#this was way before the ranch so there was no way we could keep em

[pokemonranch]

I don't know if your still interested in partner pokemon stories, but I wanted to share mine since it's weird.

My partner is a Scolipede and he's a sweetheart, I've had him for a long time. I visited my Mom like a week ago and asked about how I met him. Well apparently she doesn't know, I just came home with him. My Mom just let me explore the woods near our home when I was like 7, and I came home with a Venipede. I'm not kidding.

[Photo of a young girl smiling while holding a very confused Venipede]

I'm shocked he didn't attack me. He just got scooped up by a child and stuck with them ever since.

I really understand your mom, honestly. My sister (Hazel) already had a 'mon since she was a child, but that didn't stop her from coming home with literally anything she could get her hands on. That includes a Combee hive she found on the ground after a storm, and the 15 to 20 Combees that followed her home.

[katsu28]

KAIT I LOVE U HI can i request Baby’s Breath - a wholesome moment with Hangman please?

hi thank you for requesting ily!! in honor of glen becoming a dog dad here is jake becoming one too i hope you enjoy it <3 (part of me wanted to scrap this and rewrite but we are embracing difference today folks!)

baby's breath: a wholesome moment, jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.4k

Growing up on a ranch, Hangman was no stranger to animals of all kinds. He’d always wanted a dog of his own when he finally settled down somewhere, but never got one because of how often he was gone on deployment. After you came into his life and made it clear you were going to stay, he brought up the topic of wanting to adopt a dog together. Thankfully, you wholeheartedly and very excitedly agreed with him. 

It was a win-win for everyone; Hangman would finally get his furry friend, you’d have someone to keep you company while Hangman was away, and the lucky pup would find a forever home with two people ready to spoil the absolute shit out of them. 

That was how you ended up here at Top Pup, Miramar’s biggest animal shelter. 

Hangman had heard his fair share of loud things before—jet engines, gale force winds, Rooster after a few too many beers—but he wasn’t expecting an animal shelter to be this…well, loud. He could hear the barking echoing off the walls of the place as soon as you both stepped inside, rattling and clanking of pens accompanying.

The woman at the front desk brought you out back to a wide pen lined with artificial turf, where dogs of all sizes roamed around interacting with other folks who’d had the same idea as yourselves today. 

As soon as you stepped into the fenced area, you were surrounded by dogs instantly, all of them nosing their way into the fray to get a sniff at a potential forever home. 

“Can we just adopt them all?” You asked, aiming a pout up at Jake as you tried your best to love on every single one of them. 

“I don’t think we have enough space for all of them, darlin’.” He chuckled, kneeling down next to you. A few of them left you to sniff at him and he welcomed them with open arms, giving a few chin scratches and rough pats that they thoroughly enjoyed. “How ‘bout we start with one and see how it goes, then we can talk about adding to the pack.” 

“You’re no fun.” You were only joking and Jake knew that.

He gave a playful shake of his head, grinning. “Bite me.” 

“C’mon girl, sic ‘em!” You joked towards the fluffy black dog currently enjoying your love, nodding in Jake’s direction. Her head tilted, tongue lolling out of her mouth and ears pricking up, but she made no move towards him. “You’re just a big ol’ sweetheart, aren’t you baby? Yes you are, I love you.”

Had you been paying a shred of attention to your boyfriend, you would’ve seen him snapping a quick photo for his not-so-secret album of pictures of you he scrolled through when he missed you whilst he was away. 

Time went by in a blur, and soon you lost track of how many dogs you’d met. They were all adorable and your earlier statement about wanting to adopt them all still stood, but none of them gave you that feeling—that zing that made you say ‘yes, this is the dog for us’. 

That was, until Jake caught your attention from across the yard. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass at the very corner of the yard, beaming at you as he waved you over. 

“Honey, come look at this little guy,” Jake called, excited. You ruffled the fur of the dog you were knelt next to one more time before making your way to where he was, spotting the tiniest pup you’d ever seen curled up on a pile of blankets a few feet away. “The lady said he and his four siblings had just been dropped at the door a few days ago, but the rest of ‘em have already been adopted. Said he’s been huddled away over here pretty much ever since. Didn’t even get a chance to give him a name yet.” 

The pup’s fur was a gorgeous white with cream markings on his face and ears and the same colored patches along his back, big dark eyes peering out at the two of you curiously. Jake put out a hand on the ground in front of you, making little kissy sounds to see if he’d show any interest. When all the puppy did was blink slowly, he kept his hand out, just in case. “He seems shy. I barely noticed him over here.” 

“Hi baby,” You cooed, taking a seat on the ground next to Jake. “You’re just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, little dude!” 

It took a little while for the puppy to warm up to the two of you, but you were more than happy to be patient. Eventually, he padded over to Jake on unsteady paws, sniffing at his outstretched hand tentatively. He was barely as long as his forearm. His little nose twitched a few times and then he promptly crawled into Jake’s lap, and you swore you could see your big tough boyfriend melt a little inside. 

You’d always talked about adopting a bigger dog—one Jake could rough-house with in the yard, one that would be able to protect you if need be when Jake wasn’t around. He’d told you about the dogs his family had when he was growing up, cattle herding dogs and big Shepherds that could (and did) knock his younger self to the ground. They were absolute sweethearts when it came to the family, he’d said, but loyal to a fault and wouldn’t hesitate to protect their loved ones. Kind of like Jake. 

Admittedly, you’d originally been leaning towards a larger dog too, but the tiny pup looked right at home comfortably nestled in Jake’s lap. This was the dog for you, and one look at Jake told you he was thinking the exact same thing. Soon enough, the paperwork had been filled out, adoption fee paid, and the pup was yours. 

A trip to the nearest pet store to grab everything you’d need proved too tiring for the little guy, who’d fallen in your arms before you had a chance to let him see what toys made his little ears perk up. Then you were home, settled on the floor of the living room in the pen Jake had set up next to the couch with your new furry little addition curled up on the floor between the two of you. He was awake now but still sleepy, trying to keep his head up to take in his new surroundings but starting to nod off again. 

“What should we name him?” Jake wondered aloud, tilting his head at you as his fingers scratched circles behind the pup’s ears. 

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I dunno, throw some names at me.” 

“Uh…let’s see. How ‘bout Brisket?” 

“We get it, you’re from Texas,” You huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. Jake flicked your knee. You let your gaze fall on your pup, watching his eyes flutter shut the longer you stroked along his back. “You don’t look like a Brisket to me, my love.” 

“I thought I was your love?” 

“I can have two, can’t I?” 

“So long as that one doesn’t get any ideas,” Jake muttered, narrowing his eyes at the pup, who gave a tiny, tired growl. “Whoa, okay! Copy you loud and clear, big guy. No need to get all tough on me.”

“What about Fido?” 

“That’s so unoriginal. What are we, living in the 40’s?” 

“Snowball?” 

Jake fixed you to the spot with an unamused look. “I’m not naming our son Snowball. He’s gotta have a tough name. Something like…Turbo. Or Rambo. Bruiser!” 

You honestly didn’t really register the names he threw out, too focused on the first thing he’d said. “Our son? Does this mean we’re parents?” You asked softly, not able to fight the giddy grin working its way across your face. Jake slid a hand around the back of your neck, bringing you into the sweetest of kisses, fondness dripping like honey. 

“We’re parents, darlin’.” He repeated, smiling against your mouth. You suddenly flashed forward to the next time Jake would say those words, sometime far in the future with a baby of your own (human, not canine). It seemed so off in the distance, but you already knew in your heart it was something you both wanted eventually.

For now, you had all the love in the world to give your brand new fur baby.

“Parents of our yet to be named puppy.” 

“I still think Brisket is a solid option.” 

“We’ll workshop it.”

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[thesecretcornerintheroom]

1 Month

Part 2

Pairing: Oj Haywood x Black female reader

Warnings: Bondage, Angst, Yearning 😂 (so y'all, this is part 2, and it took me a while to figure it out I hope y'all enjoy 💕)

Word count: 22752

HA SO THE LUCKY SPECIAL WORKED said Emerald. I knew some weird shit was going on. He stopped grunting all the time and being grumpy, she said, laughing. “Can you shut the hell up?”I bit at Emerald. “You said you needed my help”. My tone was embarrassed partially by how loud she was and second by her statement. I haven’t seen Emerald in a month; a lot has happened, like a weird alien lingering around their farm. “That’s why you haven’t been coming around,” said Emerald as she leaned in. Her lashes touched her eyebrows with anticipation as her smile widened. Her gaze held my eyes with amusement and curiosity“damn, it was that bad. Should have fucked with me,” causing me to let out the loudest laugh. We’re in a dinner, drinking our milkshakes and sharing a fry, reviewing her research about this alien and the ranch. “What was so funny?” I heard his voice, and everything stopped, the laugh spilling out my body, the old music that blared through the dinner. I knew that voice, that deep country voice. I turned to see OJ; he was looking at Emerald and me. His body was more buffer, and his skin was glowing from sun exposure. He wore an old faded t-shirt, and his dark blue jeans faded from working. His gaze went from Emerald and fell on me. For once, I couldn’t read them well. It’s not like I ever could. OJ didn’t have a lot of facial expressions. I had to look back at Emerald, hoping she would save me. “I was telling her about that weirdo we met from the camera store,” said Emerlaed in a charismatic tone, “Angel,” said Oj. “yep,” we both said in unison. “Mhm,” he sat beside Emerald. “Alright, back to business. What the fuck is this over our ranch, and why is it here,” said Emerald noticing a shift in the room.

“Bye em be. Safe,” I said as she exited the car to walk into her new women of the week house. Emerald will still attend her bootie call even when supernatural things run around. Yeah, she said, walking away. “I’ll get you tomorrow, I assume,” said OJ passive-aggressively. She stopped and turned around, you assumed correctly, causing me to giggle as OJ drove off. I could feel the tension setting in. Who knew a 5’4 girl who Yaps with a loud voice was keeping the tension at bay? “So, how lucky will I be to see him in commercials?” I said, trying to make small talk. I can feel OJ‘s body tense, his eyes on the road. “He is supposed to be in a beer commercial” in about two months. “OK, well, that’s good. That’s exciting. I can’t think of the last time Lucky was in” before I could finish my sentence. He cut me off; “where have you been?” His eyes didn’t leave the road, causing my body to heat up. “I texted you and called you,” but there was no response. The only person you respond to is my sister for this:” I can tell you wanted to say more, but Oj never Said more. He only talked when he felt like talking. Oj saying this much was shocking to me. “I got wrapped up with my job, and between working and stuff, it has just become a lot.” I said my words, fumbling, trying to come up with any excuse for not calling or texting him back. Lucky listened to the excuse and turned the radio up. “there is something on your mind, the way you look at me.” I don't know if it was the singer's voice filled with concern and yearning or the old band playing behind the singer's voice. Maybe it was the lyrics or how Oj's jaw flexed as he tried not to talk. Still, I felt the tension rise in the car, and my body turned to jelly. The silence and this song were going to be the death of me.

Once we arrived at my house, everything looked the same: my porch light was flickering cause it needed to be fixed. The radio was turned off, and now we were in silence before I could say anything.” how long has your light been out?”

“ since last week, but I don’t go out often, so it hasn’t bothered me. I responded. “My tool kit is in the back, and I’ll fix it”He said. As we got out of the car and my feet hit the ground, I was grateful to feel the earth. My legs were still tingling, and the air was thick as OJ grabbed his toolbox, and I went inside. I decided talking wasn’t the best option. “Okay, okay, y/n, while he fixes the light, get yourself together I scrutinized myself as I went into the fridge. I noticed the lemon bars I made for a hot summer night. I grabbed some without thinking, one for me, one for him. When I walked back to the front, my light fixture was now fixed, and Oj was heading to his car. “OJ!” you said with a worried tone. He turned around, putting his toolbox in his trunk. You looked at him, and your eyes said, please stay hoping he would understand. You sat on your porch steps with your plate in your hand, holding the sweets you made.

“You want a treat?” You said, voice thin, scarred of what he’d say or want to say. Oj stopped and looked at me for a long time, his face unreadable. He walked up to me slowly and sat down. His body was big in stature as he sat at the top of the steps, His legs stretched to the bottom steps, and the air felt warm and heavy with him near me. He grabbed the sweet off my plate and took a bite. I looked at him, wondering what he’d say about my newest lemon dessert. “9/10,” He said. “Gasps,” I said, “that’s a 10/10, And you know it?” I said, grinning, voice heavy. He looked at me, smirked, and took another bite. I saw the custard form on his lip, quickly replaced with a swipe from his tongue. Oh, that tongue, his eyes glistened “to tangy.” He said maybe more powder on top. I shook my head, mentally nodding, “Oj has no vices but one, and that’s super sweet pastries,” I giggled. Leaning away, he looked at me. One pastry was now gone.

“Oj, I’m sorry, but I should’ve been honest. I haven’t called or responded to you because I was scared My mom and dad are gone my siblings live across the country. All I have is you and Em; I don’t know.” My heart beat in my chest, and my body was overwhelmed with the truth. Oj was looking at me. “Mhmm,” he said as he looked at me. I could feel the tension. It felt like a balloon was going to pop. I stood up, grabbing the plate. “Do you wanna come inside,” I said, standing up and looking down, trying to grasp at my sanity. Oj looked up at me as he rose. I felt the dynamic shift; he was towering over me. He speaks with eyes, that’s for sure. He looked at me and then at the door. He shook his head yes.

Once inside, I went straight to the kitchen and dumped the pastry in the trashcan. “I don’t have any friends said Oj. All I have is the ranch Em and you and now, Angel said. Oj crept over to me slowly, each footstep holding weight. He looked down at me and placed his hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes. Oh, how I missed his warmth. His hands were rough; his hands felt like work. His hand went to the side of my neck, his thumb slowly rubbing my neck, titling my chin up. He lifted me and placed me on the dining table, my mouth open from shock. He kissed me quickly. The kiss was feverish and fast. His lips tasted of vanilla and zest. He was kissing me like he was making up for lost time, grabbing my legs, and pulling me closer to him. “But I'd rather have you like this than a friend he grunted out” as his lips left my mouth and worked his way down my neck, leaving kisses above my breast.

In this summer heat, all you had on was a tank top and shorts, his hand roaming my body and still on my neck. He pulled me in closer. “I don’t think I can get any closer.” he removed my tank top. “Uh-huh,” he said as he placed his lips around my nipple, causing me to arch my back. My fingers found the nape of his neck, diving into his kinky curls. “Oj, please, I purred,” his tongue circled my nipple, his tongue sending shocks through my body. My legs wrapped around his waist, subnconsily pushing my body backward from the dealing of pleasure. The plates and table decor fell over with a clatter. Clank as so of my cups hit the floor. His hands gripped under my thighs and lifted me, causing me to yelp. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, giggling as he walked me to my room.

