he was still looking. The many times he could even tell her how he felt but didn't. Jo called for him . It was the stranger he was standing there right behind him. "Run Jolie! Run" he says running towards her. They ran towards the door. Jo runs though and waits for him. GARRETT HURRY UP !!! He looks back at her. He goes to the door and jams it shut. Jo looks at him and starts banging at the door. Bang bang bang . He was getting close. Garrett took out the bombs and stars light them up and throwing it. He looks at the door face full of fear and sadness. " No No open the door Garrett. Opening the we can make it. You promised you promised. No" Jo screaming bang at the door with her body .He could see her hands getting bloody trying to open it. Throwing her whole body at the door. He slowly puts his hand to the mirror and mouths I love you Jolie to her. Eyes filling up with tears. Watching him.  He looks at her bloody hands. He tried to motions to go. She stood still shaking her head no.  She could not. He took one last look and rush towards it with the bomb lighten up in his hand. Boom 

Jo watches Garrett run away. Banging at the door. Make it home. You have to make it home she says to herself trying to stop from crying. Looking down at the floor she tries to get herself together. Get yourself together She runs as fast as she can to the cray. Pulling and Pulling.  Still able hear the screams  from far away. Cries for help. Garrett was crying. The explosion was loud. Jo getting the last chain off starts climbing out. Screaming for help.

     _________________________________________________

Jo sat there in the snow. The fireman and police stood in groups outside the isolated market. Trying to figure out what happened. 

She was  still as ice. No emotion. Not even a word since they got her. Even the way to the hospital. Silence.

" There was only four bodies.All look to be high school students" said an officer standing outside Jo hospital room.Two detectives walked in. The older one had a white bread, kind of like Santa Claus , got close and sat next to her. "We found some tapes on you. When you was uh picked up. Would you like to tell us what happened tonight, Ms. Westfield" he says. Jo looks outside at the cold night. She was covered in bandages. "My mom where is she. I will like to speak to her" she says still looking outside. He looks at her then at his partner. "Jo can I call you that. We tried. But we really need you to explain those tapes" he says with frustration . Jo glances at him with a side eye then back outside. "Its Jolie. And I want my mom" she stops and looks at the booth."It's been a long night. You have the tapes. I tell you. I tell you everything.  Just... Can I please have some time to myself" Jolie says. He glances at his partner and shakes his head yes. They walk out but not before saying,  “Too bad for her” .She waited a few seconds then tried her mom's cell number and house number. Slowly getting up from the bed. She made her away to the door. Something wrong she thinks to herself . She pulls out the IVU and quickly puts on some hospital shoes ,the cops left for her. She waited to the cops was gone and slip out. Jolie walked the whole way home. Running as fast as she could. Her inside start to turn to ice her mind racing. The front door was unlocked with blood on the door handle. She slowly walks in. Screaming for her mom's name Heather.  Walking around she could feel something was wrong. The whole house was a war zone. She slowly makes her way to her mom's bedroom. A short scream of horror fills the room as she sees her badly murder mother on the floor and the stranger rocking in a chair with a smile at her. Jolie wakes up. She is in the hospital covered in sweat cuffed to the bedside. " Can you believe it . I heard she ran home to see her mother was brutally murder with her step father beside the body. Holding the mom heart laughing like a madman. He still had some of the butcher get up burn to his face and body . When we got there she was just standing outside in the freezing snow humming to herself. Man confessed to everything" a cop says outside drinking a cup of coffee. 

Jolie full of madness stare out the window humming his song.

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 26)

Blessed Are The Peacemakers

Well, y’all know what’s going to happen in this chapter. Poor Arthur :(

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

The moment Dutch and Micah rode back into camp after their meeting with Colm O'Driscoll, I knew something was wrong. Dutch looked livid, far angrier than I had ever seen him before. He swung down from his Arabian and marched straight towards his tent, snapping at Hosea to join him and pushing carelessly past a concerned Molly. I looked towards the treeline for a third rider, but it was just the two of them. Other members of the camp looked on with frowns on their faces, nobody seemed to have the guts to ask what had happened, though. Micah was dawdling around the horses, giving his own a stick of celery and removing its saddle, hanging it over one of the hitching posts. 

I found myself approaching him, something he seemed very pleased about. 

"Micah," I greeted him, nodding politely. A smile broke across his face and he swanned over to me after giving his horse a parting pat on the neck. 

"Hey there, sugarplum," he drawled in his usual mocking fashion. 

"What happened? Where's Arthur?" I cut to the chase, and he soured at the mention of his name.

"Arthur," he muttered with distaste, "couldn't seem to do his job."

"What do you mean?" I questioned, something cold piercing into my belly. 

"Our truce didn't go so well, meaning it did not happen. Morgan was supposed to meet us after keeping watch over us, but he either got lost on the way to his look-out point or he's ran off with the bastards, I don't really know," he shrugged theatrically and walked away from me. I gave chase, mouth chewing up words messily before I managed to get anything resembling English to form on my tongue.

"You don't know where he is?" I asked loudly, horrified, gaining a few looks from others in the vicinity. 

"Relax, woman," he sighed heavily, spinning around to face me. "He might be a dumbass but he's capable enough of defending himself if push comes to shove."

"You're going to look for him, right? You and Dutch?" I urged, following him all the way over to Dutch's tent. 

"No, we're absolutely not going to go looking for him, because it wouldn't surprise me if that's exactly what Colm wants us to do," Dutch answered, hearing our conversation as we approached. I stared at him, mouth agape. "Don't look at me like that, you have no idea about Colm O'Driscoll."

"So– so you're just gonna leave him?" I hissed, unable to comprehend what was happening, sick with worry, my heart throbbing almost painfully inside my rib cage. Everything outside of my direct point of vision was a total murky blur. I shook a hand from my arm, unable to tell if it was Micah or Hosea when I was staring straight at Dutch.

"If I could just get five minutes," Dutch raised his voice, bringing his hands up to his temples, "to think about what I'm gonna do!"

I retreated a little, eyes dropping to the floor, mind spinning with possibilities, options, potential actions, images of Arthur in all kinds of situations. 

"I will come with you, I can shoot, I promise you I can, I can help. If you would just–” 

"Somebody get her out of here, I can barely hear myself think!" Dutch yelled, then I was being gently pulled away by a pair of cool hands on my upper arms. I let it happen as I heard Dutch spout off some more. "Don't even know why she's getting all het up, been here barely ten minutes!" 

"Don't mind her, Dutch, she's got a silly little crush," I heard Micah tell him snidely.

"Oh, that is the last thing we need–” Dutch replied, but Hosea took me away from them before I caught any more of their conversation. 

He sat me down on a log facing out over the lake, and crouched down in front of me. Even I heard the way his joints cracked as he did, but he didn't seem fazed. He took one of my hands in his, and I finally found it in me to look him in the eye. He had gentle eyes, those that belonged to literally anyone other than who I'd think of as an outlaw.

"Take a breath now, dear," he told me, and I was thankful for the reminder, having been sitting so stiff and tense I hadn't really been breathing. 

The breath I did take was shaky and betrayed my nerves. 

"It's all going to be alright, we'll fix this," Hosea said.

"Mr. Matthews, what's happening? The others are coming to all sorts of conclusions about Arthur," I heard Miss Grimshaw from over my shoulder and I squeezed my eyes shut. 

"We… we don't know. Try not to worry, Susan, and keep everyone calm. We think Colm's boys got him, but we've no reason to fear the worst just yet. Dutch is thinking things through," Hosea explained in a surprisingly placid tone of voice. There was a pause and Hosea nodded minutely at Susan, and I had the sense that she'd mouthed something behind my back, then I felt a careful hand on my shoulder lingering for only a moment before she walked away.

"He's gonna do something, right? Cause if he ain't, I'll go out there myself–" I started, and Hosea held his hand up to halt me.

"He'll figure something, he always does. I tried to warn him that this wasn't a good idea, but I guess the chance to make one of our problems go away was just too shiny to pass up."

"If Arthur…" I trailed off, my throat suddenly feeling tight, eyes going cloudy. I scrubbed at them and took a breath. 

"He's a tough one, I'm sure you know that. He can hold his own," Hosea assured me, squeezing my hand. "I know that you and Arthur have grown close."

A sound burst from me, something like a laugh, and I nodded my head. Hosea nodded too, brow creasing with pity. 

