#that works better in dutch lol but you get the idea

[musette22]

LOOK I got mail from Romania (via Denmark and Sweden) today 🥰 My girl @rainbowsandcoconut is the fucking best ok? 💘💘💘 Love you forever, boo bear 💫🦩💖

[atlasalexanderwrites]

IMAGINE...being there with Arthur when he goes to Thomas Downes for his payment and interfering before things can go too far (preventing Arthur from catching TB)

WORD COUNT: 953

WARNING: none that I can think about, Arthur may be OOC some.

OTHER: reader is gender neutral; no gender specifics given to the reader so your choice!

A/N: the brain rot is real with RDR2 and with Arthur Morgan; I've been feeling icky for the last few days and the others in my house are all coming down with stuff so I needed a comfort character aka Mr. Morgan himself.

A/N2: I've been wanting to write an alternative to the scene where Arthur gets sick where...well...he DOESNT get sick. Originally, I attempted writing him as more low honor Arthur and then instead got this instead lol

A/N3: ENJOY!

“Arthur stop.”

“Arthur this has gone on long enough.”

“ARTHUR DAMMIT!”

Your weren't overly, physically strong by any means, but your partner wasn't in his right mind and was swinging blindly at the poor, frail man he had pinned to the ground. Arthur wasn't thinking clear enough that you were able to knock him to the ground and off of the man who immediately rolled to the side and started coughing, blood splattering all over the ground.

You held a hand to Arthur's chest, praying like hell he had the sense not to start swinging on you as well. “Mr. Downes, I am so sorry about this. I…it seems the heat has gotten to my partner. Is there somewhere that we can speak, calmly and peacefully?” The man had been upset the entire time you and Arthur had been there. Whatever reasons he had for borrowing from Strauss, you knew that you and Arthur didn't have even half of the story. And while you ran with the Van Der Linde gang, the last thing you enjoyed doing was swindling poor people who clearly were unable to repay the loan.

“Arthur, go clean your hands off. Now. And stay with the horses.” You demanded, openly glaring at him and silently warning him against arguing with you.

He grumbled and spat at the ground, but knew you well enough not to push his luck.

You waited for him to stomp off before turning back to the Downes family. 

They were watching you with hesitation and distrust, which you couldn't blame them at all for, but you could also see something hidden just beneath the surface. Something akin to hope.

You sat with them for over an hour, listening to their troubles and how they had ended up this way. They truly were just misfortunate souls who had landed on bad times that seemed to only get worse.

Mr. Downes was sick. Really sick.

It had affected his ability to work as he once had. Taking aloan from Strauss had felt like the only thing to do at the time. Even if the man knew it was a bad idea.

“Get well, please. You won't hear from myself or my associates again.” You promised, biting back the raw anger building in your stomach for Leopold Strauss. What the hell had that man been thinking loaning to these people?

He's a fraud. Just like the rest of us in the Van Der Linde gang. Liars, cheats, and no-goods.

How could you have expected anything but this?

“Feeling better?” You asked Arthur, coldly, as you met back up with him at the horses.

“Oh don't start with me. What the hell was that back there? I nearly had the payment.”

“You nearly guaranteed your own death, Morgan, don't get an attitude with me. That man is sick, his family is struggling, have some…some compassion. This isnt you, Arthur. You're not a thoughtless, careless asshole who beats up the helpless.”

“Oh what the hell do you know about me?”

You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up into your horse's saddle, “I know you’re better than this. I know you're not meant to be the next Dutch. And I know that all of this eats away at you at night; whether you want to admit it or not.”

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah well, you think you’re so smart, dontcha?”

“Smarter than you’re acting,” you grit your teeth and pulled at your horse’s reins to turn away from him, “Get your head out of your ass, Arthur, and stop trying to act so damn tough. The others might like you like this, but I don’t. And I can think of a few others who don’t either.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur was sitting atop his own horse now and rode up alongside you. He was still upset, but his tone was lower and more gruff than anything else, “I was handling things just fine back there.”

“Sure, Arthur.”

“I didn’t need you to step in.”

“I know that, Cowboy.”

“Will you stop answerin’ me like that?” A sigh slipped from your lips as Arthur’s hand suddenly reached across the small distance between the horses and wrapped around your wrist, keeping you from taking off and trying to force you to pay attention to him. “You’re still too soft on people, ya hear? He knew what he was getting into when he accepted Strauss’ loan.”

Meeting his gaze, you nodded and responded with, “Yes, he did, but people make mistakes, Arthur, and it shouldn’t be met with a stiff fist to the face. He’s ill, Strauss took advantage of that. Thomas Downes and so many more are simply trying to get by. Just as we are. It doesn’t matter now. The debt is settled, I’ll handle things with Strauss.”

It was easy enough to see the look of thought behind Arthur’s blue eyes, and you could tell he was thinking over everything that had happened and all you had said. Finally, he nodded stiffly and let go of your hand. “Alright then, Partner. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Really?” You questioned, brow raised.

Arthur shrugged, “Don’t sound so surprised. Don’t I always do as you say?” His tone had returned to a more teasing nature, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in amusement.

“No, you don’t. If you did, we wouldn’t always end up in these situations.”

Humming, Arthur rubbed at his chin and asked, “Would you have me any other way?”

A laugh escaped your mouth before you could stop it and this time when you rolled your eyes it was out of fondness instead of irritation as before. “No, Arthur Morgan, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

*

Hey! I hope you all enjoyed! If so please consider liking and reblogging! Thank you!

Please stay safe!

~ Atlex Writes

[twola]

I always hate like “requesting” something because it feels like a forceful “write this for me now!” kind of thing, but a I’ve always had this smutty idea in my head where Arthur is getting a little weaker from the TB, but is also pinning after some cute girl in camp. Some wooing occurs and things start getting steamy~ but it’s her first time or she’s not super experienced. I feel like HH!Arthur would try to be the gentleman to show her a sweet, gentle time, but wouldn’t have the stamina for missionary, so his partner would pick up where he leaves off by riding him like the work horse he is. I just thin the scenario would be perfect for like sexy words of encouragement (def NOT thinking of his mare voice lines *wink wink wink*) plus Arthur getting taken care of too instead of just doing the caring. I have like 0 writing skills tho lol so if you ever found yourself in need of smutty I soo I would feel HONORED for you to bring my nasty Arthur thoughts to life

Ooh, TB whumpy smut… I’m sensing a pattern here. My poor boah, how I love to torture him…

This was a good one! Still working on a few more. I love and thrive on feedback so drop me a line if you liked it.

Regret Me Not

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

Regrets seem to take up much of his headspace these days... But for one regret of his, Arthur takes action with a little bit of urging on your part.

Arthur wheezes, covering his mouth with the back of his palm, the wet, hacking noise that scrapes out of his throat as he sits on the boulder south of Beaver Hollow, out of earshot of the camp. 

Not that he needed people’s stares. He looks terrible enough that he gets looks of pity from the women, avoided by the men - and Dutch? Well, he is living in another reality.

Another cough rips through him, as he feels as if he were drowning within his own body. A small hand lands on his back. He looks up, rubbing his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

You stand over his shoulder, rubbing gently, concern alight in your eyes. You look down and dig into the pockets of your skirts.

“Here.” You say with a small smile, handing him a bottle of tonic.

He coughs again, butchering his thanks, as he takes the bottle from your hands, uncorking it quickly and downing the foul-tasting liquid quickly.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, hand still resting on his shoulder, slowly, gently rubbing circles into his upper back.

Arthur wants to lean wholly into your touch. He wants to wrap himself into you and let you card your fingers through his hair. He wants to rest. He wants to sleep.

He wants, he wants - but alas. None of that was possible.

“Like hell.” He grits out hoarsely, tossing the empty bottle to the dirt at his feet.

“I’m sorry, Arthur.” You say softly. Your other hand moves to his back as well, rubbing at his other shoulder.

“ ‘S alright.” He murmurs, not wanting to let on how good your hands feel on him.

A silence settles in, and you rub at his shoulders for a few moments more before drawing your hands away from him.

“Well… I just wanted to check on you. See how you’re doin’. I’ll see you later, Arthur.” You say, and he can hear the crunch of gravel under your boot as you turn on your heel. You begin to walk up the path back toward camp, as he turns and follows you with his gaze over his shoulder.

Arthur wants. In the embracing of his mortality, the facade of propriety and the painstakingly built walls around his heart crumble in the face of his own death.

He has watched you for months. Yearned for months, wanted and needed your attention, always too self-conscious to reach out and touch.

Sister Calderon’s words echo in his ears with each step you take away from him.

“Take a chance that love exists.”

“D-do you wanna get outta here?”

His voice is hoarse, almost weak sounding. Nothing of the man that he used to be.

You stop, turning around, a small smile creeping across your face. “God, get outta this hell hole? Absolutely. Anywhere is better than these hills.”

His heart hopes.

“I gotta go grab some mail from Van Horn. Ain't much better though…”

“It ain’t here, Mister Morgan. Let’s go.”

—

Van Horn is just as decrepit as the last time he was here. Falling apart and full of the dregs of society, left behind by the churning wheel of progress. He mirthfully counts himself as one of them, he supposes.

He tucks the letters he retrieved into his satchel, moseying slowly toward the back of the dock, where you stand with your elbows on the railing, gazing at the river’s lazy waters. Northward, toward the mountains and the river’s origins.

“Y’ready there, ma’am?”

You look back at him but don’t move. “Already? Ugh. Camp’s just so…”

Arthur sidles up next to you, placing his own elbows on the railing, grunting in agreement. You didn’t need to go any further, he knew where you were going with your comment.

The camp was… well, a gloom has settled upon it. Dutch acting irrational, angry. The loss of Hosea and Lenny. Running from Pinkertons.

And his own impending demise, of course.

“What’re you gonna do after?” Arthur asks quietly and notices the stuttering breath you take as your shoulders drop a little.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t have much else than this.”

Arthur hangs his head, taking in a deep breath. A breath that seems to barely fill his ailing lungs, and he coughs slightly under the rim of his hat.

“Y’got a good head on you. You’ll do fine.” He grits out, voice hoarse.

You remain silent, your eyes set on the water of the slow-flowing river. A boat chugs southbound, heading toward Saint Denis.

“I don’t know how I’ll fare being alone.” You softly murmur.

He sighs. “I’m sure you can stay with Abigail or Missus Adler. Or Charles. You got people to watch out for you.”

“But not you.”

A pang, a sharp pain shoots through his chest, above and beyond the near-constant constriction of his lungs.

“No. Not me.”

You look up at him, a sheen of wetness over your eyes. It pains him as he looks back.

A tear rolls down your face and it’s everything he is not to lean over and cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away.

“Sweetheart, you deserve-”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me what I deserve, Arthur Morgan.” You spit out, tears openly running down your cheeks.

Arthur sighs, looking back down at the water. It is murky, muddy, dirty right under the dock. Just like this damn town.

You push yourself into his surprised embrace, clutching at his shirt, and it takes him a moment to realize that this wasn’t a dream, and he winds his arms around you, pulling you against him.

“I wish you would stop hiding from me.” You whisper as he holds you to his chest, your cheek pressed against his breastbone, probably hearing the crackling failure of his lungs with each breath he takes.

He doesn’t know how to answer that. For years now, it’s been easier for him to keep that urn with the remains of his heart buried from all.

“I’m here… I’m here now.” He murmurs, resting his chin atop your head.

“I’ve been waitin’ for you, Arthur. Waitin’ and wishing for you to ask me to be yours.” You bury yourself in his embrace.

Fuck.

Arthur’s resolve cracks like a piece of porcelain.

“I’m just a fool. A fool for making you wait.”

You shudder against him, digging your fingers into his shirt, and your breath stutters as you try to stifle a sob. Pulling away, you look up at him, his bloodshot, sunken eyes, still the blue-green pools you would drown in.

You lean up on your toes, arms winding around his neck, but he turns his face away as you draw closer. 

“No. I ain’t gettin’ you sick too.”

You frown, glassy-eyed, about to draw your arms from him before he leans down and presses his lips to your cheek, again and again, moving up toward your ear.

“But…. I’ll give you whatever else it is you want.” He rumbles, arms wound tight around you, his body arcing over yours.

You shiver in his embrace, pulling your head back ever so slightly to look him in the eye.

“I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” You whisper, hands moving up and clutching at his collar.

He leans his forehead against yours. “If you want a dying, washed-up gunsling-”

You interrupt, pressing up on your toes and kissing his cheek, “I want you, Arthur Morgan. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

So long.

So long.

Goddamnit. He’s been looking at you, yearning for you, for months. Before Blackwater and ferries and being chased by Pinkertons. Before Dutch became erratic, before all of these complications. When he was chasing tumbleweeds across the wild and open west.

He gives a shuddering sigh, and draws you closer, pulling you to him and placing his lips on the long line of your neck. You whimper as he pulls a bit of your pale skin between his teeth, suckling on it, hoping to leave a mark.

You throw your arms completely around his shoulders and begin to pant in his ear. Whimpers turn to whines as one of his large hands moves down from your waist to clench roughly at your rear, drawing you against his pelvis and his rapidly hardening cock.

“A-Arthur - please -” You moan, rubbing yourself against him, and he regretfully draws his mouth away from your skin, pink-tinged and wet from his attentions.

As much as he’d love to turn you around, throw up your skirts, and press himself into you for the sake of time, he knows you deserve more than that.

“Lemme get a room.” He pants, letting go of you, moving to adjust himself in his trousers. “Go on upstairs.”

You pull at the collar of your blouse to hide the evidence of your indiscretion and quietly nod, moving past him and slowly climbing the rickety stairs to the second story of the decrepit building. 

He quickly pays for a room, and grabs the key from the clerk with a dismissive grunt, hurrying his way up the stairs to find you leaning against the second-story railing, waiting for him. 