He placed me on the bed. “hold still, " he said with a smirk. As I lay on the bed, my body felt vulnerable. I could feel his fingertips dancing on me, going up and down. I felt a thumb swipe over my spot with my jeans on, causing me to gasp. His hands slowly trailed to the button of my shorts. As the button popped, I could feel He pulled down my shorts off my leg.his hands slowly rose to my waist, dragging his hands back up my body, leaving me in my panties that were red. “A month. I’ve thought about you for a month,” he said, removing his shirt. “I thought about that night you slept over.” his tone was calm. His toned body was showing, and his skin glistening in the dimly lit room. His muscles flexed as he removed his belt, jeans, and underwear. Once free, he grabbed my hands, placing them above my head. He stopped and looked at me in my face. “ for a month, I missed you, your laugh, your warmth,” his tone dripping with sincerity. His face observed every piece of me, soaking me In like this. I got so lost in his eyes I almost didn’t feel the leather wrap around my wrist. “ Oj,” I said, breaking eye contact and looking at my wrist. His belt was now tied around my wrist, his buckle at the front on full display, shining in the light, and I was shocked looking at him. Oj looked at my wrist. “just say no,” he said. He looked at me, and I knew he meant it.” I’m okay,” I whispered.

“A month,31 days, you stayed on my mind. I kept thinking about what I would do and how I would kiss you, he said, rubbing the side of my thigh slowly. So I’m going to show you what’s been in my head for 31 days,” he said, kissing me earnestly. His hands find my clothes clit and start playing with it, causing me to have gaps in his mouth. He grunts in my mouth as he speeds up with his finger over my clit, causing me to squirm. The feeling felt so Good but so far away. “please, please,” I said as I thought about the feeling between my legs. The feeling growing inside of me, but my panties were stopping the feeling. “Uh, uh, I know you got it,” he said, his southern drawl in my ear as his finger moved over my clothed clit harder.I felt my wetness start to drip past my panties.

“common be good for me.” He said. The wetness between my legs grew. My panties were becoming wet, and my voice became ragged.” Please, please, uhh,” I said, my core tightening, the feeling going through my body. “Your thighs are shaking so much,” he said, “cum for me.” The wetness pooled in my panties, causing me to come undone. My sight was hazy, my breath shallow, and I put my tied wrist around his neck.I looked him in his eyes, and I knew at that moment I couldn’t run anymore.

From him or my feelings in that moment, my hands tied draped over the back of his neck, I pulled him down to me, his full lips feeling out mine, causing me to sigh in contempt as I kissed him. I wrapped my legs around his hips, my clothed member now grinding against him. His caused him to grunt, stopping my hips with his hands. He pulled down my panties and threw them across the room. His finger trails up my calf and my inner leg. As it reached my core, I felt my eyes close with anticipation. His finger swipes between my folds before they enter his two fingers, entering me. Letting out a gasp from the heavy breathing in the room and the wet sounds of him fingering me, his two fingers going in and out of me at a slow, poisonous rhythm. OJ was breathing hard as he looked down, eyes locked on my pussy. “You seem ready for me,” he said as he looked up at me. I opened my eyes and shook my head. Oj positioned himself in between my legs and pushed in with a demanding force, causing me to moan in satisfaction. His lips met my neck as he nibbled and kissed, teasing his hips, moving slowly, still moving with force, his hips snapping, meeting the rhythm of my hips. He bites my neck, causing me to yelp. “I missed you he said” “I missed you too” the words flowing out of me, my body melting like butter. “A month,” he said as he snapped his hips, causing me to moan, words falling from my mouth, “I’m sorry, ugh, please.” as you arched your back, you felt him hit the spot inside of you that will have you undone soon, I won’t do it again” you said feeling the wetness pool in between your legs as he enters you his rhythm now becoming more frantic his hips bucking into yours with more meaning then you can describe. You could feel the wind leave your body; your eyes closed, your hands still clasped wrapped around his neck as your breast bounced to the rhythm Oj was setting. You felt your thighs begin to shake as he started to hit that spot again. Your eyes began to water, your moans fell out of your mouth, and your stomach began to tighten. Oj started to moan, and his thrust became more sporadic. As Oj lowers himself, you feel him on your body more. Your chest now touches both of your warm skin, hot and dripping with lust. You felt Oj grab your leg and raise it higher. He soon was bucking his hips desperately. Your eyes began to roll as the moans kept falling from your mouth as your body tried to rise off the bed. “no more running,” he said with a grunt as he captured his lips with yours. Your body spasmed as you released, feeling the sheets damping beneath you. “Oh fuck” said Oj as he pulled out quickly and came on your pelvis area. As both of your breathing slowed down. His body is towering over yours, now removing the belt buckle from your sore red wrists. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” OJ said.

[broadraiwrites]

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you." Characters: Genevieve Warren (oc), Bryan Danielson, Daniel Garcia Pairing: None Verse: Western Mentions: Jake Hager, Angelo Parker, Ruby Soho, Chris Jericho Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Murder

The truth of the relationship between Jake Hager and his much younger wife Genevieve was the worst kept secret in the tiny prospecting town. They all heard the arguments coming from the ranch at all hours of the night. They saw the way that Genevieve cowered away from her husband when he lost a poker game at the local saloon. ‘Women don't cower away from a man like that for no reason’ they all whispered, but no one stepped in to protect the young girl. For five long years, she was the center of their gossip, but the responsibility of no one.

Until the morning they all heard that little Genevieve was being held in the jail, and her no-good husband was as dead as the townfolk’s dreams of striking it rich. She insisted that she had nothing to do with her husband's untimely demise. As a matter of fact, she had been out of town for the last several days visiting family when she came home to find Jake dead on their living room floor. Sure, she had been making plans to leave Jake, but that didn't mean that she wanted him dead!

“Please, Sheriff Bryan, you gotta believe me!” Genevieve sobbed from the bench inside the cell. “I've never so much as touched a gun in my whole life. I'm terrified of ‘em!”

Bryan eyed the petite blonde carefully from his desk in the corner of the room. “I want to believe you, Genny; truthfully, I do,” he said. Having only taken over as sheriff a few short months before, Bryan Danielson wasn't sure what to make of a case like this one. On one hand, he heard the rumors of the terrible abuse that Genevieve had suffered and wouldn't have blamed her if she had taken matters into her own hands, necessarily. On the other hand, he couldn't imagine that such a small woman could withstand the kickback of a pistol without being pushed back into the living room wall, given where the body had been found. 

“I'm sure that it was hard to live with him sometimes, Genny,” Bryan began. “Especially when he's spending so much of your household funds to go on these expeditions with Jericho and leaving you to keep the homestead running on your own for weeks at a time. No one is going to blame you if you got tired of his abuse, Genevieve. Not a soul in this town is going to blame you if you did what you had to do, but if you can't tell me the truth, sweetheart, you don't leave me with very many options here. People are going to ask me to send you to the gallows for this if we don't have the truth.”

“I am tellin’ you the truth!” the blonde woman insisted through her tears. “I wasn't home; I went up north to stash away some money with my family so that I could get out of here, so that I could get away from him!”

She glanced over to the door at the sound of footsteps, seeing Daniel Garcia enter the small one-room jailhouse. Daniel was the closest neighbor to the Hager homestead and was likely familiar with the level of abuse that Genevieve was suffering on a daily basis.

“You let that poor woman outta there, sheriff,” Daniel spoke, crossing over to the older man. “She hasn't done anything worth being locked up over.”

“Daniel,” the sheriff began, “I know none of us blame Genevieve for what happened last night, but I can't just let her go if she doesn't tell me the truth.”

“She can't tell you what she doesn't know,” Daniel insisted. 

“What exactly do you know about what Genny does or doesn't know, Daniel?”

Taking a deep breath, he glanced back at where Genevieve sat before turning back to the sheriff. The next words out of his mouth were going to change his life in more ways than one. “I couldn't take it anymore, sheriff,” he started to explain. “I could hear her crying from my porch most nights after he was done with her, and no lady deserves to be treated like that. I heard her talking to Angelo's old lady a few weeks ago about leaving town, and... I didn't want him to have the chance to track her down. So, I shot him. I just wanted her to be safe, and I care about her, Bryan. In fact, I think I love her, but if I gotta go to the gallows protecting somebody I love, at least I'll know that I did the right thing and that she'll be safe, even without me.”

[pokefossilclub]

Hey! Dreepy man! Thanks so much for the help!

I am nearing my travelling date back home, so I wanted to ask for ideas on what Pokemon I should get for my second brother.

He used to be a photographer and used to travel the world, but now he's an editor for a channel and last time I heard he wasn't... doing so well mentally. In that he doesn't necessarily take care of himself that well. He barely goes outside and he's mainly editing for the company that he's working for. So I wanted to at least give a Pokemon that'll give him at least some boost in morale.

I'm not sure on where to start, but I do know it needs to be one of those pokemon that will only tolerate one person and ONLY one person (in our home we have a ranch of Pokemon but our parents are taking care of em, not my brother), I want a Pokemon that will only depend on my brother, forcing him to get out of his room and enrich the Pokemon. I honestly might get him an egg so it can imprint onto my brother if that's the case?

I also don't necessarily want something... too demanding, something that he'll reject completely from the get-go from how hard it is to take care of so... any thoughts on what Pokemon I should get him?

Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your brother's struggles! Having a Pokemon to look after has been well-proved to help with motivation and 'getting out there', but you're right that not just any will do!

I would be perhaps wary of getting him an egg, I'm afraid, simply because if you are afraid of him deciding caring for a Pokemon is too much effort, well, freshly-hatched Pokemon require more care than an already mature individual, and an egg as an object can be harder to bond with directly than a creature with a face that can easily respond to you, so it runs the risk that he could decide to get rid of it before it hatches and he bonds! A younger Pokemon in general, however, may be a fine idea.

If you think your brother would appreciate something cute, a Vulpix could be a good option- either Kantonian or Alolan, depending on if he prefers warm or cold! They are cuddly, intelligent creatures who bond tightly with trainers, and they require regular exercise and benefit greatly from socialisation- but their care needs are not too complex, they are popular enough both as battling Pokemon and as pets that food and equipment for them is easily accessible, and they are unlikely to be so clingy that receiving care from others when necessary would be difficult. Skitty would be another similar option, without having to do any Fire-type proofing or minimise cuddles in cold weather- the Normal-type is popular as pets for a reason! However they are very high-energy, and if your brother struggles with that he may find it more annoying than endearing! Delcatty, their evolved form, would remove that potential problem, but if not bonded with early or as a Skitty they can be very independent in a way that could be counterproductive.

Should your brother not appreciate cute so much, or prefer something more unusual, I could suggest Shuppet. They are emotivores, meaning they eat emotions, usually negative ones, and it has been reported that this can help people suffering from mental illness get a better grip on emotions that could otherwise be overwhelming. They are also very sweet and social, and do not require very much bodily care, being Ghost-types. However, they may not get him out much, and if too many Shuppet feed on one singular person, that person's emotions can easily be deadened beyond what is helpful. Another non-overtly-cute option might be a Steel-type such as Klefki or Klink. Klefki are surprisingly social and intelligent little creatures, and he might find interest in collecting keys for them to keep. Klink are, despite their appearances, very curious, and love to find new things and places to interact with, trying to fit themselves and various objects into and around each other! Steel-type care is not always intuitive to newcomers, given many of them are not mammals like humans are, but there are plenty of guides out there (I can give recommendations if requested) and, at least for the two I've named, is really not that complicated!

I wish your brother good recovery from his mental health diffculties, and I hope this gives you a notion what might help him out!

[writerbythewater-blog]

A Chain Brakes

"Why am I here Pete?" It was the end of my third day at the ranch. So far all he needed was help making a pool.

"Why the rush back?" I hated that shit eating smirk of his. 

" There's no rush but, the family needs me." They did right? Nessie was still so young. She didn't understand the world, but the others were there.

"Jasper?" Peter was at my side, his eyes soft.

"I don't feel the all consuming need to go back like yesterday. Sure I miss Alice, but she can look out for herself. Where'd the pull go?" 

Char gasped where she was sitting watching us work. Her eyes filled with tears. Disbelief shook the forest of her emotional landscape. Next to me the walls of Peters fortress trembled the always open door closed. This is why I was here. 

"Walk me through it. When did the pull stop?" 

"I'm not sure. When I got here all I could think about was quickly dealing with this issue, so I could get back to Nessie. Nessie is so young, and she doesn't like us leaving the house for too long. Rose and Em even cancelled their normal honeymoon trip, so that she didn't get upset. 

Carlisle is only working one shift at a time now. He can't stand to be away from her. Esme even takes her to visit him on his hour lunch break. It makes them all so happy. 

Hell I was so worried about missing our weekly museum trip I almost didn't come, but you wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important. She's so cute riding on my shoulders asking Alice to read the signs to her. I kept wondering who would carry her if I wasn't there.

I worried if she was eating and hunting regularly. I worried about her tripping, or having trouble sleeping. She was all I could think about the first two days I was here, and now she's not. 

You said your gift was screaming, and you wouldn't lie to me. Not about that. Not when someone we care about could be in danger." I sighed sitting next to Char.

"She's why it's screaming isn't she?" My head fell into my hands.

Char wrapped her arms around me her breath shaky. Peter sat on my other side with his hand on my back. 

"I'm sorry." His emotions were so heavy.

He didn't want to tell me. He didn't want to shatter the happiness I gained with my niece. But, he couldn't not tell me.

"Do you know?"

"Nothing concrete." Remorse dripped from his words. He spent the next hour telling me everything.

He told me about Chars 180 after holding Nessie, and how time away changed her mind again. The lack of in-fighting while I was gone. His gift always screaming. 

"Maybe it's a defense mechanism to keep her safe while she's still growing?" Char spoke.

"She could grow out of it." Peter nodded.

We were all lost, but like always we had each other.

"I'll watch her. Monthly visits to see y'all should help. We'll run some tests. See if it works on me again. I'll be back in a month, and if I'm not find a way to get me here." I stood.

Returning home had always felt safe before, but now it was a battlefield. Was my niece an unwilling warden? Were we chained to the whims of a child? 

I returned to the ranch a month later. Chains still broken at my feet, but still woven around the cage I once called home.

Love had never felt so empty.

[zaenight]

CHAPTER 1

"You must be J.T. Hope." a woman asked.

"Ma'am?" the man questioned as she looked at his cowboy boots.

"Sam's expecting you, I'll

take you to your office." The woman said leading the way.

"She'll be with you in a moment." she finished.

"Morning, Mr. Hope." a woman said walking into the room,sam brookes was her name.

"What is this all about?" J.t asked.

"It's a department requirement." Sam told him.

"Every new program has to be evaluated by a qualified professional." She continued.

"A single mother from out of state?" He questioned.

"She'll be at the ranch

by the time you get back,I also understand you have a teen girl living there,with nothing but men,she might need someone to look up to." Sam continued.

"What?, and Daisy is the daughter of one of the ranch hands its different." He started to say.

"The department pays her salary,you'll have to look

after her room and board,I also saw that Daisy has a record." Sam started.

"Tagging,stealing,assualt,her father not coming into her life until she turned fourteen , must've been hard on her,

Her being around these boys ,

could make her go back to her ways." Sam explained with concern.

"You load my up with extra costs,and still you refuse to fund the program?,and Daisy

won't be an issue." J.t questioned and explained.

"We've already discussed this." Sam stated.

"I only applied for my expenses!" J.t Exclaimed.

"Prove to me that your program works,and we will revisit the subject of funding."

Sam continued.

" If your approach worked,

I wouldn't be doing this." J.t said.

"Mr. Hope, if you're so determined to work with kids, why don't you re enter the force,and work the juvenile division?" Sam questioned.

"Look, let's not start giving

each other career advice, okay?Now, I have met your requirements,I'm doing this program,I came here for my firstthree kids and I am not

leaving without 'em." J.t stated sternly.