"Try not to lose your head, now. You think Arthur'd want you to worry like this? Gettin' all worked up?" He asked and I shook my head, willing the tears in my eyes to evaporate before they could get the better of me.

"No, you're right, I'm just worried. Arthur; he's… he's the only person I've ever felt–" I stopped mid sentence, biting down on my bottom lip. Hosea nodded again and patted the back of my hand, looking down at it.

"Arthur's been in a disturbingly good mood, last couple of weeks. I think you're doing him some good, my dear. You're a good kid, you've settled right in here and you pull your weight better than some of these who've been here for years," he gave a quiet laugh before continuing. "I'm real glad to have you, and I hope you don't take some of the things Dutch says to heart. I know he hasn't always been in the best of moods when you've spoken to him before."

"I don't. I'm sure Dutch has a lot of things on his plate, being the leader and all, my sensibilities shouldn't be one of 'em," I shrugged my shoulders weakly and Hosea released a soft breath. 

"Like I said, you're a good kid," he told me then pushed himself upright. "Would you like me to send someone over?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright then, sweetheart. I'll go and find out what Dutch is up to. We'll get our boy back, some way or another," he patted my shoulder before leaving me alone. 

I took a few moments for myself, leaning my elbows on my knees and staring down at the ground. My talk with Hosea had calmed me down some, but I wouldn't be able to swallow my worry without seeing Arthur first. I knew that sitting around feeling sorry for myself was doing nobody any favours, so I soon rose to my feet and walked over to Pearson's station.

The man himself had abandoned dinner, and so I picked up where he left off in its preparation. A scan of the camp found him sitting by the fire, head in his hands; I remembered that it was him who'd brought this meeting with the O'Driscolls to Dutch's attention. He must've felt terrible. Tilly was sat next to him, speaking quietly to him. Everyone else was, I realised with horror, staring right at me. I met their gazes, eyes flickering from Bill, to Karen, to Reverend Swanson before everyone suddenly found the fire very interesting and focused their attention on that instead of me. 

I'd seen it written all over their faces, though, anyone who didn't know about Arthur and I certainly had some sort of suspicion now. They eyed me with curiosity, surprise, disbelief, after no doubt seeing my mini-breakdown with Dutch and Hosea respectively. Whatever they thought, though, I couldn't much care about. I threw myself into finishing the food for everyone, never mind the fact I couldn't stomach anything myself.

-

Time passed on and I had been torn between confronting Dutch about why the hell he hadn't gone out there yet, and going out myself. Night fell, however, and Dutch encouraged us all to get some sleep, promising a solution by the morning. Of course, I slept like shit, every passing moment filling my head with worse and worse images of what could be happening to my sweetheart. I didn't want to think what I was thinking, there was an aspect of dread that had me worrying that I would be willing it into reality, and we'd never see Arthur alive again. It was this thought pattern going around in circles in my brain; trying not to think about it and focusing so much on not thinking about it until it was all I could think about!

I ended up sitting on Arthur's bed, staring off into space. I hoped that I wouldn't be noticed when Sean ambled past towards the edge of camp, ready to replace whoever was currently keeping guard. I got my wish, Sean didn't even look my way, but Charles – whom he was taking over from – did. He stopped in his tracks on his way to bed, looking right at me, and I felt warmth creep up my neck to my cheeks at being caught in Arthur's space, where I really had no business being. 

Charles slowly approached me, hesitant in his steps. 

"Evening," he greeted in that low, level tone of his. 

"Hi, Charles," I responded quietly. 

There was a lengthy pause.

"You okay?" He asked. 

I didn't want to answer. Him showing care and concern, even in the detached, placid way Charles had with words, had set a lump in my throat. I simply nodded my head in place of a verbal answer, however Charles did not continue walking. At least not in the direction of his own bed; instead he joined me on Arthur's. 

"If you'd like to talk, I'm a good listener. I'm not much of a conversationalist, and I can't promise I'll be any good at responding, but I'll definitely listen," he offered.

"Thank you, but I fear if I talk, I'll cry," I admitted. He nodded his head slowly.

"I understand. Though, I know we break a lot of laws, but crying isn't a crime."

"I guess I'm kinda mad at…" I began, trailing off just as fast. I snuck a look at Charles, deciding whether or not it was a good idea to be honest. I didn't think he'd go off spouting everything I said to everyone else, but still. 

"Dutch?" He asked after my pause, reading my thoughts perfectly. 

I gauged his expression before nodding. 

"Yeah, I understand," he sighed.

"Are you?"

"Not particularly," he murmured, "it's a tough situation and I can see things from his side. The O'Driscolls will be expecting us to retaliate, could end real bad for us if we play into their expectations. We don't know exactly what Colm's planning, but I bet Arthur wouldn't want us jeopardising the gang for his sake."

"Well, I guess that's a point," I shrugged my shoulders glumly.

"But, that doesn't mean I don't feel like crap just sitting here, doing nothing," he added, meeting my eyes sympathetically. "Arthur, he's… I have a lot of respect for him. He does a lot for us."

I held his gaze for a while. "Yeah, he does. I guess that's why it's so hard for me to stand by while Dutch tells everyone he'll get to it in the morning. If it was anyone else in Arthur's position, Arthur himself would be straight out there, probably."

"You're probably right," he agreed. 

"I keep thinking about going… but I have no idea where he'd be. And even if I did find him, I'd get myself killed, no doubt."

"You're probably right about that, too. Don't do anything reckless," he gave a hollow laugh and I sighed. 

"I just feel awful," I shook my head, then leaned my head in my hands. I felt Charles' hand pat my upper back.

"Arthur isn't invincible, I'm not going to sit here and promise you he's going to be alright–"

"Thanks," I laughed drily.

"–and chances are it wouldn't bring you any comfort, anyway," he continued logically, "but what I will say is; he's strong. He can handle himself. If anyone can take on the O'Driscolls, it's Arthur."

"In that case, let's hope he strolls in here any second now, carrying Colm's severed head or something," I mumbled monotonously, and I heard him laugh through his nose. 

"Let's hope," he agreed, "anyway, sleep."

"I can't."

Charles stood up and gave me a small smile. "Laying down and closing your eyes might help."

"I… I really like him, Charles," I said, the corners of my mouth turning down, trembling. Charles' expression was unchanging besides a slight softening in his eyes.

"I know."

"I'm worried." 

Charles let out a breath, shifting slightly and averting his eyes. "Me too," he admitted, "but there's not a lot we can do, not until Dutch says something."

I nodded, reluctantly accepting the situation for what it was; pretty hopeless.

"I won't keep you, get some sleep," I told him. 

"You too," he said, nodding at me before heading to bed with a small, parting smile.

I didn't get to sleep until the very first hints of daylight were painting the sky a lighter shade of blue, and of course, it wasn't long after that everyone was getting up and making noise. I must've scrounged an hour or two of sleep, and upon waking up I threw myself into chores. I tried not to think too hard about Dutch, but I heard passing conversation whenever I was near his tent. 

"What if we send some men out looking, so we at least know where the O'Driscolls are hiding? We might be able to get a better sense of the situation, have a fighting chance of figuring something out," I heard Hosea pleading. 

"Who're you gonna send out? I ain't risking my neck, it'd be no surprise to me if they had the entire state's lawmen sittin' there waiting for us, the greasy bastard said they'd offered him a price for Dutch," Micah responded, and I frowned to myself. 

"I was asking Dutch," came Hosea's placid retort. 

"No, Micah is right. We can't just barge in there, we can't play into his hands so easily," Dutch said. 

"It wouldn't be barging in there, it'd be assessing the situation. What else do you suppose? We just leave him there? Dutch…" Hosea sounded irritated and even pained, and I had to walk away. It felt as if there was only one man in that tent that truly cared about Arthur.

Before I knew it, the day was passing. Arthur had been missing for over twenty four hours, and I was suddenly feeling quite numb. I recognised the feeling enough that I had to put effort into not consciously admitting it, but in the back of my mind I had assumed the worst. I was preparing myself for never seeing him again, thinking that even if we did send someone out to find him, they'd be doing so purely to put him to rest. I was no stranger to death, to loss, and the cold calmness I felt in my stomach was all too familiar. I remembered it well from the night before my mother died, and my father soon after. I was detaching myself from the situation, hoping to soften the blow.

But then, when darkness fell once again, a solo set of hoof beats sounded on the edge of camp. My stomach dropped when my head swivelled and my eyes found Jet, and at first I couldn't see anyone on the back of him. I shot to my feet as the barest light from the stars and the camp caught something sliding from the saddle onto the ground with a thud and a groan. 

