#we’re running out of options here gang!!!

[thatgirlwhokeepsreading]

The thing the people don’t tell you about re-parenting yourself/similar gambits is that for bitches of a particular temperament (it’s me I’m bitches) it sometimes makes you so so mad when it works. Sold all my baby dolls in a garage sale when I was eight not because I didn’t want to them anymore but because I thought I shouldn’t want them anymore, and now the only thing that had me sleeping like a rock after fortnight of hells is this elaborate LARP so I can convince my central nervous system that there is someone in charge who a) wants to take care of shit and b) can take care of shit.

RSD emotional hangover making you too agitated to sleep even though you’re intellectually aware the conflict is resolved? Not anymore with the power of making dairy-free chocolate milk and listening to ten minutes of Dune on audiobook while reading alongside on your e-reader before you pass the fuck out.

Like you would think cringing into the sun* would keep one even more awake than the vague background radiation of little-T traumas (which has actually reduced after five years of medication and psychology appointments), but I guess it is really about quantity over quality. Guess one big cringe is less impactful than the relief from convincing the quivering little toddler that’s been left in charge of the sleep lever in your brain to come out from under the desk and do their job by putting up a sort of flimsy curtain so they can no longer see the wall of painting symbolising your mild disconcerting experiences

And I reference temperament when I know that my annoyance is in fact also a huge part to do with socialisation, particularly being primed towards abnegation + a fundamental suspicion towards adults engaging with things culturally associated with Children and Childhood, both of which are things I challenge on principle consciously/intellectually. But knowing that it’s completely harmless, and like hey I could be doing meth or something, does not change the fact that when I mimic the running commentary I do with babysitting kids Just In My Head To Myself and immediately become head-nodding sleepy, I’m instantly like “oh we respond to this and not a haunting amount of melatonin? cool. yeah. sure.”

(*Of course none of this is cringe when other people do it, as they are allowed to experience Quirks and Vulnerabilities in peace because they are Not Me. That said, when I’m not venting on tumblr dot org I do generally avoid calling any of this stuff cringe bc I am aware that caveating with “This only applies to me because I’m Not Like Other Girls (I’m Worse)” often doesn’t actually make the other person feel assured you’re not judging them.)

[rockscanfly]

Random Charles Smith Headcanon's

Has probably contemplated suicide at more than one point (see “I’m here just to hurt and suffer myself. In this land I feel stuck.”)

Maybe a little vain. He cares for his clothing well, embellishes himself. 

Has auditory sensitivity. He gets very irritable with loud people.

Has never felt like he belonged, always feels cut off

Is comfortable with violence only against folk he sees as on his own level/like himself. Has little empathy for himself so has little empathy for them (hence smoking while Arthur beats a man for information, the efficient and quick kills of the bounty hunter, the poachers)

Has a STRONG sense of justice--that includes responsibility and culpability. People make choices and Charles holds them accountable for them. Sadie is a killer, so he treats her like any other ally. That German family didn’t make that choice, neither did the Wapiti. But he doesn’t have any pity for the gang.

Animals don't choose violence, hence the protectiveness over them and their dignity. 

Comes off as cold because he isn’t loud/not good at chat. He’s really just been alone most of his life. 

Okay with drinking, does NOT like drunkenness. Back to culpability. This can make him unforgiving and harsh at times.

Both he and Arthur are so used to people passing in and out of their lives that they’re afraid to hold on too tight. Then Arthur gets captured by Colm. Hosea talks to him, about Bessie and about Arthur’s dead family. 

“I’m not her,” Charles says. “Not either of them. I’m not asking you to leave your world behind, and I’m not going to wait for you in some house. We’re partners first. I’d lose the rest of it before I let you put me to the side.” 

He likes that Arthur is big enough to push him around, to hold him down and anchor him when he can feel himself getting lost. To toss him over a broad shoulder when they’re swimming around on a hunting trip and settle him down on soft pelts, to pin him and bite the lonely from his skin. 

Charles can kick Arthur’s ass and will do so on request

He’s kind and thoughtful. He’d be the one to make Arthur little presents and leave them around for him. Practical things, made special with the careful workmanship of beading/embroidery/etching. 

Can be impatient—autonomy is his norm so waiting on others both physically, mentally, and emotionally doesn’t come natural to him

Will cut slingload on people he feels don’t value him back—would not pine for Arthur or stick around if Arthur tries to protect himself by lashing out at Charles, even if he still has feelings. His father taught him that he has to protect himself because no one else will do it. Arthur. Well. Arthur’s the only person he’s trusted to have his back. Because Arthur proved it, several times over. There’s no one Charles would have used “do it for me” on other than Arthur Morgan. 

He fell into fighting again because he had begun opening his heart for the first time since he was a child, and then fate took Arthur too. Like Charles said—he was put on the earth to cause pain and to suffer himself. 

He tries to help folks, but he’s not good at talking and he can’t use his privilege to help like Arthur did. He’s everything the US government hates, even more than the Waipiti. They reach a point where his violence is no longer useful. And for a drowning, grieving, heart sick stretch of years violence is all Charles has left to him (hence going to Saint Denis, a city he hates, and fighting people for white folks' entertainment in a transparent suicide-by-cop bid for someone to end his suffering) And then Sadie gives him the option of closure and working beside John reminds him that he is a man, not a weapon, and Beecher’s Hope makes him believe he too can change. 

Charles has never tried to be anything but who he is. He and Arthur are similar in that way. What he realizes, what Arthur realized too late, is that he can change if he wants it. And that maybe he’s allowed his past pain and scars to run his life along a course he doesn’t actually have to follow. 

Brought to you by my on-going replay of RDR2 and my undying love and devotion to princess of my heart Charles Smith.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

more baji drabbles please.🙏🏼🙏🏼

Baji reacting to his s/o, who can fight

Power couple. period.

Everyone was shocked when Baji, of all people, managed to find a girlfriend—especially someone as gentle and sweet as you. It was hard to imagine someone like you by his side, considering Baji's reputation for being rough around the edges, loud, and sharp-tongued. Yet, against all odds, the two of you clicked in a way that no one saw coming.

You were always seen laughing together, eating together, and hanging out. But despite the smiles and carefree moments, something lingered in Baji's mind: What if being with him put you in danger? He was a well-known delinquent. You always seemed relaxed, and unworried when you were with him, and he chalked it up to your trust in his ability to protect you no matter what. But that wasn't the case.

The sun was beginning to set as you and Baji made your way to the Musashi Shrine. The ancient trees loomed overhead, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. The shrine’s stone path was familiar under your feet, where the Tokyo Manji Gang often gathered in secret. Baji walked beside you, his usual confident stride a little more subdued today. He hadn’t said much on the way here, and you knew why.

As you approached the clearing where the rest of the gang was waiting, Baji finally spoke, his voice low but firm. “You should head home, Y/N. I’ve got business with the guys, and you know how it is. I don’t want you getting mixed up in any of this.”

You looked up at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Baji, I’m not a little kid. I can handle myself.”

Baji sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. “It’s not about you handling yourself, babe. I just don’t want you involved in this stuff. It’s dangerous.”

“And what about you?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re in the middle of it, every day.”

“That’s different,” Baji replied, his tone softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “This is my world, not yours. Please, Y/N, just this once, go home.”

You stared at him for a long moment, weighing your options. Baji had always been overprotective, and while you appreciated his concern, it also made you more determined to know what was going on. You finally nodded, giving him a small smile. “Alright, I’ll go.”

Baji’s eyes searched yours for any hint of deception, but you kept your expression neutral. “Good,” he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come by later, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, turning to leave. But as soon as you were out of sight, you doubled back, slipping into the thick foliage near the shrine. You crouched low, your heart pounding as you carefully moved through the trees and bushes, positioning yourself close enough to hear the meeting.

The voices of the Tokyo Manji Gang filled the air as Baji and the others began to discuss what had brought them here tonight. You recognized Mikey’s voice, cool and commanding as always, followed by Draken’s deep, steady tone.

“There’s been some trouble brewing with one of our rivals,” Mikey said, his voice serious. “They’re planning to make a move soon. We need to be ready.”

“How many are we talking about?” Baji asked, his voice hardening.

“Enough to cause problems,” Draken replied. “They’re not gonna back down easily. We’re looking at a full-on gang war if we don’t handle this right.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened, the weight of their words sinking in. A gang war. This was serious—more serious than anything you’d ever heard Baji talk about before.

As the meeting continued, you couldn’t tear yourself away, even though every instinct told you to run. You needed to know what was going to happen, what Baji was going to do. But as the meeting drew to a close, you knew you had to leave before anyone spotted you. You carefully backed away, slipping out of the trees and hurrying down the path back to your home.

The walk felt like a blur, your mind racing with everything you’d heard. When you finally reached your door, you barely registered the familiar surroundings of your room. All you could think about was the impending fight, and what it meant for Baji. What if something happened to him? What if he got hurt—or worse?

The next few days you were passed in a haze. You were quieter around Baji, more withdrawn, your usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by a growing sense of dread. Baji noticed, of course. “You’ve been acting weird lately,” he said one afternoon as you sat together on a park bench. “Something bothering you?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, just tired, I guess.”

But Baji wasn’t convinced. “You’re not telling me something,” he pressed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “If something’s wrong, you need to tell me, Y/N.”

You wanted to tell him everything, to share the burden that had been weighing on you since that night at the shrine. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not when you knew it would only make things worse. So you shook your head again, leaning into his side as you whispered, “I’m fine, Baji. Really.”

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, but you could feel the tension in his body. He didn’t believe you, and you couldn’t blame him. The unease between you only grew as the days passed, and the date of the impending gang war loomed ever closer.

The day of the fight arrived, and you hadn’t heard a word from Baji. Not a call, not a text—nothing. You spent the entire day gripping your phone, checking it constantly, hoping for some sign that he was okay. The silence gnawed at you, each passing hour adding to the pit of dread growing in your stomach.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, you couldn’t take it anymore. The fear and worry were too much to bear. Baji might have wanted to keep you out of this, but you couldn’t just sit back and wait for something to happen. Without a second thought, you pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, the thick fabric swallowing your frame as you tugged the hood low over your face.

Determined, you slipped out of your house and made a beeline for the location where the fight was supposed to take place. The streets were eerily quiet as you made your way to the outskirts of town, where an old, abandoned junkyard served as the battleground for countless brawls between rival gangs. Tonight, it would witness yet another bloody conflict.

You arrived just in time to see the fight unfold. The Tokyo Manji Gang was holding their own, but it was clear they were outnumbered. Your heart pounded in your chest as you hid among a pile of rusted cars, watching the scene play out below you. Baji was in the thick of it, his fists flying as he took down opponent after opponent, but even he was starting to tire.

Toman was winning to a certain degree until, suddenly, the tide turned. The rival gang pulled a dirty move, signaling for reinforcements. Another group of delinquents swarmed the area, overwhelming the already battered Toman members. Your breath hitched as you saw them closing in on Baji, who was now surrounded by more than fifty opponents, all threatening to jump him at once.

