#worryin about everything one could think to worry about

[pellelavellan]

Alive just in the process of moving and it’s very overwhelming and time consuming going through all my stuff and purging it

[tokkiwrites]

summary: joel witnesses yet another fight between you and your dad, and frankly, he's tired of the way you've been talking to your old man. so he decides to teach you a lesson.

tags: pwp, dbf!joel, daddy kink, brat taming, spanking, age gap, p in v (unprotected yikes!), degradation, pet names, dirty talk galore!, creampie, head (f receiving), a short fight scene, family problems kind of, mean joel kind of.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! the third and most anticipated one i think!! dbf joel wowza! 3.46k words of just pure smut >:) hope u likey! if u see any errors..no u dont.

“You’ve always gotta push every button, don’t you?” he snapped, his words flaring like sparks off dry wood. the kitchen boomed with both your voices. “Can’t you just do what’s best for once?”

You felt your pulse quicken, anger twisting up inside you like a coiled spring. “What’s best?” you spat back, incredulous. “You mean what you think is best, don’t you? God, Dad, you can’t keep treating me like I’m some clueless kid who needs his hand held!”

His face flushed a deep red, brows pulling tight together. “If you didn’t act like a kid, I wouldn’t have to! You wanna run off and live some big-shot life, fine. But don’t you dare act like I’m the one in the wrong for worryin’ about you.”

Before you could bite out a response, the sound of a chair creaking interrupted you. Joel shifted where he sat in the living room, the leather of the old armchair groaning under his weight. He hadn’t said a word since the argument began, just sat there with his arms crossed and a distant look on his face. Now, though, he glanced over, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before sliding back to your father.

“Maybe…” Joel’s voice was low, that drawl he had stretching the word out slow and easy. “Maybe you both wanna step back a bit. Cool down some.”

Your father exhaled, frustration radiating off him in waves, but he gave a terse nod, like he knew there wasn’t any use arguing anymore. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Probably for the best.”

He threw one last look your way—one full of hurt and something else, something that looked a lot like regret—before turning sharply and stalking out of the kitchen. The front door opened and then slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the house.

You stood there for a moment, the silence thick and oppressive. Then, with a growl of frustration, you spun on your heel and stormed down the hallway to your room. The door banged shut with a sharp thud, and you collapsed onto the edge of your bed, breath coming in quick, angry bursts. You hated that he could still get under your skin like that, twist everything you said, and make you feel small, childish.

Minutes ticked by, your thoughts a jumbled mess of resentment and guilt, when you heard a soft knock on your door. It was barely more than a tap, but it sent a jolt through you. You sat up straighter, glaring at the door.

“Come in,” you said, voice flat.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside, the light from the hallway casting his shadow long across the floor. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s gone,” he said quietly, his accent thickening his words. “Gone off to cool his head, like he always does.”

You just huffed, crossing your arms. “Good. Let him stew all he wants.”

Joel’s gaze flickered, his expression as unreadable as ever. “You know, you sure got a smart mouth on you,” he drawled slowly, each word rolling off his tongue like honeyed molasses. “Always did. But there’s a fine line between standin’ up for yourself and bein’ plain disrespectful.”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Disrespectful?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “He’s the one who—”

“—who’s worried ’bout his little girl.” Joel’s voice was steady but firm, cutting through your protest. He took a step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. “Look, darlin’, I know you’re frustrated. And I know he ain’t the easiest man to deal with. But the way you talked to him back there? That’s somethin’ you oughta be ashamed of.”

Heat flared up your neck, your pulse pounding. “I’m not ashamed. He never listens to me, Joel! No matter what I say, it’s like—”

“Don’t matter if he’s listenin’ or not,” Joel interrupted softly, shaking his head. “There’s a right way to talk to your folks, and that wasn’t it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to hold his gaze. “So, what, you’re on his side now?”

Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his brow furrowed like he was tired of this whole conversation. “Ain’t nobody pickin’ sides here. But I’ll tell you this—you sounded like a brat, plain and simple.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart lurching. “A brat?”

“Yeah,” he drawled, the word drawn out and almost lazy. He took another step closer, his gaze sharpening. “Actin’ like you know it all, like you’re too good to hear what he’s got to say. I get it—you’re grown, got your own ideas. But a little respect don’t hurt none.”

Something about the way he was looking at you—like he could see right through the front you were putting up—sent a strange thrill skittering down your spine. You shifted on the bed, your breath catching as he moved even closer, the distance between you shrinking to just a few feet.

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” you murmured, the words lacking their usual bite.

“Maybe not,” Joel agreed softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I reckon you need someone to remind you how to mind your manners.”