I was hit with intense nausea and took off towards Arthur, yelling at the top of my lungs for everyone's attention. Women around me gasped and called out to Arthur, hot on my heels as we approached. I stalled when I was a few steps away from him, spotting blood; a lot of it, and I felt light headed. I wasn't squeamish, blood didn't bother me, it was the fact that it was Arthur's that had my head spinning.

But he was alive!

I quickly pulled myself together and closed the gap between us, coming around to crouch by his side, scanning his body to work out where the blood was coming from. He didn't seem with it, struggling to stay conscious, eyes glazing as he blearily looked up at me. He croaked my name weakly. 

"It's okay Arthur, you're safe, you're back at camp," I told him and my voice sounded eerily void of emotion. 

I discovered the source of the bleeding, he had a gory wound on his shoulder, torn through his union suit – which was all he was wearing – looked to have been caused by a bullet. Close range. Dutch showed up by my side, freezing just as I had before bending down and wrapping an arm around him, trying to ease him up. 

"I told you, Dutch. It was a set up," Arthur slurred, sagging against Dutch's arm. 

"My boy…" Dutch began, at a loss for words, face stricken with worry. The look turned my stomach, souring me. "You- you're okay, son. Swanson!"

The reverend came running up, squeezing in before me. I backed up to give them room along with everyone else, watching helplessly as the men hoisted Arthur up and began near enough carrying him over to his tent.

"I got away… Colm was gonna get the law on you. All of us," Arthur told him, head hanging between his shoulders before he was set down on his bed, laid down gingerly, careful of his shoulder. 

"I bet he was," Dutch said through a clenched jaw. "Don't you worry, son. You're safe now. You're home."

Miss Grimshaw appeared at my side, putting a comforting hand on the small of my back. I felt useless, just standing there and watching but I had no clue what else I could do. I willed someone to bark an order at me so that I could be of some use but nobody did. Arthur was drenched in sweat, his union suit soiled with dirt and blood, hair dishevelled and clinging to his face and neck. It was a complete shock to my system to see him look so vulnerable and wounded. A cold sweat rolled down the center of my spine as I began to fear the worst, yet again.

"Miss Grimshaw, will you sit with him a while?" Dutch asked, never glancing my way. 

"Of course," she said, letting go of me and pulling up a seat by Arthur's bed, whispering words of comfort to him. Dutch walked past me wordlessly and I just continued to stare at Arthur, completely and utterly frozen and useless. 

I heard my name form on Arthur's dried, swollen lips, and I was moving forward without telling my legs to do so. I dropped to my knees next to him, next to Susan, and with a shivering hand I gently patted his, not wanting to touch him too much in case I jostled an injury. 

"I'm here, Arthur, I am so sorry, I wish I could do something for you. What can I do?" The words almost sounded like a plea. Arthur's face was covered in cuts and bruises, and with my free hand I gently brushed away a piece of his hair before it stuck to a cut on his cheekbone and dried there. 

"Some– some water," he requested and Susan rose up, planting a hand on my shoulder. 

"I'll fetch some. You stay with him, honey," she offered, and I gave her a grateful nod and took the seat she patted as she left.

"Oh, lord, Arthur, what have they done to you?" I trembled, feeling a sob building in my throat and swallowing it back. 

"'s fine, jus' a scratch," he murmured and I shook my head at his attitude. 

"You ain't still bleeding," I noted, "can I look?" 

"I sorted it, stopped the bleeding. You can look."

"What did you do to it? I'm gonna move your union suit, this thing dries up it'll be hell to pull away," I warned him, unbuttoning the top buttons of the suit before carefully peeling the fabric away from his wound. Getting a better look at what he was dealing with, he needn't have answered my question since it was evident from what I saw. My mouth went dry. 

"Cauterised it myself, an' dug the bullet out," he confirmed. 

"Oh god, Arthur…"

"Was that or bleed out."

"You're one brave man," I told him, stroking his hair slowly. 

Miss Grimshaw returned then, a cup of water in one hand, a bucket of the stuff in the other, a bottle tucked under her arm. She handed me the cup of water and I reached for the back of Arthur's head, helping him lift up just enough for me to give him a drink. He sipped down enough to quench his thirst, then Susan was quick to replace the cup in my hand with a bottle of whiskey. I stared at it for a moment. 

"Mr. Morgan, I'm afraid we're gonna have to clean and stitch up that wound," she said grimly. Arthur made a small sound, a cross between a grunt and a sob.

"I know," he muttered through gritted teeth, an unhappy sense of understanding in his tone. Hosea approached carrying a small tin.

"Give him a generous glug of that whiskey, dear, he'll need it," he said, and I immediately unscrewed the cap and offered it to him. Arthur drank eagerly, wincing at the burn.

Dutch helped me to rearrange a few things around Arthur's wagon before they got on with it, allowing time for the whiskey to work on his system. We moved the crates by his bed back, giving us a little more room surrounding it, and Dutch retrieved some extra canvas to hang up around to create a closed off space to give the man some privacy. He didn't say a word to me outside of the occasional instruction, and when we were done he slipped inside the tent to join Hosea, letting the flap of canvas fall closed in front of me. I stood there for a moment, staring at the stained, old canvas blankly. 

I heard them talking inside, Hosea asking where I was. 

"She's outside," came Dutch's blunt response, followed by Arthur's woozy repetition of my name. "This ain't nothing for a lady to watch, Arthur, you're in quite a state," Dutch added. 

"Do you want her here, Arthur?" Hosea asked, regardless. There was a long pause. 

"No… best not," Arthur finally murmured. 

"Alright then, are you ready, my boy?"

"No, but just get it done," Arthur grunted back. I stepped away, backwards, keeping my eyes on the glowing canvas, light wavering from the lantern inside, shadows cast by Hosea and Dutch as they moved into position around him. 

After a few moments of quiet, I heard Arthur hiss with agony, grunting and letting loose tight, wavering breaths. I did the cowardly thing and sped away across the camp, getting far enough away so that I could only just hear him as they worked on him. I sat myself down on my bed roll, leaning up against the wagon behind it, bringing my knees up to my chest and folding my arms over my legs, nestling my head there in a bid to block out the noise. He wasn't hollering all that much, but the canvas didn't do much to stop the sounds he was making from meeting my ears. I felt terrible for blocking it out, but every moan made my stomach squeeze, mouth filling with spit like I was going to puke. There was nothing I could do for him, and he'd said himself he didn't want me around to see him like this. 

"Hey sweetie, how're you doin'?" Abigail's concerned voice pulled me from my cocoon and I lifted my head to look at her. 

"I'm fine, ain't me with a bullet hole in me," I told her.

"Yeah, but…" she trailed off, then sat down beside me. "Uh, just so you know, people are talkin'."

"Let them talk," I shrugged, shaking my head. 

"Thought you might say that, I know you've got more pressing matters on your mind. I just thought you deserved to know," she admitted, and touched my arm briefly. "I never confirmed it, told 'em all to mind their business."

"Thanks. It's my fault, I've hardly been subtle," I sighed, looking towards the fire where the gang members were all sat, "they either think I'm obsessed with him like some creep, or they clocked the truth."

"It's probably the latter, Miss Grimshaw shooed all the other girls off, 'sides you."

I didn't respond, looking down at the ground and chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"He's gonna be okay, you know," Abigail tried to reassure me. 

"I sincerely hope so," I breathed. 

"Keep your chin up, Arthur's tough."

"I just can't believe he had to drag himself back here like that… dig the bullet out and cauterise it on his own, escape from those people," I muttered, shaking my head. "I get that the situation was difficult, but it seemed like Dutch wasn't prepared to do anything."

"You don't think he'd've just left him, do you?" She asked, and I wasn't sure if she was being incredulous, or asking seriously. I shrugged my shoulders. 

"I have no idea. I kept thinking of recruiting some help and going out looking myself, maybe if I had– if I'd've gone yesterday, he might not–"

"Stop it, I know where you're going with this. Ain't nothing you could've done, and you know it," Abigail scolded. "I know you've got feelings for him and you're worried, but don't start saying what if. These things happen."

"I know," I said glumly. 

"He's going to be fine, just watch," she reiterated and I nodded in acceptance. She was probably right. Arthur was home, he was safe, we'd all take care of him until he was fully recovered. 