"Fine,I'll introduce you." Sam started.

"First, we've got Booker Stokes,17 year old bipolar bully moved in the stock market,also convicted for

possession, assault in bed."

"Sounds like a real charmer." J.t said.

"No, actually that would be Ernesto Mendoza,16 year old tagger, gangbanger and car thief,who would follow you into a revolving door and come out ahead of you,I would keep him away from Daisy." She stated.

"Lastly, Kieth Frasier, 17, we busted him breaking into a pharmaceutical warehouse.

Ran the cops asses off, Mother's in jail, no father,

God knows how long he's been using,He's been here before,hasn't responded to any program or treatment yet

And like the other two,

goes straight to adult court

next time he's picked up,

I wanna see these kids back

here in exactly two weeks." Sam finished explaining.

"Two weeks?" J.t questioned.

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

"What do you want old man?" Daisy questioned.

"I told ya to stop calling me that, Need your help rounding up the cattle." Shorty said from the door of the cabin.

"Yeah, yeah im comin'." Daisy said putting on her hat.

"Hurry up now!" He yelled.

"Im comin'" She exclaimed.

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

"J.T is doing some program, now I don't want you to hang out with whoever he brings." Colt said to his kid.

"Don't tell me what to do old man!,stop acting like my father when you barely apleared in my life." Daisy said as a truck came down the trail.

"Why you little!" Colt said as she stuck her tongue out.

Shorty let out a sigh.

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

"How are you doing boss?" Shorty questioned.

Daisy noticed one boy in the passenger seat and two in the back.

She was pretty sure the two in the back were lookin' at her.

"Colt,Shorty,Daisy." J.t greeted.

"Come on out boys,line up over here,grab your gear two." He continued.

"Why don't you meet our new friends." J.t said as Daisy walked up to them.

"Im gonna enjoy this." Daisy stated seeing one of them look her up and down.

"hola nena mi nombre es Ernesto." The boy said with a smirk kissing her hand.

(Hi babe my name is ernesto)

"Well Ernesto,Im Daisy." She said with a blush.

"Alright Daisy is off limits,unless you want Colt to rip you a new one,This is Ernesto,Booker,And Keith." J.t Said clapping Daisy and Ernesto on the Shoulder.

Colt glared at the three,specifically Ernesto.

Daisy gave him a "Oh this pisses you off,well too bad imma do it anyway." Look.

"This is shorty." J.t said as the old man walked up to shake their hands,none of em' did.

Colt scoffed out a laugh.

"Daisy if you would be so kind." J.t said.

"Out here our days start at six and ends at six,What you do after that is entirely up to you,there is no leaving the bunkhouse after nine under any circumstances,make sure you take care of your buisness before than." Daisy said , the words burned into the back of her mind.

"Wait I stay in the Bunker house!" Daisy exclaimed.

"She ain't gonna be in there with em'!" Colt said.

"We'll see what we can do." J.t said.

"Ernesto wouldn't mind waking up to your beatiful face every day." Ernesto said winking at her.

"Back off boy!" Colt exclaimed.

"You back off, Old man!" Daisy exclaimed.

"Alright! now we got you some new clothes , I want ya'll to put them on." J.t said cutting the tension.

"No more of this whatever you call this here,Daisy your clothing also need to be... changed." J.t said.

"Whats wrong with what im wearing,Im not changing what im wearing all because of them." Daisy said with a glare, her plaid shirt was cropped and opened showing a black crop top,her shorts torn up almost too her thighs.

"Don't argue,I already told you about those clothes!" Colt

exclaimed.

"Yeah,Yeah,Whatever old man!" Daisy exclaimed.

"Ernesto thinks you look good." Ernesto said winking.

"I swear boy you better-" Colt started only to be cutoff.

"Why thank you Ernesto." Daisy said running her hand through her hair.

"Get a good nights sleep,you've got a busy day ahead of you,oh and keep an eye on Keith here,seems he's training for the olympic track team,reminds me of when we met Daisy." J.t stated.

"There all yours shorty." He finished as Shorty Laughed,spitting on the ground.

"Oh this is gonna be fun." Daisy clapped her hands.

-----------

[knavestrolls]

Scorpion or Frog?

{Toyhouse Link}

>[vaqueroVanquished began trolling starApocalypse!]&lt;

VV: Hey. SA: whAt~☆ VV: We need to chat. SA: this About thAt mAnipulAtor~☆ VV: Yeah. SA: we don’t need him~☆ VV: About that, I think we do. VV: We’re knee deep in musclebeast shit here, Bea. SA: you’re not~☆ VV: Tu mess es mi mess. SA: pick A lAnguAge~☆ VV: Never. VV: Listen, if this guy really does have a way to start digging us out of this shit. VV: It’s gotta be worth a try. VV: I can’t keep them delayed forever. SA: if he cAn’t then whAT~☆ SA: or whAt if he’s just here to report us~☆ SA: don’t you think vlAdir hAd a good reAson to wArn us~☆ VV: My buttercup’s all messed up. VV: Got ‘imself hogtied trying to lasso the moon. VV: He’s not thinking the straightest. SA: no shit~☆ VV: Hey watch your fucking language. VV: This shit is serious. SA: my mistAke~☆ SA: whAt does this guy wAnt in return~☆ SA: if we do let him help whAt does he gAin~☆ VV: Let me worry about that. VV: It won’t be your debt to pay but mine. SA: would vlAdir Agree~☆ VV: If it’ll save you, I don’t care. SA: you’ll pAy for this deArly~☆ SA: whAt if you lose vlAdir~☆ VV: I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. VV: But I’ve done all I can for my honeysuckle. VV: Let me help you now. VV: By letting this guy help us. VV: We’ll figure it out together, regardless of what happens. SA: if he reports us~☆ SA: i’ll murder him before they get us~☆ SA: At leAst thAt wAy i cAn forgive myself for Agreeing~☆ VV: Desperate times, desperate measures. SA: xennAA stAys out of this~☆ SA: i’m sending her to the rAnch~☆ VV: Vlad and Xens can keep each other company. SA: you’re coming in person~☆ VV: Yeah. VV: I ain’t letting you go through this alone. VV: And I don’t trust this knave yet. VV: We’re just out of options. SA: if this goes wrong~☆ SA: i just wAnt to sAy~☆ VV: Yeah, yeah you told me so I know. SA: not thAt~☆ VV: Really? VV: Well call me a shriekin goat the way you surprised me. SA: nevermind~☆ SA: i’ll tell you if we get out of this hell~☆ VV: Promise? SA: Absolutely not~☆ VV: Oh you’re sweet on me, Bea. VV: Send Xens. VV: I’ll leave to you when she gets here. SA: whAt Are you going to tell vlAdir~☆ VV: Not the fuckin’ truth that’s for sure. SA: do you hAve Any plAn to keep him from following you~☆ VV: Yeah, Xens. VV: Obviously. SA: you’re An idiot~☆ SA: tell him i need A hAnd~☆ VV: You think he’ll believe that you. VV: That Ms Ain’t Ever Need Help. VV: Needs a hand? SA: point~☆ SA: tell him i’m hAving a mentAl breAkdown~☆ VV: Aren’t you? SA: not the point, hArvey~☆ VV: Fine. SA: i’ll tell him the truth At the end~☆ SA: i promise~☆ VV: I should do it. SA: no, you reAlly shouldn’t~☆ SA: if this goes wrong i’ll tAke the fAll~☆ SA: sAy you didn’t know i’d Agreed~☆ SA: And by the time you got here it wAs too lAte to stop it~☆ VV: Fuck. VV: Just send Xens, I’m not having this talk.

>[vaqueroVaquished is offline!]&lt;

The hive is never silent. That’s to be expected of a ranch, with so many animals there’s rarely ever a truely silent moment. But the hive right now was still in a horrible way. Vladir laid asleep still on the pile of furs they’d made hours earlier. There was no sound of his lusus trampling around inside, no sound of the herd moving, and there was a lump in the bottom of his throat. Beatrx agreeing was great and all, but she had a very good point about how this would go down if it went wrong. One wrong step and they’d both be fugitives. Let alone… Harvey turns to look at his matesprit, watching the way he breathes. There’s a chance it could be the last time he sees him. Or worse, the last time he sees him at peace. There’s a real chance that Vladir will break up with him once he hears what Harvey’s done but there’s no other choice. Beatrx was in trouble, he couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. Whatever the outcome, it was too late to turn back now. Gently, he goes to wake the rustblood with a light shake. “Up and at ‘em beautiful.” Harvey’s voice was purposefully quiet, knowing that there was probably still a terrible hangover. That was it’s own fight he’d yet to win.

“Harvey? Wha’s going on?” Oh and how wonderful Vladir’s voice sounded when deepened by sleep. It takes a minute to remind himself he may not have to miss that sound before he speaks again.

“Xens is coming over. I need you to keep an eye on her- honestly I think you could both use some time together.”

“I’m not doing her yoga shit.”

“I’m not askin’ that of you sugar.”

“Why does she need me anyways? I can go to my own hive so you can spend time with her.”

“Because Bea needs me. She’s having some kind of full melt down.”

“Which means Xennaa can’t be around to see it. Got it. Give me a minute to wake up, I’ll make uh. Fuck, what time is it?”

“Just barely nightfall honeycheeks.”

“I’ll make us breakfast. You got your palmhusk?”

“Of course. I’ll keep it on me.”

“Javelina dad’s been fed?”

“He can feed himself.”

“Tell that to him.”

“Hey..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Stop feeling guilty about needing to help your totally not a moirail moirail.”

“But-"

“I’ll entertain Xennaa. You take care of the big guns. You’ve got this.”

“...Thank you, Vladir.”

“It’s weirder when you call me by name at this point.” Vladir joked before stepping in to give Harvey a kiss. It was short, sweet, and to the point. Made Harvey wonder if that sort of chaste kiss would be their last. Maybe he was just being over dramatic. “Go on, get going before things get worse.” Trust was a double edged sword and Harvey could feel it slicing him as he made his way out and to the caverns.

[fleetsummers]

with @vallaurent  | the daybreakers : leading attackers into traps, and trying not to be ensnared themselves. run, rabbits, run.

Val Laurent Oh god. -She isn't sure what she'd imagined the attack would be like, but this isn't it. Her heart is pounding up into her throat, as she presses herself as tight as she can against a wall as a trio of Daybreakers storms by, not noticing her or Fleet as they chase someone down.- Do we... Do we go after 'em? -she breathes slow in an attempt to calm herself, her voice low as she turns her eyes on Fleet- We should help 'em, right? 

fleet summers Yes. -these answers are coming faster now, with the numbers piling up under his belt: those three outside the Ranch with Zack, at least two on his own as he was moving around after Zack and him got separated -- five people whose lives had ended due to Fleet's increasingly rapid reactions- Are you armed? Do you have something with you? -he has his crowbar, tight against his back with the rifle in his hands that he'd taken from that pit-

Val Laurent I got a gun. -she feels the handgun at her side, where she'd crudely holstered it. It felt weird in her hands, but she'd have to get used to that- Zack said we shouldn't try to engage 'em, right? So I shouldn't shoot at them. Think we could try and lure them in and split 'em up somehow?

fleet summers This whole place is a trap exactly so we wouldn't have to engage them. -he knows Val knows this too, but at this point it's sort of like they're repeating what's been drilled into them as a way of steadying themselves, reasserting the plan so they don't even have to think about it or second-guess anything- The garden field. There's the bear trap and the spike board, but we'll still be in sight of each other. Maybe if we make it look like we're trying to hide in the last of the corn? They'll spot us for sure.

Val Laurent That's a good idea. They won't suspect we're lurin' 'em if we look like we're hidin. -Val's heart at least seemed to have calmed down somewhat, remaining steady, albeit quicker- Okay. Let's do this. -she tried to make her voice seem steady as she looked around the bend to make sure it was clear, before she started running in the direction of the cornfield-

fleet summers Fleet follows after a while, scampering in a panicky way but beelining for those few withered cornstalks, and he almost makes it -- two of the Daybreakers have spotted them, and one is trying to make out where Val's headed like a rabbit to the stalks while the other fixes his stare on Fleet, who freezes and then makes an arc through the broken-up soil in the direction of a trap. Before he can get there, the Daybreaker's snagged his ankle with something, and Fleet's crashing to the ground, scrabbling to get onto his back.

Val Laurent -she’d been trying to keep an eye on Fleet, as she ducked through the cornfield, her heart rate quickly jumping up when she felt the Daybreakers’ gaze on her. She kept telling herself to keep going, towards the trap, not think about anything else, not what would happen if she would get caught and- then Fleet went down. Val found herself freezing in that moment, staring at the spot where Fleet had fallen, and the Daybreaker with a rope - bolas, the word appeared in her mind - closing in quickly. Val’s blood ran cold. Her mind went blank, as she crouched there, unmoving. What should she do? Keep running? Help Fleet? How could she even help him?- Oh god, oh god, oh god. -she started running, towards Fleet, desperately trying to unholster her gun, almost dropping it in the process. The Daybreaker behind her called out when Val was a few feet away. His colleague looked up, which made Val stop. She raised the gun, pointing it at the Daybreaker, her hands trembling. She’d never killed anyone. Not a person. Someone who was still human. Her breath went hard as she kept her gun pointed, trying to urge herself to do something, anything, but - she couldn’t.-

fleet summers The Daybreaker who'd felled Fleet laughed at Val's terrified, frozen stance, dropping himself onto Fleet's back and wrenching the rifle he had to one side, twisting Fleet at the waist; he leaned his weight down, hand against Fleet's forehead to hold him down, and said, 'gonna put my brand on you, boy, so when we get you back to the factory everyone'll know exactly what it is you should be used for' and Fleet felt cold terror roll through him but something else with it: an anger that had been dormant for years, with nothing to call itself and nowhere to go. When he opened his mouth, though, it wasn't anger in his voice but tearful shakiness, as he pleaded, "Don't chase me anymore, please, I can't, it's too horrible, just do what you're gonna do with me." 

The other Daybreaker was slowly stalking up to Val, growling something at her, but Fleet couldn't spare too much attention to help, not yet. He whimpered, swallowing hard, and the one on top of him watched with a darkness in his eyes. He divested Fleet of his rifle and crowbar, raising the tool just to watch Fleet flinch and cringe, and then said, 'a rabbit tastes sweeter if you chase it down and tenderize the meat' and reached down to loosen the bolas binding Fleet's ankles. Loosen, not undo. 'run, little rabbit' the Daybreaker sneered, and Fleet started half-crawling away, clawing and kicking at the bola until he'd gotten one foot free and stood, hobbling in a desperate half-run.

Val Laurent Throughout all of it, Val was urging her body to shoot, do anything. All she had to do was pull the trigger, and maybe the Daybreaker would die and then- she heard the steps behind her and swung around, gun still pointed. "Put that down." The Daybreaker had his rifle pointed at her as he closed in, slowly as if he wasn't worried at all. "Try fighting, and I'm gonna blow your brains out. Or I'll make you wish I did, once I'm done with you. Be good and lie down, girl." Val's mouth felt dry as he stalked closer, like a prowling cat, her fingers still trembling. She heard Fleet scramble behind her, the steps of the Daybreaker following him, deliberately slowly, thudding against the ground with what she assumed was Fleet's crowbar. 