Arthur jams the key into the door’s lock, pushing it open, and lumbering into the room, where he immediately sheds the repeater strapped to his back and places it on the worn table next to the door. His gunbelt follows as you step inside, closing and locking the door behind you. 

He places his hat atop the pile of guns on the table, looking back at you.

“Still want to do-”

You cut him off by closing the distance between you and throwing your arms around his waist.

He pulls you toward the bed, and places his hands on your waist, holding you still, as he sits on the bed, the worn frame creaking under his weight. He doesn’t spare it a second thought, eyes trained on you, and he gently pulls you to sit in his lap.

You cup his cheek gently, thumb tracing along his beard that he’s kept longer to hide the gauntness of his cheeks. His large hand lands on your thigh, squeezing it as he presses his face into the hollow of your neck.

You gasp as you feel his tongue on your skin, clutching at his shirt as you tilt your head back.

You shiver again as his hand creeps up under your skirt, finger gently rubbing against the seam of your bloomers, which dampens quickly under his ministrations.

“It's been a while,” He grunts out, unable to stop his hips from bucking up against your legs with you seated in his lap, the long line of him chasing your warmth.

“M-me too. Ain’t since-” you mewl into his ear as his fingers push your bloomers to the side and brush against the damp skin of your core, “some stable boy when I was sixteen- ahh - we - we didn’t know what we was doin’.” You gasp out as his pointer finger, thick and strong, dips inside your entrance, sheathing to the knuckle within your cunt.

He slides another finger inside you, groaning against your hair when he realizes how tight you are, clutching desperately at his digits, imagining how good you would feel surrounding his cock.

“I’ll be good to you,” He grits out, crooking his fingers within you.

“Oh-” You gasp, “I know, I know you will, Arthur.”

Arthur pulls you from his lap and lays you on the bed next to him, and immediately starts to shed his clothing, tossing it into piles on the floor as you join him, skirts and shirts thrown from the bed, a union suit and chemise - your bloomers land on the floor and he quickly climbs atop you, spreading your legs and fitting his hips in the cradle of yours.

In this old, dirty bed in this old, dirty room, he swears he has never seen something so beautiful as you sprawled out beneath him, the rise and fall of your breathing, the blush crawling down your cheeks to your neck, spreading out across your chest, to your pink nipples, pebbling as they are exposed to the cool air.

He leans down, balancing himself on his forearms, finding that spot on your neck again and nibbling at it, while one of his hands works its way to the space between you, grasping his hard cock and stroking it as he presses the swollen head against your core.

You mewl as he presses in, the head of his cock entering you, his hand moving from its base to frame your head again.

“God, you’re perfect.” He groans as he starts to press himself inside, inch by inch disappearing into your wet warmth, your panting high and fast in his ear as he suckles on your neck once again.

He thrusts, gently, and his hips press against yours as he’s buried himself to the hilt in your cunt. You mewl out a high whine, nails digging into his shoulder.

Arthur presses himself up slightly, looking down upon you. His fingers begin playing with the curling hairs at your temple, waiting for you to open your eyes, a sign that you’re used to his length and girth within you.

And when you do, he’s stricken. Your eyes flutter open and you inhale a breath with a sweet sigh. God, for once in his damn life, he’s doing something right.

Your arms wind around his neck as you press your lips to his cheek, he knows that you want to taste him, to mold your lips together and moan into each other’s mouths - he wants that too, but it’s a step too far. He’s already half afraid of spreading his sickness to you.

Arthur thrusts, gently still, but faster and harder than he had been, you squeal in delight, which spurs him into finding a rhythm, his body moving over yours.

He grunts, panting as he moves his hips, fucking into you and pressing you down into this old, uncomfortable mattress. He swears he’ll bring you to some nice hotel in Saint Denis and make love to you on a plush expensive mattress-

A constriction in his chest stops him mid-thrust.

He pants, wheezing, his hips slowing as he struggles to catch his breath. Christ, what a sorry excuse for a man he is - can’t even please a woman in the state he’s in.

You gently push on his shoulder, and he has the stamina, at least, to raise himself up and look upon you, cheeks blazing in shame.

“Here, maybe I should get on top?” You ask, your hand cupping his cheek while the other gently lays upon his chest.

He groans at the thought, his traitorous cock twitching as he’s buried in your cunt, causing you to gasp out. 

“Alrigh’,” Arthur grunts, and steadies his knees while he pulls his hands to you: one beneath your lower back, one below your shoulder blades. In a jumble of limbs and skin, he rolls over, somehow keeping himself sheathed in you until you’re splayed atop him, your small hips spread out over his.

He has to admit, this was a good idea you had, even before you think to move, what a sight he’s given. His cock fully enveloped in your hips, the dark thatch of hair between your thighs mixing with the curls at his base. Up, up the curves of your waist, he trails his hands, gently skimming your sweat-slicked skin. Your breasts, small yet perky, he’s enraptured by the way your nipples pebble as he rubs his thumbs over them, the sweet sigh that leaves your lips as your head falls back.

God almighty, you’re the sweetest thing alive.

Your hands find purchase on his chest, fingers pulsing, as you roll your hips once over him. His breath stutters, eyes widening as inches of him leave you, only to gently return moments later.

“G-good?” You ask, a self-conscious fear in your eyes.

His hands clamp on your waist and help to guide your movement.

“So good, you’re so good.” He rasps, the end of his lips curling up into a smile.

You smile back, rolling your hips again, taking him and out, following the pathway to your own pleasure and dragging him along for the ride. 

Your murmuring devolves into gasping moans as you continue to gyrate above him, squeezing your eyes shut, your fingers spread wide over his pectorals.

“That’s it. You’re alright, girl.” He urges, one hand moving from your hip to where you’re joined, his thumb parting your folds just above where he’s speared into you.

You moan aloud, giving no qualm to volume as he circles and presses against that little nub of pleasure.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you’re almost there.” He whispers as his hips jut upward into yours, he can see the far-off look in your eyes, the way your lips hang open, the shortness of your breath, and the slightly painful way your fingers are clenching into his chest. He can tell, your pulsing, squeezing, sweet little cunt is so close.

You ride him fast, like a horse at a gallop, and that blooming lava in his gut churns in a way that he knows he’s not far behind.

“A-Ar…” You stutter as your eyes close tightly.

“That’s it, that’s it, Darlin’.” He urges, his other hand tight on your hips, aiding your movement.

“Agh, oh god - Arthur.” You moan out, bottoming out completely as you throw your head back. He groans aloud as he feels your muscles constrict around his shaft, the sweet clutch of your cunt.

He thrusts his hips upward again and is rewarded with the sweetest mewl from your mouth, he cannot help but to whimper as he feels warm, wet slick start to seep from where you’re joined, his swollen and heavy balls covered in them.

You recover, gasping as your hands move to his chest, your hips grinding down on him slowly.

“I wanna-” you pant, catching your breath, “I wanna make you come.”

Arthur groans in response, hips bucking upward as his hands fly to your hips again, clenching them hard.

“Ain’t gonna- augh- ain’t gonna be hard to give you that.” He stutters out, knowing that the pull in his gut is getting stronger with each sweet movement you make.

“You’re so good -” You mewl, rolling your hips over him as he grunts, hands sure on your waist, fingers pulsing as his eyes flutter closed, his mouth hanging open as he approaches that precipice.

“You feel just like I’ve always dreamed.” You sigh, and all he can respond with is a thrust upward of his hips, to give you more, to give you himself, all that’s left of him.

He’s there, he’s there. His eyes shoot wide and he grunts, hands hard over your hips. “Get- you gotta, move.”

But you lean forward, not stopping the gentle roll of your body over his, and kiss his forehead.

“Come inside me.” You breathe, hands steady over his beating heart, “Give me all of you.”

Of all the stupid, childish things… but the resolve of a dying man, it is far less strong than before - weakening much like his ailing lungs.

“Please.” 

He does, he does.

He grunts needily as he pumps his release into you. Staying sheathed in your warmth, not jerking himself into cold air.

Arthur sits up immediately, burying his head into the side of your neck, and suckles gently at the skin there as your fingers start to play with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck.

He regrets, it’s all he has left, that again, he wasted his time, glancing shyly at you across the fire for all those months. All he can do is offer you a few fleeting moments of pleasure. He regrets, it’s all he has left, that he cannot taste your lips and the sweetness he knows lies beyond them.

“Darlin’-” he trails off into your skin, trying to compose himself.

I’m sorry- I’m sorry this is all that’s left of me - sorry I can’t give you nothin’ but -

You place your lips on his forehead gently before pulling back. You cup his cheeks in your hands and nod your head.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XI: Horseshoe Overlook vii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

summary: Arthur has to break Micah out of jail, leaving you to work a livestock job with John. Hell breaks loose in Valentine, and once again you're forced to leave or die.

a/n: I love this chapter, angst, fluff, a fight, shootouts!! AH. Also if you speak german, I'm so sorry if I butchered the translations. I tried my best. Also tumblr formatting is a pain in the ass, so im sorry for that too lol

warnings: violence, graphic depictions of violence

beta read by @margowritesthings

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

The red, cotton sheets are soft against your skin as you wake up, blinking away the fog of sleep. Sunlight shines in through the french doors, making the room almost too bright as your eyes adjust to the light. But, the most important thing that you notice is the absence of that familiar, solid, warmth beside you. Your head pops up from the pillow, squinting as you scan the room. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake ya.” Arthur mumbles, morning voice deep in his chest. Your eyes flicker up to him, buttoning the cuff buttons of his shirt. He glances down at you from his position by the dresser, smiling at your messy hair. The sheets are wrapped around you, leaving your shoulders and back bare, and he runs his eyes over the skin he’d spent all night kissing. 

“You were right.” He nods to you, and you sit up on the plush bed, looking down at yourself. 

“What?” You ask, looking down over your skin until you see exactly what he means.

“Left a mark or two, like you said.”

“Shit, Arthur.” You sigh, tossing the blankets off of you as you stand and move to the mirror. There's a few off-colored splotches on your neck and collarbone, love bites that Arthur has left you. You inspect them in the mirror, pulling your hair around to see if it will cover the marks. You hear Arthur’s boots against the floor as he walks up behind your bare form. 

“To remember me, just till I'm back.” Arthur chuckles, hands finding your waist as he stares at your reflection in the full length mirror. You frown, remembering that today Arthur has to break Micah out of jail. You’ve been enjoying the absence of his loud, foul mouth and stench that follows him like a bad shadow.

"Be careful. Don't do nothin' heroic for that bastard." You say, turning around in his arms to face him.

"For Micah? Course not." Arthur chuckles, leaning down to press a slow, bittersweet kiss to your lips. You know he can handle his own, but the idea of a jail spring in West Elizabeth unnerves you. You lean into him, lips locking for a moment before you pull away. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and then you slide them to his neckline to straighten the collar of his shirt. 

"Be careful, mister." You whisper to him, sighing as he pulls away from you. 

“Always am.” He says, and then he’s out the door, on his way to Strawberry for goddamn Micah. It gets under your skin that Dutch is sending him, but you know better than to openly question his decisions. 

After the door clicks shut, you take your time getting ready. You put the same clothes on from the previous day, and despite a few wrinkles, they’re good as new. You grab your satchel, gunbelt, and hat, putting yourself together before checking once more over the room and heading out. The stairs creak under your feet as you walk down into the check in area, finding that the familiar hotel clerk is waiting behind the desk. 

“Good mornin’ miss, I hope you’ll stay again!” He greets, and you chuckle. Just yesterday he was begging you not to beat anyone to death in his hotel, now he’s asking for you to come back. 

“Sure will!” You lie, knowing that you’ll be moving soon, hopefully. You’d like to come back, last night was definitely one of the best in your life, thanks to Arthur and the All Saints Hotel, a deceiving name, you think. 

It's warmer than usual when you open the door, and the sun shines down from between the clouds, casting the town in a mix of light and shadows. You stay on the sidewalk, smiling softly at the people you walk past on the way to the gunsmith’s. 

It’s nostalgic, going into the gunsmith’s shop. It reminds you of your father, and when you open the door, the smell of freshly polished oak and gun oil mix together, bringing back memories from years ago.

“Ah, your guns are ready, miss!” The smith greets when he hears the bell on the door knob jingle. You step towards the counter, waiting as he puts both pointer fingers in the air before dipping behind an open door into the backroom. 

“William did fine work with these, miss! I think you’ll be impressed. He’s damn quick too, they’re ready for ya.” The man yells from behind the wall, and you tap your fingers on the counter in anticipation. After a few moments, he steps around the corner. He places your carbine and revolver down on the counter carefully, and you nearly gasp in awe. 

Firstly, the sight of them together, clean, with improved sights, stocks, and barrels is something to admire. They look like a proper set, and you can’t wait to see what they’ll look like on your hip and shoulder. 

Your attention goes to your carbine first, and the dark leather stock wrap that beautifully contrasts the silver-colored gun. Stars, large and small, connected by thin dotted lines pattern your gun, engraved into the barrel.

“Wow.” You exhale, tracing your hand over the constellations. The gunsmith smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Then you flicker your eyes to your revolver, and your jaw nearly drops. The same constellations pattern the gun, but on the grip is a howling wolf, head thrown back in a howl amongst the stars. It’s perfect. You clear your throat, realizing you’ve been gawking and stuck in your head. 

“Sorry- it’s just that they’re so beautiful…” You say, blushing before reaching into your satchel, “How much do I owe you?” You ask, grabbing a wad of cash out. The gunsmith shakes his head, placing his hand up to stop you. 

“These have already been paid for, you’re good to go, miss.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, and the gunsmith speaks up to clarify. 

“The feller you came in with yesterday, he stopped by about…” He glances at the clock on the wall, “twenty minutes ago and paid in full.”

Your confused look falls into a huff, and you chew on your cheek, 

“Course he did.” You smile. You’ll get Arthur back for this. He does not need to spend any more money on you, let alone something this expensive. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.” The gunsmith says as you holster your revolver and swing your carbine strap over your shoulder. 