I looked over at Arthur's tent when movement caught my eye to see Hosea and Dutch emerge; they stood there for a moment, passing a few words before parting ways. Dutch went back to his own tent, closing the flaps up behind him and shutting himself off with Molly. Hosea washed his hands in a bucket of water outside Arthur's tent before glancing around, eyes finally settling on me from across the camp; he beckoned me over. 

"Excuse me," I said quietly, rising to my feet, "and thanks, Abigail, for the reassurance."

She nodded at me, and I quickly made my way across camp, meeting with Hosea. He was wiping his hands on his pants and offered me a warm smile when I reached him. 

"You can go in there, now, I stitched him up and dressed his wounds. He should be okay as long as he gets a lot of rest and he steers clear of any infection. Just have to keep him still for a few days, let the body heal."

"Thank you, Hosea."

"Don't thank me, I've spent the last ten minutes making the poor man weep like a baby," he chuckled weakly. 

"It had to be done," I reassured him, patting his shoulder. "I'm sure he'll thank you for it in the end."

"I'm sure," he breathed, shaking his head wistfully before gesturing to the tent. "Go on in, he's… he's drunk, but he's been asking for you."

I took a breath before entering the tent, closing it up behind me again and taking in the sight of him. His union suit was unbuttoned, the top half pulled down and off of his arms, making way for the bandage wrapped under his arm and over his shoulder. His face glistened with sweat, his hair still clinging to him, and he looked tired. So run down and beaten up, my heart gave a sad squeeze and I sat down on the chair next to his bed. He finally looked at me then, as if he'd only just noticed my presence. 

"Princess," he hummed, flipping his wrist over where it lay on the bed, clapping his fingers against his palm twice as a prompt for me to hold it. I gave his hand a careful squeeze, then leaned down to press a kiss to the ends of his fingers where they curled over the back of my hand.

"How're you feeling?" 

"Like shit," he said bluntly, huffing a laugh. "Little better now I got a pretty face watching over me."

"You saying Hosea ain't pretty?" I joked, and Arthur laughed half-heartedly, exhaustion creeping into it.

"Whiskey helped with the pain just a touch but now the damn world's spinning," he slurred, "even more than it was before."

"You ain't gonna puke, are you?"

"I hope not," he complained, forehead pinching. Concern crept into my expression and I felt it in the way my mouth turned down. 

"Tell me if you are, alright? I'll try and… get you on your side," I said, looking down at his dressed wound. 

"Oh, I'm fine. Ain't you got a sweet bedside manner? You sound all caring," he snickered with far less energy than he probably intended and I smiled bitter-sweetly.

"Of course I care, you fool. You had me worried sick. Literally; thought I was the one about to lose my lunch earlier on, seein' you all beat up."

"They make me look that ugly?"

"Stop it, ain't what I meant."

"I know, angel face. If I can't have a sense of humour on my deathbed…" he tapered off and I scoffed. 

"You ain't on your deathbed," I frowned and he blinked up at me, a lopsided smile on his face. 

"You're so easy," he commented and I rolled my eyes at him. I had to admit, his attempts at humour brought me some comfort; every moment I spent with him, I could feel myself beginning to relax.

"And you're so sweaty, you want me to mop your forehead, freshen you up?" 

"Sure, strip me down and gimme a sponge bath if you want, like one'a those bath girls," he chuckled. I cocked a brow as I picked up the bucket of clean water Susan had left, soaking the washcloth in it and wringing out the excess. 

"What bath girls? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, you might have to elaborate," I said coyly. 

"Ahh, you know."

"I don't, never heard of such a thing."

I patted at his forehead with the cloth, wiping at the damp locks of hair there. I caught his eye and smirked, but he just stared at me, engrossed in something in my eyes. 

"God, you're a pretty girl. You know that?" He told me. 

"You're just gettin' out of telling me about these bath girls you been seeing," I mumbled, flushing. 

"I ain't seeing 'em. I only got eyes for you, princess."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I changed the trajectory of our conversation. "You know, you really had me worried."

"You ain't gotta worry 'bout me."

"That's what people were telling me. I might've made a scene, think the cat's out'a the bag about us."

"Ahh, who cares?" He grunted, shrugging and then hissing. I gasped and caressed his arm, grimacing.

"Well, if you don't, I don't," I replied. 

"Can I get a kiss?" He requested and I felt good inside, hearing him say it. 

"Of course," I whispered, sitting up and leaning over him, connecting our lips in a kiss that was far lighter and gentler than usual. I didn't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, and his lip was a little swollen and busted. He hummed quietly, smiling up at me when I pulled back.

"Your kisses are the sweetest I've had," he murmured. 

"The very sweetest?"

"Mhm," he nodded, his eyes falling closed. I planted another kiss on his cheek before I carried on mopping his face, taking some fresh, cool water and lightly passing it over his cheeks, his nose, the cuts and bruises to take away any dried blood. All the while I was ever so gentle, passing the cloth over him as soft as the beat of a butterfly wing until his face was clean.

"Get some sleep," I whispered, leaning over him and stroking my hand through his hair over and over.

"Don't– don't go away jus' yet," he pleaded tiredly.

"I won't, I'll be right here till someone kicks me out," I assured him, keeping my gaze focused on his relaxed face, fingers still combing through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

[neshabeingchildish]

Poly Wanna? Ch. 7

This is probably my messiest chapter YET. We get some action too, and some pain and even some violence, so TW for that. I didn’t put a warning on the ffnet post, but I think most of the readers read this here anyway and only my two muffins read on that end. They know who they are. At any rate, prepare to drama to the fullest reality TV style extent.

Lemme know if I need to take you off the tag. Idk who’s actually reading because I’ve only heard from a couple of people, so idk if y’all still interested.

@adorkable-blackgirl  @chenoahchantel @ciara-knightly @cactus-con @up-the-tube @riebellion  @itsyaapollochild@oof–musicals @lesbian-so-what @woahjusttakeiteasy-man @meadowstryingtobepretty @imma-sensitive-btch @okaygal21 @midernacht @divinereign4ever @xoxoemille

The Unspoken Stories

“You know how sometimes, people say things like ‘I had a feeling about this’ or ‘I simply just knew,” or anything else to indicate that they possessed some intuition about things? I often wonder where that comes from? Is it like Charlotte says - the universe, energy, spirit, etc or whatever, or is it something inside of you that just tells you, like a superpower? I don’t tend to have a lot of intuition about many things. I tend to try to assess what I see, but I’m usually battling with multiple questions about exactly what that is. I don’t have any intuition that I know of, so the feeling that I’ve been getting around Char and Jasp… I think it’s probably wishful thinking, but they’re warming up to me.”

Jasper decided that a good place to maybe talk out some of Charlotte’s tension, as it related to Henry and the other two girls was to have them air it out at the spa. Henry and Charlotte both thought that was a terrible idea, but he raised a good point, “Would it be better at a fancy restaurant, at dinner, where drinks might be thrown? Or at one of our homes, where possessions might be damaged? At least if things go poorly, everyone can go to a different room and get some stress relief treatment.” 

“Why are your expectations filled with violence?” Charlotte wondered, knowing that he probably was lowkey accusing her of possibly whipping somebody’s ass. 

She wasn’t violent, so much as she had been more likely to fight since her breakup with Henry. That was the first time she struck someone in anger, and it felt good at the moment, but definitely bad afterwards. Even if she hadn’t hurt her wrist, she hurt her pride. She let him make her so mad that she resorted to putting her hands on someone. She didn’t like that about herself. And, it made it easier for her to be willing to put her hands on others, since then. Boxing helped, though. Punching a bag instead of punching people, whether or not they deserved it, kept her from punching her dad right in the chin any time that she saw him.

“Because, I’ve had to pull my girlfriend backstage for fighting customers,” Jasper answered simply.

“Wasn’t a fight. He grabbed me and I defended myself.”

“You broke a glass over his head. I’ve DROPPED those glasses, numerous times. Do you know the level of not with the shits you have to be to break one of those on a human being?” Jasper wondered.

“He had a thick skull,” she said and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not violent. I’m defensive. There’s a difference. Whenever I punched at Henry, it was a reflex to him grabbing me when I was trying to leave and was already pissed. I’ve only ever hit men who made me feel threatened or violated my space. They might rule this world, but I’m not a part of any man’s inheritance.”