The recoil of the gun was harder than she'd expected, and she almost dropped it. The Daybreaker howled, clutching his chest, just below his shoulder. Val stared for the fraction of a second before she dashed off, zig-zagging across the field as fast as she could, in the direction of the trap. Soon enough, she could feel bullets whizzing past her, hitting the dirt behind her. One scraped her side, and she felt warm blood, but she kept running, trying not to stumble on the uneven ground as she dashed off in different directions, like a chased rabbit. Her lungs were protesting by this point - she couldn't keep this up much longer. She had seen Fleet behind her, hobbling along, but she couldn't help him now. Was the Daybreaker still chasing him? She heard the voice calling out, low, in the faint melody of a song "Run rabbit, run rabbit run run run, bang bang bang goes the farmer's gun~" 

fleet summers Fleet was fast; he was like his name, but the bolas had cracked into his shins and ankles, and every step felt like he was splintering those bones right up to his knee. Still, he kept moving, hoping to god that the shot he'd heard was Val getting away, as his own flight across the field got slower and slower and the rifle went off, the ground at Fleet's feet popping -- the Daybreaker chasing him with that blood-chilling song wasn't even rushing, hadn't shot him directly, was playing with him -- and then he was on top of Fleet again, knocking him on his back this time. And there was a pressure against his hip that took only a moment or two to become a searing pain, the barrel of the hot rifle shoved against him and scorching right through his clothes like it was on bare skin. Fleet wailed and the Daybreaker laughed, saying, 'told you i'd brand you, little bunny. now be good while i get myself a better taste' and that was all he had the chance to say because Fleet kicked up his leg between the Daybreaker's, twisting hard, that bola wrapping their ankles together and holding them close while he rolled his weight. 

That trap he'd been leading the Daybreaker towards wasn't far. It was only about five feet away, maybe even just four. But Fleet didn't try to cut through the bola tying him to the man, to keep on leading him into the trap; the rifle had gone beneath the man, and even with its hot metal burning against him the Daybreaker only had eyes for Fleet, bloodthirsty and enraged. Fleet had his hands on his crowbar now, though. And he lifted one knee to his chest, that one small bit of leverage to keep the man from strangling him, and Fleet swung that crowbar. Until he'd smashed another skull, just like his father's, the crunch of bone jarring his hands, until the man fell onto his back and Fleet could raise himself half-kneeling over him, hitting and hitting and hitting, until that skull didn't have any shape anymore. The ankle bound to his went slack and heavy.

Val Laurent The blood was rushing in Val's ears as she bolted, her heart pounding like it wanted to jump out. The Daybreaker was behind her, she could hear him thumping across the field in heavy steps, only slowed by the wound. It wasn't fatal - she probably hit only the soft tissue, like David, when he'd been shot. The grunting behind her came closer and closer, and the adrenaline of it wouldn't able to keep her going much longer. Val swerved sharp to the left, then back to the right. Behind her, she heard the thud. Hard and fleshy, and a choked howl. She turned around. The Daybreaker stared up at her, eyes wide, held in place by the spikes of the spike trap piercing his gut and chest. "No... No..." Val stared down at him, choking on his own blood, breathing hard. Her hand grasped tightly around her own gun, she bent down and pulled his away, from where it was laid out beside him, before she started walking again. 

The Daybreaker that Fleet was chasing was dead. Laid out on the ground, his head a red mushy mess. "Oh god." Val's own voice sounded distant to her as she stared down at the scene, at Fleet, covered in blood and bits of gore. "Are you hurt?" She managed to ask as she dropped to her knees and slipped the knife out of her belt. The bolas was still wrapped around their ankles but loose enough that she could fit the knife below the rope, sawing until the hemp broke. She stared down at it for a moment, then back up at Fleet. "The other one ain't dead. I didn't shoot him. He's dyin'. I got his gun so he can't hurt anyone, but I think he's still... I couldn't do it."

fleet summers "I can do it," Fleet said, still staring at the one he'd killed. The one he'd pulverized, pulped, atomized, his head a mass of nothing, just what might have been a quivering eye in a heap of rapidly greying pink stuff. Some teeth, sticking out of the gore. He wanted to throw up but instead he stood, hissing at the pain in his now-lacerated ankle, that hemp having sawn through some of it. "I can still move," Fleet assured Val, before noticing her bleeding and taking hold of her to look at it. "You're good too?" he asked, seeing it wasn't something that was incapacitating her, but it wasn't really a question. They both had to be good.

That trapped man was screaming -- or trying to, anyhow, mostly making thick wet gurgling sounds. It was like bubbles in mud. The board of the trap he'd stepped on was lying on him, the other end slanted to the side, and Fleet squared up near the man's head, most of his weight on his good food and both hands on his crowbar. "Step on that end," he told Val. "I want it lifted for when I kill him."

Val Laurent Val knew that kind of gurgling, rattling breathing. She'd heard it in the hospital enough times. Fluid, blood, filling the lungs, choking you off. It was like the breath people took just before they were about to die, those last, strained, guttural breaths, but not quite. The Daybreaker wasn't there yet. Val swallowed, stepping around him, trying to not hesitate and tremor as she stepped on it. The Daybreaker groaned as he shifted, clearly in agony. Val hoped he didn't feel a thing, in that moment. That his mind was already far off, somewhere else, just his body left to catch up. 

"Do it. Please." Val breathed, voice strained. Spit pooled in her mouth, her stomach churning. She'd watched people die, before. From walkers, and before that from whatever you could imagine. Death had been a part of her life, initially one she could leave at work, and then a constant, and now, it was this. Val steadied herself. She had to do this. She could. Fleet was there, ready to kill, and she would help. She had to.

fleet summers "Thank you," Fleet said, politely, and somewhere in the back of his head there was a hysterical shriek of laughter at him making sure to thank Val for her help in obliterating a human life, but he could deal with the screaming meemies later. Later later when they were all still alive and maybe shredded in their souls but alive. Right now there was only this, the reek of explosives and blood and ugliness and survival and Fleet brought the crowbar down on the bridge of the man's nose, to stop that gurgling breathing, to stop him from looking up at them. It was over faster this time and he took a long, unsteady step back, the crowbar too heavy for a moment, dragging at his side as he clung to it and rubbed wet blood around his face.

"You can let the board back down if you want," Fleet suggested, like Val might decide there was some other way to do this, to make it more humane, or something. The man was dead, it didn't matter. But still. He'd let her decide.

Val Laurent She closed her eyes as it came down, heard the bloody gurgling stop in an instant. When she opened them, the man was dead, his popped out eyes blankly pointed at the sky. She breathed in, slowly, then out, as Fleet offered her that. A kindness, consideration. Val took a quick step back, letting the board back down, eyes slightly widened, before she turned back to Fleet. "Lemme wrap your ankle. It ain't much, but it's gonna help stabilize it. You're gonna need it." She made her way over to him. Blood spatters covered his face, neck, his shirt, staining it red. The fighting around them seemed distant, as if it were getting less. Val didn't know if they were winning. When she reached Fleet, she wrapped her arms around him. A quick, short, hug, little more than a quick squeeze, before she let go. "The corn's gonna hide us enough if we sit down."

fleet summers The hug was appreciated, and even Fleet's automatic impulse to protest Val touching him when he was covered in blood died on Fleet's tongue in the face of loving human contact. "We're alive," he said, not knowing if it was surprise or affirmation, but then they were moving towards the stand of withered cornstalks, huddling down in it like the rabbits they'd been called. Fleet didn't bother offering any of his clothes to use as a wrapping -- Val was the medic, he'd just follow her lead -- and said, "We should get the rifle on our way back. And your gun. Do you still have your gun?" 

Val Laurent "I still got it." She hadn't even realized she'd been clinging onto it, her hand wrapped around the handle as tight as it could. She put it down on the ground, careful, like a wounded animal before she shouldered off her backpack. She'd had a go-bag since the beginning, but since Zack had come back, since Clint had been captured, she'd tried packing up even more emergency supplies. Gauze, tourniquets, blod clot powder at the top. She tugged off Fleet's boot, as careful as she could, before she began wrapping his ankle. The scrape at her own side had stopped bleeding, but she felt the pain of it, alongside the sense of exhaustion and the clamminess of her sweat. "It's less now. The screams 'n all. The gunfire. I don't know if we're winnin'." Val didn't know how many of them died, how many were injured. "We gotta keep goin'. How fast can you still go? Think you can run?"

fleet summers "I can run fast," Fleet said, automatically, because that was what you said at times like this. He heard himself and took a breath, moving his ankle slightly; it hurt, sharp stinging from where the rope had cut into him and the bola had knocked against bone, but then he said more reasonably, "I'll run because we have to." Val was working fast and efficient and he marvelled at her steady presence of mind for this; the kind of work that was her bailiwick, not like her shaking hands on that gun. This world had made killers of them. "Do you think people will stop seeing us as liabilities now?" Fleet asked suddenly, as Val was tying his ankle tight. "Do you think because we've murdered people, it'll make anybody take us more seriously? We've achieved--" Fleet's voice greened, edged with bile, "--what makes somebody a real survivor, not any of the other things we've survived?"

Val Laurent That made Val pause, mentally rather than physically, because her hands worked steady and automatically. "I don't know." She responded after a second, mechanically. She hadn't really murdered anybody. She hadn't been able to shoot. When she did, it hadn't killed the Daybreaker. In the end, Fleet had to take their lives. Wasn't she a liablity, the way she'd frozen? But she'd lured the Daybreaker into the trap. They had both made it out. Val tightened the gauze and secured it. "We've been through enough. Before this too. I think they will. And if they don't..." She offered a tired smile. "-they can bite us."

fleet summers That last comment cut through the way that Fleet felt like he was freezing and seizing up, the strange numbness taking hold of his brain, and he laughed, startled, and pulled Val into a hug. She smelled like the dirt they were in and like woodsmoke and like toast, with a sharp tang of fear, and he was pretty sure he smelled the same, felt the same, shaking against her. "Okay," he said. "I'll keep that in the back of my mind. Gonna have sooooo many people mentally biting me." He went quiet, listening to the noises around them; trailing off now, as Val had noted. "We should--" Fleet started, then put his hand down on the gun. "We should go around the Ranch and make sure there's no survivors."

Val Laurent Val smiled - not happy, tired, exhausted and worn down - when she pulled away from Fleet. "Gonna be their problem to deal with. Not yours." She patted his knee, but didn't get up just yet, staying crouched among the dried stalks of corn. It was time to get back to this. They couldn't stay cooped up here forever, after all. "Yeah. Yeah, let's do that." She took a long, deep breath as if to steady herself before she reached for her gun, her fingers touching Fleet's hands on top of it. "I can do it now. I gotta."

fleet summers They stayed there for a moment, crouched together and looking into each others' eyes, breathing fast; prey animals, Fleet kept thinking. But the blood all over them wasn't only theirs. Prey animals with fangs. 

"We can do it," he said, and then they were up, and away, the corn stalks shaking in their wake.

[hiddcnhorizcns]

jesse’s breath caught when esme leaned into his touch, her soft skin pressing against the roughness of his palm. for a moment, everything in him screamed to keep his guard up, to maintain the walls he’d built to protect himself from letting anyone too close—especially her. but the way she looked at him, with that mix of curiosity and desire, made those walls feel like they were crumbling brick by brick. she was searching his eyes, wanting to know the truth, and god help him, he almost wanted to let her see. but before he could let the weight of it all come crashing down, he felt the need to shift the moment. if he didn’t, things were going to get too serious, too dangerous—for both of them. so, with a quick breath, he let a small, mischievous grin tug at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes softened. he leaned in just a bit closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, still intimate but with a lighter edge. "well, darlin’, if i told you who i really was, you might just turn tail and run for the hills." he chuckled low in his throat, his thumb gently brushing her cheek as he spoke. "might be better for your heart if you kept thinkin' i’m just the handsome ranch hand who likes to fix fences and save damsels from gettin’ lost in the dark."

jesse stepped back just a touch, giving her enough space to breathe but not enough to break the connection between them. he tilted his head, the grin on his face widening as he added, "besides, if you knew all my secrets, i’d have nothin’ left to keep you interested. and where’s the fun in that?" he winked, that lopsided grin of his in full effect now, the tension between them still palpable but diffused with a touch of humor. the air felt lighter, though no less charged, and it gave him the briefest moment to catch his breath. "but seriously," he continued, his voice a bit softer now, but still laced with that teasing warmth. "you think i'm some mysterious outlaw, or maybe a hero in disguise? what if i told you i was just a fella who’s terrible at cookin’ and spends too much time talkin’ to horses? i mean, i know you probably think i’ve got a dark, brooding past," he smirked, "but what if i'm just bad at makin' small talk and really like moonlit rides?" the playful light in his eyes shone as he gave her a slight nudge with his shoulder, trying to ease the weight of the questions she was asking without completely pushing her away. the truth? he wasn’t ready to give it all, not yet. but for now, he could give her this—a moment where they weren’t tiptoeing around the shadows of his past, where it was just the two of them in the moonlight, caught in a dance of words that lingered on the edge of something deeper.

jesse’s grin softened as he looked down at her, his gaze still holding that unspoken intensity, but now there was something playful, something that said he wasn’t ready to let her too deep—but he wasn’t ready to walk away either. "so, what d’ya say?" he asked, leaning just a little closer, his voice a soft, teasing drawl. "you gonna keep pokin' around for my secrets, or you gonna take me up on that ride? ’cause if we stand here any longer, i might just start spillin' ‘em, and we can't have that now, can we?" the grin never left his face, but behind the humor, there was still that lingering tension. she didn’t know who he was—not really—but for tonight, he’d let her have this moment. a moment where things could be a little lighter, a little easier, before the darkness came creeping back in.

it occurred to esme that she really didn't know anything about this man in front of her, but it also occurred to her that she really didn't care. it wasn't just the fact that he was easily the most handsome man she'd ever come across in her life, and it also wasn't even the fact that the sound of his voice made her knees just a little weak. she could sense something about him, but she just couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was. strangely enough, it was the same feeling she got around her father at times. while extremely kind and loving to her, sometimes she sensed a darkness in him that unsettled her at times. she got that same feeling from this man in front of her. while he'd been nothing but outwardly kind to her, and clearly at least cared a little bit about her safety, there was just something dark that lingered behind his eyes that made her want to know more.

esme's breath caught in her throat the moment he stepped closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat emanating off of him, and every muscle in her body froze the moment he lifted his hand, not out of fear of him, but fear that if she moved, she would scare him away from whatever he intended to do. "i think i do." she whispered back, her eyes locked onto his with the same intensity as which he looked at her. she ignored the harshness in which he spoke, she knew it wasn't truly directed towards her. instead, she continued to search his gaze for the secrets she knew lingered beneath. "then who are you?" she breathed out, her eyes fluttering as his hand finally brushed against her cheek, and she instinctively nudged her face against his touch.

[switchbladedreamz]

A Dutton In Love

Requested? Nope

Summary: Rip has been meaner than usual lately. Rip Wheeler x fem!reader fluff

Warnings: mentioned female masturbation, cursing, that's it.

"C'mon Beast" I say as I lead my horse out of the stable. His black coat shining in the Montana sun, a cool breeze ever present. Standing in the left stirrup I mount my horse. "Where you headed today little lady?" Lloyd asks, resting against the gate. "Lloyd I ain't no lady, and I'm taking Beast to a trip into town, he could use the long walk.". I pat the left side of his neck, Lloyd looks up at me. "Alrighty. Well Rip wanted me to let you know that you'll be accompanying him and Kayce to the cattle auction tonight.". "Well Lloyd, congrats on the new job. I didnt know you were a messenger now. Please be so kind and tell them I'll be back before we leave.". He chuckles and walks away, shaking his head.