Your body moved on instinct before your mind could catch up. Without thinking, you sprinted down the pile of junk cars, your feet barely touching the ground as you made your way toward Baji. Just as one of the enemies tried to sneak up on him from behind, you launched yourself into the air, your foot connecting squarely with the side of his face. The force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd gasped in shock, eyes widening at the sight of this mysterious figure who had appeared out of nowhere to protect Baji’s back. You stood tall, fists clenched and ready to fight, but the hood of your hoodie obscured your face, leaving them guessing who you might be.

Baji, still in the middle of knocking down several opponents at once, caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye. He was about to shout at you to get out of there when your hood slipped off, revealing your face. For a split second, time seemed to stand still.

“Y/N?!” Baji’s voice cracked with disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Not the time, Baji!” you yelled back, your voice firm as you took down another opponent who dared to get too close. “I’m here to protect your back, so focus on the fight!”

Baji was stunned, his mind reeling as he tried to process what was happening. You—his sweet, gentle girlfriend—were here, in the middle of a gang war, fighting off delinquents like you’d been doing it your whole life. He had so many questions, but there was no time to ask them. Right now, you were right—he needed to focus on the fight.

Side by side, the two of you fought off wave after wave of enemies. Baji’s strength and speed were unmatched, but you kept up with him, your movements precise and powerful. You weren’t just holding your own—you were dominating, knocking down anyone who came near him.

Eventually, the tide began to turn in Toman’s favor once more. The rival gang members started to retreat, unable to withstand the combined force of Baji and the mysterious fighter at his side. When the last of them had fled, leaving the junkyard littered with bodies and debris, you finally allowed yourself to relax, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Baji turned to you, his face a mix of shock, confusion, and—if you looked closely enough—pride. “Y/N… what the hell was that?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. “How did you—where did you learn to fight like that?”

You gave him a tired smile, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “It’s a long story. But first, let me take care of those cuts.”

You pulled out a small first-aid kit from your pocket—something you’d brought just in case—and began wrapping Baji’s knuckles, which were bruised and bloodied from the fight. As you worked, you explained everything. How you had followed him to the shrine, overheard the meeting, and decided that you couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. You apologized for going against his wishes, but deep down, you knew you had made the right choice.

Baji listened in silence, his eyes never leaving your face. When you finished, he let out a long sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “Y/N, you’re unbelievable,” he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and admiration. “I wanted to keep you safe, and here you are, kicking ass like it’s nothing.”

You chuckled softly, finishing up the bandages and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I didn’t want you to fight alone. You’re always protecting me, Baji. This time, I wanted to protect you.”

Baji shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re something else, Y/N. But… I guess I can’t be too mad. You saved my ass back there.”

“Glad I could help,” you replied, your smile matching his.

As the two of you stood there amidst the aftermath of the battle, the moonlight casting long shadows across the junkyard, you realized that this was your world now, too. You and Baji weren’t just a couple—you were a power couple, literally. No one was matched with your strength together.

[cruel-summerxy]

renegade - billy the kid x reader

summary ➞ Your brother Jesse is back in town and he brings a friend with him. You know he’s bad news but you can’t help but to be drawn to him. word count: 2.2k words.

a/n ➞ will anyone read this? Probably not but I’m going crazy for tom blyth rn. I’m for sure gonna do more parts, kinda miss writing. oh and this is based on renegade by big red machine and ms taylor allison swift. anywho, hope y’all enjoy.

It was a quiet and cold day when you first met Billy. You had been trying your darndest to stay away from your brother and his gang but word had gotten back to you that he was back in town. You had done your best to not go into town, avoiding Jesse would be the best option.

A tap on your window causes you to reach for your gun. Ever since your Papa had died and Jesse had left it had been up to you to protect your home.

“Who’s there?” you shout, not daring to look out the window.

“My name is Billy. I’m a friend of Jesse!” a voice beams. You scrunch your eyebrows and decide to look out. Your eyes are met with a tall man— kid. He couldn’t be older than 20. A part of you knows that anyone associated with your brother was bad news but when you see him in front of your house your heart skips a beat. His blue eyes almost make you lose focus.

“And?” you ask annoyed, your hand gripping your firearm.

“You’re his sister, right?” Billy questions and looks through the window, catching you off guard. You point

your gun at him and he takes a step back.

“Woah I’m not here to hurt ya,” he raises his hands in surrender, “Jesse sent me here. He said you’d help.”

You mentally curse Jesse out and open the door carefully. Billy takes another step back and watches you intently, his hands still up.

“And why would I do that?” you raise an eyebrow, “I don’t know you.”

“Cause you’re nice,” Jesse shouts from the corner of the house.

Your eyes widen when you see Jesse with a red head next to him. You pivot your heels towards the door hoping that he won’t catch up.

“Come on, I know you see me,” your brother bellows and runs behind you. You lock the door and lean against it. To say you loathe him is an understatement.. You let out a sigh and contemplate if ignoring him would do any good. Right when you are about to walk away you feel his arm come over your shoulder. You groan as you realize the back door wasn’t locked.

“Well that’s not very nice to do to your older brother, sweetheart,” Jesse lectures you as you both walk to the dining room, his men close behind. Billy gives you a sorry smile and leans against the counter. You hold back an eye roll and pick up an apple, pretending to inspect it.

“What do you want Jesse? Tired of stealing and running away yet?” you mutter avoiding his gaze. He laughs at your words and shakes his head. Ever since you had been little Jesse attracted chaos and destruction.

“Something like that. Listen me and the boys need a place to crash for a while,” Jesse explains and points at the two men behind him. “This is Billy and Beckwith.” Your eyes inspected the men in front of you— a blush covering your face as you saw Billy again. Your face quickly changed when your worried mind spun with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you debate.

“Come on sweetheart,” Jesse nags, “we’re tired and hungry. We won’t cause any trouble, you have my word.”

“Mama won’t like it… she doesn’t want to see your face around here,” you remind him, hoping that he’ll forget the whole thing.

“Mama doesn’t know who you are. I doubt she’ll even recognize me,” Jesse counters. You sigh and lean against the counter, your arms crossed. Billy remains quiet and straightens up next to you. You think of Jesse's words and groan. He had a point, your mother’s condition had been going downhill, her often forgetting to even eat.

“I don’t want your men stealing from Mama,” you state, “no bringing women and no late night shootings.”

Your brother nods and a smirk appears on his face, “told ya’, boys. Come on, let me show you my father’s whiskey collection.”

Billy hesitates, but follows the blonde man.

.

You felt a headache coming and you went back to your plants. Jesse had only been back for a few hours and your body was already stressing out. You caught a glimpse of Billy once again, your shaky hands causing you to drop the task at hand.

“Need anything?” you ask and walk up to him. You squint, trying to cover the sunset.

“Jesse made me come out here,” Billy coughed awkwardly, “he’s wondering if you can make us some food.”

“Of course he is.” you groan. You sigh and clean your dirt covered hands on your dress. You look up at Billy and scan his face for a moment, his blue eyes doing the same. “When was the last time you all had a proper meal?”

“It’s been weeks,” he says truthfully and follows you back into the house. “been catching some meat here and there but we’ve mostly been eating berries.”

“Jesus,” you mutter and try to turn on a fire. You feel Billy’s eyes on you, your breath becoming uneven now.

“Here let me help,” Billy says and turns on a fire easily. You give him a once over and put on a pot. You wash your hands, Billy watches your every move and hands you a drying rag.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your peace. Jesse insisted on us coming here. He said you’d take us in,” Billy spoke sincerely.

“Why are y’all running?” you question him. Billy’s eyes darken as he recalls why Jesse and the other man had to hide.

“Stole some cattle and then accidentally killed someone.”

You stop what you’re doing and look at him. He stares back, not moving an inch. You search for a teasing smile or a glint of joking but find none. “How do you accidentally kill someone?”

He ignores your question and looks down at the apple you had been inspecting earlier.

“You can eat it. I’m tired of ‘em. Mama’s the only one who eats them,” you say and soften your face. He shakes his head in embarrassment but you roll it his way. “It’ll go bad. We’ve got more in the back.”

He reluctantly takes a bite and thanks you. You smile at him and you wash some vegetables. His eyes follow you and do your best to ignore him. He wasn’t making you uncomfortable per se, but it had been a while since a man had been in your home.

“Can you let Jesse know I’m cooking something?”

Billy nods and walks back to his friend. You can hear them in the other room, Jesse being the loudest. After a few minutes you hear Jesse’s laugh and then hear him speak once again.

“She’ll get over it, it was like five years ago.” Jesse told them and your heart sank. Anger flooded your body as you realized what he was talking about. You began chopping the vegetables with more force.

“Stupid Jesse and his stupid little friends,” you whisper to yourself. This had been why you didn’t want him in your home again. Jesse had the tendency to come into your life and cause old wounds to reopen.

..

“Dinners ready,” you shout and serve yourself a plate. You hear the boys come in and take a bite, ignoring them.

“Woah didn’t even serve us,” Jesse teases and serves himself. The two others follow suit and moan at the smell of your food.

“Y’all got hands,” you point out, this getting a laugh out of Billy. You smile at his reaction but cover it when Jesse sits next to you.

“That’s not very nice sweetheart,” Jesse replies and tries

the food on his plate. He whines at the taste of your food but you're too occupied with Billy, him sitting across from you. He wasn’t bad looking at all. His dark hair and blue eyes mesmerized you, making you lose your train of thought. Jesse calls out your name.

“What?” you knit your eyebrows at his voice.

“Said if this is Mama’s recipe,” Jesse repeated with a full mouth. You cringe at his actions and shake your head.

“It’s my own.”

“It’s delicious,” Billy compliments and takes another bite. You smile at him and try to keep yourself from getting red in the face. You look at his shape and frown, his body jagged and weak. The warm meal probably settled into his stomach quickly.

“Thank you Billy,” you smile at him and look at your brother and his other friend, “y’all like it?”

Beckwith nods and continues eating. You suppress a laugh and look at Jesse, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s alright,” Jesse teases while sipping on his beer, his eyes landing on your own “since when do you drink?”

You ignore him and look up at Billy who had been staring at you already. You cross my arms and observe him, “why are you drinking? Aren’t you too young, Billy?”

Billy smiles, amused at your curiosity, “I’m not that young.”

“He actually is,” Jesse mumbles between bites, “but after a long day one needs a nice beer.”

“One might argue that you need a bath as well,” you reply. Billy chuckles under his breath and continues eating. A hint of achievement covers your tummy. “But I am serious. I’ll bring some water for you all, you really do need to clean up.”

Jesse rolls his eyes but it goes unnoticed by you. You’re too caught up on Billy to look at your brother. Your eyes land on the dark circles under his eyes. It hadn’t occurred to you that the group of them might want to lay down and rest. You wipe your mouth and look at Jesse, his body filled with exhaustion as well.