Charlotte had a WHOLE regimen planned for the day. She had checked on the prices and made a checklist of what she was having done and they had decided that their chat could be held in the steam room. She and Jasper rode together, of course. He had his hair pulled up into a tiny bun that she kept snapping photos of and K(her)SL. Along with the stubble on his face, he looked so “Daddy,” and she lived for it, but that bun was SENDING her. 

The owner of the spa (the one with the history with Henry that he never quite acknowledged) made sure to be there herself to make sure that the group was treated fairly. Charlotte hoped to see some juicy backlash, but Henry was already there when she and Jasper came in, sweet-talking her. There were flowers there and a handwritten card. She was guessing that he apologized… She stopped Jasper and asked, “Is that Henry’s handwriting?” in a quiet voice.

“Girl, no. Henry has a pensman.”

“That’s not a real word.”

“Penman?”

“Somebody writes letters for Henry?”

“Whenever he wants to suck up extra hard. The dyslexia, you know, makes letters from him more heartfelt?”

“But, if he didn’t WRITE it himself, how is it heartfelt?”

“She doesn’t know he didn’t write it.” Charlotte started to put him on blast, but they needed to have the big conversation and she could always clarify with homegirl, later. There was no way that she was gonna just let that woman be played out by this boy again. 

Henry smiled at Charlotte and Jasper as they approached. “Look who it is! My favorite people!” He cheered and went to hug them. “Got you some flowers,” he said and handed each of them a yellow rose. 

Jasper forced a smile, but looked sad. Charlotte definitely noticed and wondered, “What’s wrong?” She was on the alert and ready to defend him, if need be. He gave her a kiss on the temple and whispered that he’d rather not get into it. “So, whenever Henry and I were… involved, if he did something mean or hurt me, he’d always apologize with yellow roses. He said yellow roses were for apologies to your friend, and since I’m his best friend, he never wanted to let any kinda problems go unchecked or any kind of hurt he caused me to go without apology… When I went to the hospital, he didn’t even come to see me, but he sent me six dozen yellow roses and I honestly thought that I’d never get another from him. I had a lot of feelings when he handed me a single…”*Starts crying and gets up.*

The spa owner got a whole bouquet of various apology flowers, but since they were having a spa day, Henry felt like single yellow roses were the way to go for his company. He knew that Jasper would get it, if nobody else did. Jasper seemed pretty emotional about it. Henry didn’t have the intuition to know whether it was good or bad. Charlotte had the intuition to know that it was a mixture of both, but she didn’t know the context and that irritated her.

Chloe and Bianca showed up, holding hands and laughing together. Chloe had on some open toe shoes and Charlotte looked down and asked, “Getting something done with those feet today?”

Chloe smiled awkwardly and laughed a little, “Should I?”

“It’s up to you,” Charlotte said, then unintentionally, but intentionally looked right at the camera as she tried to stifle a smile. “My mother used to tell me that I had to remember to moisturize so that I wouldn’t be ashy. I didn’t realize that Chloe needed to moisturize too.” 

Bianca said, “Oh, we should TOTALLY get our feet done!”

“I saw a foot mask made especially for crack repairs,” Charlotte suggested. Henry tried really hard to not laugh, realizing that even though her voice was very sweet, that was most likely shade. Chloe’s feet were looking kinda worn.

“Charlotte must have some kind of foot fetish or something. She was REALLY centered on my feet! What people don’t know is that I’m an athlete. I’ve been on multiple reality show challenges and have even won some seasons. So, yes, my feet are a little less feminine than the girl who can’t decide if she’s a singer or a scientist. I’ve actually gotta get out there and grind.”

“Would you like a naked steam room?” The owner asked. Henry looked around at his company. Bianca and Chloe looked down for it. Jasper didn’t seem to care (or maybe he didn’t hear. He was staring at his rose). Whenever Henry made eye contact with Charlotte, she had a raised eyebrow DARING him to say yes.

“I think we’ll be good in one with clothes?” He said, still looking at Charlotte to see if her face changed. She relaxed a little. 

“Robe sizes needed?” 

Charlotte snuggled up to Jasper and wondered, “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He looked up at her and smiled. She was a happy part of life. He didn’t need to dwell on the dark parts. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am now, versus how it could have been, how it used to be.”

She nodded, “Well, you won’t be able to bring that into the steam room. You wanna put it in a locker and I can maybe preserve the petals for you when we get home?”

“No,” he said and tossed it into the trash. “I don’t need to hang on to any of that.”

She didn’t know what any of that meant, but she wrapped her arm around him from the side and leaned up to make him bend down for a kiss. “Jasper threw my rose away. I didn’t know if that meant that he didn’t accept my apology or if it meant that there was nothing to be forgiven, but it hurt to see. But, Charlotte, she kissed hers and she put it away safely. I know that she’s probably gonna save the petals, like she used to… or I hope. I don’t have intuition, like I said. I’m guessing, here.”

.

Charlotte kept her spa shoes on her feet, grateful to have them. Who knew what those roach stompers Chloe had might bring into the room with them? Jasper was sweating before they even got into the room. He and Charlotte sat next to each other, Bianca and Chloe sat across from them and Henry tried to figure out where he might be best seated… He decided across from Charlotte and Jasper, since they were what was really important to him and he wanted to look them in the eyes as they did… whatever would be done here today.

“Okay, so, thank you everybody for coming here today. I don’t want to ruin this place for you, so I sucked it up and apologized to the owner, even though most of that was all in her head. I just want everything out, like I told Jasper. I want to deal with it head on and show everyone that I have changed and I want to introduce you to who I am now. I want you to get to know me, today, as I am… But, I also understand that might not be possible without addressing the shit that I’ve done in the past, to everybody here, really. If anybody has any questions or comments, I am open for them.”

Charlotte looked at Jasper, “You wanna talk to him about something between the two of you?” Maybe, Jasper might open up now that they were having this time together. She knew that he wasn’t okay and all she wanted was for him to be better. This whole thing was more of Henry’s idea, she gathered, to curb his guilt, but if Jasper could benefit from it; she wanted that more than anything she wanted for herself. She must really love that dude, she realized.

Jasper cleared his throat and said, “I’m not that concerned with our past. It ended very miserably for me and I didn’t come here, today, or agree to the show to rehash any of that or relive it. But, I’ve been rehashing and reliving things, and you’ve seemed fine. If I want to know anything, it’s about right now. Right now, what is it that you want, Henry? Why are we all here?”

He said in a very low and soft voice, “I just want you two to love me again.” 

Jasper noticeably, immediately went soft and nodded his head. The answer was good enough for him. “What I think a lot of people don’t understand is that no matter WHAT happened between Henry and I, no matter how he hurt me or how I processed it; we were best friends for most of my life. My dad and his mom used to be super close and we were brought together before either of us were conscious about our surroundings.” *Tears up* “We were… soul mates. However you consider that to be. We were connected at the soul, like one person, for a huge portion of my life - my entire fucked up childhood, there was nobody that treated me better than Henry, and why wouldn’t I forgive him for mistakes that were made when we were young and he was already hurting? Nobody gets to control how I choose to respond with him reaching out and asking for my forgiveness. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe it’s foolish, but how do you hate a part of yourself forever? Even the less shiny parts, you have to figure out a way to live with, and Henry has been a super shiny part and a super dark part of ME. Not just my life, but a part of me. I’ve carried him in my heart since before I knew what love was. Of course I could love him again. I do love him. I never stopped. I never would stop.”

Charlotte wasn’t as moved in the same direction as Jasper, and to be honest, in hindsight, they probably should have had separate conversations, because seeing Jasper just forgive him in his heart, while he might not have actually said it out loud… that made her heart harder. He noticed the darkening of her features as she glared in Henry’s direction and took her hand and kissed it, trying to smooth her over. Because him loving Henry didn’t take anything away from him loving her. He loved both of them for different reasons, in different ways and he never wanted to be apart from her, no matter what kind of love he had for anyone else. “What did you do to him, Henry? What would make this big hearted, kind spirited person who has always taken mistreatment from loved ones with a grain of salt… What would make him turn against you? I do some things that I’m not proud of to Jasper every single day and he still loves me. We watched his parents not give even pinches of fucks about him all throughout school, and he still loved them. We saw him idolize our boss, who wasn’t really that fond of him for many years, and he loved him… So my suspicious self, my smart self, I have to always wonder what in the world that you did to somebody that I LOVE, with most of my heart to make him not love you?”