“Sure seems to be. Thank you, mister.” You say, turning back towards the door.

He waves as you exit the store, walking back down the street to grab Athena from the hitching post.

— — — —

It’s fairly quiet when you get back to camp, as most of the boys are out working. Charles is out hunting bison, and Javier found some abandoned house up north filled with hillbillies and gold. Arthur has gone to get Micah, and most of the other boys are out on odd jobs and the like. 

You hop down from Athena in search of a task to keep yourself busy. Your stomach was flipping the whole ride home, thinking about Micah coming back to camp. It’s been peaceful without him, and you know that as soon as he returns, he’ll break the little balance that the camp has been keeping. 

You walk to the campfire, finding a seat on a wolf pelt covered log. It’s plush under you, but nowhere near as soft as the hotel’s bed, and you blush, getting caught up in memories. Hosea sits opposite of you on a wooden folding chair. He’s grinding some herbs together with a mortar and pestle, making a health tonic for his cough, you’re sure.

You blink, startled back to the present as Jack runs past you, giggling loudly with two horseshoes in hand. With a smile, your eyes follow him to where Kieran has hammered a piece of rebar into the ground for the young boy to play horseshoes. You chuckle, eyes returning in front of you. Hosea looks up, eyeing you over quickly. 

“Where have you been, dear girl? I’ve missed you in camp.” Hosea says, leaning down to add some water to his mortar. 

“Valentine.” You answer, avoiding some of the details. Hosea smirks, eyes stuck on his hands as he works the herbs down.

“And Arthur?” Hosea asks, arching an eyebrow as he focuses. You can see where this is going, and you know Hosea won’t take to any lies, so you don’t even bother.

“He’s in Strawberry, left this morning to get Micah out of jail.” You explain to him. Hosea nods, and he hums as if questioning you. 

“What?” You huff, knowing that he has something to say, some odd cents to throw in. Hosea chuckles at your tone, shaking his head. 

“Nothing at all, just observing… Neither of you came back last night.” He points out with a knowing look. He’s not chastising or judging you, solely pointing out something he’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed, if anyone were to figure it out, it’d be Hosea.

“C’mon Hosea… leave it be.” You say, voice hushed as to not reach the ears of any lurking gang members. 

“Oh, I’m only pickin’. But you know I notice these things.” He says, and you nod. He always notices the little things. Your eyes flicker up to the older man, the softness in his eyes. In the time you’ve been with the gang, he’s treated you with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s treated you like a daughter in a way, and you know you can trust him with conversations like these ones. 

“It’s just… after the train, when I thought he was gone, it opened my eyes.” You admit to Hosea, head in your hands. He looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, a word on his lips. 

“The pair of you are a lot like Bessie and I.” Hosea smiles, and you glance up to him. 

“You love him.” Hosea states plainly, “It’s clear as day on your face, that worrying after him, that longing. You love him.”

“I– It’s only been-” You begin, but Hosea doesn’t let you stumble out of this one, instead, he speaks up again. 

“I'm happy for you two, really, I am. That boy hasn’t had someone takin’ care of him in many a year, I reckon. I reckon you haven’t either.” Hoea says, and you put your head in your hands. 

“Is it really all that obvious?” You ask. 

“To an old soul like me? Yes.” Hosea smiles, groaning as he stands up from his seat at the fire. He leaves his mortar and pestle on the ground, coming around the campfire to walk towards you. 

“My lips are sealed, dear girl. Now go on, John was looking for you. There’s work to be done if we’re gonna get out of here before the law catches our tails.” 

“Thanks, Hosea.” You offer as he pats your shoulder lightly.

He sits back down on his chair, taking in the camp’s state before watching you stand up. John is sharpening his knife at the table sometimes used for poker, and you walk towards him with your hands resting on your gun belt, hoping that this job will go better than your last two.

“You were lookin’  for me?” You ask, pulling one of the chairs out and sitting down across from John. 

“Yeah you and Arthur. Don’t sit down, we’re goin’ out.” John says, standing up as he sheathes his knife. You can hear the metallic clink of Jack’s horseshoes hitting their pole, alongside Swanson’s drunken rambling as you push the chair back in. 

“Arthur’s breakin’ Micah out of jail right now, do you think the two of us can handle it? Whatever it is that we’re doin’.” You say, sighing as you follow John towards the hitching posts. 

“Sure we can handle it, we’re only stealin’ sheep.” John chuckles, and you jog after him, confused. 

“Sheep? I don’t know about you, but I’m no rancher, John.” You huff, looking at your thoroughbred. She’s not bred to work livestock, and even if she was, you haven’t a clue on how to. 

“It can’t be that hard. Wait, shit- we need a rifle with good sights, do you have one?” John asks,  and you stop in your tracks, sighing. 

“No I don’t have one– Are you sure you have this job planned out right?” You question him, drawing your eyebrows together with some attitude.

“Yes I’m sure, now grab one from Arthur’s weapon’s box. He won’t mind.”

“He definitely will, but I’ll make sure he knows this was your idea.” You bite, stomping off towards Arthur’s wagon. Another job with John, another underprepared mission that’ll likely get someone hurt. 

You sigh, going to Arthur’s wagon. You kneel on the ground in front of his weapons box, opening the creaky, rusted lid. Your eyes flicker down to the box, and you sift through it, searching for his rifle. You find the rolling block rifle easily enough before meeting John back over by the horses. He’s already mounted up, waiting for you to get on Athena. 

—- —- —-- —

"Come on then, where are we getting these damn sheep?" You ask, mounting up. John canters out of Horseshoe as you follow. 

"Should be comin' through the Heartlands sometime in the hour, probably led by a couple of ranch hands. I reckon we get those ranch hands dealt with and we have the herd for ourselves." John explains, racing over the train tracks toward the rocky Heartlands. You ride on for a while, galloping past herds of bison and deer. 

"What happened with Arthur by the way? It's like he came back and then left again. I barely saw him before he ran off." John yells back to you, and you stumble for an answer. 

"Well, he hid out in Strawberry till the law got away and then made his way back to the bridge. I guess there were a lot of eyes on him when we came back home, so he went to Valentine." 

"I thought he was dead." John admits, "Did you go with him? To Valentine? I didn't see you in camp either…" John recalls. 

"I did." Is all you say, leaving the conversation at that as you canter up the path to the top of a cliff. It's a rocky trail, but eventually you make it to the top. You can look down over and see for miles in both directions. 

"They'll be comin' from Emerald Ranch." John explains, pulling a pair of binoculars out. He looks through them towards the east, waiting for some movement. After a few minutes of him watching, and you toying with your hands, he speaks up. 

"I see somethin', might be them." John whispers, crouching down. You follow suit, kneeling on the rocks as you pull Arthur's rolling block rifle from around your shoulder. You hold up the heavy gun, glancing through the sight. 

You see three men on horses, and about thirty head of sheep in between them. 

"That's them, alright." You whisper back, lowering the barrel of the gun. 

"What's the plan?" You ask, looking over to John as he lowers his binoculars. 

"Wait until they get close, then shoot at their feet. Close enough to scare 'em, but don't actually shoot anyone." 

"I'm not gonna shoot anyone." You bite, lifting the sight back up to your eye. You center the rifle against your shoulder, aiming it towards the herd. You zero in on a spot between the rancher’s, but you hesitate, looking back at John. 

“Won’t this scare the sheep away?” You ask. John waves you off, pointing back to the herd. 

“No– you're just overthinkin’ it. They’re gettin’ close now, shoot at ‘em.” John tells you, and you cock your head, going back to your sights. 

“If you say so…” You hum, and John rolls his eyes. 

You aim back at the ranchers’ feet, squeezing the trigger. The chamber fires, and the bullet lodges into the dirt between the three men. Their horses spook, rearing up and growing skittish, but they keep the herd tight together, not budging. 

“One more shot, make it closer this time.” John says, looking back through his binoculars. 

You aim again, closer this time. Your hands sweat from anxiety and the weight of the gun, and when your trembling fingers squeeze the trigger, you slip just a hair. The bullet lodges into one of the rancher’s shoulders, and you wince as he screams, falling from his horse. 

“Shit, Star!” John hisses, “I told you not to hit anyone!” 

“Clearly, that was an accident- shit.” You wince. Luckily he seems to be okay, save for the wound, and he clambers back up onto his horse before galloping off with the other two. 

“Oops.” You whisper.

John rolls his eyes, running towards the horses. With the gunshot, and the absence of the ranchers, the sheep have scattered, running in opposite directions and bleating loudly in fear. You follow, quickly running towards Athena to catch up to John. You jump onto Athena from behind, and she starts running before you’ve even scooched up into the saddle. 

“You get the east side, I’ll grab the west, get as many back as you can!” John hollers to you, running after the sheep that have run off towards the west. You run towards Emerald Ranch, gathering up as many as you can and pushing them in the direction of Valentine. You have no idea how to herd, but you try your best, shielding them from the wrong way, while encouraging them towards Valentine. It’s a mess, and you barely get them together before taking up the side of the herd opposite of John. 

“We got 'em all?” You holler over, and John shrugs.  

“I don't know, but we got enough.”He yells back. You trot forward, slapping your saddle every once in a while to encourage the sheep forward. It's a messy group, but it works as you push them on.

— — — —

"What in the hell are you two doin'?" A familiar voice calls out, and you glance up to meet Arthur's green eyes. He's trotting towards you on his scarred shire, eyes darting around at the herd of sheep you're barely keeping together. 

"Stealin' sheep!" John hollers over the noise as the animals run amongst themselves, bleating, “Star over here is shootin’ farmers.” John jokes, and you sigh. 

“I told you that was an accident, and I feel real bad for it, so leave it be.” You say. John chuckles, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at you, but you wave it off. 

Seeing the mess of a herd, Arthur flanks the sheep, leaving you pushing them from the back, and John on their other side. It forms a perfect chute to push them along, and you fall into a steady trot, pushing the sheep forward.

"Those guns turned out real fine!" Arthur yells back to you, and you nod, glancing down at your hip. 

"They did, thank you by the way. You didn't have to do that." You yell up, referring to him buying your guns. 

"Ah, I wanted to." Arthur says. John glances between the two of you with a confused look on his face, but keeps quiet other than an occasional cluck or curse at the sheep. 

"How'd it go with Micah?" You ask Arthur, and you see him shake his head. One of the sheep breaks away from the herd, and you canter to the side, cutting it off and forcing it back as Arthur speaks. 

"It was a goddamn disaster. He killed half the town lookin' for a pair of guns, killed a woman he knew, it was real bad." Arthur grits, distaste on his tongue as he spits the words out.

"He go back to camp?" John asks, spurring Old Boy forward, keeping the herd in tight formation as you trot around Citadel Rock. 

"No," Arthur shakes his head, scratching his chin, "He wants to make it up Dutch. He said bringin' home a take would get him forgiven, asked me if I had any leads or jobs." Arthur huffs. 

Your blood runs cold for a moment. You think of the debtor Arthur was supposed to go after yesterday, and you hope he didn't send Micah. 

"Where did you send him?" You ask, voice steady. Arthur doesn't respond, and the only noise is the pounding of hooves as your eyebrows pop up, waiting for an answer. 

"Where did you send him?" You bite, louder and more aggressively this time. John is lost, looking between the two of you. 

"I sent him after Downes." 

You huff, shocked, though you shouldn't be. Athena tosses her head up a few times, picking up on the fact that you're upset. 

"So it's okay to beat a man as long as your hands are clean?" You snap, "Sending goddamn Micah after him. Do you think that makes it okay–? You're not giving the beating, but you can pass it off on someone else and walk away with a clean conscience?" 

John whistles under his breath, keeping his eyes on the sheep and the trail ahead. Meanwhile, Arthur scoffs, as if you're being outrageous.

"I didn't go after Downes, but I can’t stop Micah from goin'." He defends, and you squint at his poor excuse, growing more upset and angry. It's one thing to take from people who deserve it, but the poor? It takes a different type of person to rob and beat the desperate. Only someone with no honor could do that, and looking at Arthur, you wonder where his head's at when it comes to morality. 

"Maybe not, but you told him to go!" You yell over the bleating sheep. They grow more antsy from you and Arthur's yelling, and everyone works harder to keep them in tight formation. 

"Strauss would have just sent one of the other boys anyway! Micah needed work and I gave him some. I'm sorry we don't always have the benefit of pickin' and choosin' what jobs we go on. We need money to get out of this damn place, you should know! You're itchin' to get out of here more than anyone- so no, I didn't question it!" Arthur yells, his face is hot with anger, and as much as your mind barks at you to scream back, you can't find it in your heart to yell at him. 

"Strauss's line of 'work' hurts more than just the debtor. I should know." You say, quieter than you were yelling just seconds ago. Arthur turns in his saddle, sees the tears in your eyes and realizes what a piece of shit he's being. He wonders if he's any different than the bastard who killed your father, and if you see him that way. 

"You ought to figure out who you wanna be, Arthur, a good man or a bad one, cause you can't be both… Good luck with the sheep." You bid goodbye, reining Athena away from the herd. 

"Star, wait." Arthur says as you kiss to Athena, cueing her into a canter past the sheep and the boys, towards Valentine. 

"Star!" Arthur yells after you, but his voice gets quieter as you keep running towards Valentine. A few tears drip down your cheeks, but you wipe them away quickly. You've had a lot of reminders of your family today, and Arthur sending Micah after a debtor sure didn't help. 

You don't even have to steer her, Athena rides you right into Valentine, straight to Keane's saloon, as if she knows you need it. When you pull alongside the hitching post, you spot a pearly white Arabian hitched across the road and you scowl. Great. 

Your need for a drink outgrows your annoyance with Dutch, and you slide down from Athena before walking up to the saloon door. With a hand on either door, you push them open.