You clear your voice and look back at all of them , “the baths can wait. I can set up your rooms if you wish. You must be tired.”

They nod and you stand up. You walk through the hallway feeling someone following you. You turn and are met with Billy’s tall and hard figure.

“Shit, sorry. I was just trying to help, didn’t mean to hurt ya,” Billy apologized. You looked up at him and he smiled, it not quite reaching his eyes.

“It’s alright, you must be drained out. You like sleeping with a lot of blankets?” you ask as you gather them from the closet. He sheeply nods and you gather more in your arms. Billy follows you, keeping a distance.

“This is my room,” you say pointing, “that one is Mama’s. This one is Jesse’s. You’ll have to sadly share with Beckwith.”

“That’s alright. It’s better than sleeping in a tent, darlin.”

“I suppose,” you reply and your eyes gleam at his words. You quickly open his door and show him where he’ll be sleeping. “It’s not big but you’ll each have a bed.”

He nod appreciatively and takes the blankets off your hands, “thank you for taking us in. I know you and Jesse don’t get along.”

You shrug and close the window in the room. In a swift motion you turn on a candle, carefully avoiding your fingers. “He's a pain in my ass but he’s still my brother.”

Billy smiles and leans against the wall. “Trust me, I know.” His eyes drooped, his fatigue becoming even more evident.

“Well you should sleep Billy,” you whisper and he agrees with you.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, matching your tone.

…

The next few days you steer clear from Billy and Jesse. The group of men spend their time resting or drinking. You engulf yourself with your mother and your fields of corn.

One morning Billy finds you working in the fields.

“Do you not rest?” he shouts, catching you off guard. You look up, wiping your forehead. You lean against your shovel, “I do, just like starting my day early. How’d you sleep?”

“Best sleep I’ve had,” Billy confesses and walks up to you. His steps grow louder as the gap between you two closes. He’s wearing the same clothes for days now but you say nothing. He reaches you and takes the shovel from you, copying your previous movements. You take a step back and let him help.

“That’s good to hear…” you say and stare at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind about someone as young as him running in Jesse’s circle.

“What?” he laughs at the look on your face, his own cheeks turning red.

“Why are you with Jesse and his men? You’re far too young,” you speak your mind.

“Told you, I killed a man,” he huffs as he digs a hole. You freeze at his voice.

“Hold on, you killed someone?” you say and silence settles over you both. “I thought Jesse or Beckwith had killed someone and that’s why you were running,”

“It was an accident,” Billy reminds you softly, using the same words from the first day.

You tilt your head, not sure if you should believe him. “How do you accidentally kill someone?” Not once does he stop digging, you can see his demeanor changing. Perhaps you had pushed too much.

“What? You scared of me now, darling?” he laughs at the look your eyes held. The noise coming from him almost scared you — almost.

“Oh I’m not frightened, I’ve seen Jesse take someone’s life. Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.”

He laughs at your words and continues digging up. You remain in your position.

“No really, I can.”

[nightxcreature]

Regarding Dean (Prompt Drabble)

Based on the prompt by @awkwardsilince

+Prompt will be in bold+

                Warnings: None? Slight cursing, Dean forgetting everything, Use of Y/N

Pairings: none

                Based on Season 12 Episode 11 (Regarding Dean)

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

                                I had been sitting in the motel room with Dean for the better part of an hour. Sam and Rowena had gone on a run to grab supplies for yet another spell to help Dean regain his memory. It’s been gone for a few days now and we’re running out of options to fix him. I’d been watching him for roughly twenty minutes as he tried to figure out how to turn the T.V on. He’s used the remote in various positions, touched the screen, tapped the wall beside it, and even asked the picture on the wall for help. For some reason, nothing has worked.

                “Can I help you?” I finally ask when he picks up the lamp and raises it as if he’s Harry Potter about to perform some magic spell to make Scooby-Doo appear.

                He jumps and spins around brandishing the lamp like a weapon, “Oh, I forgot you were there…” He trails off and I can see the wheels turning as he tries to remember my name.

                “Y/N.” I reply with a sigh.

                He nods and puts a finger to his head, “Right, Y/N. I knew that.”

                I give him a thumbs up and stand from my chair, “Sure you did. Do you need help?”

                “Help with what?” He asks, looking between myself and the lamp in his hands, “With the light…stick?”

                I let out an even bigger sigh, taking the lamp from him and putting it back in its place. Turning the T.V on for him, I head toward the table to try and dig through the lore again.

                “I really have no clue how someone can be so stupid.” I whisper to myself, looking back over my shoulder at Dean.

                He laughs at whatever Scooby and the Gang have done, and then turns from the T.V back to me, “Was-was that pointed toward me?”

                                I send him a wink, “You’re the only other person in the room. I would ask you take a guess, but I’m honestly scared as to what you might say.”

                “Right…just you and me in here….” He repeats, looking around nervously.

                “My name is Y/N! Son of a Bitch…do we have any sticky notes?!”

[i-heart-yellowstone]

40 - State of Emergency

Part 41

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Please leave comments ❤️

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @whatelsecouldgowrong @lover-of-books-and-tea

Alissa’s pov

Pressing my phone to my ear it went straight to my daughter’s voicemail inbox making me sit my phone down and grabbing one of the glasses near the living room bar, throwing it harshly against the nearest wall.  “Argh!” 

“That glass belonged to my father’s grandfather.” Beth spoke typing away on her laptop while sitting on the living room couch. 

Stomping my boots on the wooden floor I glared at my sister in law, not in the mood for her snarky joking at the moment.  “Bethany, I’m in no mood.  My daughter hasn’t called me back yet and she said she would after she checked on her boyfriend in the hospital.” 

“Are you sure she isn’t occupied with sharing his bed?” She raised a glass of whiskey while taking a drink. 

Gagging at the thought I felt immediately uncomfortable at the thought.  “That’s disgusting, Beth.  And my daughter wouldn’t immediately lose her virginity to that boy like you did to your husband.” 

“Kayce got you pregnant on the first go-around.” She smirked in my direction before the front door opened and my husband walked into the living room holding up his phone.

Rushing over to his side I clasped my hands together hoping he had some good news.  “Have they heard anything about our girl?” 

“Nope.  The whole Bunkhouse gang has tried calling her.  Dad, your mom, your sister have too and got nothing back.  We’re starting to run out of options here.” 

Running my hands through my hair I paced back and forth in the living room in front of the grand fireplace.  I know it had only been 24 hours but it was still too long for her to not tell us if she was okay and give us an update on her boyfriend.  “We gotta call our dude in Texas.  He can go to Tech and see if she’s there.  Because we know it would be hours before we ever get off the plane if we left right now.” 

“Jimmy?” Kayce raised a brow hearing me say the great state of Texas. 

Shaking my head, I slumped my shoulders, taking my phone off the coffee table.  “Call him.  But he’s not the only guy we know in Texas.” 

“Please not that childish horse trainer, Lissa.” Beth put a hand to her forehead groaning at the memory of when she had to go ask for his help and he nearly had her play strip poker with him. 

Looking over at her I switched my focus to my husband who was waiting for an answer.  “Travis.” 

“Oh geez.  I guess we don’t have another option do we.” Kayce removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair, taking out his phone searching for his number.  He put the phone to his ear dialing the Texan.  “Travis, this is Kayce Dutton. I need you to go to Tech and see if my daughter is there.  She’s not answering any of our calls here.  Give me a call when you find her.” He put the phone away draping his arm around my waist when I walked over laying my head on his chest hoping she would be okay. 

Kayce, Tate, Madeline and I were sitting in the stands in the arena with John getting ready to watch our oldest daughter perform in her segment of the rodeo show today in Texas.   Ever since she was in middle school we had started letting her practice with Travis Wheatley.  

John had bought horses from him and he had shown them on the road to provide our ranch with some extra money if we ever needed it.  Now he's been teaching my daughter the rodeo life ever since.  Currently in her sophomore year of homeschool she had begun making a title for herself on how good she performed ‘County Rodeo Queen’. 

I could see Travis talking to our daughter who was sitting on her horse inside the shoot waiting for the buzzer to go off.  I could imagine he was telling her what he told her the first time she was really nervous.  “It’s just you and a horse doing a job tryin’ like hell to not let the other down.” 

The buzzer went off and at the same time a caff and my daughter bolted out into the dirt arena.  She chased after the small animal reaching down with her freehand to twirl her lasco, throwing it out and having it wrap around the cattle’s back legs.  “That’s another impressive time slot for Faith Dutton from Montana.” The announcer declares and the crowd cheers proudly. 

“That’s our girl.” Kayce grinned in my direction while holding up Madeline so she could see over the crowd. 

Madeline clapped her hands at the age of six. “Sissy.” 

Tate and John were talking about the rest of the show while I made my way down to the shoots seeing my daughter talking with Travis until he saw me coming up to them.  “Alissa, hey.  Have you talked with her about what she wants to do once she’s done with school?” 

“Not really.  We’ve just been letting her try out new experiences.  Why do you ask?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

The horse trainer chuckled looking over at my daughter posing with a little girl who wanted to pet her horse.  “She’s got a future in this business.  I mean she’s literally becoming Queen Rodeo from Montana.” 

“That’s a big compliment coming from you.  I’ll talk with her about it if she mentions it.  But Kayce and I agreed we’re going to let our kids choose their paths in life.” 

Travis nodded in understanding.  “Well I’ll be here if she ever needs anything.” 

“I’ll remember that. Thank you.” 

Texas Tech 

Caroline was sitting on her bed inside her dorm room until the door was suddenly kicked opened where it nearly broke from the hinges by the force of the impact.  She jumped up into the air with a shriek, grabbing her lamp off her desk ready to hit someone with it.  “Ahh! What the fuck?” 

“Where is she.  Where’s Faith Dutton?” She watched an older guy stomp into her room completely dressed in cowboy clothing and his hands clenched into fists. 

Caroline held the lamp tightly in her hands.  “Uh hello.  I’m not answering any questions until you tell me who the hell you are.” 

“Travis Wheatley, I’m a family friend of the Dutton’s.” He introduces himself seeing the lamp in her hands.  “I’m not here to hurt you. I just need to know where my little Rodeo Queen is at.” 

Caroline lowered the lamp.  “Um…she left with an older guy at 8am yesterday morning.  But she hasn’t come back yet.  I assumed she'd just been in class all day.  Why did something happen to her?” 

“How old was this mystery guy?” 

She ran a hand through her hair.  “Elderly looking age.” 

“Thank you, young lady.” Travis took out his phone shutting the dorm door behind him taking his phone call out into the hallway.  “I need to put out a missing person report on an eighteen year old girl that has brown hair and green eyes.  Her name is Faith Rae Dutton and she was last scene with an elderly guy leaving Texas Tech at 8am.” 

“We’ll start the investigation, sir.” A 911 operator responded back to him. 

The door behind him got flung opened causing Travis to shift his attention to the teenage girl.  “Hey! Are you going to look for her?” 

“Yeah.  I am.  Why the fuck do you want to know?” 