“I didn’t stop loving him,” Jasper injected. She gently pulled her hand away. “I only say that to say… The things that you’re saying right now, they’re very triggering and just stirring things up and it's not really like that, so please…”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and nodded at him, empathetically. He took a deep breath and leaned back. “I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay, Babe.”

“Please, don’t do that. I hurt you and I don’t want you to just brush it off, like it didn’t happen. Everyone needs to be held accountable for what they do.”

“Every time somebody hurts someone, it isn’t necessarily on purpose. I think that intent matters,” Jasper said. “I love you, too. I don’t care if you hurt me, because I know that wasn’t your intent.”

“But, you’re still hurt.”

“And you feel remorse for that. Don’t beat yourself up.” He hugged her. She was soft, but she was still wondering, “Seriously, what did he do to my man to have him in the bad way that I’ve heard he was in after they broke up?”

Charlotte heard one of the other two girls mumble something and her head snapped in their direction so fast that they both startled. “Did you have something to add? To help out? He didn’t say anything about wanting your love, so what’s the tea? Why are YOU TWO here? Oh, yeah, to discuss your part in all the bullshit.”

Bianca cleared her throat and said, “I was simply saying that you two are so good together that I don’t know why you even care about what Henry wants, at this point.”

“I thought that me and Henry were good together at some point too, but you didn’t right? And that’s fine, you’re entitled to feel how you feel and do what you do. You’re grown, you were grown at the time, and you weren’t involved with me, so I never came at you or confronted you or anything like that. But you, both of you, came over to our place, smiled in my face, played nice with me, and both of you weren’t about shit, behind my back.”

Bianca scoffed a chuckle and said, “Well, we were all pretty young when all of that happened. I had recently learned that you were the one who initially suggested that Henry ask me out, and Chloe felt some kind of way about it…”

Chloe threw in, “Henry and I hadn’t officially broken up, but you were pretty accepting of another girl being brought into his life, back then.”

“GIRL! You are really here, sitting here telling me that the reason you were disrupting my love life was because of something that happened when we were in school?” Charlotte cackled, but there was a terrifying anger in it. “BITCH. PLEASE.”

“Well, today, it’s like 6 or 7 years since that happened and you’re still mad. For me, at the time, it had been maybe about the same amount of time, I was younger, and I thought that Henry had just moved on because of distance, when really, he moved on because you pressured him to move on. I wasn’t even mad that I had lost Henry, but when I found out, I was hurt about it, so I wasn’t that concerned about your relationship, just as you hadn’t been concerned about mine. We’re ALL older and wiser now and I’ve moved on.”

“You’ve moved on because you didn’t have something important taken from you. You had the chance to go be on TV or be with Henry and like any kid would, you went with TV. Henry had a crush on Bianca and I, as a friend, supported that. When you left, in my head, that was that. What you did to me, we were grown and Henry and I were in a REAL relationship. And to this day, I’ve never come at you about it or anything. So, for me to be trying to console Jasper, who was SUPPOSED to be your friend and for you two to be having a little side conversation, ah kee keeing and shit… Man, fuck y’all. Y’all are so fake. To this day. You’re both some fakes and Jasper deserves better friends.” Charlotte was fuming.

Henry finally spoke up and said, “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been airing out things to Bianca, but when that started, you and I were having some issues and I couldn’t talk to Jasper or any of our mutual friends about it, and I didn’t really have a lot of alternatives.”

“So, fuck me?” Charlotte asked and laughed sarcastically.

“At the time, I was worried that talking to you about it wouldn’t be received properly. So, I started talkin’ to Bianca, and a few things came out - that weren’t necessarily secrets, but stuff we had never talked about. I was actually speaking pretty generally about it all when I told her that you were the one that encouraged me to ask her out, and she told me that she’d kissed Kid Danger when we were together and I told her that wasn’t important anymore and we just were chilling and laughing and connecting. I didn’t expect it to turn emotional. I didn’t expect her to talk to Chloe about what she’d learned. Whenever Chloe asked me about it, I very nonchalantly told her the truth and it was years before, so like you said, we were kids, I didn’t think anything of it. But, I didn’t know that she felt hurt to find that out. Sometimes, we hold on to things that happen, not specifically because of that event or the person involved, but because of other things in our makeup.”

“Okay, but if she was still feeling a way, she could have said, ‘Hey Charlotte, I know this was a long time ago, but it’s fresh to me, because I just found out that you openly supported my first boyfriend moving on while I was away for a little while, and I’m having trouble feeling okay about that.’ We could’ve discussed it. Not… started a group chat with the two of you to fish for information about our problems and then deliberately try to drag me.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Chloe said.

“I read the entire thread. It took me hours, because it was months of inappropriate things. You started it off with a little disparaging joke about how you three could be the Charlotte is the Blame Club. Bianca had told you about my “prude problems,” and you wanted to let Hen know that you two were there for him, if he needed to blow off any steam. “Emphasis on blow, lol.” 

Chloe was speechless. She didn’t even remember most of that chat, but apparently it had mattered to Charlotte. 

Bianca said, “I promise, it was completely innocent, in the beginning. We thought it was kinda funny that you two dated so long and you didn’t do certain things for him.”

“It's nobody’s business what hangups that I have, but since everybody’s business is out right now, I will say this, I wasn’t able to slut around when I was young. My mother tried to be supportive of me being sexually aware, but long story short, she was very sexually wholesome and I didn’t do anything with anybody until Henry. So, yes, it took me a while to get into the habit of things. This boy didn’t even wash his legs whenever we got together, so no, as a science minded person who understands how germs 

work and shit, I didn’t wanna be doing a lot of risky stuff with him. And whenever I WOULD do something, I had to be sure everything was clean and clear and ready. Henry was the one who didn’t feel like “going through all of that for a BJ.’ Okay. That was his choice, just like it was my choice to not get ball sweat or ball hair anywhere near my face and mouth area! Maybe you’re fine with musty nuts in yours. I wasn’t. And that was MY. BUSINESS. With MY. BOYFRIEND. But, it's not your fault that he told you that. It WAS your fault that you shared it with Chloe, because if he wanted to share our business, okay, but why did you feel like you could share it?”

“Because I didn’t give a damn, Charlotte!” Bianca snapped. “I’m sorry that early college years, I didn’t care about privacy or things like that. It sounded like a scandal and it was humorous to me. I didn’t know that it would become what it became, which, even right now, wasn’t anything very important to me. It was a part of my life as a young adult. I’m sorry that it affected you like it did. I truly am. You seem like you were very kind to Henry and I feel like what we did made you less kind. I’m sorry that I helped you become this bitter person…”

“BITCH…” *Camera shakes and moves around through a lot of shuffling and winds up on Charlotte, getting tackled by the security* “This bitch got me injured. Couldn’t even angrily speak my mind without being seen as a threat.”

Jasper was pulling on the guard, “Get the fuck off of her! She didn’t DO anything!” Charlotte was screaming, in pain and Henry was signaling to cut the camera. The camera didn’t stop. They might need the footage. Chloe and Bianca had rushed to the other side of the sauna and Henry and Jasper were both fussing with the guard. “You get the fuck out, You’re fired. Hell no! You don’t get to grab her like that, are you serious?” 

“What is happening?” the owner of the spa asked from the doorway.

The guard said, “She was about to attack, and that’s where I have to step in. It’s my job.”

“SHE STOOD UP AND WALKED TOWARDS HER!” Henry yelled, at the same time Jasper yelled, “SHE DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH HER!” They were both yelling about how Charlotte sometimes gets in your face, but she wasn’t violent and threatening to press charges and insisting that he left immediately before he got his ass kicked. They heard Charlotte groaning and went to check on her. 

“I’m pretty sure he bruised my ribs,” she said crying. “Whenever the guard tackled Charlotte, everything happened so fast that I froze for a moment. But, when I snapped to… This motherfucker, a big grown man, had slammed my girlfriend onto a hard tile floor, crushing her and pinning her down in the process, and… I have never been more pissed in my entire goddamned life.”

“Whenever the person I hired tackled Charlotte for essentially standing up while angry, I felt responsible for that. She was hurt. It wasn’t as serious as it could’ve been, but he’s got size on her and the situation - you see a tiny woman, in a bathrobe, in a steam room approaching another woman, you can easily step in front of her and maybe ask her to step back. Tackling her was so unnecessary and infuriating.”