Its dusk as we arrive back at the Yellowstone. Beast is back in the stable, happily munching carrots that Tate is feeding him. "How was your trip to town Aunt (Y/n)?" Tate asks, giggling as Beast nibbles his palm. "Well lil buck, I gotcha somethin.". I pull out a pair of brand new leather gloves, embroidered with his initials. "Since I know you lost yours in the crik last week. Look, T.D. Now dont go losin em now, those cost me a pretty penny." He hugs me tight. "Thank you, I promise I won't lose them. I love you.". I'm takin aback but chuckle. "I love you too little buck". He runs off shouting for his dad, who turns the corner and they collide. "Woah hey, where's the fire son?" He proudly shoves the yellow gloves in his dad's face. "Look what Aunt (Y/n) got me! And they're emboideld!" "I think you mean embroidered son. Those are awesome." Kayce looks at me, a big smile one his face. Happy that at least one sibling of his loves his soon they should. "Thank you (n/n)" he mouths I tip my cowboy hat to him. "I'ma go shower 'fore we leave Kace." He just nods and leads Tate to the lodge.

The cold water hits my back, almost done finishing my shower. Being a hand on a ranch makes you sweat and heat up no matter how cold Montana can get. "(Y/n) you in here?". I hear a voice call out. Poking my head out, I see Rip standing in front of the sinks. "You almost done?" He huffs out, visibly annoyed. I ignore him and turn the water off. I open the curtain, letting him see me naked. The water droplets rolling down my body. Rip just clicks his tongue then leaves as I'm wrapping my towel around me.

Kayce is driving, Rip is in the passenger seat, and I'm in the back. Whispering to the songs on the radio. "Can you shut the fuck up?" Rip snaps at me unexpectedly. "Excuse me? No offense Mr. Wheeler, but if you're so god damn annoyed by me, why did YOU hire me? You need to pull that wild hair out your ass and talk to me like a god damn adult and not just be a dick to me. Cause I sure as hell dont know what I've done to piss you off." He just scoffs and looks out the window the rest of the trip. Kayce shoots me a bewildered look through the rearview mirror, I shrug in return. The air and the people in the truck are tense the rest of the way. And even after we get back to the ranch.

A few days have passed, Lloyd keeps trying to get me to talk to Rip. Apparently since my "blow up", he's been choppin at his bit and gettin on everyone's ass for little things. "And I mean shit, he looked damn near ready to punch Jimmy after he dropped the bottle of wound dust.". Ryan just looks at me. "What did you say?". Teeter repeats it all back to him slowly and sarcastically. "Nobody hear can understand yall. You're southerners, we're not." Ryan replies emphatically. "She's saying that I've been a dick to everyone and I'm sorry" Rip says from the doorway, startling us who had out backs to him. "Can I speak to (Y/n) alone?" People started to get out of their chairs, grumbling. Instead I stood up and headed out the front door of the bunkhouse. Rip catches up with me quickly, damn his long legs. "C'mon. We're going to my room to speak.".

"Sit. Explain." I tell him and point to the bed. I start undressing and changing into sleep clothes. "First of all, I'm sorry." He trails off, but I dont want him to have time to think of an excuse. "Sorry about?". I egg on. "I'm sorry for being a massive jerk. I saw something I shouldn't have and its been bothering me.". I sit next to him, big baggy shirt and short shorts. "Saw somethin you shouldn't've? Rip, you're one guy I know that's seen everythin. To say you've seen somethin you shouldn't've scares me I'm gonna be honest.". He just chuckles, he takes his cowboy hat and jacket off, setting them on an adjacent rocking chair. He sits facing me. "Look. What I'm about to tell you is serious, and I hope you don't look at me differently. It was an accident, I promise." "Just spit it out Rip, you're legit scarin me right now.". I laugh nervously. "2 weeks ago I was coming up the stairs, it was late but John needed to talk to Kayce and I. Well...as I'm passing your room, I decided to check up on you. See if you were doin alright. And well what I saw was...you...naked, with a vibrator and well...you- you uh..were saying my name. A lot-" "okay! I get it." I interrupted. A couple beats of silence passed. I finally mustered up the courage to ask him what I've been wanting to since I watched him leave my doorway two weeks ago. "I know. I saw you leave. I was hoping you didnt see anything. Kinda...ruined my orgasm" I huffed out awkwardly but he just laughed. "Did you like what you saw?" I asked, hiding my stupidly red face. I felt his hand grasp my chin lightly. "Look at me darlin'. You are the most beautiful creature on this god forsaken earth I have ever seen. Clothes on or not." His smile spread ear to ear. It was beautiful. Watching this man who's life hasn't spared mercy to was like watching the sunset from the biggest mountain on the ranch. Breathtaking. We leaned in for a kiss but someone clearing their throat stopped us. "Uuuugh, WHAT?-- Oh. Hi dad." I get up to go talk to him. "Hey baby girl, how'd the auction go today?" "It was good, uhm. We're talking about something important, can what you have to talk about wait till tomorrow?" I ask, hoping he'd say yes it could wait and take my time and run away into the sunset with the man I've loved since I first set eyes on him. "I've gotta talk to Rip, honey. But I'll return him as soon as we're done." Dad smiles at me but eyes say that he's sorry. "Okay, that's alright.". Rip kisses my head as he walks past me. "I'll be back for my things darlin, don't you worry.".

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 15*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You finally meet Leah!! Also, IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME. (picture some fireworks, maybe some sick guitar riff blaring, party streamers, maybe some confetti...)

Author’s Note: Word count go BRRRRRRRRRR. (almost 7k!!!)

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

I finally finished the farm’s “blueprints,” after several weeks of trying and failing to get ‘em done.  Didn’t get to try growing those parsnips — definitely will next spring — but I can at least get some corn or something to experiment with. Probably gonna be a lot of trial and error, with the severe lack of farming experience that I have. I just have to clear a few more trees before I feel confident that debris won’t fall onto and ruin the crops.

It’s still early in the day, and I really don’t want to get back to chopping yet. I could just hire Robin to give me a hand with that, no? I’m sure if I let her keep the wood, she’d help. Maybe. 

Either way, I’m gonna procrastinate by going exploring today.

I’ve only ever been up to the mountains and into the main parts of town, so I have no idea what the woods past Marnie’s ranch are like other than the path that led us all to the Flower Dance.

After gearing up accordingly, I trek south, ready for adventure... or something. I doubt it’ll be that eventful, but let me dream, damnit!

Once I pass Marnie’s farm, I notice another home hidden between some trees and bushes. It’s a cute, small cabin, just like the ones you see in fairy tales. There’s a small vegetable garden next to it, and a basket of berries sitting near the river just ahead, alongside a sketchpad and a blanket. Those look like the type of fruits that can be found around the town — whoever lives there must’ve foraged them themself. I’m super curious about its resident(s), but don’t wanna be a creep by waiting around until they come back.

I weave my way through the trees to the right of the river, and spot a tower atop the hill. Despite its immense height, it’s well hidden by the foliage of the area. 

It’s got medieval vibes, and it’s kinda creepy, but in the best way. It’s made of mossy stone, covered in vines and cracks that indicate old age, and there are some tiny white flowers growing through the crevices. I’m too much of a baby to go investigate that alone, at least for now… but something feels familiar about it. I have to quite literally urge my body in the opposite direction, to avoid making a beeline into possible danger.

Walking further south, I find out that this whole area is placed on the edge of the cliff. Below it is a long-unused beach, unfortunately covered in littered garbage. I wonder if it connects to the community beach… kinda hard to tell from up here. Maybe I’ll clean it up a bit if I can figure out how to get down there. I plop myself at the edge of the land, opting to take a small water break and bask in the scenery. 

God it is so fucking hot outside.

I peer around, and the only other noticeable features near me are an abandoned yellow house, and a real chunky tanuki, minding his own business by the entrance to the sewers. Fucking hell, I’ve never seen one of those around here. 

We lock eyes, and although I should be scared, I give the big guy a smile. Animals are friends. If I die being mauled by a tanuki, I guess that’s ok. There are worse ways to go, right?  

Fortunately, he doesn’t approach me. He simply goes back to munching on whatever he’s holding. I squint to get a better look — Is that… a whole platter of pepper poppers? I understand that it coulda been rummaged from a garbage, but like, how did he find a plate?

He’s looking off to the Gem Sea, content as ever, so I mirror his actions, my gaze eventually trailing up to the clouds. Nothing dark, which is a change of pace from the weather lately, but it’s no clear skies either.

I didn’t take my phone with me, in an attempt to ~be one with nature~ or whatever, but I forgot how bored I get with my own thoughts. At least when I wasn’t on meds for my mental health, I'd had something going on in this thick skull of mine. Usually sad, because obviously, but still. Blah blah blah, rather feel pain than not feel anything, etcetera.

As if Yoba themself heard my subconscious complaints, I hear a small “hello?” coming from behind me. When I turn around, I see no other than the friggin’ goddess Leah herself. She’s so fucking pretty. Her cropped tee fits her just right, and her overalls and boots just look so natural on her… like she belongs in some cute farmwear of sorts. 

Oh my god, please stay cool, (y/n).

I shake my head a bit once I realized I zoned out on her — the faint blush, lopsided smile, and furrowed brows being an indicator that she caught me simping — before shyly waving back to her.

“Leah, right?”

“Mhm,” she proudly hums. “It’s about time we had a chance to properly meet!” 

Her voice is like honey: thick and smooth and soothing, yet with a light rasp, as though her words are being crystallized by her vocal chords.

“I’ve been meaning to say hi, but never really had the chance,” I admit, sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck. 

Once she’s closer, I pat the ground next to me with a subtle eyebrow wiggle, hoping my invitation to hang around is clear. She grins and obliges, placing the basket of herbs she was holding on the dirt beside her.

“No worries. I’m sure taking over that old farm has been pretty hectic for you.”

“Tell me about it,” I groan. “I’ve been working so hard, yet I’ve barely scratched the surface of what needs to be done.”

“God, I feel that.” 

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“I’m an artist,” Leah responds. She almost looks embarrassed to say it. “Not a successful one, but I’m scraping by.”

“That’s sick, though! I’d love to see your stuff.”

“It has its perks, but ‘starving artists’ are the stereotype for a reason,” she says, shrugging. After a beat she goes, “Y-you wanna come take a look at some of my work? My house isn’t far. I’m sure you passed it on the way down here.”

“Hell yeah, let’s do it!” I think to myself how obvious it is now that the super aesthetic cottage I’d passed is hers. It’s so fitting for her. While getting up, I spot the tanuki from the corner of my eye. “Do you know what’s up with that fella over there?”

“Oh, he is great.” Her eyes sparkle as she continues, “I came across him while foraging last spring, when I first got here. He was still small, so I practically raised him from then on, with Marnie’s help of course. You probably know how she gets with animals.”

I nod when she looks to me for confirmation. I’ve been hearing a faint sound of something tumbling along the ground since we started walking, and I just noticed now that it was a stone Leah’s been kicking along.

“He’s a friendly lad,” Leah beams, “I named him Tony! Tony the Trash Bear.”

I laugh at the name, “I get the trash bear part, but why Tony?”

She shrugs. “I just think he looks like a Tony. Doesn’t he look like a Tony?”

Eyeballing him, I see exactly what she means. “Totally looks like a Tony.” 

“Thank you!” She rolls her eyes, “My friend Elliot thought he looked more like a Remington.”

“That’s so… proper.”

“Too proper.”

“Far too proper... But, a good middle name, maybe?”

Leah beams. “Oh my god, you’re so right!”

She surely seems strong and confident, but has a clear softer and more nerdy – maybe even nervous? – side that’s absolutely adorable to discover. I wonder if she’s just like this with strangers. Maybe some more self-assurance comes once she gets to know a person. Or, maybe she’s just great at presenting herself to be a fearless, rustic queen. Maybe I’ll find out the truth someday…

For fuck’s sake. I sound like an alien trying to discover how humans work for the first time. 

Getting to Leah’s house from our spot took less time than I’d expected, being that she guided me through a bit of a shortcut I hadn’t noticed earlier: A bunch of wooden platforms strung across the small islands within the river, supposedly put there by Robin. When we arrive at the destination, Leah scoops up the berries, book and blanket in her front yard, bringing them indoors with us.

Upon stepping inside her abode, I’m wafted with the scent of freshly cut timber, and what smells like a soup. God, I’m hungry. 

There’s crumpled papers and splatters of various colored paints littering the wooden floorboards, and her walls are lined with both finished and unfinished paintings. Off-centered to the west side of the room is a wooden figure of sorts that stands about as tall as Leah is. The whole place is exactly how you’d expect an artist in the middle of a forest’s cottage to look.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologizes, “It’s hard to keep a studio tidy when it’s this small.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s cozy in here.”

I want to ask what she’s cooking, but don’t want to intrude too much — luckily, she heads to the right, waving me to follow along into the small kitchen. Leah turns on the sink to rinse dirt off the herbs she had with her, opens a slow cooker, and begins plucking, ripping and crumbling some leaves into the mixture below her. 

“My mom mailed me her old Crock Pot the other day, and it is so rad. Have you ever used one of these things?”

I nod eagerly. “I miss having mine so much. I sold it before coming here so I’d have less transport, but when I was in Zuzu, I’d leave it running while I was at work almost every day.”

“It’s so good for that sort of thing!” she replies. Such a mundane adult topic, being hyped over kitchen appliances… but she’s gleaming with an infectious, childlike excitement. “I didn’t realize you were from the city too. I moved here from there about…” she thinks for a short moment, before it dawns on her, “A year ago this month, actually!”

“Oh, seriously? Which area?”

She grinds some black pepper in as she answers, “My ex and I rented a place together Uptown. It was a bit too bustling for me, but she was covering most of our rent, so I shouldn’t complain.”

“No, I totally get you. My office was there, it felt like a fucking war zone coming and going.” I roll my eyes as she knowingly chuckles. 

We continue to reminisce on our crappy times in the city as Leah adds some new spices to her food and gets started on cleanup. She didn’t always live in the city, having moved there from East Scarp in her late teens for art school. Missed the countryside the whole time she was gone, which makes total sense. I could never see her as a city gal.

Leah grabs a clean spoon from a nearby drawer and dips it into her concoction, giving it a taste. She moans at the flavor, naturally bringing a blush to my face. She still hasn’t looked up, and is dipping her spoon back down for more, so I don’t think she’ll notice it — that is, until I’m met with the spoon coming towards me, and an excited “You absolutely have to try this! Are you allergic to anything?”

I’ve gotten better with people since moving to the valley, but my timid habits still creep through sometimes. The idea of some really cool and pretty lady who I barely know, reaching out to try and feed me, is bringing out those old jitters.

I shyly shake my head “no” and take the spoon from her, hoping she doesn’t mind that I rejected her more… direct approach. Holy moly this stuff is good. I don’t even notice the heat on my cheeks anymore as I melt away alongside the spices, veggies, and legumes in my mouth, accidentally mirroring Leah’s earlier reaction. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she winks, taking back the utensil. I slowly, firmly nod my response.