Caroline snapped back at him.  “I wanna go with you to look for her.” 

“You just told me the description of the guy.  I think I can handle this on my own.”

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest glaring at the taller cowboy in front of her.  “I know some guy who is related to the guy I gave you a description for.  My roommate is dating a boy named Cooper Norris and his father works on the oil rigs.”

“What’s this guys name?” Travis asked. 

She scratched her head thinking quickly.  “Tommy Norris, I think.”

 

“Okay then let’s go.  Find me his address cause we’re driving to his fucking house to make sure he ain’t hurting my little rodeo buddy.” Caroline grab her keys chasing after the cowboy who was stomping out of the building, clearly on a mission. 

[allzelemonz]

Sitting Still: Kieran Duffy X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘lad’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: M/Implied sex, violence Warnings: Sean is an ass, implied anal sex, implied bottom reader and top Kieran, Kieran isn’t here, robbery Summary: The morning after still holds a lingering pain from an eventful night with Kieran, Sean notices and won’t let it go.

It’s a hard thing to hide when you have a job that requires waiting while mounted on a horse. You asked Dutch if you could sit this one out, claiming to be sick. He didn’t believe the fake cough and made a speech about the gang needing the money and not letting the boys down. You and Sean are paired together, waiting on one side of the road, while Javier and Micah wait on the other. Sean isn’t one to miss a detail like your occasional wincing and the shifting in your saddle.

“Ya got somethin’ in yer pants, lad?” Sean laughs. “I thought I couldn’t sit still.”

“It’s nothing.” You say.

Sean leans forward in his saddle with a smirk on his face. “Nothin’? That means it’s somethin’.”

He raises his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

He laughs. “I didn’t know the little O’Driscoll had it in ‘em!”

“Shut up, Sean.”

“Is that why you’re with the little rat?” Sean muses. “He’s got somethin’ ta show?”

“Shut up, Sean.”

“I always thought O’Driscolls were a’ the growin’ type.”

“Sean! Shut. Up.”

“I can’t help it, lad.” He laughs. “Is tha’ why you was walkin’ with a limp last week?”

“We’re on a job, Sean.”

“Stagecoach ain’t comin’ for a while.” He waves it off. “I got lots more questions.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“He rough, is he? Your O’Driscoll?” Sean asks. “He doesn’t seem the rough kind.”

A whistle from Micah makes Sean shut up, signaling the early arrival of your target. You ready your guns and wait for Javier to shoot the explosives he set. When they go off, you ride in and take out the guards so Micah can get to the lock box. The smoke fades quickly and you ride off to a small clearing in the woods to divide the take. It’s a relief to slide out of the saddle, but a different area of pain settles when you stand.

Sean has a wicked smile on his face. “You lads won’t believe this.”

“Sean.” You warn.

Micah and Javier look between you.

“You’re the one that had such an eventful night ya can’t sit still, ain’t my fault!”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Wait…” Javier says, a smile spreading over his face. “I knew you were acting weird when we rode out.”

“I’m going to kill you, Sean.”

Micah chuckles to himself as he walks back to Baylock. “Let me know if ya want help with that, cowpoke.”

“It’s just a bit a’ fun, boys!” Sean laughs. “Just honest fun!”

You take a few steps towards him and he runs to his horse.

“I know where you sleep, Sean!”

“The O’Driscoll really do that?” Javier asks.

You glare at Javier and he puts his hands up, slowly backing away towards his horse.

“Dutch’ll have a lot a’ questions for ya.” Micah chuckles, leaning forward in his saddle. “Best hide your sweetheart, cowpoke.”

“Or catch Sean and throw him in the river.” Javier says. “That’s always an option.”

You sigh. “Help me throw him in the river?”

Javier smiles, mounting his horse. “My pleasure.”

Micah grins wickedly. “Nothin’ would please me more.”

[van-afton]

NEW STEEL WOOL FNAF TRAILER DROPPED. THIS IS HUGE

Thoughts on it below the cut:

i’ll try not to jinx it but i think this might be steel wool going fully back on track with scary fnaf games again. i think they (including scott, as said in his interview) all learned their lesson with security breach and are now shifting the gears back to how they were originally.

that is to say, I THINK THIS MIGHT BE PEAK???!!

1. who is that in the box?

there are three options. one, clown version of the puppet. two, new character. three, the mimic itself.

the song (grandfathers clock, heavily associated with the puppet) plus the jack in the box makes it really look like it could be the puppet, but i personally think it’s the mimic. i feel like it would be odd to have a game titled “secrets of the mimic” only to preview the puppet with a carnival themed appearance. speaking of which, it doesn’t even look like the puppet at all. the puppet didn’t have a nose. it almost even looks more like ennard than the puppet (but thats kind of a scary thought so lets leave that there)

if you look, the eyes of this little feller look EXTREMELY similar to the mimics. the head shape and eye distance is pretty much the same but idk if that really means anything.

additionally, there’s a seam in the middle. perhaps this line of animatronics may be similar to the funtimes?

2. what is this game gonna be about?

fallfest for SURE. there is a clear carnival theme here. the description for the video clearly states that this game will be looking to the past of fnaf. also the date says 1979. yea.

(can we give steel wool a round of applause for actually giving us a solid date on the timeline? holy shit!!!!)

3. who will this games protagonist be?

first of all: this games protagonist is most likely gonna be some random ass person we’ve never heard of.

BUT if the protagonist is someone we already know, henry or william would be amazing. But i heavily doubt it. i draw the line at my faith in steel wool here.

4. any returning animatronics?

besides obviously the mimic, i’m going to predict that we’ll see carnie and eclipse. judging by this animatronic’s appearance, it lines up really strongly with eclipse’s aesthetic, so i wouldnt be surprised to see him running around. we might see some references to circus baby, i’m not sure.

we might get some version of the main gang but i doubt they’ll be main features in this game.

5. hey what the fuck is this thing

i have no idea.

it looks like twenty different things at once. it also goes by really fast in the trailer. it kind of looks like an eye? or a hole? or something?? or even something under a microscope??? i have zero clue

now that i look closer there’s some speckles of white that look kinda weird. i know the crackles and white spots and distortion are part of this movie reel whatever thing but some of them look kind of odd. like that orange one near the center of the screen in that screenshot i took. I dunno. it almost looks like fire. hey, doesn’t carnie’s station burn down in help wanted 2? maybe this game will end with a fire!

6. how big will this game be?

it’s steel wool studios. i have a feeling it’s going to be somewhat open world, but smaller than SB for sure. we’re at a carnival, not a pizzaplex. if i had to make predictions on gameplay, ummm.. i think it would have minigames for sure, but idk if it would be another “camp out in an office” type game. perhaps we’d run and hide around the carnival? or do minigames to fend off killer animatronics??? we’ll see.

i really think steel wool is on its road to redemption after security breach (love that game but it was indeed questionable). i think this game is going to be incredible. im super excited, especially bc the release date is literally NEXT YEAR!!!!!!!

[spinachandhoney]

SnakeFace episode 14 script

[prone to change]

[script under cut]

  The five rushed through the rain to the York manor, which was the closest option though it was still a far way to run. Kim unlocked the front and ushered everyone inside before slamming the door against the wind.

  “Mom!” Ivan shouted as he hung his coat up. “You home?”

  “I’m upstairs!” Jamie replied. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Kim gathered some towels for the five of them to dry off in the den. Joey fixed a fire while Kim left to make some hot cocoa.

  “Hey, kids,” Jamie smiled. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Hans,” Ivan said, towelling his hair dry. “His mom runs the cafe.”

  “Well, hello, Hans. I’m Ivan’s mother.”

  “Hello,” Hans smiled, hanging his letterman up in front of the fire. 

  “It doesn’t look like the storm is going to let up until later tonight,” Kim said, coming back with a bundle of steaming cups. “Hans, do you want to let your parents know you’ll be home late?”

  “That’s probably a good idea- as long as it’s okay with your parents?”

  “It’s fine with me,” Jamie said. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Hans.”

  The wolf smiled.

  “Oh!” Val sat up. “My stuff should be coming in tomorrow, so there’ll probably be some packages delivered here.”

  “Oh, rad?” Joey looked up. “What theme are you going for?”

  “Probably something similar to my room at home.”

  “Laaaaame.”

  “I mean, I like how my room looks. It’s always dark because of the blackout curtains, so I like to have a lot of candles for a more subtle light source.”

  “Look at you caring about room decor,” Ivan said. “I just threw stuff on the shelves and called it good.”

  “Why would anyone ever let you decorate your own room.”

  “You’re the one with sconces and dead roses as your choice of decoration.”

  “Don’t have to worry about watering the roses if they’re already dead.”

  “He has a point,” Joey admitted.

  “Says the guy who panics at the sight of a wilting leaf.”

  “I pride myself in my gardening skills.”

  There was a pause. “So how long have you all known each other?” Hans asked.

  “Well, I’ve known Ivan and Kim for about two weeks now,” Val said. “And Joey joined the gang on- was it Monday?”

  “Yeah, about two days ago, then,” Joey confirmed.

  “You guys act like you’ve known each other for years,” Hans chuckled.

  “I think that might just be because of Joey’s sarcasm,” Val muttered.

  “It’s a gift,” Joey said confidently.

  Kim let Hans pick a room to stay the night in, bringing out some of the inflatable mattresses for him and Val. The wolf happened to choose the room next to Val’s, which shared one of the master bathrooms. Two sinks, a large bathtub, and a double-wide shower. The rooms were direct across the building from Ivan and Kim’s rooms, which were on either side of the second bathroom on the same floor. Joey’s room was on the adjacent wall with its own balcony. Kim made sure to cover Val’s window with the closest thing to blackout curtains in case the sun happened to be out the next morning.

  “The storm isn’t supposed to let up until around eight in the morning,” Kim said as she covered the window. “But it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Yeah, I’d hate to wake up to third-degree sunburns,” Val joked. Kim rolled her eyes.

  “I still think it’s amazing how well you all get along not even in two weeks of knowing each other.”

  “You’re relevant to that comment too, you know. I mean, I’ve known you not even twenty-four hours and we’re practically sharing a room.”

  “There are worse ways to get to know someone.”

  “Alright, that should be good,” Kim stepped away from the window. “Sorry, it isn’t much, but it’ll keep you safe.”

  “That’s all that really matters right now. If worse comes to worst, your parents are literal witch doctors.”

  Kim laughed. “This is true.”

<bonus comic>

Literally just Joey crying over a wilted plant (Shinji pose)

[carcins]

// HEY GANG ME AGAIN !! Life is Rough™ and I continue to need sustenance to survive. You know how it goes.

// Feel free to ask for more information, but essentially, I’ve been under an insane amount of stress since November, and prioritizing my health has begun to show me the financial consequences. I’m on my province’s medication coverage as of a few months back, otherwise I would be choosing between eating and mental stability again by now. I had an unexpected bill come through and it really ruined my fragile cheque-to-cheque budget. I am not in danger in this moment, but I am very much at risk, and we all know it can spiral fast.