Your eyes immediately land on Dutch, and sitting beside him is that little rat, Strauss. Your frown deepens, of course he's here. His beady eyes scan the room, and land on you as you walk forward. The scowl you send him is heated, and he immediately averts his eyes. 

"Star, we were looking for you. Where's John?" Dutch yells out, his booming voice tugging at the scowl on your lips. 

"With Arthur, working." You offer. 

"Come sit, have a drink with us, miss." Dutch smiles, inviting you over. You glance at the bar, then to the square table that they're sitting at. There's an expensive bottle of whiskey on the table, and you decide it's worth the pain of sitting by the bastards. You nod, walking towards their table before pulling a chair out and sitting down. 

Dutch waves the bartender over, calling him to bring you a glass. As soon as the crystal glass hits the table, you're pouring the golden liquid into it. Dutch chuckles, watching as you take a long swig.

"I just wanted to–" Strauss begins to speak, but you glare at him. 

"Shut the hell up." You snap at him, and immediately he goes quiet. 

Dutch on the other hand, laughs boisterously. His hand rests on his manspreading knee as he tips his chair back on its back legs. 

"Feisty thing, isn't she?" Dutch chuckles, and you squint at him dangerously. He places his hands in the air in surrender as you down the rest of your whiskey and pour yourself another one. 

"What job are Arthur and John running? I told them to meet me here…" Dutch asks, swirling his glass. 

"Stealin' sheep and sendin' them to auction. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." You say with a hint of distaste on your lips. You drink your glass of whiskey in one long swig before placing the glass back down gently. 

"I better be heading out, have some debtors to attend to." Strauss smiles, but neither you or Dutch smile back as the man stands up and leaves. 

"I never liked that man's line of work. It seems… worse, stealing from the poor like that." Dutch grumbles, shaking his head. You look over at him surprised. 

"Something we agree on." You huff. You drink the last of your whiskey, pouring another. You watch as Dutch gets lost in his head, and he smiles at some old memory. 

"You know, Arthur, Hosea and I used to steal from the rich and give to the poor… Our first bank robbery, we handed gold and cash out in the slums, gave it all except what we needed." Dutch says, and you lean back in your chair, seeing him in a new light. 

"Hosea thinks we've changed, but we're still chasin' that same dream– freedom from the confines of civilization, paradise in the west." He says, eyes far away as he imagines a future for the gang. You bring your glass up to your lips, thinking over his words. 

"Is that where we're headed then? West?" You ask, and Dutch nods deeply. 

"That's the plan." 

You drink your whiskey before placing your glass down, not knowing if it's your second or third. The old bottle is halfway gone though. 

"Here they come." Dutch smiles, and you turn to see Arthur and John trotting down the road, wearing matching scowls. You can see Arthur bickering with the younger outlaw, in a sour mood. 

"I'm gonna step out for a smoke." You tell Dutch, sliding your chair out as you stand. He tips his hat as you walk out the back door. 

You don't want to say anything you'll regret, so stepping out proves to be your safest option. You lean your back against the outer wall of the saloon, reaching into your satchel to grab your box of cigarettes. You pull one out, striking a match against your boot to light it. Pulling the match to the cigarette between your lips, you watch as it begins to burn, orange and black ashes falling from your smoke when you tap it. 

You inhale deeply, slipping your eyes shut as the tobacco works its way into your system. You feel a little better already, and you take a few steps forward, looking up at the cliffs above you. You watch on for a while, hearing Arthur and John bickering on the other side of the building, and then you hear a shuffle behind you. With your eyebrows pulled together, you start to turn. A rifle hits the back of your head, and a dull pain shoots through your head as you blackout, falling to the floor. 

 — — — —

Your eyes begin to flicker open, and you squint as the bright white daylight blinds you. Your head throbs, and the arms holding you up are gripping onto you too tightly. Muffled voices are yelling, but you can't make out what they're saying until you finally come to. 

"Get up, we're walkin." A man grits at you, and when your eyes adjust to the light, you're met with a Pinkerton Agent. Your eyes pop open widely, and you go to yell, but there's a gag wrapped tightly in your mouth, tied behind your head. 

You panic, thinking they're going to torture you for information. If they wanted to kill you they would have already. You try to grab for your holster, but your hands are tied behind your back, and your guns have been stripped from you. The Agent smirks as it all dawns on you, and he grabs your arm, pulling you with him. 

"Move." He bites, pushing you forward. You stumble ahead, breathing hotly through your gag, struggling as he pushes you into the street. Two big, armed men grab onto your arms, holding you tightly. The barrel of a rifle presses up against your temple as you tremble, assessing the situation. Keane's saloon is in front of you, and you can faintly see the silhouette of Arthur and Dutch drinking inside. When you glance to your side, you see that they have Strauss with you, but he is trembling and tears slip down his cheeks. You have no weapons, your hands are literally bound, your best option is to wait. 

A large man comes forward with a thick white beard. He's neatly dressed and neatly trimmed, clearly a man of money. He has a shining revolver in his hand, pointed up in the air. 

"Van der Linde!" The man screams, voice booming as he roars, pacing up and down the street in front of you. You glance around, seeing that Pinkerton Agents surround the building and the shops in the town. Your breathing quickens as you glance back to the window. 

"Get out here! Get out here now!" The man yells again, growing irritated and impatient. 

"You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!" He screams, and all his men ready their guns at the saloon door. Your heart pounds in your chest. You're outnumbered by a lot. 

"My name is Leviticus Cornwall, I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you!" Cornwall screams, and your blood runs cold at the name. The wagon, the train, you've been stealing from Cornwall all this time, of course he was bound to retaliate. You watch as the silhouettes behind the windows move, and you know they must be coming up with a plan. 

"Get out here! Before I kill them both!" Cornwall screams, and the man at your back shoves you down hard until your knees hit the mud. You yelp in pain from his shove, and the barrel of his rifle pushes hard against the back of your head for it. 

The saloon door opens, and slowly Dutch, Arthur and John file out with their hands raised. Dutch stands in the middle of the porch, John and Arthur flanking him. Arthur's eyes are glued to you, and his heart pounds as he worriedly scans over you. The sight of you on your knees with a gun to your head is surely burned into his memory. 

"Gentleman, this is a terrible case of mistaken identity…What is worse than admonishing a man for the sins of another?" Dutch begins, and you nervously watch as Arthur waits for an opportune moment. 

"Now, I don't know who this 'van der Linde' is, but surely we can negotiate–" 

Arthur unholsters his revolver and takes out the man at your back in a quick movement. All hell breaks loose, and Arthur finds cover as the three boys start shooting. Cornwall mounts up and runs off quickly, ducking like a coward as he gallops off. Strauss lands a bullet in the leg, and screams out in pain. You duck, running behind a wagon to seek cover as bullets whiz past your head. 

"I gotta go help Star!" Arthur yells, firing multiple times before darting across the street towards you. When he comes around the corner, he skids to his knees in the mud, holstering his gun. His hands pry the gag out of your mouth and you cough, taking a deep breath upon its release. 

He pulls out his knife, reaching behind you to free your hands as you gasp. 

"Y'alright?" Arthur yells over the bullets, and you nod. 

"I'm sorry-" he begins. 

"We'll talk later, we're getting shot at." You yell, running towards the corpse of the man who was holding you hostage. You take your guns off him, and immediately jump in to help. 

"There's more comin' in!" John yells firing into three men in quick succession. You glance at the road from the post office to see a group of men riding in on fine, bay Morgans. Your heart rate picks up as you and Arthur aim and fire, taking down all the men with your smoking carbines. 

"Dutch?! What are we doin' here?" Arthur yells out, jogging up the road towards the jail, you follow him, shooting down men that peak around the gunsmith's.

"We'll get Strauss in the wagon and push it. Arthur, shoot somethin! Star, get in the wagon with Strauss, you can use it as cover!" Dutch yells, and you run and jump into the wagon. You duck behind the wall of the wagon, peeking up enough to fire at the Pinkertons lining the street. Arthur cuts Strauss free, picks him up and tosses him in the horseless wagon. He cries out in pain, gripping his leg tightly.

"I think something is wrong, I believe I severed an artery or- or nicked a nerve–" Strauss begins. 

"Shut up before I put another bullet in you. You're fine." You yell. The wagon starts moving, and you glance back to see Dutch and John pushing it. 

Arthur is using the wagon as cover, running beside it, while shooting men down from the balconies. 

Bullets lodge into the wagon, and you gasp loudly as one hits the wood just centimeters from you. You turn around to see a man fall from the balcony behind you, dead on account of Arthur's smoking revolver. He looks over at you, terrified, until he realizes it missed you. 

You nod to him, letting him know you're fine, before taking your position back and firing into as many men as you can. They pop out from everywhere, with seemingly no end to their numbers. Pinkertons come from around the jail, the doctor's, the saloon, gunsmith, everywhere. They're on roofs, balconies and porches, shooting out of damn windows. Cornwall has hired a goddamn militia. 

Dutch and John are pushing the wagon down the main street, past the saloon as you near the end of the road. 

"There's not many left, just keep shooting!" Dutch yells out, straining as he pushes the wagon. You and Arthur continue firing, and you stop momentarily to reload. 

"I'm low on ammo!" You holler, ducking behind the wall of the wagon as you reload your gun. Once the bullets are loaded, you cock the gun to resume your shooting. When you pop up from your cover, bullets whiz past you. You take down one man from the roof of the stables, and another from the porch of Nils' shop. 

The Pinkertons begin to dwindle down, until Dutch and John push the wagon to the end of the main road, and there are no more. 

"Is everyone alive?!" Dutch hollers out, turning around to count everyone. 

"There could be more comin' we gotta go now." You say, swinging your carbine over your shoulder as you jump down from the wagon. You jog over towards Arthur, noticing a red stain on the arm of his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker to the blood, and you grab his bicep to get a better look at it.

"Just a graze, I'm fine." Arthur reassures you, hand squeezing your elbow lightly as you nod.

Dutch grabs a whining Strauss from the wagon, whistling as the horses come running down the street.

"John, take Strauss on your horse. I'll get Grimshaw to start packing up. You two, make sure they don't follow us." Dutch orders, setting Strauss up on the back of Old Boy. 

"Sure." Arthur answers. 

"We can't stay here after this." Dutch admits out loud, mounting up on The Count who rears and bucks lightly in fear.

"No, we can't." Arthur sighs. 

John mounts up onto Old Boy, and they all run off towards home. You stand next to Arthur in shock, glancing over the bodies that line the streets. 

"You're okay?" Arthur asks, coming towards you. You nod, eyes slipping closed. 

"This was a massacre, Arthur. He hired a militia." You whisper, "And he'll hire another one."

Arthur nods, hands on his gun belt. 

"We'll be okay, and we'll talk about earlier, let's just get home first. Cmon, no one's followin' us." Arthur says, whistling for your horses to come closer. You mount up on Athena, glancing once more over the town. The main street is littered with corpses, destroying the sweet little livestock town. You frown deeply, pushing Athena towards home. 

Upon your arrival, tents are already being torn down and stuffed into wagons. Your tent is gone, and Arthur's wagon is being taken apart and filled with items. You frown at the sight of your home being destroyed, again. 

Arthur jumps down from Balius and walks straight up to Dutch's tent with you in toe. Hosea is in the tent, bickering and finger-pointing at Dutch while you wait outside. 

"This is lying low? We've turned into a bunch of killers, Dutch, I mean it! We ain't even got the delusion of being nothing but a bunch of killers!" Hosea snaps, pointing his finger in Dutch's face. Dutch sits on his cot, calm as ever as he takes in Hosea's words. 

"We are just trying to survive, Hosea. We don't have a choice. This will end soon." Dutch reassures. 

"Damn right, it will!" Hosea yells before backing away and stomping out of the tent. 

"Constipated as usual…" Dutch hums, shaking his head as Arthur steps inside. 

"Where are we headed, Dutch?" Arthur asks, voice quiet, worried. 

"Micah told me of a place, a while back before we came down here. Dewberry Creek." 

Your eyebrows draw together as you look at Dutch, shaking your head. 

"I've been there with John, it ain't gonna work. It's open and it'll be mud when it rains." You explain, thinking back to when you stole the wagon with John. 

"I trust Micah. It will work. Arthur, take Charles and scout it out." Dutch growls at you. You glare at him, stepping forward. 

"It ain't gonna w-"

"I said you and Charles go take a look. Clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in there looking so conspicuous." Dutch interrupts you as you fume. 

"And how are we gonna do that?" Arthur sighs. Dutch shakes his head. 

"I don't know, start dancin'?" 

Arthur looks at Dutch with as much anger as you. He's being sent on errands, when you know it's a waste of time. 

"What am I now, just your goddamn errand boy?" Arthur hisses, stepping out of the tent with you. His hand is on the small of your back as he urges you outside, away from Dutch and the mess he's creating. 

"You're not my errand boy, you are my son. You worry because I worry, we are just the same, you and I." Dutch says, and Arthur walks away from him with a scowl. 

"I swear, he's turnin' into a goddamn lunatic, Star." Arthur whispers hotly, stomping towards Charles' bedroll.

"I know it." You sigh, following Arthur. When you glance over your shoulder you see Abigail sitting on the ground with Jack, tears streaming down his cheeks as Karen and Tilly pack up his bags. You frown, watching on as they take his books and file them away in a chest. 

"But he'll pull through for us. He always does." Arthur adds, and you nod, not saying anything. You don't have to tell Arthur that you disagree. 

Charles is rolling up his bedroll, and adding it to a bag of his things when you both come upon him. 

"Charles, ride with us?" Arthur asks, and Charles stands up, eyebrows pulled together. 

"Of course. Where to?" He asks, grabbing his shotgun from a crate before following you towards the horses. 

"Some dried up river that ain't gonna work as a camp." You bite, aggression not pointed at either of the two boys. 

"She's talkin' about Dewberry Creek." Arthur corrects you with a smirk. 