Your heart pounded hard against your ribs, the room suddenly feeling too small, too hot. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Joel’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Means you’re actin’ like a spoiled little girl who needs to be put in her place. Someone’s gotta teach you how to behave.” You swallowed, pulse racing as you held his gaze, the challenge hanging thick. “And you think you’re the one to do that?”

“Maybe,” he murmured, voice rough. “Guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” There was something dangerous in the way he said it—something that sent your heart and head into a frenzy. You knew you were treading into territory you shouldn’t, but the pull was quietly simmering beneath the surface.

It was hard to ignore how close he was now, standing just a few steps away, his broad frame taking up so much space in the room. You tried to look away to push down the tension that was building, but your body betrayed you. You wanted to deny it, the way your pulse quickened when he spoke to you like that. The way his presence—strong and steady—always made you feel something you weren’t sure how to handle.

“I don’t need you telling me how to behave, Joel,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual edge. His lips quirked up, his eyes dark as they held yours. “someone’s gotta.”

Joel was always calm, always collected, but there was something in his voice that you couldn’t shake off, and it only made the knot in your stomach tighten. He took another step toward you, and you could feel the air shift. “You’ve always had a way of pushin’ boundaries, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice tickling you, “but there’s a fine line between speakin’ your mind and actin’ out.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you wanted to push him away or let this go further. You’d always had a thing for him—Joel wasn’t just any man. He was the kind of guy who was steady when everything else wasn’t. Rugged, manly in a way that most men your age couldn’t pull off, and there was something about him that made you feel both safe and completely off-balance at the same time. It was a crush you’d tried to bury, but moments like this made it impossible to forget about it.

Your heart raced in your chest, a wild rhythm that matched the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. Joel had always been a figure of strength, a constant, rugged presence in your life. you’d always admired him from far, always found yourself drawn to him, even when you tried to deny it. That unspoken crush, the way your gaze lingered on him longer than it should, the way your stomach twisted when he called you "darlin’." It had been easy to brush off before to keep it hidden in the safe corners of your mind. But now, those feelings were too close, too raw, spilling over into the silence between.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak. Joel’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and before you could pull yourself together, he stepped closer. Close enough now that you could feel the warmth of him, his presence filling the space around you until it felt like you could barely breathe. his smell was suffocating, making your lungs burn.

“I think I know exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” he said, "You do too. And since your daddy didn't teach it to you, it seems like i need to take the brat out of you." His gaze didn’t waver, his words deliberate, each one sinking into your heart like they were meant to. Your breath got stuck as his words settled over you, thick and heavy like a weight you weren’t quite ready for. The air in the room wrapped around your throat like a chain.

His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. His presence seemed to swallow everything else—the fight with your dad, the anger simmering in your chest, the stubbornness you wore like armor. Now, it all felt fragile, like glass under pressure. And Joel, standing so close, felt like the force about to shatter it.

A shiver rippled down your back, and you felt disarmed. Your body betrayed you—heat rising in your cheeks, your heartbeat so fast and loud you were sure he could hear it too. You wanted to protest, to say something sharp and cutting, to remind him he wasn’t your father and didn’t get to tell you what to do. But the words got stuck.

There was something in the way he looked at you now—unflinching, steady, like he had all the time in the world to watch you break. You’d never felt so vulnerable, so completely exposed. And yet, beneath that vulnerability, a dangerous thrill settled through you, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To feel this way, to let his words, his presence, affect you like this.

But you did let it affect you.

Joel scanned your face as if he was waiting for something—for you to break, to push back, or to surrender. You felt exposed under his gaze

And God, the way he stood there—so solid, so sure of himself. You had never felt smaller, more out of control, and at the same time, more drawn to that feeling of submission. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss, knowing you shouldn’t jump but feeling the undeniable urge to fall anyway. fall into him.

"So here's how this is gonna go. While your dad is out to cool off 'm gonna teach you some manners, and when he comes back, you'll be good and ready to apologize." His calloused fingertips trace the side of your face. "How's that sound, angel baby?" You wanted to reply, to say something. this all felt like a dream, granted, a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

"Stayin' quiet now won't save your pretty ass, girl." Joel tuts, fingers slowly tangling themselves around your locks, pulling at them to make you look up. it made it hard to think straight. " I'm sorry.." And he chuckles at your words. "Now that's somethin'...so you can apologize." he said, almost mocking you. truthfully, him talking to you this way made all of your thoughts fuzzy, so you were basically on autopilot. the ends of your brows tie in a frown, unable to say anything more.

"Get up." Joel taps the side of your shoulder, his stern tone deafening the ring in your ears. "W-why?" You stammered. he rolls his eyes and tugs lightly on the blouse you had on. "Cause I'm 'bout to teach you a lesson. So you learn that being a brat has consequences. I ain't as soft as your dad."