If she saw me blush, she does me a favor by not commenting on it. I notice some red on her cheeks too, but chalk it up to the heat from standing over the hot stew.

“I’ve been trying to perfect this recipe all week, I think I’ve finally got it down.” I nod in agreement, she lowers the device to a lighter simmer, and she directs me into the other room. 

“C’mon, I’ll show ya some of what ya came here for.” Leah carries herself towards the wooden sculpture, giving it a hearty pat when she arrives. “Honestly, I’m in kind of a rut. This is all I’m doing at the moment… It’s not much, but it’s getting there.” 

Closing the gap between myself and the sculpture, I reach up a hand and look towards Leah, seeking permission to touch the art. After a sparkly-eyed look of appreciation and nod from her, I run my fingers along the grain, amazed at how smoothly she’s carved each bend in the piece. 

The wood’s been stripped in most spots, leaving its age visible to all. The divots and rings within the lumber tell a story as old as time, one that no human can quite understand. I can’t really understand the form she’s carved out either — it’s a bit abstract — but I’m sure there’s more meaning to it than what meets the eye. 

“It’s beautiful,” I mutter. Smiling in her direction, I’m met with her gaze, paired by a gigantic grin plastered across her face.

“I’m glad you think so,” she admits, “I was starting to lose hope on this damn thing. My ex was never too supportive of my art, and nobody out here really gets it either, so it’s nice to— shit I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m rambling.” She laughs, but refuses to meet my eyes.

“You could, like, hold an art show or something,” I suggest. “I’m sure the locals would be more supportive if they could see more of your stuff.”

Leah looks at her sculpture, seemingly in thought. “That might not be a bad idea…”

With a little more encouragement, Leah decides to go and talk to Lewis about the concept right away — “Before I chicken out,” she declared. First, she packs up a small tupperware of her stew, and insists I take it.

_________________

I shamelessly whip out a spoon from my kitchen and dig into Leah’s cooking as soon as I enter my farmhouse. I grab my phone off its charger and take a seat on the bed, right next to Cannoli, who’s sound asleep. I’d planned on scrolling through social media for a bit, still not really being in the mood to be productive.

Fortunately, it seems I’ll be having more exciting plans, as long as I’m not too late!

Sebastian > yo

Sebastian > Victor’s on his way to visit, and we were planning on playing some Solarian Chronicles but Sam isn’t around to be our 3rd

Sebastian > you in?

He sent that over an hour ago. I wouldn’t blame him for not waiting up.

< sorry, just saw that

< what time? 

Sebastian > be here at 3ish?

< okヽ(´▽｀)/

I have this binder full of OC’s that I’ve designed over the years. Started it when I was, like, 12, and I’ve kept it going ever since. I dig it out of the box it was in, underneath my bed — it’s just filled with miscellaneous shit that I couldn’t really store anywhere else — hoping I have some for Solarian that aren’t too embarrassing. 

I flip through, and pick out one character sheet for each class, just in case. I usually like being a healer, but I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

I opt to head out with more than enough time to spare, making up for that by taking the long way to Seb’s house. If I go into town and up past the community center, I’ll have some new scenery to look at instead of the usual forest around me. 

When I get to Seb’s, Robin isn’t around, but Maru makes eye contact with me from her lab. She’s a nice girl, but way too smart for easy conversation. I give a quick wave in response to her’s, and escape right down to the basement.

It sounds quiet… too quiet. Maybe that Victor guy isn’t here yet.

I knock, ya know, as one does. 

And almost immediately, Seb opens the door and quite literally pulls me inside, prompting a squeak. 

After quickly shoving the door shut behind us, he nudges me back against it and hungrily chases after my lips. This is super unexpected, but I happily go along with it. I’d very obviously be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the hell out of this.

The only noises in the room are our heavy, uneven breathing, and the sound of our lips smacking together. When his tongue swirls around mine, I feel like I could fucking faint. Yoba, I’m already worked up. I take his face in my palms and push back a little, desperately needing oxygen.

“Hi,” I laugh.

“Hey,” he lilts, sounding completely unaffected. That bastard.

We stand there for a sec, our eyes roaming the other’s face as we both catch our breath. I giggle, he smirks, and I throw my belongings onto the couch, not wanting to lose sight of the view. I reach my face back up to his to close the gap once more — the only acceptable time to not be looking at the beautiful man in front of me. 

His hands roam down to the outsides of my lower thighs, and he cups and squeezes around them, hinting for me to jump. I oblige, and wrap his legs around his torso while he repositions into a better grip, pressing my back against the door with his whole body. 

“Vic’s train doesn’t get here ‘til like 4,” he utters between kisses, “I hope y’don’t mind.”

I smile against him, “Felt greedy for my time, huh?”

“Well,” his lips trail down to my neck. “You’ve been harder to resist with every passing day.” He bites lightly, earning a moan in response. I feel him smile against my skin, before kissing it better and lifting his head to meet my eyes. “So if you don’t mind, (y/n),” he kisses the corner of my mouth before pulling back again. “I want to feel, and kiss, and taste every single inch of you while we finally have the time.” 

Shit, I think to myself, feeling goosebumps coat my body. I just know I either look like I’m in shock, or like I’m about to unravel from his words alone. Maybe both? Fuck, the basement feels hot today.

“Please,” Seb adds. He grins, widely, his beautiful eyes glimmering with innocent hope.

Completely contradictory to the matter at hand.

I chuckle and shake my head, blushing madly, and rub my thumbs across his cheeks. “Such a gentleman.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Impatient, too,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes and dips back down to my lips, kissing me roughly for a few moments. 

“I refuse to take this any further…” He lightly wraps a hand around my neck, lips brushing mine as he speaks. I tighten my thighs around him to help hold myself up. “…until I know that you want this.” 

Seb presses his forehead to my own, his eyes boring into mine as he closes his hand just a bit more. I mewl softly at the sensation, closing my eyes to prevent any further embarrassment from creeping up on me.

“Seb, please.” God, I sound like such a loser.

I lower one of my hands from around his shoulders and clasp the wrist that he's holding to my neck, using it to push more of his weight onto myself. I open my eyes, but they only trail as high as his mouth — the smirk he’s wearing is enough to indicate that I can’t do eye contact right now. No way in hell.

“Please what?” He feigns innocence as he eeever so slightly grinds against me. I shudder out a weak breath.

Then, I groan, frustrated, and struggling to formulate full sentences apparently.  

“Just fuck me already,” I whimper, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

“Naughty little thing,” he smugly stabs before rushing back to my lips. I don’t mourn the lost opportunity of a jab back at him. There are more important things to be doing right now.

Without separating our kiss, his hand moves from the front of my neck to the back of my head as he carries me away from the door. When we get to his bed, he lets us fall together to the mattress, his body still slotted between my legs. 

Seb pins my hands above me to absolutely ravage my neck and collarbone in love bites without interruption. My right mind is telling me to make him stop, so that I don’t have to waste as much makeup covering it up. The adrenaline coursing through me and heat spreading to my lower body are screaming at me to let him keep going though.

I mentally thank myself for wearing a skirt today as he releases my wrists and hikes it up, allowing himself access to my panties. They’re plain — just some black cotton with white stitching along the edges — but at least they’re not ugly. 

Without removing my underwear, Seb slips his fingers under the part of the waistband that’s hugging my hips. I think he’s just testing the waters, until he roughly grips a fistful of my soft flesh in each hand, kneading my sides. I instinctively follow his touch, rutting my hips against him, only stopping when he forcefully holds them down. 

“Nuh-uh,” he sings. 

“You’re no fun,” I rebuttal.

As if out of spite, he scoots back and tugs me towards the edge of the bed. He then moves his dominant hand from my hip and pushes my panties aside. 

“Yeah?” he questions, lightly grazing my clit, and then way too easily sliding a finger inside of me. My eyes roll back at the sensation as I choke down a moan. “Looks to me like you’re having a blast.”

“D-don’t ruin this, nerd,” I pathetically stutter out.

By the time our mouths have met again, he’s already sliding in a second finger. “Fuck,” I breathe out. He’s driving me completely insane. I whisper and curse Seb’s name against his lips, my eyes screwed shut.

“Doesn’t sound like I’m ruining anything.” 

As I lose myself in bliss, he lowers himself down to directly face my core. His breath on my inner thigh is the only indicator that slaps me into reality again.

I look down through dazed eyelids, watching the hand that was holding me down stray to my thigh, and eventually out of view. In the process, Seb continues working his magic, peppering open-mouthed kisses everywhere but where I want him. His fingers are still pumping away in me, although they’re stuttering a bit now. 

The next thing to rush my senses is the sound of Seb’s belt unclasping and his zipper being undone. Feeling flushed with embarrassment, but also like I’m going to melt into a puddle on his sheets if I keep watching, I lay down fully and cover my face with my arm. As if to reel my attention back to him, Seb finally puts his mouth to use. He slowly — so painfully slowly — swipes his tongue from my entrance to my nub, eliciting a guttural whine from my fucking soul that’s only muffled by my arm.

As his tongue dances around me, he satisfactorily hums. The occasional purr as he studies my reactions reverberates through my body, making it harder to maintain a… decent? composure as he works his fingers into my sweet spot. I need him badly, but when I try to tell him that it comes out a jumbled mess.

“I, fuck, I nee—,” I desperately try to plea for what I’m craving as I lean onto my elbows. “Sebash— ahh, fuck!” 

Seb knows exactly what I want, and I can tell by the heated, smug gaze he’s boring into me. Everything about this is so hot. His absurdly beautiful face between my legs is possibly the greatest thing I’ll ever lay my eyes on. A genuine work of art. 

He chuckles against me, and I notice that the other hand still isn’t in sight, but it’s definitely moving. ..

Holy shit, he’s touching himself while touching me, isn’t he? 

That’s so cool!

I try to ground myself by weaving a fist into his hair, originally planning on pulling him away so I could use my words. To tell him how badly I want him to just stuff the cock he’s touching inside of me until I can’t think straight. But, the slight moment of added pressure sends a chill down my spine that I can’t resist, and I press him down harder, trying to make as close contact with Seb’s fingers and mouth as I possibly can. 

Subconsciously grinding my hips onto him, I grip the sheet with my free hand and let my head and eyes roll back while my spine arches, my little death hitting me like a fucking train. I’m not sure what nonsense I’m sputtering, but it’s enough to signal him to finish the job. On the come down, I simply lay limp. Breathing heavily. Having just had the best orgasm of my life, courtesy of the sexiest person I’ve ever met in my life. 

With a cute, swift kiss to the lips he’s been tending to, he comes back up to meet my face, kissing those lips too. God… I’ll never get tired of all the kissing we do, no doubt. But there’s something far more exciting about tasting myself in a kiss from someone who I’m this head over heels for. 

I assume his dick is out, so I trail my dominant hand down from his neck to his covered chest, and finally to his exposed groin. He just barely pulls away from the kiss, his smile ghosting just above my lips.

I still have yet to see him without pants on, so I had no idea how groomed or un-groomed he is down there. Feels smooth, but a little prickly in some spots. Must’ve been a rushed shave, or maybe a day-old one. Or maybe he just needs a new razor. I don’t go for the gold yet, just teasing my fingers around the general area first. 

“Fuck, dude,” he laughs. Sounds breathy. Good.

“What’s up?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he playfully commands. “Tease…”

I look down between us, curiosity getting the best of me. For fucks sake he is huge. Long? Sure, but I already knew that from the picture he sent me. But Yoba, he’s packing width-wise too. 

Without clasping my hand around him just yet, I softly touch around the base, right where it connects to his body. I can’t help but admire him, the whole damn thing is as pretty as he is. That’s definitely a rare find: an attractive dick.

I must’ve gasped audibly, or stared too long, or done something embarrassing, because Seb softly and menacingly sings my name to grab my attention back. Feeling myself blush, I meet his eyes. I wrap my hand around him, fingertips just barely out of reach of one another, holy shit. Is he even going to fit? He inhales sharply through swollen lips.

A stupid thought comes to mind. “Heheh.”

“Hm?” he questions, sucking in his bottom lip. 

“I get why you’re so cocky now.” I’m hilarious.

“Wow, I hated that.” Booooo.

“Oh, you know I’m funny.”

I remove my hand to gather some of the wetness from myself, utilizing it to glide my fist along Seb’s shaft more smoothly. I’m tempted to look down again, wanting to see what my hand looks like wrapped around him, but my eyes don’t dare to leave his face. 

His cheeks have been tickled pink by my touch, his pupils are blown wide, I can feel the unevenness of his breath against my lips. I’m totally bewitched. I find the sensitive vein just below his tip and lightly rub my thumb against it, and Seb hums with pleasure in response. Holy shit he’s so hot.

I nudge his shoulders a bit, prompting him to lay down, which he quickly obliges to. I’m about to lean down to return the favor he gave me a few moments ago, but he pulls me atop him instead. 

The moment I’m straddling him, Seb begins lifting my skirt off of me. I let him, taking my top off just after. His hands wander from my hips-upward, eventually stopping just outside of my boobs.

Before he can get permission to feel — which would be redundant because of fucking course he can, he can touch me in any way he wants at this point — I remove my bra. I don’t have the nads to make eye contact, being more exposed to him than I’ve ever been, but I coax his hands to my breasts, yearning to know what his hands feel like around them.

Seb takes the back of my neck in one hand and pulls me down, forcing me to look him in the eyes as he kneads me. I kiss him hard to overpower my nerves, and because I’m just desperate for more of him. He goes right for my nipples in response, pinching and twirling them between his fingertips. I know some people don’t have much feeling in that region, and I thank Yoba above that I wasn’t cursed in such a way, because this feels so fucking good. 

I grind my clothed core against his cock, teasingly humming, and studying his reaction beneath lazy eyelids. He tilts his head back, whispers a curse, and halts my hips again.

“Take those off,” he orders. 

Without leaving my spot, I follow Seb’s instructions, finagling my underwear out of the way. It’s far less than graceful, but I don’t care. Once I’m fully undressed, I don’t fully lower myself straight away. I tug at the waistband of his pants and boxers instead. He’s exposed, but I want to see all of him.

“You too.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

He — also ungracefully, might I add — kicks off his bottoms, as I help him remove his tee. I trace the barely-there abs on his tummy with my fingers while I hover over him. I wonder if he works out when he’s not coding or whatever. Oo! He doesn’t have any new scars, at least that I can see, which I smile at.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, snapping me out of my trance and sliding his hands up and down my form.

I’m flustered by the sudden attention put on me. Seb practically worshiping my body is making me painfully aware that I, in fact, exist. I don’t really know how to respond, and my innate reaction is to laugh nervously and turn my head to the side. As if that’ll hide me and my bare body adequately. I see Seb tilt his head a little from the corner of my eye.

“I mean it, (y/n),” he whispers, gently pulling my upper body down onto him, our faces just barely separated.

“You,” he removes a hand, and I feel him rub his tip against my cunt. I whimper at the contact, still overly sensitive from before.

“Are so,” he nudges himself just barely inside of me, forcing a deep breath from us both. 

“Perfect,” he shakily growls, as he lowers my hips down onto him. Slow enough that I can adjust to his size, but not too slow.

Mother of Yoba. 

I’m shocked he fit inside in one snug squeeze, but I couldn’t be more satisfied with it. I ride him slowly for the first few pumps, getting myself familiar with what I’m working with here. Then halfway back down, I stop moving, feeling my hips tighten. Fuck, already? I subconsciously grimace as I continue stuttering my way down.