It's a longer ride, and by the end you're exhausted. It's been a shit day so far, and this part is no exception. Your body aches from rocking in the saddle, and from the hyperextension of your hands being tied behind your back, not to mention your throbbing head from the butt of a rifle earlier.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks, seeing you stretch your shoulders and crack your neck for the third time in the past ten minutes. 

"Yeah, just hurtin' a little." You admit. Dewberry Creek is just over the hill, and you all lope over it. 

"They hurt you bad?" Arthur asks, suddenly worried. He didn't have time to check over you back after the shootout, he was too worried about getting you out of there. And then immediately getting swooped into a job, he never asked. 

"I'm okay." You admit, reaching over to squeeze Arthur’s hand. He nods, squeezing yours back lightly before you let go and continue riding. 

Charles curiously eyes the motion, making his own assumptions, but he keeps quiet. 

"Creek’s just up here." You call out, pushing Athena a little faster down the hill. Arthur and Charles follow as you come upon the dried up creek bed You slow Athena into a sliding stop, letting the boys take in the spot for what it's worth.

The creek bed is muddy. There are sinking wet spots that make it unlivable, not to mention the fact that it's in the middle of the plains, completely in the open. There are a few tents pitched in the creekbed, a hundred or more feet down. 

“This is worse than I thought… Why would Micah even consider this?” Charles asks. Arthur pushes Balius forward into the creek bed, seemingly eyeing the same tents as you. 

“Are there people living here now?” Arthur asks, riding forward. You follow him, squinting to look for any motion down by the tents. You see none, but ride forward anyway. 

“It looks abandoned.” You say, trotting past Arthur. You scan the creekbed, stopping when you see an unmoving lump of fabric in the distance. As you get closer, you wince, realizing it’s a corpse, face down in the mud. It appears that he was shot in the back while running away. You look back up at the tents, a feeling of unease sweeping over you. 

“I found a body!” You yell back to the boys, and both of them ride up to you, “There’s a camp ahead too.” You add, getting down from Athena. You move towards the body, feeling sorry for the feller as you look him over.

“Stay alert. Any issues, shoot first n’ debate second.” Arthur says, and you huff a humorless laugh. 

“What is with you today?” You hiss, and Charles nods his head, also picking up on Arthur’s sour mood and aggression. 

“I'm not gonna shoot for the sake of it.” Charles bites back, following Arthur towards the camp.

“Survivals for the sake of it, quit talkin.” Arthur snaps, and you roll your eyes, glancing at Charles. 

You come upon the camp, hand resting near your holster as you check it out. You walk through the entrance of a white, A frame tent, finding it to be left untouched. Cans of food sit out, blankets and books are left behind. It's as if whoever was here just got up and left. Arthur and Charles search the tents up ahead, finding the same thing. 

“Looks empty.” Arthur calls out, and you jog up to where he’s at. The only thing left to search is a large wagon, and you set your eyes on it as you walk past the men. 

“Let's make sure.” You say, walking towards the wagon. You peek in the back, finding an opened, empty chest. When you step down, you hear the cock of a shotgun, and you pause, putting your hands in the air. 

Arthur and Charles notice this, and they step forward slowly, pulling a few crates away from under the wagon. You’re taken aback at the sight of a woman and two children, cowering, under the wagon. The mother holds up a shotgun, shielding her son and daughter behind her.

“You can come out of there.” Charles says, holstering his sawed off shotgun as he backs away with his hands raised. You and Arthur follow, surrendering as you give them space to step out. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, shocked at the sight of them. They look terrified, and Charles gestures for them to come out from underneath the wagon. 

“We don’t mean you no harm.” Arthur whispers. 

The woman comes out, with her gun raised up at you three, alternating between you all. Her children follow her, and she keeps them behind her skirt as she stands across from you three. 

“The lady said, are you okay?” Arthur says, gesturing to you. The woman shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand. 

“Sprechen sie Deutsch? G-German?” She asks, translating her words as best as she can. Arthur sighs, tossing his hands up into the air. 

“No.” He says curtly. Much to your surprise, he attempts to shoo them off with his hands as he yells, “Now go on, get outta here! We need the land, go!” He yells, and you step in front of him, stopping him. 

“You’re gonna leave these people to themselves after this?” You ask, gesturing to the body and abandoned camp. Arthur has a grumpy look on his face, a threatening demeanor that works on just about everyone but you. 

“We need this land, Star– we got our own prob–” Arthur begins, but the woman’s young daughter jumps out from behind her, tears in her eyes as she yells in the best English she can. 

“They took our father!!” She yells, crying. Her accent is heavy, but you understand her well enough. Charles steps forward, and the mother raises her gun up again. 

“Who did?” Charles asks, and Arthur shakes his head in disapproval. 

“Men, last night.” The girl adds, watching the three of you. 

“Where?” You ask, but Arthur grabs your arm, pulling you back to look at him. Angrily, you pull your arm back. 

“Ain’t no business of ours. I don’t even speak their language!” Arthur hisses. Charles steps forward, a mean look on his face. 

“You ain't as tough and dense as all that. Come on, Star.” Charles says, and you sigh before following him. 

“Arthur, stay or don’t, but I’m goin.” You say, whistling for Athena. You mount up quickly, following the direction that the young girl had pointed to. 

“We’ll see if we can pick up a trail, c’mon.” Charles says, and Arthur sighs before mounting onto Balius.

Charles starts out the mouth of the trail, picking up a canter. Before he gets to the main road, he points to the ground. 

“A trail, right here.” Charles says, cueing Taima faster. 

“I don't see nothin’.” Arthur pouts, looking at the dirt and seeing… nothing but dirt. You point to the hoof prints on the ground, and the trail that they make along the main road. 

“Hoof prints this way.” You explain, racing faster along the road. The trail dips into the woods, and you follow Charles in a single file line, racing through the trees. 

“So what's goin’ on with you?” Charles asks, glancing back at Arthur. He keeps a steady pace with Taima, dodging turkeys and trees as he follows the tracks, 

“Whatchu mean?” Arthur asks.

“You were just gonna send that woman and her children on their way?” Charles asks. Arthur slings his carbine off of his shoulder, sliding it down the holster on Balius’s saddle. 

“We’re wanted men. We got the Pinkertons breathing down our necks. Star was nearly executed in front of us today, Charles...  We should be moving camp, not runnin’ off on some wild goose chase.” Arthur explains, and you pick up on the reason for his upset. 

“That's why you’re upset. Arthur, I'm okay.” You offer, but it doesn’t ease his worry. He won’t feel better until you’re far away from this mess. 

“Maybe now, but that Pinkerton was seconds away from putting a bullet in you, and don’t think I didn't see that goddamn mark on your head.” Arthur hisses, and you instinctively run your hand up to the back of your head where a welt resides from the butt of that bastard’s carbine. It grows quiet as Charles breaches the woods, coming upon Flat Iron Lake. 

“This way.” He says quietly, cantering along the shore. You follow, and after a while of running alongside horse tracks, you come to a grassy opening. It must be the right place, as crates and a few bedrolls lie around scattered. It's a beautiful spot, and the golden evening light shines brilliantly across the lake, cascading around you. 

“This is a better camp spot than back there.” You say, looking over the large, old oak tree in the center of the camp. The lake laps at the shore of the little peninsula, calmingly. 

“This looks like our feller.” Arthur hollers from ahead of you, and your head snaps in his direction to where a man is hogtied on the grass, yelling through a gag. Arthur jumps down from Balius, jogging over to the man. He slips the man’s gag off, and immediately the German man begins to scream. 

“Vorsichtig!! Vorsichtig!!” 

<careful! careful!> The man screams, and bullets begin to whiz around past you.

“Take cover!” Arthur yells, and you leap down from Athena, sliding behind a crate as the horses run off. Men come from behind the trees, shooting at you. You fill your carbine, popping up from the cover to fire into three men’s chests. There aren’t many of them, and you take out as many as you can. 

“Watch! They’re comin’ in on horses!” Charles yells from behind the tree, and you glance towards the trail leading in where four men on horses ride in. 

You take down one, and Arthur and Charles take down the rest. 

“Are there any more of them?” You pant, lowering your constellation-patterned weapon. 

“No.” Arthur mumbles, holstering his revolver. 

You look behind you, past Arthur to the hogtied man. He's writhing on the ground, clearly in pain from being tied up so long. You jog over to him quickly, unsheathing your knife before cutting his ties free. Arthur and Charles whistle for your horses, walking towards you as the man clambers up, rubbing at his raw wrists. 

"Danke! Danke!!" 

<thank you! thank you!> The man smiles, turning around in both ways as if he's lost, searching for a familiar way out. 

"We'll take you back to your family, mister." You say slowly, wondering if he understands any English at all. 

"Star–" Arthur begins to protest, but you're not having any of it. You won't let him protect you if it leads to others getting hurt. 

"Charles, go back to Horseshoe and bring the caravan here. It's a good spot." You address Charles before turning to the man, "We will take you back to your family." You say, waving him towards your horse. He follows you, looking mighty confused as you mount up into Athena. But when you extend your hand to him, he takes it, hopping up into the mare's croup. 

"Was tun wir jetzt"

 <what are we doing now?> The man says, and not understanding, you keep on riding. 

"Also komme ich dann mit?" 

<so I'm coming with you then?> He asks again, and you sigh. 

"I'm sorry, I have no clue what you're sayin', mister." You sigh, following the trail back towards Dewberry Creek. 

"Wo bringst du hich min?" 

<where are you taking me?>  He asks again. You don't respond, but Arthur does. 

"What in the hell did you do to those fellers back there?" Arthur asks, following beside you on his shire. 

"Was hast du gesagt."

<what did you say?> 

Arthur sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he rides along.

"Those men back there. Why- did- they- take- you?" Arthur asks, pronouncing each word slower, as if it'll help the man understand. 

"Geld. Money." The German husband says. You glance over your shoulder at him, wondering what trouble he's in over money with fellers like those. He's well dressed, and his family was too. You doubt he's a debtor. 

"Meine Familie hat ein Goldminen Geschäft. Sie wollten ein Lösegeld schicken." 

<my family owns a gold mining business. they wanted to send a ransom.>  He explains, and you try to decipher the German words. 

"How did someone even come up with them words?" Arthur sighs as you try to understand.

"G-gold minin'?" You attempt to say the word in German, "Your family owns a gold mine?" You say, glancing at Arthur with wide eyes. 

"Ja, yes!" The German man exclaims, and your eyes boggle. 

“Ihr beide bringt mich zu meiner Familie? Oh danke. Wie haben sie euch beide gefunden?”

<you’re taking me to my family? oh, thank you. how did they find you two?>

“Sorry partner, I can barely speak english.” Arthur huffs as you ride up on the Dewberry Creek bank. When you come over the hill, the man’s family is waiting for them. They’ve readied their wagon, and two draft horses are tethered to the front of it. 

“There they are.” You whisper back to the man with a smile on your face as the children point and smile. 

“Oh, Gott sei Dank!”

<oh, thank god!> He calls out, jumping down from Athena. He runs to his family, and catches his wife in a tight hug as the children run and wrap their arms around him. 

“Schatz!” 

<darling!> He exhales, releasing a held breath when he sees and feels his family. 

“Andreas!” His wife cries, kissing his cheek. 

“Ich dachte du wärst tot.” 

<I thought you were dead.> She says, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“Ich war es fast.”

<I nearly was.>  Andreas admits before looking down and greeting his children. You watch on as Arthur dismounts, going towards the little reunited family.

“Wir sind gesegnet, euch beide kennengelernt zu haben.” 

<we are blessed to have known you both.> The wife cries to you and Arthur as her husband helps her up into the wagon. You’re not sure what she’s said, but you’re sure it’s some form of gratitude. 

Arthur steps forward, shooing the family on. 

“Get outta here, this place ain’t safe.” Arthur tells them, but no one moves. 

“Get outta here! Vamos! Vamos!” Arthur yells, in a sad excuse for spanish while talking to german folks. You snort as the children clamber up into the wagon. The man points his fingers into the air as if he has an idea before digging through a compartment in his wagon. 

“Ich habe etwas für dich, Augenblick." 

<i have something for you, one moment.> He says, digging through the wagon as Arthur huffs, impatient. You only watch on from Athena, amused by Arthur’s easily frustrated state. Andreas turns around, holding two heavy, shimmering bars of gold in his hands. Your eyes boggle as he hands one to Arthur, and then comes forward to offer the other up to you.

“Danke aus tiefstem herzen”

<thank you from the bottom of my heart.> He whispers, glancing between you and Arthur. 

Arthur stares at the gold bar for a moment before glancing back up at the man as he climbs into his wagon, slapping the reins over the horses’ backs. 

“Guess it was a pleasure…” Arthur mumbles under his breath, sliding the gold bar into his satchel. You place your own in your saddle bag, saying nothing as he climbs on to Balius before you both make the trip back to the opening by the lake. You don’t have to say anything, he knows what you’re thinking. This is what happens when you help people. 

— — — —

When you’d arrived at the new camp, called Clemens Point, you found out, Grimshaw had already pitched your tent up next to Arthur’s wagon. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a waste, so you said nothing. Your tent is on the east side of the camp, not far from the lake. If it’s quiet, you can hear it lapping against the shore quietly. It’s a little warmer down in Lemoyne, something you’re grateful for. 

After helping everyone unpack, setting up the rest of the tents, grooming and untacking the horses, unloading the wagons, and cooking dinner, it’s nearly one in the morning. Absolutely exhausted, you begin pulling your gun belt off before you even enter your tent. You push the white canvas open, stepping inside and dropping your belt onto the ground. You strip down your clothes, feeling freer with every shed item until you’re left in just your underthings and a loose-fitting shirt. You take your hair out of its tie, scratching at your scalp before stepping towards the bed. 