“I was in so much pain. I hit my tailbone on that tile, and my elbow. I bumped my head when I reflexively tried to get away and he slammed me back down telling me to hold still. If they show that footage, you’ll probably see my entire puss. He had me straddled, restrained and bruised me up pretty bad, including how hard he pinned me down. I looked like somebody beat the hell out of me and I felt like it. Because I dared to walk in a white girl’s direction while Black and pissed.” *Sighs hard and shakes her head.

Charlotte was hurt enough that she just wanted medical attention and didn’t care how that happened. Henry and Jasper took her to the ER and once she was treated, Henry insisted that she stay at the brownstone to recover. It had more room, and was more luxurious and she accepted. She was going to be resting and taking meds. Jasper collected her stuff from home to bring over. “You wanna stay? I have much more room than I need, or even two people,” Henry said.

“No. I’ll let you two try to work some things out while she heals. Maybe it can be a double healing. If she asks me to come to stay, then I’ll take you up on the offer. I think she’s just trying to process the attack by herself and I’m glad that you’re providing a safe space for her to do that.”

Henry nodded. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“I can’t believe that we didn’t kill him,” Jasper said. “But, then I’d be in prison and she’d still be injured.”

“Yeah, I might pay him a visit in the suit later. Asshole.”

Jasper nodded. “Well… I’ll have my phone right by me and on the loudest setting if she needs me. Take care of my bae.”

“I’ll take care of her like she’s mine.”

“Not… That much,” Jasper said and partially smiled. 

“We didn’t really finish the conversation…”

“We did. Sorry it didn’t happen how you hoped, but… I think she at least feels a little more trusting now. She’s staying here, isn’t she? Just… work with what you’ve got. I’d love for the two of you to patch things up. I miss the three of us.” Jasper and Henry hugged and Jasper left. 

Henry peeked in on Charlotte. She was passed out, asleep and medicated. Jasper had set her things in certain places that Henry was sure were how she must’ve liked them. Jasper was really good at stuff like that. “Sweet dreams, Char,” he softly told her.

“Night,” she said, mostly in her sleep.

[kincringeemporium]

The Promised Party Cat Callout (Long Post!)

Here we go, y’all. I’m not gonna go all-out with the salt and vitriol typical of my longer posts, because... this isn’t about me being salty. This is about highlighting the issues with Mod Party Cat of the fictionkinfessions blog. 

Nor is it intended to bully or chase Party Cat off of Tumblr. Yes, this is a callout post; no, it’s not an invitation to attack the blog with hate or stalk their sideblogs. And no, it’s not just my personal opinion, which we will get to. 

This is intended to show Party Cat exactly what is wrong with how they’re running the blog and how they’re behaving. If they learn from it, good. If they don’t... then, they don’t. 

Last of all, we did gather opinions from both kin and non-kin in a survey. This isn’t meant to antagonize the entire kin community. In fact, the information from kin really helped to support this argument. Thank you to the kin people who did respond to the survey. 

(Btw, survey is still open: https://goo.gl/forms/lDoffQVVmELDo2EZ2 ) 

Obvious content warnings for dark shit apply. (Abuse, depression/suicide, etc.)

With that being said... let’s begin. 

The main reasons for the callout are these: 

Passive aggressiveness to or about other mods

Passive aggressiveness to anons/senders 

“Cutesy” or overly positive typing/behavior in serious situations 

Material that is generally improper for this kind of confession blog 

Hypocrisy

Majority of survey takers agreed with each other and with the points made in this callout

We’ll go one by one. 

Passive-aggressiveness to/about mods

(The bottom half of the mod page was linking to Party Cat’s other blogs and crediting some theme elements. Not relevant to callout.)

There isn’t a lot of information about the other mods or why they left; the general consensus on Maude is that they left because of school, but nothing about Kuroocrow. Now, why is this passive aggressive? 

There was no need to publicly say that there’d been a “catfight” (ha ha, funny) with Maude. We don’t know if Maude even gave Cat permission to say this. If not, it’s disrespectful. (Nothing wrong with saying they’ll be okay.)

What Cat is saying about Kuro is even more aggressive than that. “They refuse to do anything to help!” Okay. That could be true. There’s still no need to rant about it. 

“Ask them on my behalf what the fuck is going on with them!” Adding ‘on my behalf’ comes across as incredibly self-centered. And saying ‘what the fuck’ adds to the aggressiveness. Even if not intentional, that is how it looks, and it needs to be changed.  

All that needs to be said is something like this: “It’s just me, Party Cat! Maude is on hiatus, and Kuro is absent. If anyone knows what’s going on with them, please DM me!” There. That’s respectful and to the point. 

Passive-aggressiveness to Anons/Senders 

This section will be... long. 

So.. there’s a lot of overlap here with the ‘cutesy typing’ issue, but I’ll get to that later. I had to crop the screenshot to just this because there was so much that wasn’t 100% relevant to the callout. (Context for this post: Cat promo’d a kin server, an anon found some unsavory things happening in the server, anon warned Cat, and Cat said this.)

“...Seriously there’s like a few thousand people following this blog” is an unnecessarily rude way to say this. The point itself is legitimate and understandable. It really just need to be reworded so as not to come off as salty. 

Alright, I’d understand this one if there was anything in the blog description or about pages to warn people that the blog can get dark. Confessions about death, suicide, rape, incest, murder, violence, high emotional distress, etc are jarring to see when this blog tends to be lighthearted.  

While this anon does look a little bit defensive or offended, that’s so slight compared to the defensiveness of the response. Personally, I read the question as confused. (Y’all, who agrees with me? Who disagrees?)  

Cat... people don’t tend to expect very dark content on a blog like this, especially when there’s no warning, and they might not even bother to blacklist the tags you use because they don’t expect it. (That’s a guess. If I’m wrong, then smeone should explain it. ) There isn’t much of an answer here - you just answer their question with another question. 

So, okay, I agree with Cat saying that this ask is vague. And it’s not good to add “but” after something like ‘No disrespect...’ -- because “but” does negate whatever precedes it. 

Those are the only things in this screenshot that make sense. Now we’ll get to the things that are passive-aggressive. 

“Maybe it’s because...” Vague in itself. ‘Maybe’ gives you wiggle room to get out of this perfectly legitimate critique, instead of saying “Hey, I seem this way because...” 

“People keep asking me things without providing the barest amount of information...” People actually do provide information. Sometimes it isn’t enough. That doesn’t mean they aren’t trying, and they could be dropping the subject because of how you respond (nobody really wants to interact with someone being rude). 

“I just fill up the dead air with jokes!” Plenty of people do. And it’s fine... just not in this situation. When something serious comes up, you shouldn’t simply make a joke and move on. This reads like an excuse, and even a way to shame people. (”Oh... it was only a joke? Now I feel bad! :(” ) 

“And then people get more mad because... I don’t know!” This looks like you are blaming people for their feelings. People are allowed to feel mad. It’s never okay for them to send hate or be dicks -- which they’re not doing. 

“Nobody reads that page, lollerskates!!” This could easily be solved by a regular, repeated post linking to the FAQ. Or a regular, repeated post explaining why confessions sometimes aren’t answered. Or something like that. Just a bit more effort. 

Okay: “This blog is only for kin. We want to keep it within our community. If you have questions, check out this FAQ!” 

Not okay: “You have no business interacting! You don’t know anything!” 

That ‘sincerely’ isn’t very sincere at all. Most antikin will respect kin not wanting anti interaction on their blogs. Those that don’t are being dicks. And non-kin people who don’t have anything against kin are not at all likely to be hostile toward you, so being this hostile to them is unwarranted. 

It’s confusing that this community, in general, would like non-kin and antis to become educated about what kin is/means... then such an influential blog sends a message like this. Regardless of how people feel about Cat, she does have pretty decent influence and a huge following; it’s very easy for impressionable kids to pick up on this weird double standard. 

There’s nothing wrong with preferring to let someone else educate non-kin. There’s nothing wrong with pointing non-kin in a different direction. 

There’s a lot wrong with blatantly pushing them away like this. It’s rude. 

Inappropriate Cutesy/Overly Positive Typing 

Cat isn’t stupid and knows full well what this anon (same one from before) meant. There was no need whatsoever to make such a giant joke of the question. 

(Not to mention... why the hell would she tell everybody that she has so much medical debt and can’t afford electricity? I don’t know her situation so I can’t say it is/isn’t a joke too. It is something that could genuinely upset people, and some would even believe it. It’s a terrible thing to say.)

“:3c” Not harmful in itself. Just doesn’t belong in a serious ask. 