// The current goal is about $200 to make it through to my next pay. The most pressing is $80 for a bulk bag of cat food (we just ran out yesterday and we’re running on fancy feast). This also includes $50 for harm reduction supplies (I work as a public servant and need to restock), and the remaining $70 for groceries until next pay.

// All prices are in USD. Definitely happy to discuss other options not listed here, including possible discounts. PayPal is https://www.paypal.me/jeoff. You’re more than welcome to donate without getting a commission but I might kick rocks about it (/pos). If you can’t afford to send anything, please reblog/share this post! Thank you!

[willow-lark]

2 and/or 4, please! Hope you’re doing well!

hello hello vee! 💕🫂

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

ooh okay this actually just happened to me when i was writing my last byler soulmate au. i've published two different byler au series like this (and written three, but that first one i wrote will not be seeing the light of day lol) and in the first two i had the first part will's pov, and the second part mike's. but when i was writing the sequel to iimdittgttsy (GAH why did i make such a long-ass quote the title), again supposed to be mike's pov, it was just Not Working. there was a lot i wrote from his pov (and it ended up being most of the fic), but i ended up realizing that will was simply Not Done Talking and he had Things to Say and Angst to Work Through!!! he literally would not shut up, and i had to switch off between his and mike's pov. i think it turned out pretty great tbh, but it was definitely annoying having to break up my formula. perhaps i will write a part three in which mike gets more of a say...

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

hoo boy. if there's a god of carrying around plot bunnies for years and years at a time and/or abandoning them in wips it is probably me. i try to not let it weigh on me. but here's an incomplete list of my stranger things plot bunnies that i haven't gotten around to:

will escapes the UD on his own sometime between s1 and s3 and runs away, ultimately linking up with kali and her gang, who then have to return to hawkins to help el/the squad with the UD/henry. (potentially ft. will-has-powers and/or birthdaygate)

byler reunite in college after drunkenly hooking up

art teacher who runs the gsa!will & new english teacher!mike reunite. it's awkward.

max finds out about "it's not my fault you don't like girls" and confronts mike

will joins scoops troop in s3

fic exploring max's life post-s2

other party members visiting el at the cabin post s2/separate henderhop and hopclair oneshots

the byers hide el in their house post s1

...if anyone wants to know more about any of these lmk... maybe i'll actually start writing them again 👀😅

fanfic ask game!!

[coollyinterferes]

How did Speedwagon get his automobile that was shown in the manga?

unprompted asks 【always accepting!】

//Hi nonnie! Apologies for this being so late!! irl has been getting in the way a lot, buuuut on the bright side, this is gonna be a long reply, so I hope that makes up for the wait if only a little!! <3 Regarding your question, the simplest of answers is that they got it in a very illegal manner. This means that, yeah, the gang stole it! Additional bit: they specifically went for a steam car. This was due to cost constraints, as the fuel materials for steam automobiles were more affordable than petrol (the latter was considerably more expensive at the time).

((Under a read more for length reasons))

Now, please allow me to explain a little bit of real life facts and history here before we get into the How Did These Funky Criminals Got Their Hands On That Automobile, because it is important to keep in mind these bits of info for the general context of the story. I’m going to keep it as short as possible, promise!:

Automobiles were not very common in Victorian England. It is said that there were merely about a few thousand in existence, for example. Additionally, the newer models tended to be on the pricier side due to them running on petrol (“newer models” as in those being manufactured from the last 15-ish years of the Victorian era and on, which would be 1885-ish to 1901, approx), and so petrol cars were not much of a thing you’d see outside of the highest social classes since only the very very rich could afford shedding money on petrol every time and as often as a car needs it.

In the case of the automobile we see the gang driving around however, well, it turns out that it appears to have a boiler on it, which very likely means the car is a steam car. Steam cars had boilers on them as part of their fuel mechanisms, and they were able to run on different types of fuels too, with coal being one of them. Wood was another, and there were a few more as well. As mentioned before, these were cheaper and way more affordable options than petrol. And, since we’re on the topic of cost-efficiency, it also needs to be said that a steam car was also cheaper on the long run than it would be depending on a horse-drawn coach that required at least one trained horse to move around (two for better performance) + all the maintenance and work that taking proper care of a horse requires. So, definitely, a steam car was the gang’s best bet as they sometimes have to move around the city for their little businesses, and which could be insanely time consuming if you had no means of transportation (since London is pretty big and, if I’m not mistaken, it was also one of the biggest cities -if not the biggest of all- in the world during the Victorian era).

With all this said, let’s now dive into the details behind the origins of the gang’s car!

For starters, they have owned the car for a couple years by the time the main events in PB take place, which is when we first (and last, unfortunately) see it. Basically, they got it somewhere around the year 1885. They had been planning to get a car for a while before that, though, especially for traveling long distances within London and which could be a difficult task or plain out very time consuming if you didn’t own a horse-drawn coach or any other types of vehicles to move around as we discussed before. Omnibuses already existed back then (they were sort of a “double-decker” communal horse-drawn carriage, basically) but, of course, their use was very limited in the sense that they only covered pre-set/determined routes, they didn’t provide any privacy for the passengers as they would all sit right next to each other and kinda crammed during rush hours (privacy is a must for the majority of the gang’s jobs, really, so this was a huge disadvantage). Omnibuses also had limited work schedules and -as far as I know- they didn’t work overnight (which is when criminal activity would be normally the most active). All that on top of the fact that omnibuses charged every passenger a fare per trip, just like present day buses and other public transportations do, all in addition to the very limited (almost completely null) possibilities of “travelling for free” on them due to space limitations. So, in the end, omnibuses weren’t an option either save for very specific instances.

From day one of this idea, their goal was to steal a car rather than legally getting one, this because, well, it is no surprise that it would take them years to be able to afford a car with their income unless they used up to the last shilling they got from their shady businesses (extortion, stealing, “protection”, and so on) and which would inevitably would put them as well as the rest of Speedwagon’s men into serious financial trouble. And even if they did so, it would still take them some time to be able to save enough to afford it, as they don’t have the full amount ready to be shed. One thing that most people in general brush off in favor of romanticizing the Victorian era in general is that, as silly and “obvious” as it may sound: The rich were really rich, while the poor were really poor, and the system was pretty much built to keep things that way (hence the huge gap between social classes), so it was virtually impossible for a poor person to climb up in social status unless they somehow inherited some fortune or married a wealthy person (the latter being something largely frowned upon, as most Victorians were pretty classist, so any rich person marrying someone of a “lesser” status would definitely be looked down upon and given very weird looks at the very very least, all while their partner would be seen as some kind of opportunist and fortune-seeker and would never be seen as “one of them” regardless of how genuine the marriage actually was). Essentially, saving up wasn’t much of an option for the lower classes, which Robert and his gang, the rest of his men, and all of the slums (obvs) were part of.

They didn’t have a target in mind yet at the time the idea was first suggested (adding this bit here, it was also Tattoo the first one to suggest the idea of getting a car). Overall, the idea of getting a car was firmly adopted from the start, but they soon discarded the possibility of stealing a car in London. The reason being that, due to horseless cars being not too common, they would quickly get spotted before they could even customize the car and make it look different enough to pass as a whole different one (yes, carjackings seem to have been way more difficult to successfully pull off back then due to the limited existences of automobiles were overall, especially in England)

And so they put the bullseye on non-Londoners visiting the city instead. Yeah, the idea sounded silly even to them. Having to follow some guy in order to steal their shit and all, but that was the most viable option at the time, really. After some looking around, they eventually found their guy: A man who was basically some rich scum. The kind of rich guy who has a lot of money and who feels like that somehow gives him the right to treat anyone below him like less than garbage (as attested by some of the people they later got their info from), so the gang really didn’t have any qualms in stealing the fuck out of him. Finding his general info was not a very difficult task, especially through Robert’s best and main informant for most of his criminal activities (you’re gonna learn more about in a minute btw >:3).

Their victim didn’t live in London and rarely ever visited the city. His actual residence was located in one of London’s adjacent counties, too. Not too far from the city, but also not too close to it and, thus, making it difficult for anyone (at the time, of course) to trace the car all the way to London if the gang managed to successfully snatch it all the way there without being spotted.

It is also mandatory to mention that both Li and Robert knew how to drive by this point, with Li having learned merely out of curiosity not long ago, and with Robert having learned from a now ex-boyfriend that he had during a weeks long trip he did to France the previous year (as far as I know, steam cars were more common in France than they were in England at the time). Funnily enough, and despite being the one who originally suggested the idea of stealing a car, Tattoo didn’t know how to drive at the time and so he was not an “active” part during the actual heist. The fourth guy in the gang, the one with the funky and colorful hat in the pic (and who was unnamed in the manga and completely left out in the anime >:/ ), while he also didn’t know how to drive back then, he was the main informant I mentioned earlier for this heist and thus a key part on it.

“Small” side note: Even though Funky Hat Lad -who I’ll be referring to as “Lemmy” from here on, as that’s the nickname he has in my headcanons- is (currently) not a side muse on the blog, I consider him part of Robert’s “main” gang, he just doesn’t hang around a lot as the other three do, but he’s still a close friend and a valuable ally to the three. As stated before, he’s also one of Robert’s most important men along with Tattoo and Li. Most of the time acts as an informant for Robert and his men, however, he can also double and take other roles within the gang whenever it’s needed. He isn’t much of a fighter but he’s armed at all times and he definitely won’t hesitate to use his gun or his knife if the situation calls for it. He also occasionally takes part in the “interrogatories” the gang runs whenever they need to forcefully coax information out of an enemy/rival.

Back to our story, once all the information was gathered and confirmed and the gang knew where and when to strike, all they had to do was go to where this guy lived. As mentioned before, this was a 3-man heist: Robert, Li and Lemmy. The former two to do the driving and most of the physical work (as mentioned before, they were aiming for a “stealth hit and run” but they were prepared in case things went wrong and shit got violent as well as in case some technical issue occurred with the car), and the latter to guide them around, find their objective, and leave the town as swiftly as they came and so everything went out as planned. Tattoo stayed back for this one, partly due to him being unable to drive and the heist already having enough people to take care of the violent part if things came down to that, and partly because he was in charge of keeping an eye on Ogre Street and the gang’s businesses while the boss and the others were away. Like, sure, there’s a lot more men and gangs working for Speedwagon outside of his main guys (Tattoo, Li, and Lemmy), but there always has to be someone assuming the position of the boss to make sure things go smoothly. As you can tell when it comes to such a violent and chaotic place like Ogre Street, it’s impossible to leave it completely unsupervised without shit going really wild (usually but not exclusively started by one of the many and smaller rival gangs), so there always has to be someone designated by Speedwagon to keep things under some form of control in his absence.