A light knock sounds out on the front beam of your tent, and you smirk as Arthur steps in. He’s already dressed down, wearing nothing but his union suit and a comfortable pair of jeans. 

“Figured you’d want me in here.” He says with a smile, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’m glad you came.” You hum, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your lips meet in a sweet, slow kiss. It’s been a long, hard day and you’re both exhausted. Your lips part as you grip his arm and drag him to bed with you. You lay on your side, and Arthur’s chest lines your back tightly. One of his arms is under your head, and the other is draped over your waist. 

“I'm sorry about this mornin’.” Arthur whispers, and your lips fall into a small frown. You knew this was coming.

“It’s okay...  Just, choose who you wanna be. You can’t be a good man and a bad one, you gotta pick.” You say, turning around in his arms. His hands are warm on your body as you look up to his terrified eyes.

“Do you think I’m a bad man?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any hint of an answer. You shake your head. 

“No. I think you’re a good man, one of the best. But I think that can change, if you keep goin’ down this path.” You tell him truthfully, and he nods.

“Thanks, darlin’. I’ll be tryin, for you.” Arthur whispers, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your temple while releasing a breath. 

“Get some sleep now, okay?” Arthur says quietly, pulling the blanket further up over you. You hum, content, nuzzling into his chest until you’re fast asleep. It doesn’t take long with how exhausted you are. 

Back in Arthur’s wagon, sitting on his bedside table is his journal, with one new entry scribbled onto the white pages: 

She sees the good in me. I don’t know how or why, and yet she does. She looks at me like I’m the sunshine, brightening up her day. I fear I’m the opposite, but I’m trying everyday to be better for her. It’s an uphill battle. One step forward, two steps back, but I’m trying to be the man she deserves. She deserves so much, a family, a real home. I’d like to give her that one day. God– I’m sweeter on her than honey itself, I reckon. ♡

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt

[novemberhope]

Soooo… guess here are my current obsessions One Piece OCs

@auxiliarydetective I did give it a try… not everything is final yet. Might not be a great introduction like this but it was fun to do and if anyone has different questionaires (or whatever they're called) just tag me.^^

Ideas, criticism, inspiration, all is welcome :) I've never so openly done this tbh

Animal Resemblances Neri: Betta Fish Niara: Emerald Swallowtail Azura: Arctic Fox Cordelia: Bombay Cat Ellaria: Splendid Fairy Wren (Not 100% sold on that yet but it will be a beautiful bird) Ginny: Leopard Seal (looks cute but could actually kill you)

Specific Numbers Neri: 5/1/4 (ka – i - yo) (her last name) Niara: 22 (ni - a) Azura: 26 (a - tsu - ra) (eh, close enough^^) Cordelia: 5 10 0 2 (Ko - da - lei - a) (lol again close enough - but the many numbers look weird, this one might definitely change in the future?) Ellaria: 3-6-1 (Mirai = future) (it's a vision thing - but might also change if her name happens to fit better when she eventually gets one) Ginny: undefined yet

Specific Colors Neri: turquoise, light blue Niara: pale green, pale pink Azura: white, gold Cordelia: black, red Ellaria: white, grey, silver, very pale colors Ginny: a fiercy, angry red

Specific Smells Neri: ocean breeze, salt water Niara: apple & honeysuckle Azura: citron Cordelia: amber Ellaria: jasmine Ginny: honey & rose

Favourite Type of Island and Season Neri: summer on a spring island Niara: spring on a summer island Azura: winter on an autumn island Cordelia: autumn on an autumn island Ellaria: spring on a winter island Ginny: spring on a spring island

Favourite Food Neri: Seafood Niara: icecream, watermelon, blueberry pancakes, cupcakes Azura: oysters, shellfish, salad, filet mignon Cordelia: sunday roast, fried shrimp, spicy food Ellaria: Mushrooms, coffee, asian cuisine Ginny: strawberries, meat, soup

Least Favourite Food Neri: greasy food, meat, alcohol Niara: most vegetables Azura: fast food, cheap food, candy, cake Cordelia: lentils, fish sandwiches, anything with pumpkin Ellaria: fried foods, asparagus, ketchup Ginny: rhubarb, olives, brussels sprouts, eggplant

As a Family Neri: the adopted sister that comes from an entirely different culture Niara: cheerful youngest sister, always getting into mieschief Azura: the wine aunt Cordelia: oldest sister, often annoyed at her younger siblings but quick to defend them/come to their rescue Ellaria: the mother Ginny: (distant?) cousin

Real-World Nationalities Neri: Danish (as Denmark is associated with the little mermaid) Niara: Dutch (the Netherlands are described as the country of flowers and her devil fruit power is flower-based, so…) Azura: English-Irish (the latter shines through when she's drunk…) Cordelia: Italian Ellaria: Japanese Ginny: Scottish

Inner Brain Neri: probably lot's of excitement over various things that are happening around her or that she wants to give a try Niara: having fun with her friends, pretty things she likes, crushes (well one crush in particular) Azura: is annoyed at stuff and/or people half of the time so that's in her head a lot. Also, training. Cordelia: work hard, party harder, looking hot while doing both Ellaria: the fate of the world, secrets Ginny: training, anger, distrust, more anger

Suited Flower Neri: water iris Niara: sunflower Azura: white lily Cordelia: amaryllis Ellaria: tall garden larkspur Ginny:

Are they Strawhats? Neri: yes Niara: joins after the timeskip The others: no Azura: is a warlord of the sea Cordelia: works at a bar - it would be a different bar in cannon but she could keep her overall story I guess - might have to join a crew at some point though otherwise the characters would move on without her Ellaria: is with the revolutinary army (at least for some part of her story) Ginny: is with the revolutinary army

Ideas that first popped into my mind when certain OCs came to exist… Neri: it's a show about pirates, there's GOT to be a mermaid Niara: I want a character that uses a devil fruit mmmh what about plants/flowers (strangely enough, none of my pokemon oc's ever cared much about the grass type lol) Azura: I want a cool sword fighting lady Cordelia: I want a hot fierce type of character that looks good in black and that doesn't take anyone's crap Ellaria: came into the picture much later, I only recently decided somewhat on her looks, only things I know for sure is pale green eyes and can sort of see the future. Might never make it into any kind of story but she popped into my mind so here we go. Ginny: falls into the category "looks cute but can probably kill you".

Made some Picrew of them coz I saw other creators doing that

Neri:

Niara: (fun fact, she's currently one of my favorites)

Azura:

Cordelia:

Ellaria: (I'm almost certain I'm gonna keep the color palette and probably the hair...)

Ginny: (not her final look probably but I kinda want to keep the scars idk)

I took her pictures out because I decided on a different look for her. She will be a redhead now. She definitely has a scar or two on her face.

Bonus: A picture drawn by @indig0pearl featuring Neri and her own OC, Sora, as well as Nami, Robin, Chopper, and three of our friends (here also draw as OCs - yes the alpaka is one of them, she ate a devil fruit^^)

[samuelroukin]

twenty questions for fic writers!

tagged by @meyerlansky thank you 🙏

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

18..

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

294,445

3. what fandoms do you write for?

right now just cod 😔 i gotta write the third turn fic but the brainrot is strong

4. top five fics by kudos

limerence (i'll be your animal)

no face, no case

baptized in gunpowder

bliss in suffering

bite (this is war)

5. do you respond to comments?

sometimes it takes me a while bc i get Anxiety but i try to respond to all of them, it means so much that someone would take the time and i'd feel horrible not at least saying thanks

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably and i'm glad the world is ending bc well. nothing like knocking out the guy you just had weird sex with to make your escape.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

genuinely couldn't pick one, i think they all end on a pretty happy note? i don't always resolve Everything but i leave them in a spot where they can work out the details later if necessary lol

8. do you get hate on fics?

not to my face! i can think of a million reasons why i would, but everyone's been really niceys

9. do you write smut?

me??? write smut?? never.

10. craziest crossover:

i don't have any, and they're not really something i'm interested in so i'm unlikely to ever write one

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so, i'm not a big name author so unless it's just ai scraping i don't think anyone would bother

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, not as far as i know! i do have one reader that used google translate bc they don't speak english tho

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope, most i've done is discuss ideas and Options which is really fun, but i don't think actual co-writing is for me

14. all time favorite ship?

i don't think any ship i've liked has ever had the grip on me that soapghost has 💀

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

at this point it's looking like part three of the simleb fics but i WILL get to it. i will. i can't abandon my boys. there's also the one with gaz overhearing soapghost and relaying the details to price which i still like but it needs Something and i couldn't put my finger on it

16. what are your writing strengths?

smut. i think i'm alright at setting tone as well, and i like to think i'm ok at building up tension

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i'm terrible at dialogue and pacing. set descriptions too, i never know how much detail to put in vs letting readers fill in the blanks. i also don't really know how to describe it but i feel like my fics read less like a book and more like a script. and i get pointlessly, annoyingly wordy to say something that could be said in like two sentences lmao. add to that abuse and misuse of punctuation marks and it really is a mess lmao

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i don't like it generally speaking unless it's a word or two. i've used it once or twice tho dkjfhjkhst. it depends on the Why i guess, but if they're speaking another language together (as in one or more characters understand what's being said) i think it's better to be like 'he switched to dutch' and then use italics to go "Okay, this is what's happening, don't let them catch on." instead of writing the language

19. first fandom you wrote in?

i think it was death note? maybe something for a band before that, i'm not sure tbh

20. favorite fic you've written?

miannach my beloved 🙏 it's not perfect but i had a lot of fun with the magic and the crack taken seriously while still also being a little funny, plus it has one of my fave smut scenes i've written

tagging @bayonettotheheart @brotherdusk @meduseld @c4tto626 @ferindencadash only if u want ofc 🫡

[tinyfishtits]

Maybe a micah x reader where the reader has been with the gang for a long time but was only ever close to Arthur as like a sister brother type relationship so in colter she(or they) feel left out and outlasted and micah comforts them?

Oop it took me forever to answer this 🫣 lol but thanks for the req!! and for more Colter Micah !!! I hope you like it 😘❣️

I was out warming myself by the fire when a commotion broke out in the men’s cabin. Dutch was quick to intervene, scolding them like children. Saying they should be saving their energy for the O’Driscolls. Arthur was the first to leave the cabin at Dutch’s command and I was right by his side. 

“You’re goin’ after them? Now?” I asked, following closely as he headed for the horses. He just grunted in reply. 

Arthur had been running around doing errands since we got here. Back in Blackwater he would ask if I wanted to join him before he went off hunting or on a job. He had taught me most of what I knew of shooting, riding and robbing, we had been almost inseparable before… well, before. 

“I’ll come with-” I started but he whirled on me.

“No.” He said firmly, “This ain’t like Blackwater.” 

“But I can help! I’m a good shot, you know it!” 

“Dammit woman, No!” He shouted the last word at me and I froze. He’d never yelled at me before… “Just… Go help Grimshaw.” He murmured as he mounted his horse. 

Blush burned at my cheeks, water welling up in my eyes in response to the curt tone he’d taken with me. As if I was just a useless, pestering child. Like I hadn’t saved his ass on multiple occasions. The other men glanced between us as they saddled up but said nothing. 

“The snow’s made you a real ass, Morgan!” I yelled out to him as he trotted away. He didn’t so much as turn his head to look at me as they rode off. 

I was fuming. When I reluctantly turned back toward the cabin, a whinny from the stable beside me caught my attention. Pushing through the barn doors I found a lone Shire horse left behind, one that we used for pulling wagons. Approaching the large, strong horse… I got an idea. 

I made quick work of saddling the beast and started off after them, though I barely made it to the river just outside of camp when Charles called my name. I expected him to stop me, to demand I listen to what Arthur had said. Instead, he trudged through the snow to my horse and handed me a bow and arrows.

“You’ll get more use out of this today than I will…” Was all he said before heading back to camp. He didn’t baby me like the others. Didn’t tell me to be careful or expect me to stay back doing women's work, didn’t treat me any different from the men. I didn’t know the man well, but I appreciated that much about him.

I started off, following the tracks the large group had left in their wake. Despite Arthur’s insistence that this job was different from those we’d worked before, I didn’t find myself second guessing my decision to follow. Though the gunfire that soon erupted in the distance did stifle my confidence a bit. I knew it had to be a decently big job given the amount of men that had ridden out with Dutch, but what I stumbled upon was a full on battle. 

I found the gang’s horses at the end of the path that overlooked an old, abandoned settlement, much bigger and in better shape than the one we had made camp in deeper in the mountains. It was already littered with bodies and blood… I could only just make out Arthur in his big blue jacket kneeling behind a wagon, taking fire from the few left in a cabin at the far end of the camp. 

The others were spread out thin around the settlement, taking out stragglers that were fleeing into the forest. Quickly, I dismounted and made my way to the winding path that led down the cliff’s edge. I’d made it most of the way, unseen by both my fellow gang members and the O’Driscolls, until the galloping of horses sounded in the surrounding forest. 

“Look out! More of the bastards comin’ outta the trees!” Dutch’s voice boomed. And all of a sudden I was being hounded with gunshots. I dropped on my stomach, bullets spraying out above me. Crawling the last few yards to the treeline, I took cover behind some crates as I loaded my pistol.

“The HELL are you doin’ here?” Arthur’s furious voice broke through the gunfire.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of arguing. Without hesitation, I sprinted for the trees, taking out two gunmen that had just jumped from their horses in the process. I snaked my way through the sparse foliage, popping out behind the cover of tree trunks to pick off the O’Driscolls one by one.

When I ran out of bullets I switched to the bow, which I wasn’t nearly as skilled with, but managed to take down a couple more despite my fumbling. Silence fell over the forest, the shuffling of men and horses replacing that of the gunfire. I noticed Micah behind the tree nearest me, quickly shooting down the few stragglers that were attempting to flee. I caught his eye and he gave me a small, approving nod and a smirk. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Arthur spat at me, gripping me by the arm and yanking me back toward the horses. I dug my feet into the snow, trying to pull away from him but the man was too damn strong. 