This anon meant a post in which they were venting about abuse... they were angry that a character had abused their kintype. Cat knew that, considering their abuse content/trigger warning tags. This response looks sugarcoated and mentions some random anecdote about a thing Cat does, which is not appropriate in a situation regarding child abuse. 

This was in response to something that was legitimately annoying Cat and breaking a blog rule. It does not look like an appropriate or effective way to address the issue - even looks immature. Did people take this seriously? 

Yes, this really is a tag on a venting ask about a real life abusive stepfather. A joke. In a venting ask... about an abusive home life. There is a tag saying ‘Your stepdad sucks’, which is good. A joke, though, is too far. 

(Apologies for a repeat screenshot - I saved this one for right now, for the sake of organization.) 

There is, as I’ve been saying, no need for this. It’s very strange to ‘roleplay’ and act cute when there’s possibly a toxic Discord server going around.  

When asked if any of Party Cat’s mannerisms were bothersome, one person said this: 

Others said these things: 

Inappropriate Material 

Shoutout to @queen-dragon-slut (damn Tumblr won’t link you) for getting me this screenshot. 

What the hell, Cat? This is serious -- this is even more serious than people sending confessions saying things like “Ugh, I hate this kintype!” or “Ugh! I hate that character!” This person actually endangered their own health and safety to force themselves into a ‘kin shift’. And it’s in no way Cat’s fault. 

However. 

To not even provide the anon with links to help blogs or any kind of resources, list some tags, and move on, shows an incredible lack of effort. Not only that, but I feel bad for this person. One note. That’s it. Nobody seemed to care that someone was suffering this badly, Cat included, which is, quite frankly, disgusting. 

Again, something this dark doesn’t belong on a casual confession blog (which is what your blog looks like it’s supposed to be). And again, it genuinely fucking worried me. Is this person okay? 

And it’s not even tagged. Not as ‘suicide’, not as ‘depression’, not as ‘suicidal ideation’, nothing. Which is what this is. This person feels like they’re not needed, like they’re pointless, which exactly what suicidal ideation does to you. 

You can’t DM an anon saying, “Hey, you alright?” You can, however, at the very least, link them to the help blog page. 

Mod Ryan, who is also part of the fictionkin community whether we like it or not, has seen: 

Confessions about incest 

Confessions about being abused otherwise 

Confessions about stalking and being stalked

People saying they liked to kill 

People saying they weren’t at all sorry for violent things their kintypes did

Asks saying characters or people should’ve killed themselves 

@queen-dragon-slut said about some of the suicide-ish confessions:  “ Tbh when somebody sends in a confession saying “I killed myself in my canon” it just sounds like they have some fantasies of wanting to kill themselves but cover it up by saying that their kin kill themselves and try to play it off. That’s not healthy.”

Hypocrisy: 

Alright. That looks reasonable -- but wait. 

The asks and other screenshots I just posted do strongly come off as suicide wishes, if not actual notes. 

Here’s what people had to say when asked if they’d seen Party Cat acting hypocritical. I did not even mention suicide asks or dark asks in the survey question: 

____  I wish I had time to say more but class starts in twenty minutes. When I’m back, I will add onto the callout with one more thing: that people feel Cat isn’t doing enough to help distressed anons.

Huge thank you to everyone who helped out with this! 

It’s something that people have wanted to say for quite a while, and something that should’ve been said a long time ago. 

Nobody should be demonizing Party Cat; there is a real person behind the screen. This should be a learning experience for her. Not an attack. 

-K 

[ua-list]

A NEW AND IMPROVED RP EXPERIENCE!

Hi guys! 

When I first made this group, I honestly wasn’t expecting more than a few people to join, hence the very laid back way of doing things so far. But now that we have more members than ever and more and more people are wanting to join, it’s time to face the facts.

We need to lay down a better system, and stricter rules, to make sure everyone’s happy!

So we are changing up the way we do things.

Starting now, we are now an APPLICATION BASED group!

What does this mean?

It means that instead of sending us asks asking to reserve a character and then making them, we now have an application that you will fill out in order to be considered for the group! There is an application for canon characters, and one for OC/AU characters!

In addition to that, we are making HEAVY additions to our rules. Check out the new rules below!

1. Members may not have more than three canon characters, to prevent hogging.

It’s just unfair to other people who want to play! 

2. Please be at least a little committed to your character.

We understand shit happens, and sometimes you just can’t take care of your blog anymore. That’s fine! But please don’t come to us the next day applying for another character, or saying that you changed your mind- it’s rude. And it’s so much work for the mods! Please try and stick with your character if you decide to pick one up! Love them as if they were your child ;_;

3. No more TRADING characters.

Guys, this isn’t a card game. Please don’t do this anymore. Please drop your character if you don’t want to play them anymore. It’s unfair for people who have been waiting a long time for that spot to open up! We want to give everyone a fair chance.

4. If you’re a new member, you must wait two weeks after joining before trying to apply for an additional character. If you’re an old member(over two weeks old)- it is one week AFTER MAKING THE LAST BLOG YOU MADE. 

Again, this is for fairness sake. No more joining and immediately trying to play 7 different characters only to drop them all the next day. It’s not cool, and unfair for people who want to join us. Nobody in general should be making more than one character a week. Yes, OCs/AU characters included.

5. In general, members should have no more than 6 blogs. AU/OC characters included.

Come on, guys. We really want to give everyone a chance. We let our members have multiple blogs because it’s fun to dip your toes into the water of different characters and we understand! But....there’s gotta be a cutoff point somewhere. This is to prevent so many people dropping blogs/the small commitment problem we’ve been having.

6. No pre-established relationship OCs.

(For example, Deku’s sister, Bakugou’s ex boyfriend, stuff like that.) It imposes on people and forces them to have a relationship with your character. That’s not fun for anybody.

7. If you are already in the group and a spot opens up for a character that you really want, you MUST go through the application process like everybody else.

It’s only fair. For a lot of minor characters it will be first come first served, but for bigger characters that are in high demand the mods will be looking over each application and choosing. 

8. PLEASE be mindful of what you post on your blogs. Trigger warn/content warn your blog as necessary.

If you are RPing a particularly dark character, or a character that’s pretty hard to avoid being NSFW with, please put a content warning on your blog to make sure readers are aware that you post that kind of stuff. Use tagging when necessary, and just be mindful of people who might stumble upon your blog!

9. Already established a rule about it but I’m reiterating- PLEASE credit the artists if you post art on your blog that isn’t yours.

If you can’t find a source, use reverse image search or try a website like saucenao. If you cant find the source after that, don’t post it!

10. PLEASE make sure you’re trying your best to be in character.

Yes, guys. We realize not everyone is at the same writing level and we are definitely keeping this in mind. We don’t really care about that. But if your blog is full of more crack/memey posts than actual in character conversations/RPing, we will talk to you. These are not crack accounts.

ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS WE ALREADY KNOW WE’RE PROBABLY GONNA GET!

Q: Why are you guys being so strict all of a sudden?

A: I personally, am not a strict person. I never have been. I have always been one to be pretty laid back. But recently we have run into multiple problems of people taking advantage of our system, people feeling like they’re being treated unfairly, people upset because they think others aren’t taking the group seriously, and many other problems. This stuff really isn’t personal- I promise. We just desperately needed a more firm set of rules. The laid back stuff was working while the group was still small, but with roughly 50 members in our group now, it just had to happen.

Q: I’m already in the group and I’m really used to doing things a certain way- do I really need to change the entire way I do things?

A: That depends. Have you been rping pretty in character? Following all our rules? Then you really don’t need to change much. We’re just asking you guys to stay more in character- we’re not asking you guys to change your entire way of rping or anything like that. 

Q: I need help rping/portraying my character. Do you guys have any resources that could help?

A: We do now! Thanks to Mod Dani’s help, we now have a resources page(along with an entirely new theme for our blog!) Check it out here!

Q: Now that applications are in use, what exactly should we use this blog for?

A: Well- exactly what our url entails. This is a masterlist, a resource guide, and general hub for our members. Our askbox should now be used for questions, complaints, and the like- instead of reserving characters.

I think???? I hit all the points I wanted to.

I know this giant rules list looks really intimidating but we’re really just trying to keep the peace and making sure everyone here has a good time. If you guys have any further questions, please reach out to us via askbox or dm. Godspeed, and PLUS ULTRA!

-CANON CHARACTER APPLICATION.

-OC/AU CHARACTER APPLICATION.