One of the gang’s specialties, Robert’s more precisely, are break ins. Stealthy break-ins. Paired up with the info Lemmy had gathered, bypassing security at the guy’s mansion was not an issue, and so the heist itself went without much issue (none, actually), as it ended up being what they’d aimed for from the start: A stealth mission. This was the best outcome, especially considering what I mentioned earlier, about the very limited amount of cars in existence back then and how that could complicate things when it came to stealing a car. With that considered, the last thing you’d want would be for your victim not only to realize on the spot that he’s getting robbed, but to also see you and increase your chances of being successfully tracked down by police and which, inevitably, would also very likely end up turning into prison time for all people involved (especially in this case, where their victim was some heartless scum).

They managed to bring the car over to London without any issues. They even picked some linen and other random but innocuous items as they made their hasty way out of town to put on some of the seats and sort of make the car go unnoticed at first glance to any bystanders’ eyes in case they were later asked in some investigation by the police (and which they knew was going to happen at some point, so they had to cover their tracks in any way they could).

Back in London, they immediately went to hide the automobile near one of the gang’s safe houses in the slums (one that had enough space to keep it indoors). Through Robert’s connections and some favors some folks owed to him, they were able to sort of customize the automobile over the course of days/a couple weeks, making enough changes on it so it wasn’t easily recognizable in case they ever crossed paths with it’s now former owner, but also keeping a good balance with those changes as not to make the car stand out from any others around town and attract unwanted attention. So, mostly the upholstery was changed from dark brown to the lighter brown color you see in the manga, as well as the car itself being re-painted from black to a dark shade of grey-ish brown, along with other minor changes. The side-seat you see Lemmy sitting on was added much later, once they were certain any potential police investigations were over and the car was “officially” theirs.

[nagasakidivision]

Drama Track: Double Effect 2-3

"Next few days" actually means "a day," apparently.

Okay, I know that Kyushu dialects are traditionally localized into super strong Midwestern English but that doesn’t translate super well into text and I thought very very hard about the associated stereotypes of people from Kyushu (loud, backwoods-y, friendly, free-spirited) and I think a super thick Vermon’ accent is closer in spirit since it has a lot of the same associations. If there's anyone actually from Vermont, I am very sorry but this is probably better than me trying to write something to the tune of Marge Gundersson.

This almost ended with Haruto using a Scouser accent because it’s way more of a direct parallel so count your blessings this hasn’t resulted in him ending every other sentence with “luv” or “la’.” But diegetically most Japan-to-English dubs are assumed to use American English, so.

So the next two parts are just the usual "let's all sit down and talk about our feelings" things that's going to be standard from here on out. It's also the reason that this ended up being four parts instead of just two. Apologies.

[Thug 1]: They saw him in the warehouse. He dipped off somewhere but he can’t have gone far.

[Thug 2]: Pick up the fucking pace, then. If we’re the ones who catch him, we’ll be made men.

[Haruto, interally]: ...This would be a hell of a lot easier if using mics were an option. But I can’t draw even more of these guys to us.

[Haruto]: (takes in a shaky breath) Okay, here goes….

(A loud clatter as Haruto kicks a can, staggering into the alleyway.)

[Haruto, slurring his words]: Oi! Fuck are you two doing here?

[Thug 1]: The hell?!

[Thug 2, under his breath]: Just some drunk hick, ignore him.

(There’s soft footfalls drawing near.)

[Haruto, now leaning in even harder to his accent and speaking even louder]: Hah? You two don’ sound like you’re from ‘round here. Ah, you got los’, didn’ you? Nobody ever comes t’ this part of town.

[Thug 2]: We’re-- we’re not lost.

[Haruto]: Don’t be shy, now, happens t’ tourists all the time. I’ll show you back t’ town center, c’mon.

(A soft smack as he hits one of them on the back, trying to draw the men’s attentions away.)

[Thug 1]: Hey! Piss off.

[Haruto]: Jus’ a short walk this-a-way.

(Stumbling footsteps as the other two men are dragged forward. The rustle of a cape, boots hitting steel as Shirou climbs the ladder.)

[Shirou, softly enough to not be heard over the angry voices of the thugs]: Thank you.

(Haruto catches Shirou out of the corner of his eye, and breathes a small sigh of relief. It’s short-lived, and followed by a gasp of shock.)

[Thug 2]: Last warning, asshole. Back off. We got better things to do.

[Haruto, internally]: ...Shit. That's a knife. They would be armed, wouldn’t they?

[Haruto]: Hey, hey. I get the picture. I’ll be outta your hair, now.

(He backs away, then runs. One last glimpse at the rooftop. It’s empty.)

[Haruto]: …Goddamnit. How do I get back?

(A soft, raspy bark.)

[Haruto]: ...Huh? Lucia?

(Two more barks. She grabs his pant leg in her teeth and pulls gently.)

[Haruto]: Watch it! That’s expensive. Fine, I’m going.

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

[Damien]: Oh, you found him! Good girl, Lucia!

[Haruto]: Shirou.

(Shirou says nothing, but lets out a long sigh.)

[Damien]: O-kaaaay. Well, close call, but the gang’s all back together now, right? This could have gone way worse. Hey, quick thinking, Haruto. That’s twice now you’ve gotten us out of a pinch. You’re a natural-born liar!

[Haruto]: ...Don’t say that like it’s a compliment.

[Shirou]: Given the situation, isn’t it?

[Damien]: Yeah, like, not even a second of hesitation there. Seriously impressive.

[Haruto]: I was just trying to save Shirou’s life.

[Damien]: And you did. Isn’t that worth it?

[Shirou]: Double effect. Isn’t that right, Haruto?

[Haruto]: Hey. Don’t use my words agai—

(He trails off.)

[Haruto]: ...Yeah. You’re right. I guess.

[Damien]: Alright, well, I guess I owe Haruto a better explanation of all this. Let’s get back to the hotel and we can look over the documents then.

(A too-long silence hangs in the air again.)

[Damien]: ...Shirou. You got the records, right?

[Shirou]: ……

[Shirou]: I need to go back in.

[Damien]: You absolutely do not.

[Haruto]: He’s right. Those guys were armed. I almost got stabbed and I was just being annoying. And they’re actively looking for you. What is going back in there going to accomplish?

[Shirou]: We can prove that Chuouku’s been collaborating with the yakuza. The heat will die down soon. I can still finish the mission.

[Damien]: Yeah, if you want to die. They’re not just going to turn and go home in an hour, man. And there’s no guarantee they’re not going to figure out you’re after the paperwork and not their money and move that somewhere safer.

[Shirou]: ...It’s worth it. Haruto, didn’t you say you knew this was a risk we’d all take?

[Haruto]: …

[Haruto, thinking]: There’s no way he’ll listen to reason. He’s just not that kind of person. He’s completely driven by his own ideals. But I can work with that.

[Haruto]: ...Hey. What are you going to do if we win?

[Shirou]: What?

[Haruto]: You heard me. Let’s say we pull this off. The Party of Words is gone. Solaris is exposed. You and I both know you’ve been working yourself to death trying to make that happen. What are your plans once that’s out of the way?

[Shirou]: I don’t see what this has to do with the issue at hand. Why make plans for the future when there’s no guarantee we’re going to see it?

[Haruto]: That’s my point. Shirou, you’ve got something you’re willing to die for, but that’s only half the equation. What do you have to live for?

[Shirou]: …

[Shirou]: What about you? Neither of us have been doing much else for the past couple years.

[Haruto]: I mean, to start with, I’ve got a dissertation to finish. And theories to prove. I can’t prove anything if I can’t live what I’m preaching myself, nobody's going to let a hypocrite change the world. And I’m not aiming to die before I change the world.

(A pause.)

[Damien]: ...What are you all looking at me for?

(He sighs.)

[Damien]: I...look, I don’t know if we can actually change the world the way you guys want. I just know I can change myself. And I know this is the right thing to do to change myself. Whether or not this works, I can at least be a revolution to myself even if I’m not a revolution to the world.

[Haruto]: So. There you go. I’m not saying we have it worked out, but we’ve at least got an idea of what we want to do.

(There’s an uncomfortable pause.)

[Haruto]: C’mon. Shirou, let’s go. We need you. We’re not a team without you.

[Damien]: I’ve got contacts in other places. Something else is going to turn up.

[Shirou]: ...Alright. Let’s go back. I suppose we have a tournament to win as it stands.

[aspenforest732]

Bello Licentiae Chapter 1: A Fresh Start

Summary:

tw: gang activity, foster care, anxiety Moving into the dorms

Notes:

everything (except their hero costume) Akira has ever considered theirs is in their duffle bag. Figured we’d start with a little fluff after all the trauma that ended last fic 😊 ‘text’ JSL Text thoughts

Akira lazily spun the chair at Hitoshi’s desk with their crutches propped against the wall as they helped Hitoshi decide what they could pack. So far, they figured posters and figurines weren’t expected to stay, but books, bedding, stuffed animals, and small storage were up in the air. ‘ I thought you knew more about this from foster homes, ’ Akira signed exasperatedly.

“It’s different, though,” Hitoshi sighed, dramatically flopping onto the bed in between options. “We’re not leaving the home, just the house. Right?”

Akira shrugged, tossing their hands up lightly as a small smile slipped onto their face from the lack of effort it took. ‘ I think so? At least for you. We can worry about my room later, though. ’

“How are you listeners doing?” Yamada asked from the doorway, knocking softly on the open door.

Akira and Hitoshi looked at each other, silently checking each other’s comfort levels. With a small sigh, Akira hesitantly signed, ‘We’re a little confused. What can each of us take?’

Yamada cocked his head, drawing an awkward chuckle from Hitoshi. “I thought we gave you the school’s list. Do you need another copy?” He beamed and rushed on, “Or do you want to add more to the shopping list? We can get you anything new for the dorms if you want to keep some of your stuff here.”

Already committed to taking the lead this conversation, Akira tensed but forced themself to sign, ‘ No, what can we bring? What can we take from the rooms? ’

Yamada still looked between them confused for a moment before the bright grin faded into a soft smile. “I get ya, kiddos. Can I bring Shou in on this conversation?” At their nods, he quickly returned with his husband. “We bought everything in the rooms for you two specifically. If you want to leave some items here for when you visit on weekends and breaks, that’s totally fine, but you can bring anything you want with you.”

“As long as it’s on the list,” Aizawa added. “If it’s not, you’ll need to run it by us first so we can make sure it’s within guidelines and will fit. Anything you want or have to leave, we can buy another, sometimes smaller, copy for your dorm rooms.”

“Yeah, little listeners,” Yamada softly smiled. “We want you to feel comfortable and safe at school, yeah? We’ll also be a phone call away if you need us and we’re not on chaperone duty.”

‘ Everything? ’ Akira signed, eyes flickering between the couple and Hitoshi, who seemed more relieved than surprised.

Aizawa huffed, “Except the bed, yes. We already planned on getting you a futon for the dorm when we go shopping this afternoon.”