“Arthur- Let go of me!” I yelled, fighting against his grip. He released me suddenly and I stumbled back, falling on my ass. His chest heaved with panting breaths, the anger he felt in that moment practically radiating off him in waves as he towered over me. But when I fell, sprawled out on the snow before him I saw the briefest flash of regret wash over his expression. 

“Knock it off you two!” Dutch's voice called back from the settlement, “Arthur! We’re not done here!” Arthur’s face clenched, reeling in his frustration before turning back to join the rest of the gang without so much as a word to me. 

Tears welled up in my eyes again and I cursed myself for being so hurt and embarrassed by his scolding… I started to push myself up from the snow when a hand shot out in front of me. Micah was standing over me, that smirk still on his face, his hand outstretched.

“I won't bite darlin’” He teased and I rolled my eyes, taking his hand and letting him hoist me back to my feet. Clearing his throat he continued, “That was some fine shootin’.” 

“I don’t need your pity, Bell.” I bit back, anger still coursing through my veins. He didn’t deserve it, well, not in this moment at least… But I couldn’t hide the frustration boiling up inside me. Though it didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.

“Morgan’s really got under your skin, huh?” He chuckled… and he was right, of course. I let out a sigh. The day Micah Bell showed more compassion and understanding than any of the other gang members was not a day I ever thought I’d live to see.

“He’s…” I didn’t know whether I wanted to defend or condemn his actions and just ended up clenching my jaw. Micah chuckled. 

“Hell, you can’t even badmouth the bastard after that whole display?” He scoffed, waving a hand between me and where Arthur had stormed off. 

“I just- I don’t know what changed. You didn’t know him before, he was… different.” 

“Alot's changed, doll.” He said simply, the teasing tone of his voice gone. “I ain't been with you long but even I can see that.”

My face scrunched up as I tried not to think of all that had passed within the last week. Those we’d lost… the dream we’d once been chasing that now felt as if we were actively running away from, the hope we’d left behind in blackwater. The tears that had been collecting in my eyes finally fell and I cursed, turning away from Micah. He didn’t mock me or leave, he just… let me cry. 

“God, I feel so fucking stupid I just… wanted to help” 

Micah huffed a sigh, “You did help, did a damn good job of it too. The fact that Morgan couldn’t see it just proves how dim that cowpoke really is.” 

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my face. “Thanks.” I laughed, though the sound didn’t hold much humor. He grunted in reply. 

“I ain’t used to women cryin’ over another man in my presence… it’s kind of refreshing.” He joked, and I let out a genuine laugh. 

“Well, it’s good to know one of yall’s still the same ole’ ass you always were.” I replied, my words more playful than biting. He gave me his signature smirk and I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my lips in reply. 

We walked back to join the gang - who had already gotten whatever it is they’d looted the camp for - in companionable silence. I found myself feeling more at peace in his presence than I had with anyone in quite some time…

If you liked this, check out my other Micah works!

★ My Masterlist ★

[milaswriting]

Just saw a video of a dude being all cute with his baby and I have to ask: do the ROs like babies/kids? how would they be as parents? would they even want to be parents?

Whether they would want to be parents would obviously depend on the mc too so this is general, will add Pinterest images because those are fun:

With A, I think one of the main reasons they’d want to be a parent is to right the wrongs of their own upbringing, but also, them even being in the position to have a kid — if you had asked them before moving to Lehsa whether they thought it would happen, they’d scowl lol. I think A would be a great parent: they’d be the kind of parent to love creating traditions with their kid, like regularly spending one on one time together and teaching them about their Turkish and Greek culture. They’d also encourage their kid to feel every single emotion, like crying is okay, feeling down is okay, feeing love is okay — bask in all those emotions that A found so difficult. Bonus: A would regularly call their child a Greek term of endearment.

B, a bit like A where having a child would please B because they’d give them all the love that they deserve, but also all the love that B didn’t get growing up. Originally, B never really thought about having a kid after they became a werewolf but I think they’d really love a family. Like, B’s child would literally be smothered in love: B would be the kind of parent that’s always present, they’d regularly have all of these sweet adventures with their child — that child would genuinely be B’s favourite part of themselves.

K, they’ve never really thought about being a parent. It’s not that it wouldn’t work, but y’know, fun aunt/uncle, I see that being more K’s vibe — but if they ever were a parent, it would definitely be eye-opening in the best way. It’d bring out their softness and sensitivity more, like there is no one that would hear K’s musical talent than their child. They can’t sleep? K’s taking out a guitar and singing a sweet song. Their kid’s bored? K’s playing the piano with them. As a joke, I think they’d buy their child a tiny leather jacket so they can match lol.

P and the idea of being a parent isn’t like essential, it’s a lovely thought, but it’s maybe a 50/50 scenario (which can be changed for the better by the right person). So, if they have a biological child then they’d have magic within them so I think it’d be cute to see P as a parent doing playful, pretty magic with their kid. If not biological, then P would use magic to entertain their kid. Oo, and also P teaching them French and Dutch would be a delight, and P would of course take lots and lots of pictures because that’s their thing.

[neeksnicoboytoy]

i am? a little curious abt your school system, bc if i understood your tags correctly, you're in middle school??

middle school's like, for preteens where i am so

did i read that wrong or does your school system work very differently from mine?

OOH WAIT HOKD N. i am NOT AMERICAN i'm dutch!!! -> from the netherlands. i usually just go hm preschool & middle school because for us preschool works like. kinderopvang -> child day care which is from 1-4yr old and THEN we go to de basischool which is your preschool i assume (4-12) and then we have de middelbare school which is from ages 12-19. i always get this wrong because i translate it directlt into english which makes it middle school instead of high school. THE THING IS americans etc have middle school and THEN high school so its two entire separate things but as i know it it's JUST "middle school" lol. and yeah i am in high school then! i graduated one of our education courses (HAVO) (which took me 5rs, from 12 to 17) which basically meant i could go get a higher education but i wanted my level to be higher so i am now enrolled in a higher "high school" education (VWO) which i am currently in my exam yr of!!!

super fun that you asked tbh im suprised ypu even saw that!!

the idea of mutuals actually SEEING my tags etc is new haha

i added a pic to explain it a little better because it can get confusing ☆

[benny-the-killer-kangaroo]

Get to know me!

Tag game, tagged by @hayesflint

Rules: answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with

• Favorite color: green ehehehe

• Last song: “Gideon Rises - End Credits” - Brad Breeck and Disney Lofi (Gravity Falls Lofi soundtrack)

• Currently reading: “The Couple’s Special” by Mossy Writes

• Currently watching: Gravity Falls! (literally while making this)

• Currently craving: violence barbecue, honestly. Or chicken 🤔

• Coffee or Tea?: definitely coffee. Although, only if it tastes like a milkshake. If y’all have a Dutch Bros, my favorite is the Islander Freeze :D

• A hobby you would like to try: OH I wanna make those like little dioramas!! Those things are so cool. I would love to make a little model of The Ghost someday

• An au you’re working on/thought of: I already wrote it, but I wanna rewrite it at some point (I wrote it in high school, ok-) basically a trucker!zeb au. “Diesel Trucks and Electric Cars” by Beaniebabe727 on ao3! I always loved the idea of Kallus being stuck on a roadtrip with Zeb lol. Uuughhh I need to draw more of this au-

No pressure tags: @5wolfdog5 @anatolysyoghurt @mossywriting @mayawakening @not0a0mundane @lost-in-derry @swordbladeknight7 @heart-0f-a-rebel16 @sunatsubu

[sugdenlovesdingle]

K, L & N please!!!

it's almost a shame you picked N and not M - KLM is the royal Dutch airline lol K:  Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)? I'm not sure about guilty pleasures but I NEED a happy ending. I can deal with drama and angst and heartbreak as long as everything is all sunshine and rainbows at the end. And I LIVE for meddling parents/siblings/friends and outsider/third person POV fics. L:  Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging to write? PS I love you. I usually avoid/ignore Gwyn's death (and I will be doing the same with Gabriel, thank you very much) but this worked really well with the prompt "Letter". I just cannot deal with Major Character Death fics in general, but dead parents/grief heavy fics are a big no for me. I'm happy with how it turned out but I probably won't be writing anything like that again! N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share? Oh man - so many! I'm hoping to finish my pride fic soon, there is my TK and Marjan exploring Austin fic that was inspired by TK's diamond earring and also these (mostly just ~vibes~ for now) - K9 handler/reluctant social media star Carlos - wrong person/right time blind date - photographer!TK going all Humans of New York Austin and getting Carlos in front of his lens (inspired by this screencap from the pilot I saw ages ago that had cameras on the shelves in TK's apartment) - Owen's bff/TK's godfather from New York visiting (outsider POV) - Owen and TK getting interviewed for local news as the new father and son duo working to reopen firehouse 126, and Carlos being there too to update the public on a missing person's case - a kind of missing moments thing of TK "officially" meeting Gabriel and Andrea. The show went from the farmer's market to dinner party at casa tarlos and that always felt a bit rushed. - Carlos and Gwyn bonding while TK recovers after being shot. In Bad Call, when Carlos shows up at Owen's house looking for TK, he still calls Owen Captain Strand but calls Gwyn by her first name, so in my mind he's closer to her/knows her better/is less intimidated by her. I have this image in my head of them having long conversations late at night when TK is asleep on Carlos' bicep and he can't/won't move because TK needs rest, and she isn't quite as scary when the only light source is the tv.

And my RWRB different first meeting fic that I shared a little snippet of earlier (and was supposed to be posted 4 months ago - never let me run a challenge again, me and deadlines is a bad combo)

[hermannsprecursors]

Hetalia x Pacfic Rim AU official stuff yay!

HERE I HAVE ACTUAL REFERENCES FOR THIS AU INSTEAD OF JUST SCREENSHOT REDRAWS. PLUS SOME EXTRA STUFF. THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST. SORRY. LMAO. HERE. MERRY CHRISTMAS. PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT MORE BECAUSE I HAVE OTHER CHARACTERS AND LIKE. ACTUAL PLOT ESTABLISHED. THESE ARE JUST THE MAIN GUYS

PILOTS

EXTRA STUFF: -Did I not tell you? This is an Ameripan au! Yippee! -Alfred has universal drift compatibility-- meaning they have the capacity to drift at least semi-successfully with everyone. However, he's had a pretty bad track record, and most of their drift partners have had serious accidents befall them. They quit for a year after his carelessness caused Lovino to get hurt. -Kiku went through a HEFTY breakup with Casper before being thrown into a partnership with Alfred (I'm not immune to nedpan propaganda, dear viewers). He is very bitter about it. -Kiku worked tech and development for about 7 months before being partnered with Alfred. -Initially, they were incapable of drifting. Alfred forced them to be able to. -Technically this au's Mako and Raleigh if you're keeping track of canonic similarity

EXTRA STUFF: -The two ended up really disliking each other initially. They've since grown on each other. -Initially, though, a lot of that dislike was just because of a language barrier-- that being Casper refused to speak anything but Dutch or occasionally Japanese and it just confused Matt. They're better now! -These lucky bastards have THE most recent model of Jaeger known to date, and by far have the fanciest tech. -Not only are they drift compatible, they're also compatible via star sign. Matt thought that was really funny when they first got together. -Roderich regrets pairing the two every single day. Alfred and Kiku may be this au's main couple but these two are the most chaotic duo and everyone hates it.

EXTRA STUFF: -These two are just. A mess. Both are absolutely RIDICULOUSLY traumatized and no one knows how they're still able to drift or how they're drift compatible but they make it work. -Nobody knows if they're dating or if Feli is just really clingy. It's very much so the latter, they're just besties. Feli just doesn't know boundaries. -Feliciano walks with a limp considering he has pins in his knee keeping it together via brace! Let's hear it for accidents while piloting -Also all of the burns and scars Ludwig has ALSO comes from accidents while piloting. Said accident kills his brother. Like I said, traumatized. -Literally NOBODY knows how they got put back in the Jaeger program. They literally just showed back up one day and Rod was like "eh alright, let's test them for compatibility because the world is gonna end in like 2 weeks"

SHATTERDOME STAFF

EXTRA STUFF: -And they're all married! (Well, Elizaveta and Roderich are married. Antonio is just there. Gilbert was also part of the polycule but he's dead lol) -Roderich has NO idea how he ended up in charge, but he's been the director of the Shatterdome since 2018 once he started to develop symptoms of MS and couldn't pilot anymore. -Elizaveta hasn't been able to pilot with anyone but Roderich and she's PISSED at him for it because she wants to PILOT AGAIN, DAMNIT -Roderich will greenlight literally ANYTHING, considering he has 8 months of spending, it burns up in about 3 weeks as of the starting date of this AU's story, and he has NOTHING to spend it on -Yeah Roderich is officially in charge but Antonio is really the one who makes most of the important decisions which is DEFINITELY for the best

EXTRA STUFF: -Science guys! (Which is SO weird considering Arthur and Francis used to be ACTUAL pilots. Like, plane pilots) -POINT AND LAUGH AT THE DUMB BRITISH MAN WHO'S DRIFTED SOLO WITH A KAIJU 3 TIMES (they're technically clinically insane at this point and Yao and Francis have no idea how they're alive) -Arthur was removed from active pilot duty after it was revealed they were exposed to radiation during early testing, as they were one of the test pilots in the Jaeger program, courtesy of the RAF. Francis was supposed to take their place but wasn't compatible with any open pilots. -Yao is HONESTLY the only sane one here and nobody knows how considering he's surrounded by FREAKS. -Also Yao was the only of his family to do the science-- all of his siblings went into actual piloting. -Yao and Arthur are technically the Hermann and Newt of this AU. Again, only if you're looking for like contingency with the actual plot of Pacific Rim

EXTRA STUFF: -These two aren't related in any way they literally just work here. Both are victims of Alfred's bad luck streak though! -Seriously. Alfred's trauma from previous drift experiences wrecked Ivan's psyche so bad he's incapable of drifting and had to move to munitions and Lovino was partially paralyzed after a mission gone wrong (same one that ruined his brother's leg) that Alfred couldn't be there for because they were ill. -Lovino gets to run missions for other people now so he just gets to sit and be petty over a microphone all day now. -Ivan WOULD have universal drift compatibility if he didn't undergo such psychological trauma. Plus he just really isn't well and should not be anyone's drift partner. -Lovino on the other hand only ever drifted with Alfred and her brother. In fact, Vino and Alfred were partners (both drift and romantic partners) for about a year and a half before the accident

YAY THERE'S CHARACTER STUFF! PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN ANY PLOT STUFF BECAUSE I LOVE PACIFIC RIM STILL AND I WANTED TO COMBINE IT WITH A FANDOM STILL VERY VERY VERY SPECIAL TO ME

[eldritchsurveys]

1180.