“Everything ok?” Seb asks in a hushed tone. 

“Yeah. Uh, I’m actually not like…” I take a sec to think of the best words for this. “Super… mobile when it comes to this.” I stuff my face in the crook of his neck to hide my shame. I can’t believe a ridiculously sexy guy is inside of me, and I can’t even throw it back for him. Feels like such a wasted opportunity…

Plus, he’s fucking laughing. Yoba kill me now.

“Fuck you,” I mumble into him. 

“Already working on that,” he chuckles. I’m fully lowered now, doing nothing more than cockwarming at this point, but I’m too nervous to move again. “Hey.”

I groan in response. I feel his hands move from my body to my warm cheeks, and he pulls. 

Looking into his eyes as my own are threatening tears, I notice that he seems cool as a cucumber. Doesn’t help my raging insecurities one bit. But then, without any warning other than some slight repositioning of our bodies courtesy of Seb’s hips, he pulls out almost all the way and immediately rams himself up into me, full force.

“Ahh!~” My eyes widen, still staring into his as I moan, loudly. The tears that were forming from prior embarrassment escape my ducts with the new sensation.

Keeping one hand on my cheek, Seb lowers the other down to my butt, propping me up in a comfortable, kneeled squat as he continues thrusting. He keeps it there for support.

“Just lemme take care of you then, ok?” he asks, although it comes out as more of a statement.

I can barely process his words, simply nodding before resting my forehead on his.

“Are you comfortable?”

I nod, a desperate “Fuck, yes” escaping my lips to reassure him. I think that he tries to respond, but it comes out as more of a growl instead. 

Clearly not planning on slowing down unless I say the words myself, Seb continues to fuck into me hard.  My knuckles whiten as I grip the sheets on either side of him for dear life, barely able to fathom how… enlightening of an experience this is. The sound of his hips slapping my ass is embarrassingly loud but Yoba I do not care about that right now. I never knew I could feel so full.

“Fuck, Seb, you’re so big,” I strain out. “S-so fucking good.”

“And you’re taking it so well,” he praises after slipping out a cocky laugh. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, tugging my hair so that I meet his eyes. 

I didn’t even notice that my head had drooped back down to his shoulder at some point. A whimper slips out of me as I listen to his sweet words, struggling to keep my eyes from rolling back shut. A few wordless moments pass before Seb slows to a halt, and taps his knuckles against my ass. 

“Lay on your back.” 

I do as he says, like a good girl. I’m a little upset to have the previous position taken away, as it was pure fucking bliss, but I’m excited for the change of pace. Once I’m in a comfortable spot against the mattress, I urge him down to me, feeling needy for his lips. He indulges. Like a good boy. 

Not seeming to want to break away from the kiss just yet, he grinds his dick along my folds. I reach down, desperate for more, pressing him closer to me to cover more surface. I take further control of the situation, gripping him fully and caressing his tip on my clit.

We moan in unison, but Seb is the one to deliberately break away from my mouth so he could let it all out. Music to my fucking ears. A shit-eating grin plasters me as I giggle with pride, but a hauntingly beautiful glare from my partner shuts me up.

He props my ankles up on his shoulders and slams back inside of me, all in one fluid motion that comes so suddenly. I shout, surprised by the sudden contact to a new angle, and he strongly cups a palm over my mouth. 

Sporting an evil grin, Seb leans down, hovering his face over mine while pounding into me. My unnatural flexibility might be the direct cause of why my joints are so rickety at the ripe ol’ age of 26, but god it comes in handy sometimes. I’m basically folded in half.

“What’s so funny, darling?” 

I shake my head as if to wordlessly answer “nothing, oh my god, just keep doing exactly what you’re doing.” I roll my eyes back with a stifled mewl, intoxicated by the 180-switch from soft dom to completely taking control of me.

“Thought so,” he lilts. 

Seeming to take note of my reactions, Seb strengthens his grip in the hand on my hip, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks for sure. I laugh again under his hand, this time with hysterical pleasure. And oh my god, he loves this. He’s cracked the code. He knows damn well that his dominance over me is something I welcome, and the pride he feels as he succeeds to indulge me is written across his features. 

As he straightens back up, he removes his palm, only to replace it with a forefinger curled under my chin and his thumb against my lips. Gazing up at him with clouded vision, I open my mouth and he slips the finger in, allowing me to suck and moan around it. He looks absolutely thrilled.

“Oh, that’s so hot, holy shit.” He’s keeping his composure well, but I can see in his brows that this is breaking him. 

My next orgasm is rapidly approaching, and if his stiffening cock inside of me says anything, so is his. “M’gonna cum,” I gasp around his finger. He moves it out of the way, cupping my cheek sweetly instead as I beg him not to stop. 

Seb chuckles at my desperate pleas, but I don’t even care. Too blissed out. He opts to comfort me while I tighten around him, “I’m not stopping baby, I’ve got you.” 

My back arches as I accidentally claw at his torso, gripping onto anything I can. Feeling like I’ll float away if I don’t. I can tell by the soreness in my throat that I’m being loud, but all my ears can hone in on is the soft, satisfied “Mmmmfuck, that’s my fucking girl” that Seb murmurs to me. As if his reassurance is my green light, I absolutely crumble beneath him.

“S-shit, get on your knees?” he grunts just after I finish.

A sighed “mhm” is all I can manage. I thought you’d never ask, I think to myself as I promptly kneel onto the dark rug below his bed. His own hand is doing all the work as he grips some of my hair for support, so I simply open wide, push my boobs together with my arms, and try to look pretty. Well, as pretty as I can, being sweaty and out of breath from my own climax.

It must’ve worked, because—

“Fuuucking hell, (y/n),” he moans, his warmth landing mostly on my tongue as he rolls his head back and spews out some more curses. Some of it gets on my cheeks and chest, but that’s fine by me. 

It’s like I’ve been personally baptized by Yoba. And Yoba is Sebastian’s cock.

I swallow once he’s finished, lean forward to kiss his well-worked thighs, and pick myself up. My legs don’t know how to move, so I promptly fling myself back down onto the bed.

“Holy shit,” I mumble, staring at the ceiling while he searches for a rag. He flicks on the light in the attached bathroom, and I hear the water run. Guess he found one. 

God, I could die right now. I’ve never been positively railed like that in my life. I close my eyes and just wait patiently for Seb to come back, hoping I don’t fall asleep. Hoping I can get my shit together by the time Victor gets here. 

“I’m glad I could deliver,” he muses, laying beside me to help me clean up. Leaning into his touch, I just nod. He presses a kiss to my forehead. 

“I’m gonna go out on a whim here, and admit that I never doubted you.” I tell him. “In terms of like… you know. Fucking.” Obviously.

“So supportive.”

“Yeah, whatever, ya wad.” I curl up beside him, and he wraps an arm around me. I let out a deep sigh. “How much time ‘til Victor gets here?”

“Already thinking about other guys?”

“Sebastian I swear to fuck—“

“Not long.” He grins as he's cutting me off. “We should probably start trying to look presentable. I told him we’d pick him up.”

Ugh. I just nod, planting a smooch on his wrist before standing up. I make my first attempt post-fuck to walk. I think I’m managing, until I hear snickering behind me.

“What, Seb?”

“You're looking a little wobbly.”

Knowing he's right, I flip him off, before continuing my endeavor of pretending I didn’t just get fucked out of my mind.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#248

“C’mon in. Have a seat. David? Right? It’s weird calling you by a real man’s name, after spending a whole weekend calling you ‘Cunt’ and ‘Fag’ and ‘Shit Head’. Don’t be surprised if I slip up and start calling you that again. But you, you keep calling me ‘Boss.’ When I offered you this job last Sunday, it was after one hell of a wild weekend fucking your brains out. Is your cunt still gaping or did it snap back into place?...

“You look surprised. Well let me tell you something. I love using faggots like you. Fuck, I don’t hide that fact at all. I wouldn’t have offered you this job unless I knew you could take a pounding from my nine-and-a-half-inch baseball bat of a cock. And while it is not expected of you as part of your job responsibilities around here, I will be slamming into your cunt whenever I want. I saw that look in your eyes when I told you I had an opening here. You were already fantasizing about submitting to your boss. I know you were. I’ve seen it with dozens of fags before. Yeah, I offer jobs to freshly fucked tricks. I have always liked fucking with men, especially on the job site.

“After my wife died eight years ago, my 1,200-acre ranch seemed empty. The oil drill on the northside has me swimming in money. But I wanted fag cunt. I need to use it. I created this warehousing business with one thing in mind, satisfying my cock. I looked to have a dozen or so men that could walk up to any one of them and say I need a blowjob, and I would get one on the spot without worry of a sexual harassment charge. Or to walk through the warehouse and see a new employee getting spit roasted. And it all feels normal.

“From your test run this past weekend, I know you can swallow me, with difficulty, but still manage. You drank my piss, so I know you have done that before. You spent hours eating my ass. I can’t remember the last time my shithole was treated with so much love. Your cunt put up a fight, but by Sunday night, you had one hell of a gape. You even bled a little on that first fuck.

“Wanna see?... I took this photo when I told you to push out some of my load. Here, take it. Yeah, I like taking pics of freshly used cunts. I bet you haven’t ever seen your hole blown up on a twelve-inch glossy. Look at the detail. You can see specks of your cherry. I know you weren’t a virgin, but you were a virgin to me. That’s what matters. And this isn’t some sort of blackmail thing where we keep this a secret.

“Hell, every one of the workers there will know I bred your cunt. You wouldn’t have gotten this job without first having my load in your ass. Every one of the guys you will work with in the warehouse has had my load in his cunt. Every single one! All fourteen of them. You are number fifteen. In fact, Mark, the cute puppy you met when you came in has my morning’s load in his ass right now.

“I have known Mark the longest. He and I go back a long way. We designed this place, and he’s the one who helped me set things up so that I won’t get into trouble. He’s the only one who interacts with the public, if anybody should come by which they never do. I say that because the warehouse is around back. That’s where you will be working not up here. Let’s go take a tour of that. But first, Mark would kill me if I don’t ask you, you want the job knowing what you know?... Good. I would have been surprised had you said no. We have contingencies set up should an employee not want work in such an environment. But I know how to pick ‘em. He hee.

“Grab that pic of your leaking cunt and bring it with us. We’ll go out the back. The warehouse is purposely a few hundred feet from the office. Mark suggested that. He really keeps me honest when it comes to all this shit. In the warehouse, clothing is optional. For the most part, no one wears anything. I have asked the two managers to wear a wife beater to differentiate themselves from the others. The real reason is that they are built like brick shithouses, and they look great in a tank. Hector, the manager you will be reporting to wears a black one and Aaron, the other one wears white. Don’t know why they do that, but they do. If I’m going to be in here for a short time, I just haul out my cock and balls only, otherwise I’m naked from the waist down.

“You had indicated that you are in temp housing in town. I told you that I have housing on property. Those three buildings back there are it. Hector and Aaron each have one, and the large bunkhouse is for any of the other workers. During your probationary time, you will be living with Hector. If you loved my cock, you’ll love his. He’s more into cock worship. The final thing before we go in is compensation. The job you are hired for really only requires 15 to 20 hours per week, but you will be paid for 40.

“Hector and Aaron will make sure you do your share of the actual work. That leaves 20 hours or so to play with the others. It doesn’t have to be all sex, but have fun. The hourly rate is three times what the job normally goes for. You will be provided with a room if you want. You get half the work, three times the pay, a place to stay, and all the cock you can handle. The only thing you give up is your privacy. Now, you are not tied here; you can go into town on your own time. But when you are here on property, you will be expected to comply with the rules. Hector will go over all that.

“Inside and to the left are the locker room and showers. That locker at the end is yours. It’s the smallest, but you are the one with the lowest seniority. Go ahead and strip down. I’ll go get… never mind here he is. Hector this is Dan,… or David or whatever the fuck his name is. Fag, this is Hector, although he’s going to insist you call him ‘Sir’. Look at those muscles! They make his cock look average sized. But fuck that cock of his is just as fat as mine. It’s going to be in your ass in a few minutes. We always break in the new employees the same way, a gang bang. No, don’t put your boots away. Everyone wears theirs as they work. There’s no lock on your locker. Don’t worry about it….

“Hector, are the guys ready by the wall? Good. Good…. Fag, around this corner is the break room. Across from it, see where the guys are standing? That’s what we call the wall of cunts. See the pics there? They are the assholes of every man here. Everyone has my load leaking out, except for that one on top. That’s my shitter. Hector and Aaron’s are in their own row underneath me. You are going to be very up close with Hector’s every night. Everyone else’s is below. I like to think of it as an org chart of leaking cunts. That spot over there is for you to put your pic. Go on. We’ll go around and share names later. I would rather you learn all their cocks first. The pic looks good there.

“Men! The fag here is a piss drinker and an ass eater. Make sure we take advantage of his talents. When I come back, I expect him to be shaved from head to toe, covered in piss, his face reeking of ass sweat, and his cunt loaded up. Over the next week, I want him to taste each of your shitholes. Guys, this is probably the best rimmer I have encountered in a long time. Oh, Hector is ready! Fag, welcome to the company.”

[hankwritten]

Happiness is a Sword that Kills Anyone

Day 6 - Home Engineer/Scout, 1k

“‘N here’s where we used to have some chickens,” Engineer said, flipping open the door to the old pen. “It’d probably be the easiest stock to start with, if you’re really sure you want to keep animals around again?”

He couldn’t help the note of confusion that caused the sentence to peter off into a question. Scout didn’t mind though. He shot Engineer a look, his signature lopsided grin, one that looked so different now that he’d grown a bit of hard-earned scruff around it. It once again reminded Engineer that he wasn’t a ‘young man’ anymore, instead just a man, which put Engie dangerously close to being an ‘old man’. Year by year his behavior had stiffened too; he was still Scout under it all of course, that same energy, but where once he might have taken the entirety of Conagher Ranch tour with his hands stuffed in his pockets and feigned disinterest hanging off him like body odor, he now poked around the coop with open curiosity.

“Chickens are the easiest?” Scout said, lifting the lid of the hutch, examining where soft hay used to lie and cradle the brooding hens.

“Well, easier. Easiest is the vegetable garden. Don’t need to worry about your cabbages getting mad at you and pecking you through the glove.”

He’d already committed to opening that wide patch of dirt near the house again, the one his mother had put so much love into. It only took the thought of her, her dagger sharp eyes glaring at him as he left the ranch for the last time, to make his heart clench up.

He tried to keep talking. “But in terms of animals, it’d only involve scooping up a dozen chicks or so at the next market to get started.”

“Cool! One of our neighbors growing up had a chicken and- I mean you weren’t supposed to keep animals in the building but he didn’t give a fuck- and he kept it on his shoulder like a pirate. He’d always let me feed it raisins.”

“Raisins?” Engineer chuckled.

“Yeah raisins. Why? Are chickens not supposed to eat raisins?”

“In my experience, no, but maybe he had a real special chicken.”

Engineer felt himself relax. It was amazing how Scout could make him forget like that, how he could help Engie put all the complexities of being back in his childhood home into the background, to remember the better times. It was well cared for; even if the fields hadn’t birthed a crop in a decade, he always sent a portion of his check to make sure someone came by and maintained the place. He’d been doing that ever since he’d inherited it. He’d never expected to, but for some reason there hadn’t been a will, and the family ranch had stayed in the family despite his folks’ hostility as he got in his truck that final day.