Akira slipped out a few minutes later with a nod to Hitoshi as Aizawa helped him decide which of their items not to take. They padded to their room and started adding more of the blankets and plushies to their box before pausing at the weighted blanket. Mad Banquet had already confirmed that their parents agreed to the dorm setup, although Shoto’s sperm donor wasn’t happy about it. Akira wasn’t entirely sure if he was moving from Dekusquad to their group or double dipping, but the kid definitely needed a break.

Speaking of needing a break … Akira mused, running their hands through their hair as they tried not to think too hard on the implications of dorm life. Would they be expected to return to the Yamazawa house on weekends? Would they even be allowed back into the warehouse district? Akira’s thoughts swirled in uncertainty. The Inoue still hadn’t made a statement on their status, and it wouldn’t be long before someone leaked or found just the right piece of information to uncover Akira’s relation.

Their phone vibrating pulled Akira from their thoughts, and they quickly picked it up with video. ‘Haru? Is everything alright? ’ they asked.

“Yeah, Mortis, everything’s fine here. Just wanted to check in, buddy. Do you know if they’re allowing you back any time soon?”

Akira shook their head, ‘ After the first weekend, we have to sign out of the dorms, and I doubt they’ll let me sign out to the district. Eraser will probably want me here. ’

“You could always sneak out, right? That’s something teenagers do.” Haru grinned mischievously.

Akira winced, ‘ I told you they know where I am, right? What do you think would happen if U.A. drops custody? I can’t risk that, and besides, you’re talking about sneaking out past multiple pro heroes. ’

“I know you better than that,” Haru rolled his eyes playfully. “But seriously, we miss you out here. Isao keeps asking about his little shadow, and Dabi’s brooding more than usual. Oh, and Boss said you should show Kid Lavender the protective signs.”

Akira smiled fondly, ‘ When is he not brooding? ’ After hesitating a moment, they added, ‘ I’ll see what I can do, but- ’ After dropping another hoodie into their box, Akira turned around to start on books and saw Yamada hovering in the doorway, concern written all over his face.

‘Gotta go, ’ Akira quickly signed, flashing the sign for safe adult before hanging up. They took a steadying breath and turned back to Yamada. ‘ When did you come in? I need to know what context you have. ’

“Sneaking out,” Yamada said gently after a moment as his expression softened. “He’s the ‘family friend’ you mentioned, right?”

‘ Yeah, we check up on each other, ’ Akira stiffly signed. ‘ He’s just worried and was teasing. ’

After a moment, Yamada perked up. “Oh! I came to see if you’re up for getting more clothes with autumn approaching. We were planning on getting Toshi a few things, and your sweaters are looking pretty worn down. We even found a shop that specializes in adaptive clothing if you want to check that out.”

Akira nodded after a moment, a little overwhelmed at Yamada’s energy. ‘ I need a haircut. Can I go home for a few hours for that?’

“Oh! I can take you to my hairdresser if you want,” Yamada grinned broadly. “Ni’s very discreet and does exactly what you want. I’ve been going to nim for almost ten years now.”

‘ It’s really no trouble, ’ Akira hurriedly signed. ‘ Yasmin does everyone’s hair. ’

“Mori,” Aizawa sighed from behind his husband. “We’re not comfortable with you going unsupervised so soon after the attack and your family came into the picture. And I know you don’t want either of us to go with you, so you can either go to Zashi’s stylist or we can find another.”

Knowing the hero was technically one of their guardians, Akira deflated and signed for the first option. Maybe they could even go for a more adventurous androgynous look. Short hair did always sound interesting …

Akira readjusted their duffle bag as Class 1-A trickled into the courtyard in front of the Heights Alliance dorm. Fortunately, the forecast was pretty mild for mid-August, so they were getting by with crutches instead of their hybrid wheelchair from Hatsume. Akira looked forward to testing out some of the extra features in training, but that would have to wait until after the provisional license exam.

“Mori!” Kirishima called out as he rolled up with Katsuki and Kaminari. “Good to see you in one piece. I love the new hairstyle. Good to see you, too, Shinso.”

‘ Good to be back, and thanks. ’ Akira tentatively smiled, running a hand over the satisfying fuzz of their undercut. ‘ Any trouble with your guardians? ’

“The old hag was glad to get rid of me,” Katsuki huffed. Akira’s brows drew together as they shared a look with Hitoshi before Kirishima spoke up.

“Yeah, my parents totally understood. Didn’t take Aizawa-sensei much convincing.”

Kaminari’s smile seemed a little more forced as they added, “Yeah, no problems here.”

As the other students filed in, Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly at the rescue team members. Koji and Fumikage stood a little closer than usual, although careful to respect Akira’s space when they started to tense. They sent a teasing glance to Hitoshi as he was a little closer to Kaminari than they needed to be, but Hitoshi just rolled his eyes.

Akira winced as Aizawa brought up expelling most of the class if not for All Might’s retirement and expected them to just follow with the foreboding cloud hanging over the class. Katsuki fondly looked to Kirishima and shoved money at him, muttering about night vision goggles before stalking off to the dorms. He called over his shoulder, “If you want dinner, you’d better stay out of the kitchen, damn extras. We’re having chicken tempura tonight.”

Midoriya went off about Katsuki’s apparently amazing cooking as something twisted in Akira’s gut. They looked away from his group, briefly catching Aoyama’s eyes as the boy’s expression flashed with uncertainty. Akira slunk towards the dorms, closely followed by Mad Banquet. Damnit, he knows something.

Aizawa walked through the dorm layout, pointing out the automatic door buttons, key fab access for dorm rooms, and the need to keep walkways clear as Akira noted the lower-than-usual height of the counters and other commonly used surfaces. The individual rooms were large enough to maneuver their wheelchair, and Akira flashed Aizawa a grateful look at their room being on a corner on the second floor. The two windows provided enough light and view to help the space feel less confined without the added nervousness of being on a higher floor. Akira was right next to Koji and had no one directly above them, so they also shouldn’t have to worry about noise disruptions at night. Mad Banquet was all on the same floor, except Shoto, and Shinso pouted a little at not being in the empty room next to Kaminari.

‘ You can always visit, ’ Akira signed, jostling their shoulder lightly. Hitoshi waved them off with a slight smile and blush, which Akira took as a win. They quickly shoved down the thought that they’d never get to tease Asami like this.

Later, as Katsuki worked on preparing dinner, Akira caught his attention and pointed to the blender. At his nod, they quickly shifted it to the stool side of the large island and grabbed their usual ingredients from the fridge and pantry. The air quickly filled with the smell of spices and oil as Katsuki worked, and Akira found themself enjoying how similar, although better, it was to Dabi trying to cook.

“Did you need something?” Katsuki asked, stiffly leaning against the counter with arms crossed as Akira stuck around with their smoothie.

‘I know you have Counselor, but if you want to talk, I’m here for you,’ Akira offered. ‘You looked a bit beat up when you warped in, and I’m familiar with the physical and mental aftermath of various quirks.’

For a moment, Akira thought he was going to explode on them, but Katsuki closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. “Thank you for the offer,” he said haltingly, almost like a script. “I’ll let you know if I want to take you up on it.”

Akira offered a small grin, ‘ Great. Thanks for taking the moment. ’ A few small pops were the only sound that followed Akira to the elevator as they felt a belated sense of relief at the stove being electric instead of gas.

They stopped by Hitoshi and Fumikage’s rooms to check on their progress unpacking and appreciate the latter’s dark taste. Akira looked curiously at the pentagram and definitively non-Shinto altar tucked into the corner of his room, but at Fumikage’s discomfort, they dropped the subject. They spent the next hour playing with Koji’s rabbit, Kerfluffle, while he finished unpacking his stuffed animals. The pastels and soft rug lulled Akira into relaxing against the bed frame as they tried to ignore the edge being in a new space brought. Kerfluffle tucked himself under their arm, demanding pets as the soft bunny settled against their stomach. Koji cooed when he next looked over but let them be as he added a giraffe to the arrangement on his bed.

After dinner, the girls proposed a room decoration contest. Fumikage was the first victim, and Akira quickly got the others out of his room, giving Midoriya a glare that held a little more heat than they meant to slip as the boy cringed back in confusion. Hitoshi’s room held a few sketches of Eraser Head and Present Mic posters on the walls along with a meditative mat and some weights. His color scheme was mostly purple and black with a few splashes of yellow.

“It’s so… soft,” Aoyama said as the class peeked into Akira’s room. The floor was mostly covered in a dark purple rug similar to what they had at the Yamazawa house, and there were various cat plushies in a pile next to their futon. A bookshelf held a few nick knacks and their Latin books, and a couple Fat Gum posters hung on the walls. Their wheelchair was folded against the far wall next to their bed, and two beanbags sat by a wheelchair-accessible desk.

“Is that a nest?” Uraraka giggled, pointing to the pile of blankets.

‘ Futon, ’ Akira shrugged. ‘ I find it easier to sleep on. ’

“Are these in Latin?” Ida asked, reaching out to their bookshelf.

‘ Yeah, I like translating poems mostly, although some of the headstones are pretty funny, ’ Akira signed, watching him carefully.

“Certainly! I prefer the romantic languages, but Latin is quite an admirable undertaking.”

Akira nodded, ‘ To each their own. Shall we move on? ’

They felt another gut twist at Midoriya’s All Might-themed room, quickly backtracking into Fumikage to his confusion. He and Aoyama were just too much to process at the same time as moving in, Akira reasoned. From the look in their eyes, Mad Banquet would probably stage an intervention soon, though. After spending a few minutes blinking the sheer brightness of Aoyama’s room from their eyes, Akira made a mental note to never step foot in it again.

Next Chapter

[lexallisonthailandtrip]

Happy Christmas! One day ahead in Thailand, and discovered last night it’s the year 2566 in Thailand. The Buddhist calendar is observed here which started year 1 when Buddha reached nirvana, pretty neat!

We woke up today and exchanged the gifts we got for each other at the market yesterday, had another perfect breakfast, and decided to try to hike to the “Big Tree” today. The largest tree in Thailand, a 500 year old sapung tree, is at the northern most end of Koh Yao Noi. We took our scooter on a long road up the center of the island that twisted and turned through the jungle, then turned to dirt. It was about a 10km ride on this out and back, dead-end road. There were some big hills, rocks, potholes and puddles and it gave my new scooter skills a run for their money. Allison had to hop off a few times because I was not confident getting around/up/down some of the ruts in the road with both of us onboard. But, we made it!

The road dead ends into a fancy exclusive resort with a guard at the entrance that stopped us and directed us toward the trail to the big tree. We walked for a while, and realized that we actually hiked the last part of the road when we saw two bikes parked at the trailhead. Now we had the option: hike through rubber trees or go down to the beach. There were no signs or markings, but we knew the direction of the tree was through the rubber tree farm. We went through the trees for a bit, but lost the trail and decided to turned back for the beach to look for someone that could point us in the right direction. We had the beach almost completely to ourselves, and eventually another couple walked up to us - we asked them about the big tree and they said they intended to ask us the same thing! We decided we’d give it one more shot - hiking through the rubber trees - and started back up the trail. We kept going, a little further this time, and found some string lights along a rock wall. After following the lights as far as they went, we (again) ran out of trail. We could see the top of the tree, but decided getting to the base wasn’t happening on the route we discovered. Bummer!