1. Do you enjoy rhododendrons? >> Sure, they're very pretty.

2. Have you ever met someone who supports Nazism? >> On the internet, yeah. Fortunately not in meatspace where they can actually do something to me. 3. If you’ve ever been to another country, what was the best thing you did there? .

4. Which is your favorite print: Plaid, animal, stripes, spots, other? >> Plaid is the one I dislike the least...

5. Have you ever owned a cell phone for over a year? If so, was it still working well? >> There is no way I would voluntarily get a new phone after less than a year. That is horrifying to me.

6. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? >> Food poisoning. Also, the sickness that comes with bad menstrual cramps.

7. What do you enjoy more: Fairs or circuses? .

8. Is your favorite animal something you can have as a pet? . 9. Are you good at gardening? >> I am not because I don't practice it.

10. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? >> Hmm... I have no idea. 11. Do you think you would actually read any of the epic poems, such as Beowulf or The Iliad? >> Probably not. 12. Are you the type of person who feels guilty after eating junk food? >> I don’t feel guilty after eating anything. God, what a concept. :/

13. Tell me about a time when you felt like you had no real friends: >> I always feel like that. It might be a side effect of having no fulfilling friendships (aside from Sparrow, I suppose, but the "fulfilling" part is, uh, variable).

14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If so, what did they do to make you feel that way? >> Possibly. I never use this term so I don't have an associated memory handy.

15. Which is better: Xbox 360 or PS3? Or are you someone who doesn’t care? >> I don’t have an opinion.

16. Have you gotten registered to vote yet? >> I am registered.

17. What do you like best about your favorite actor? How about favorite actress? >> Usually what makes an actor a favourite for me is that they do something to me, viscerally. It's something like attraction, I suppose. Certainly as hard to explain.

18. Tell me how you’re feeling in another language: .

19. Would you rather drink water all day or Coca Cola all day? >> Water. I rarely drink Coke in the first place.

20. Name three movies which have a soundtrack you really love: >> Requiem for a Dream, Speak No Evil (2022), Sunshine.

21. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? >> I don't know, I haven't had Gatorade in years.

22. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? .

23. Do either of your parents get angry over small things? . 24. What is the most dramatic TV show that you watch? >> I don't really know how to measure this. I mean, Riverdale is basically a soap opera, so I guess that? 25. Do you still watch VHS tapes? >> I have not watched those since the early aughts. 26. Have you ever visited one of the states that doesn’t have sales tax? Was it a nice change? >> I have not.

27. Have you ever had Dutch Brothers’ coffee? >> I have not.

28. What are your grandparents like? Are they nice or mean? . 29. Do you own any pet fish? What kind of fish are they? .

30. Do you have a turntable and vinyls that you regularly play? >> I do have these things but I don't regularly use them. It's just so much more of a hassle to do so than it is to just play Spotify. Also, I don't think my record player has Bluetooth capability and I usually listen to music through wireless headphones.

31. What is the most irritating thing that a boyfriend or girlfriend has ever done to you? >> I am so easily irritated by people that this is impossible to determine, lol.

32. Have you ever thrown up from being so nervous? What was happening that made you so nervous? >> I have not.

33. Would you rather be uncomfortable but fashionable or comfortable but unfashionable? >> I will always choose to be comfortable, but I don't think that excludes me from being fashionable. It just requires some cleverness.

34. When was the last time you took your pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? . 35. Have you ever known someone who was in an abusive relationship? >> Well, yeah. Unfortunately, that is extremely common.

36. If you smoke/drink/do drugs, do you feel insulted when someone tells you that it’s bad for you? >> If someone tried to tell me that, I would be extremely irritated at best. I am quite capable of evaluating personal risk and making informed decisions, thank you.

37. Do you like skiing or snowboarding? >> I have never done this. 38. Do you find government buildings dreary and uncomfortable? >> Sometimes, but mostly I don't think about them at all.

39. Name the last horror story you read. If you can’t remember any, name the last horror movie you saw. >> A Short Stay in Hell by Steven Peck. It's a novella about a Tower of Babel situation, pretty neat.

40. What happened the last time you were embarrassed? .

[onboardsorasora]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers tagged by  @lilyrizzy thank you for the tag! this was insightful for meeeee

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 7 (all my other fandom fics are on different sites)

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 139,751

3. What fandoms do you write for? F1 and InuYasha

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Match Point, Adore You, Teeth, Wreck Me and Random Works

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I love squealing together with my readers.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Wreck Me! Lmao people were big mad. Second would probably be that Quest Fic “Tell Max I love him”

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? So far the only fic that’s ended is the Adore You verse. So Teeth has the happiest ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope. no one has told me to my face/in my ask/comments/DMs that they hate my fics. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! I have a fic (InuYasha) where there was an art exhibition that devolved into an orgy. No sex pollen needed. I have a smut fic series (also InuYasha) I’ve only been writing rpf for less than a year so I’m behind on the smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? I don’t think I have (def not for F1) but I’m not opposed. I just need to know a lot about both worlds to feel comfy

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. I’m also afraid to go looking

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of, and I’m afraid to go looking lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? My DMs are just chat fics all day every day. I’ve outlined like 2 fics which I’ve published with @blacklaces

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? My OTPs are Maxiel and SessxKag. I do love me some Dewis as well

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? So far, I don’t have a new WIP for F1 just yet. I do have a lot of half baked ideas written in my notes app. But I have 1 IY one that…. I dream about finishing but I know it’ll never happen. Its already been 10 years and it was supposed to be a whole ass epic plot. Its sat at 69k words….it would have easy been 100k. Thats not happening I feel

16. What are your writing strengths? Honestly, I’m not sure. I think its my dialogue? I’ve been trying to get better as descriptions. Honestly Idk lmao. My writing strength might be comedy? Idk idk– if someone knows, please tell me?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Angst, or keeping the mood angsty. I’ve been working on my pacing and descriptions

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I don’t do it anymore. I used to (for IY its a little harder because the original show is Japanese set in feudal Japan so a lot of the nouns are Japanese) But for F1 I just write with the assumption that everyone is speaking English and if they aren’t then I’ll say it. Like there was a note in Adore you to assume any dialogue between these two characters are in Italian. Because, of course, the scene was set in Italy. I’m in my “here is some dialogue” he said in Dutch era.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Either InuYasha or Yuu Yuu Hakusho. I can’t remember, but it probably was IY

20. Favorite fic you've written? I think its Tennis AU!! I truly love Tennis!Dan so so much! Enchanted AU is coming in a close second. 2Wrecked2Furious is my baby so I don’t think I can reasonably count it fairly.

Tagging...... @blacklaces @purplesallthewaydown @flawlessassholes if you haven't as yet/want to. Also anyone else <3

[reefer-reelz-n-reviews]

Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008)

Second movie: Zack and Miri Make a Porno

Smoking: A cone, some of bob bowl

This is another one of my favorites. Having male roommates can be a challenge, which I'm sure they would feel the same way about females. lol. Sharing a bathroom with them is hard also. But I always made sure to lock the door.

Seth Rogen steals Elizabeth Bank's hand warmer to heat up his balls, gross. But he gets his own pay back because it burns his nut sack! Karma.

I definitely knows what it feels like to not want to go to your 10 year reunion. I didn't go to mine, but I had a good reason, COVID it and so I got to stay home and not really make an excuse. Works for me!

I think Craig Robinson is my favorite in this movie. Imma be Oprah rich!

First outfit that EB tries on makes her look like she's in the 70s. I do like the dress she choose she looks cute in it. "To catch a predator kind of way, yeah its sexy." As SR says.

Having 800 people in your graduating class sounds terrible. Like that just sounds like a very packed school, like sardines. Like that is just one class, not including the lower grades.

Then you have the wonderful Jason Long! I really like his other movies; Dodgeball, Accepted. Both great movies.

"I will be your Sherpa on the mountain of gayness"

CR talks about wanting to watch shit while you shit does sound like a good idea. Though like you need to make sure you leave or your legs would be so numb.

Trying to come up with porn movie names, my roommate goes 28 Dongs Later. lol

Jason Mewes being in here I think is the cherry on top. He is so funny, Lester the Molester Cock-in-Stuff. Wait his porn name is Pete Jones!

Erotic Re-imagining Star Whores was born!

Then their plans get foiled and the place they were renting gets destroyed. Now to find out the next thing to try because they still need money. Finding the next thing while working in the Bean-N-Gone.

Shit going into other shit. Kind of feel like that's how life is.

Why would you just start dancing in a porn. They are in a coffee shop, like it was just so random lol.

CR and JM sleeping together on the couch is so adorable. Super hilarious CR's thumb in JM's mouth.

Then the fall out between Zack and Miri. And as he is walking out of the coffee shop the guy pulls out too quickly and the poor camera man got covered in poo! So gross, but soo sooo funny!

CR finally gets Oprah rich! The Settlement went through. And we can come through and end the movie where he love interest comes to a close.

Sex really does change a lot of things in a relationship.

When SR runs into the apartment and sees JM naked in the apartment walking around like its nothing. Teaching SR about what a dutch rutter or a double dutch rutter. I probably could have gone my whole life without knowing that information. lol.

Let us Fuck! The End!

Wasn't as involved with this movie. In some pain and not looking forward to go to work tomorrow. Next time I'll do better, maybe, depends on the buzz.

Binge Smoke*

Hopefully I'll wake up feeling better!

Thanks for stopping by.

-Tripple R

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

228 of 223

What do you look like right now?

I have a red hoodie with A Really Cool Print™ and Grey cargo trousers that are cool as well. Just my hair is messy as usual.

When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

Just before he left to work.

Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

Warm. I hate cold weather.

Where did you get the underwear you are wearing right now?

H&M.

Where did you sleep last night?

In my bed lol.

Do you secretly like anyone?

Yeah, I kinda have a tiny bit of feelings for a guy named Maxim, here I said it. But other than that, I’m open about who I like.

Who was the last person to make you laugh?

My husband.

Anything annoying you right now?

Not really.

Is there any emotion you’re trying to avoid right now?

No, not really.

Have you done anything embarrassing lately?

My whole life is embarrassing incidents XD

Are you excited for winter?

Not at all. I hate winter with passion.

Do you like/love someone?

I feel like I answered this already.

Do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

No, I love him. By the way, it’s weird to think “boy” about a dude aho is almost 51 years old XD

Do you miss anyone?

Yes, my parents and my sister.

Have you held hands with anyone in the past 48 hours?

No. Even me and my husband don’t hold hands, we don’t like it.

What are your plans for this weekend?

We’ll see what life brings. Probably groceries.

Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yeah, when I was younger.

Have you ever been on a horse?

No, I haven’t.

If you could teleport, where would you go?

To my parents.

What is your favorite dish at a Chinese restaurant?

All these little thingies that are starters.

What is your favorite fruit?

Strawberry.

Were you a 80’s or a 90’s child?

I was born in 1990, so 90s, definitely.

Do you enjoy listening to techno music?

Yeah, but I like EBM much more.

What time do you usually fall asleep?

Around 23:00.

When was the last time you went to the mall?

I think I was in Kortrijk last time, about two weeks ago?

Does a mango smoothie sound good to you now?

Ew no. The taste of mango is awful to me.

How many of the harry potter books have you read?

None.

Don’t you just hate commercials?

Doesn’t everyone? I love the Whiskas commercials, though.

How many of your friends play world of warcraft?

None I know of.

Who else in your house is awake right now?

I’m alone if we don’t count cats, but they’re both sleeping.

Are caterpillars more cute or disgusting?

Disgusting.

Would you rather receive roses or sunflowers?

No.

Are you going to take more surveys?

Not right now as I’m going out, but maybe at the evening.

Is your dad bald?

No, he’s not. He’s not even fully grey. You wouldn’t believe he’s 70.

Does your job involve working with people or operating a cash register?

Working with people, yes. Operating the cash register, no.

Who is the most boring, or dullest person that you know of?

That fkn moron who was harassing me over messages on Instagram. What a boring idiot. I can’t believe anyone actually likes him. From what I saw, nobody actually does.

Is your local weather a bit on the bi-polar side, or is it fairly predictable?

It’s both at the same time. Man, this is Belgium.

How long was your last phone conversation you had?

57 seconds. With my husband, we always get to the point.

What smiley face do you use most?

XD

Does crying actually make you feel better?

I don’t cry, so no idea.

Are you happy?

Yes, I am. Not 100%, though.

What’s the last thing you drank?

I think Vanilla Coke.

Do you think someone has feelings for you?

My husband loves me, that’s for sure.

How long do you have until your birthday?

Two months and something.

Do you know anyone who has been arrested?

Yeah, my Dutch asshole neighbour.

Who is the closest person in your life, emotionally speaking?

My husband, my dad, my sister. No particular order.

Do you remember the name of the first bar you ever went to?

Nah. Probably one of these beach bars.

Were you of age?

You’re always of age in my country. Not gonna go into details.