He put it out of his mind.

“One cow maybe wouldn’t be so bad,” he mused. “It’d be nice to have fresh milk every morning again.”

“Hell yeah, I’m so tired of that powder stuff Mann Co put in our rations. I’m like, half convinced it was Hale’s dandruff or something.”

Engineer snorted. “You probably ain’t had real milk even before that, city boy. Ain’t nothing like morning milk hot from the teat.”

“You really gotta say it like that don’t you, you weirdo?”

Scout wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him on the top of the head. He’d stopped shaving it completely smooth, which only accentuated how far his hairline had receded, but Scout said he didn’t mind. He always claimed he preferred Engineer ‘fuzzy’.

“‘Course downside of a cow is they’re temperamental,” Engineer went on. “Even the most docile Bessie can step the wrong way and break your foot. Happened to Dad when-” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Anyway, pigs are even worse. They’re cute when they’re little, but then they grow and they just get mean. And the ones that weren’t…I always hated when winter came. Pigs ain’t like cows ‘n chickens. Don’t keep ‘em around except to slaughter ‘em.”

The arm around Engineer’s neck didn’t move. Scout kept their bodies pressed against each other as they stood in the near-silent pen, dust motes catching the sun as they descended around them. It still seemed to echo with the distant sounds of life past.

“Why don’t you show me around the house part?” Scout offered.

Engineer smiled. There was a maturity to Scout, one that’d always been there but folks had always ignored. They saw his enthusiasm, his snorting laugh, his penchant for comic books, and they never thought to look past it. Every day Engie felt lucky that Scout had found him worth his time.

“Sure, c’mon.”

The home itself was one story, pressed low to avoid the winds that came by and blew dust when the weather was bad. He remembered winter nights where the dark came early, when he’d run in from playing while windows glowed warm and inviting.

That’s where the nostalgia ended though. All the furniture had been packed away, stuffed into the bunker workshop beneath the house that had once guarded company secrets worth more than the whole property. Now a few low-power sentries watched over Dad’s favorite rocker and Mom’s fine china.

“Some of the stuff we can get out of the basement,” Engineer said, touching a bare spot on the wall where an old family photo used to hang. The wallpaper was a slightly darker shade of pink there. “But the rest…hell, you got any opinions on interior decorating?”

“No, not really.” Scout scratched his neck, looking where the china cabinet had spent generations sinking into the hardwood. “Damn…I just can’t believe it. We gotta house Dell.” He turned to Engineer, brimming with uncomplicated joy. “How soon do you think we could get those baby chickens? Could we go tomorrow?”

Engie laughed. “Let’s worry about ourselves first! We ain’t even got anywhere to sleep, and the chickens don’t either. We’ll need some bedding and some feed, and a dog probably to stay out near the coop and watch for foxes.”

“I thought you kept saying you wanted a dog that was going to be all loyal and crap and sleep by your feet at night?”

Grinning mischievously, Engineer added, “well maybe I’ll need one of those too.”

Scout laughed, and pulled him backwards toward the hall, the bare rooms they’d be filling with life for the first time in decades. With a start, Engineer realized Scout had pulled him into his folks’ old room. He’d naturally drifted to his childhood bed but-

No, he corrected in his head, not his parent’s room, the master bedroom. The Conaghers had held this ranch for generations, and it was his now, his and his husband’s, and-

“Oh, hey, hey it’s okay,” Scout quickly snapped out of his excited soliloquy, putting hands on the sides of Engineer’s shoulders.

Engie pressed his face against Scout’s collarbone, tears wetting the front of his shirt.

“Dell, hey, what’s wrong babe?” Scout asked, completely at a loss.

“Jesus I just…I never thought…” Engineer slid his hands up Scout’s back, and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “I never thought I could have this. When I got kicked out it’d all seemed impossible, promise of a house and kids, making a family on the same spot a land…all up in smoke. It’s hard to believe it’s real. You’re real. It’s all happening.”

“‘Course it’s happening.” Scout wrapped his arms around him, tucking his chin over his head. “Anything you want, w-we’ll get, okay? We’ll have uh- have five kids, and uh- Ten dogs. And you can spend all damn day making new things in your workshop, and I’ll train chickens to sit on my shoulder and do tricks. We earned it.”

The tears kept coming now, but slowly, ones of relief as he held Scout tight. He’d been half convinced he’d never make it out of mercenary work, that the odds of both of them being allowed to retire were slim.

“…We really did, didn’t we?”

They stood in the bare bedroom, holding each other.

“Ten is a lot of dogs,” Engineer said eventually.

“And five ain’t a lot of kids?”

“Maybe. I figured not for you though. Don’t you have seven brothers?”

“Five is a lot of kids,” Scout stated more firmly, and Engie laughed

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[queenxxxsupreme]

There Comes Bad News (dad!Arthur Morgan)

A/N: This belongs in my dad!Arthur Morgan AU so if you haven’t read any of those fics, it might be best to read those. You can find my masterlist here!

Warnings: anxiety attack, language 

Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: John visits Lupine Valley Ranch to warn Arthur of an impending threat.

***

You moved around the kitchen, humming as your eyes glided over the window behind the kitchen sink. You spotted Daisy in the temporary corral with Piper. The corral had been placed in the front yard where you would have a clear sight to Daisy as she spent time with the foal. Though Arthur could watch her since he was outside tending to a few chores with Charles’ help, you liked to be able to see Daisy while you were inside. 

“You reckon that filly will make it?”

You jumped, turning to look at Hosea. He stood at the edge of the kitchen with a coffee cup in hand. 

“Christ, Hosea. You scared me.”

He chuckled. 

“Piper seems to be gettin’ stronger.” You wiped your hands off on a rag. “And she’s not missing a meal, that’s for sure. So I suppose I’ve got some hope.”

“Just hate to see the little one with her heart broken.”

“I know.” You nodded in agreement.

“It’ll be a shame if I have to beat Arthur’s ass for getting her a lame horse.”

You smiled at him, knowing he was half teasing and half being honest. 

The sound of Carson barking caught your attention. He was alerting the family to someone coming down the road that led to the house. 

“Who could that be?” You thought out loud, moving towards the front windows.

“Is that Carson barking?” Hosea asked as he followed behind you. “He sounds angry.”

You spotted John getting down from his horse before it even came to a full stop just in front of the house. Behind him was a cloud of dirt and dust he must’ve kicked up on his way in. 

“Something ain’t right. Why’s he in such a hurry?” Hosea headed for the front door. You were right behind him, going out on to the front porch. 

Your eyes flickered over to your husband, who was crossing the yard with Charles to see what John was doing. 

“What’s got you runnin’ like you’re bein’ chased, Marston?”

“I saw Micah in Blackwater yesterday.” John held on tightly to the leather reins. He appeared tense and nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes flickered around as if he was taking count of everyone there. “Is Lucy here with you?”

“She’s home.” Charles shook his head. “Wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

“Wait a damn minute. You what?” Hosea rubbed his eyes. 

“I saw that bastard. He was in Blackwater yesterday.”

You looked to Arthur, your stomach churning. His eyes very briefly met yours before he returned his gaze to John. 

“I was runnin’ errands with Jack and Grace when I saw him. He was on a horse across from the bank with a couple other fellas.”

“How are you sure it was him?” Your voice was quiet as you spoke. 

“Micah’s voice ain’t easy to forget.” John met your gaze.

“Did he see you?” 

“Course not, Hosea. Got my kids outta there before he could see them.” John ran his hand along the shoulder of his horse. “I can’t stay for long. Gotta get back to Beecher’s. But I wanted to let y’all know he’s around.”

“Do you think he’s going to start looking for us?” Charles asked. Arthur shook his head, running a hand over his face. Even from across the yard, you could see the anger on his face. 

“It’s hard to tell with Micah Bell.”

“At the very least, he’ll try to find Hosea.” Arthur spoke up, voice low and heavy with the weight of all the fears he’d carried for so long. “Hosea’s the only one who knows about where that Blackwater money is. The only other person who knew about it was Dutch and well….”

You looked down at your hands, taking a deep breath. 

“Micah would do anything to find us. That includes goin’ to you, John.”

“I ain’t tellin’ him shit, Arthur.”

“I never said he’d ask nicely. Micah’s a sick bastard. He’ll go through Jack and Grace to get to you, to get to me and there’s no tellin’ what he’d do-,”

“Arthur.” You cut him off firmly. His eyes shot over to you. “Stop right now. There’s no sense filling John’s head with that. He doesn’t need to worry any more than he already does, I’m sure.”

Silence filled the air. 

“Why don’t you bring Abigail and the kids up here, John?” Hosea suggested, moving to sit down on the front steps. “That way you all aren’t alone down there.”

“I couldn’t do that, Hosea.”

“Nonsense.” You shook your head, directing John’s attention to you. “We’ve got plenty of room. Daisy can stay in our room. That way you and Abigail can have your own room and Jack and Grace can have Daisy’s room.”

“I don’t want to crowd nobody. We aren’t a little family.”

“No, but you’re our family.” Arthur sighed. “It’s safer for you all to be up here with us and Charles and Lucy, John. You know that.”

John looked between you, Arthur, Hosea, and Charles for a few moments before nodding. 

“I’ll talk it over with Abigail when I get home. Only problem would be Roxy and our livestock.”

“Roxy can come up with you. Carson gets along with her just fine.” You smiled. 

“And if it’s just temporary, leave the livestock down there at Beecher’s. Me and you can go down every day or so to check on ‘em.” Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Alright. I’ll see you guys soon.”

You waved goodbye to John and watched him disappear down the drive. 

As he left, the weight in your stomach seemed to shift to your chest. 

“Why don’t we take a little break, Charles?” Arthur told him, giving him a pat on the arm. Charles nodded and began to move towards the house. 

“Maybe you and Uncle can share a room, Hosea.” Charles teased as he passed Hosea on the stairs. 

“Bullshit. I’ll be sending Uncle over to your house. You and Lucy have too much room in that house of yours.”

Your eyes followed Arthur as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Your hands were folded at your waist, thumb rubbing against your skin as you bit the inside of your cheek. 

“What?” He asked you. 

“Why did you have to go put all those thoughts into John’s head?”

“I wasn’t tryin’ to scare him, Y/N. I was just tellin’ him the truth. Micah is relentless. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. He’ll go through anyone and anything.”

“But you didn’t have to put thoughts into John’s head about what that bastard could do to his kids, Arthur.”

“Hey, sweetheart!” Hosea greeted Daisy loudly as she approached the porch from behind Arthur. She carried a handful of wildflowers in one hand. “Where’d you get those pretty flowers, Daisy?”

“From the yard!”

Arthur turned his attention to her, smiling as she offered him a portion of the bundle. 

“Here.”

“Thank you, sweetpea.”

The next bundle went to Hosea. He began to tell her of the different kinds of flowers she had picked up, and she gladly absorbed the information like a sponge. 

As you watched her, you couldn’t help but think of Micah. Arthur was right. The man would stop at nothing to get answers, to get what he wanted. It would be nothing for him to kill an entire family just to get the answers he was looking for. 

The more your mind lingered on the possibilities, the more the thoughts spiraled. The weight on your chest worsened and you suddenly gasped for breath, unable to breathe. Tears sprung to your eyes and you turned away, not wanting to ruin Daisy’s moment with Hosea. 

But everyone heard your gasp and saw you turn away so suddenly. 

Arthur moved up the front steps, brows furrowing together slightly. 

Daisy tried to move past him to get to you but Arthur caught ahold of the material of her shirt, quickly stopping her. 

“Daddy-,”

“Just give me a minute, sweetpea.” He cut her off gently. “Go back to Papa or Uncle Charles, okay?”

“Is momma okay?”

“She’ll be just fine.” Arthur kissed the top of Daisy’s head before moving towards you. 

Since Hosea was still sitting on the front step, Charles moved towards Daisy, holding his hands out for her. 

“What’s wrong with her, Uncle Charles?” Daisy opened her arms for him to pick her up but her eyes remained on the back of your head. 

“Mommy just needs a minute with daddy.” Charles explained. “What kind of flowers do you have there, Daisy?”

While Charles had Daisy somewhat distracted, Arthur was able to tend to you. 

His hand found the small of your back.

“You okay, pumpkin?” His voice was quiet and gentle.

You couldn’t speak. You knew the words would become jumbled in your throat or come out all too quickly. 

He kissed your shoulder.

“M’sorry if…. if what I was sayin’ scared you.”

“It’s not….” You shook your head. “Just…. Just me.”

“Is it him that’s got you this scared?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you turned to face him. In the same instant, you were able to tuck your nose into the front of his neck. 

“Pumpkin, you know I ain’t gonna let a damn thing happen to you or to Daisy. He’ll have to get through me to-,”

“Don’t.” You cut Arthur off, pulling away so that you could look him in the eyes. “Don’t you-Don’t you dare say that Arth-Arthur Morgan. I-I can’t lose you.”

He brushed the tears from your cheeks then pushed your hair back out of your eyes. 

“I love you.”

You nodded and leaned forward to press your forehead against his lips. His hand rubbed up and down your back as you tried your best to take even breaths. 

“Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to either of you. I’ll keep you safe, pumpkin.”

Hosea stood up from the steps and began to make his way towards the front door. He looked to Charles and nodded for him to come inside. 

“She can go. Y/N’s probably gonna want her near.”

Charles nodded and placed Daisy on her feet. 

“Behave out here.”

Daisy giggled, curious eyes watching her uncle disappear into the house. Then she looked to her parents. 

You lifted your head and sniffled. Arthur wiped your cheeks again. 

“That’s enough thinkin’ about all the bad. We’re about to have a busy house.” He told you. “What kind of things do we need to get done before they get back here?”

You said nothing, unable to shift your thoughts to something else. 

There was a tug on your skirt. You looked down to see Daisy looking up at you.

“You okay, momma?”

“Yes, love.” You nodded, moving to sit down in a chair on the porch. This allowed her to climb into your lap.

“Why are you crying?” She reached up with her free hand to wipe your tears away. 

“Because…. Well, ‘cause I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“What do you got there, sweetpea?” Arthur knelt down beside you. “Did you pick those flowers yourself?”

“Yeah! Papa said they are cornflowers, poppies, and daisies.”

“Daisies are momma’s favorites.” Arthur leaned in to whisper to her. “You think those might cheer her up?”

You smiled as Daisy handed you the bundle of flowers. 

“Thank you, honey.” You leaned forward to kiss her forehead. “Those cornflowers look like daddy’s eyes, don’t they?”

Daisy looked from the flower to Arthur, then back to the flower, and finally back to Arthur. She giggled and nodded her head.

“They do.”

“Don’t you think daddy’s got pretty eyes?”

“He does!”

“You girls are gonna make me all red in the face.” Arthur muttered, a shy smile coming to his lips as he stood up. “Is your room all cleaned up, sweetpea? Uncle John’s coming up here and Grace’s is gonna need somewhere to sleep.”

“A sleepover?” Daisy excitedly jumped down from your lap. 

“Only if your room is clean.”

“I’ll go check!”

Your eyes followed her as she ran into the house. Then your eyes flickered down to the flowers. 

“We’re gonna be alright, Y/N.” Arthur held his hand out for you. 

“I know. We always are. It just…. It never comes easy.”

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