We hiked out, took the bike down the long difficult road, and then cruised to the west side of the island. It started raining, but was fun going through the rural parts of the island with rubber trees, coconut farms, and rice paddies. At one point, we saw a gang of monkeys hiking through some rubber trees and we’re grateful they weren’t on the “trail” to the Big tree. When we got to the restaurant, we ordered sushi, vegetables, fried crab and shrimp, and fruit smoothies for Christmas dinner! Afterwards we walked to the end of the long pier that cut through the mangrove forest, then headed back out on the roads cruising on the scooter. We stopped along the way for drinks, and coffees, and then arrived home. We walked down the hill for one more drink, and some waffles, by the beach while the sun set. Then walked up to the restaurant for egg rolls, Tom Yum soup, and hung out on our porch with our black cat that’s been visiting - that I named Santa (he showed up on Christmas Eve)!

A perfect Christmas in Thailand!

[activatebutterflyshield]

Day 5! Okay, this WIP is really hecking long (5000+ words and counting) so I’m splitting it up into a few posts over the next few days. It was a response to a @/writing-prompt-s’ prompt, but I lost the original post. Again. Whoops!

-

Debt (Part 1)

-

Albatross got up to answer the desperate rapping at the safehouse door. Everyone but Magpie was sleeping off the training, but the right-hand man was too worked up to rest. Pulling on his peaked hood, he looked through the peephole Magpie had installed, and saw… Lily of the Valley?

She was certainly the plant-powered heroine, but the ragged figure looked almost nothing like the fearless super they had time and time again faced in open battle and negotiations alike. Lily’s long hair was limp and soaked in the rain, framing a face of running makeup and eyes red from crying. She wore plainclothes, jeans and a t-shirt, but they were muddy and torn and maybe even scorched besides being fully soaked through. Her arms were covered in bruises and a few hastily bandaged cuts. She was also barefoot, her feet swollen and red from running across the Los Angeles concrete.

Without hesitating, Albatross threw open the door as fast as his clawed hands could undo the four locks and two deadbolts. It slammed against the wall, and Lily flinched at the noise before looking up. Though the hero was nowhere near Albatross’ six foot four inches, she had always projected confidence and power to equal every member of the Murder of Crows. But now she was far tinier than her five foot two frame, hunched and shivering in the storm.

“A-Albat-t-tross?” Lily stammered, stumbling forward slowly, “I-I-I didn’t know where else to—“

Her words cut off as she fell into the warehouse, caught safely by Albatross’ waiting arms. He supported her with one wing and one arm as he re-bolted the door, before picking her up easily and striding into the common area.

Magpie looked up, his never-still fingers still clacking the keys of his computer. “What was that no— Lily?”

Albatross nodded. “Soaked through, beat up, and robbed blind, I reckon. Wake up the Murder. I gotta lay her out somewhere…”

The techie was up and off to the resting rooms before Albatross had finished speaking, computer station abandoned. He laid Lily out on the second-hand dining table the Murder used for meals and planning, carefully inspecting her injuries.

Four sets of running feet hammered down the hallway as the rest of the Murder burst into the common area. Swallowtail came first, her arms full of spare clothes and first aid equipment. Magpie and Harpy entered next, followed by their leader, Midnight Raven. All of them came to Albatross’ side at the table.

“Oh, Lily,” Swallowtail muttered, wringing her hands as Harpy began first aid, “What happened to you?”

Magpie had broken out his camera, taking detailed photos of the heroine’s injuries. “A super must’ve done this, no way could some punk burn Lily in the middle of a storm with a Zippo.”

“What do you make of this, Raven?” Albatross asked him.

“Well,” the leader of the Murder responded, casting his eyes over the unconscious Lily, “She either trusts us, or was in such a bad position that we were the best option. But I agree with Magpie; those burns were made by a super. The shape’s around the size of a hand, and they’re where a mugger would grab someone, on the arm and around the torso.”

Harpy looked up from applying a new bandage to a large, rough cut on Lily’s forearm, not even pausing while he spoke. “I think one of the gangs is responsible for this one, boss. Claw marks, burns, bruises, and mud? We’re nowhere near a park, so that’s at least three different powers, possibly more.”

Raven nodded. “How long ago do you think this happened, Harpy?”

“Not more than an hour ago, I’d say. If she ran straight here and collapsed, and given her condition, I’d bet on no more than thirty minutes ago.”

Raven nodded again. “Alright then. It’s what, nine-thirty? Get some rest. We’re up and moving as soon as Lily tells us more.”

-

Lily came too around twelve hours later, laid out on a slightly threadbare couch and under a well-worn blanket. She felt her arms, wincing as she grasped new gauze bandages over where the masked attackers had clawed and burned and stabbed at her.

A familiar deep voice and a strong hand on her shoulder interrupted her. “Don’t, it’ll just break the scabs.”

Lily jerked around, instinctively trying to pull out seeds from pockets that didn’t exist, nearly falling over in the process. Harpy reached out to steady her.

“Careful. I don’t want to have to dress them again, Lily of the Valley.”

She righted herself with some difficulty before staring in disbelief at the villain who had apparently treated her wounds. “W-What? You… dressed my wounds?”

Harpy nodded. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I? Never mind, Raven would like to hear about what happened to you last night.”

Lily only became more confused. “Why would he want to know? A-And why would I tell him, anyway?”

Another deep voice answered her from somewhere else in the room. “So that we may uphold the golden rule in your place, Lily London.”

The heroine spun around again, managing to keep her balance as she took in the figure of the Midnight Raven, flanked by Albatross and Swallowtail, each of them familiar adversaries. The Raven was tall, but shorter than Albatross, and even without his mask on, his face still seemed shrouded in shadow.

“Why would you ever do anything for me, Shadowpinner?” She hissed, trying to wriggle out of Harpy’s firm grip on her shoulder.

Swallowtail cocked her head at the heroine. “She isn’t acting like the Lily who I remember.”

Raven nodded. “Indeed. Magpie?”

A shorter man stuck his head from around the doorframe the other villains had exited from, long bangs covering his eyes and slightly glowing circles slowly spinning around his head. “Yeah?”

“What exact injuries did you see on Lily last night?”

“Uhmmmm…” Magpie trailed off as he worked to recall the memory, “three claw-like cuts, two burns, more than ten distinct bruises, several mud smears, and what looked like a needle injection site.”

“A-An injection site?” Lily stammered, stopping her struggle, “Like a vaccine?”

“Or a drug,” Albatross realized.

Raven’s nod confirmed his suspicions. “Magpie, are there any drugs that require injection and can cause confusion in the victim out there on the streets?”

His head ducked back behind the doorframe for a few seconds filled with the clacking of keys before it came back out.

“Indeed there is, boss. A little liquid called Syrup, aka Honey, aka Simple Stuff, aka a lot of other names that reference its viscosity and supposed sweetness. Created by one of the family gangs, the Golden Hornets, whose power has something to do with intensifying the strength of already available drugs. It makes people drowsy, then confused and overly paranoid when injected, but taken orally, it’s basically a painkiller.”

“That would explain Miss Of the Valley’s behavior,” Harpy said, “But not why she got beat up. Who has access to this Syrup?”

More key clacking preceded the response. “A decent number of people. It seems the Golden Hornets are just the producers, and they sell it to other gangs, most notably the Dog Whistles, the Sawsharks, and the Quicksilvers, who then sell them on the street. But… there has been some, er, disagreements over the right to distribute Syrup. Mainly between the Dog Whistles and the Lion Queens.”

“Never heard of the Queens before,” Swallow commented, “are they upstarts?”

“Yes. All the police reports have them as being no larger than 20 members, not a proper gang yet, and wanting to carve a place for themselves.”

“You got any photos?” Raven asked.

Keys clacked again, longer this time, before Magpie’s head returned. “Some. Not very quality, just security footage and some lucky newsie’s action shots.”

He turned to Lily, still frozen in Harpy’s grip. “Could you describe what your attackers looked like? What they were wearing and such?”

“If you stop manhandling me, Cloudjumper.”

Harpy let her go.

Rubbing her shoulder and suspiciously eyeing each of the villains in sight, Lily sighed as she sat up. “There were seven I could see, but only four attacked me. Every one wore a standard kerchief mask, yellowish-brown and shiny. They wore some kinda uniform, but all I can remember is that they had coattails and high boots, and that they were colored dark brown. The four who attacked me were all as bald as Golden Lighting and African-American, but the three who didn’t had lots of hair, dark in color.”

Her hands hovered over her bandages as she continued.

“The one with claws was tall with a furry tail, and their eyes were hazel. The one with earth powers was shorter and had armor of some kind on their arms, with brown eyes. The one who punched me was medium height with a short mantle of sorts, and had really dark eyes. And the one who injected me had blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if they had other powers before I got away. And at least one of the long haired ones had wings, not feathered.”

Magpie had ducked back behind the doorframe in the middle of Lily’s account, his keyboard noises ceaseless for thirty seconds after she finished. Harpy gently patted her shoulder as they waited for the techie.

“Jackpot!” Magpie’s head re-emerged, and his crosshairs were spinning like tops. “I got an ID on everyone you described! Long-Wings is probably Melody Mitchel, a commander among the Lion Queens. And the four toughs are definitely some of her known lackeys; Terryl Tyson is Tail-Claws, Renell Rose is the Earth-Armor, Stefan Smith is Ten-Punches, and Violet Victorson is Blue-Injector. All have been arrested, but not charged, as members of the Queen Lions gang, save Melody. This is the clearest picture I could find.”

He shoved a bulky laptop out on a swivel chair, its screen showing a gory blown-up newspaper photo of ten figures dressed in the coattailed uniforms fighting with ten other figures dressed in the silver and grey trench coats of the Dog Whistles.

One had a full head of frizzy hair and bat-like wings, leaping from a rooftop with shoeless feet baring clawed paws. One had a furry tail and was but a streak as they shoved a hand into the chest of a Dog Whistle, blood flying. One was far shorter than their opponent, guarding their head from a heavy tail’s descent with their oversized rock gauntlets. One had a short mantle over their uniform and was fist fighting a Dog Whistle with curly horns. And one was just a shadow in an alleyway, holding something and standing over a slumped form.

Lily backed away from the photo as the Murder crowded close.

“T-Thats them, for sure. They’re the ones who… got me.” The last two words came after a pause; the heroine was still denying that she had been bested.

Raven nodded. “I assume that you already know where these Lions hunt, Magpie?”

“Yup.”

“Well then.” The villain turned to Lily, who was eyeing him with suspicion again. “What would you do, Lily London, if you were able, and if the Wild and Free were by your side?”

There was no hesitation in her answer. “Get them. Get even with my attackers, and knock the whole of the Lion Queens down a few pegs.”

“Then that is what we shall do.”