Slowly, you shifted, pushing yourself off the bed, your legs shaky beneath you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood in front of him. As soon as you were upright, Joel’s hand released you, settling himself down on the edge of your bed, the place where you'd just been sitting, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The bed dipped under his weight, his broad shoulders taking up more space than they should, and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on him for a second longer than you intended.

"Bend over." You swallowed hard, eyes widening. "Excuse me?" You could believe what he just saidㅡ" Surely you were dreaming. It's like he crawled into the deepest space of your brain and digged in there to find the exact ways to make you fold. "C'mon, i ain't got all day. And your dad is probably coming back soon. So bend over." Joel said whilst patting his thick thighs, signaling you to settle on them. Every part of you was attuned to him—his voice, his movements, the way he looked at you - so you obey.

with shaky movements, you bend over his legs, your behind perked up and back arched. you feel his palm on the small of your back, spreading warmth through your body, before he fully moves it down to pull on the hem of your pants. "Can I take these off, sweetheart?" Your heart trembles, eyes closing as you mutter a soft 'yes'. Joel drags your pants down to your folded knees, along with your underwear, the sudden cold feeling enveloping your skin. "Look so pretty like this, baby." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your spine all the way to your lower back. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

with no warning, he pulls his hand back and settles in with a hard smack on your sizzling skin. the harsh hit priks at your skin as it reddens, and you can't help but let out a soft yelp. "Count for daddy." and it takes you off guard, but you comply.

"o-one." joel hum, rubbing that spot before delivering another slap. "Two -" three slaps, then four, then five more, and you turn into a teary, weeping mess. how beautifully you splayed yourself onto the man's lap, each jolt of your body inviting him further in. for him, it was over in seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity before you heard his voice again.

"Up. And bend over." in no time, you're bent over the edge of the bed, ass up and face flush with the mattress. the cold air hits your exposed cunt and your skin still hurts where he spanked you. He grips your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh, and you can feel his hardon resting between your legs. "This pussy is crying for me, huh?" he's cocky with the way he says it, two of his fingers gathering up the glistening liquid from your puffy lips, then bringing them to your mouth. "Be a doll." he's playing with you, but you? you do as you're told because he has you so drunk on him, in a way you've never felt before. you lick around his digits, tasting yourself and he delivers a proud slap to one of your asscheeks. "You pretty brat." back behind you, he crouches on one knee before drawing a long strip from your sensitive clit to your entrance with his tongue, the same two fingers you had licked, now slipping inside of you.

your back arches as a wave of pleasure breaks over your body like water on a shore. his licks are now concentrated on your bud, fingers quickening their pace as Joel hums at your sweet taste. You moan and writhe, that familiar warm feeling building up inside of you again. but as soon as you were there, he stopped, pulling back to see the shaky, wet mess you were. "P-lease, daddyㅡ"

he tuts, slapping your plush thighs. "You take what I give you. don't get greedy. You're lucky if I'm gonna let you come at all right now. this is supposed to be a lesson." the pain of that sick pleasure envelopes you and you sit with your cunt exposed as you hear Joel fumble the pockets of the pants he had already taken off. 'condoms' he mumbled, as if he knew what you were thinking.

"I'm clean.." You manage a whisper. "And on birth control." he sighs in relief. "Good." You can feel he is less tense now, his presence still behind you. with no warning, he flips you over, back on the bed and ass on the edge of it, that had your legs settle around his hips with ease. "Spread 'em." So you do. you spread your legs as much as you can, giving him a full view. Joel smiles, thumb back to rubbing circles onto your clit. "You're so beautiful." it was so sincere, so sweet you could almost taste it.

his gentle gaze soon got replaced by the hungry one he had all this night whilst staring you down. Finally, he aligns the tip of his shaft with your entrance and slowly pushes the tip in. Your breath got stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thornsㅡ Every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the mattress under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- theere we go.." Joel praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. He moves gently, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

you wrap your legs around him loosely but he takes you by your ankles and almost folds them over your stomach, providing him a better position to pound straight into you, hitting that sweet spot on and on. his hips dive down, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it. Now you gotta apologize for being a little brat." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Joel.

"C'mon baby, say it, say what i wanna hearㅡ fuck." he hammered deep into you, the trinkets from your bedside table clinking soft melodies, as Joel held you by your hips. "I'm s-orry, daddy! I'm so sorryㅡ" you sob, trying your best to be coherent. "That's it, good girl, good fucking girl."

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? fill you up with my babies? maybe then youll learn to behaveㅡ shit!" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, daddy, I'm sorryㅡ"

"Dirty fuckin' girl. Go ahead, 'f daddy." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much daddy!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. he pounds into you as you come down from your high, your body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slap your thigh, strong grips now onto your breasts as he comes ropes inside of you, then he pulls his length out of your pulsing walls, some come landing on your stomach.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulls out and watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm trickles of come dripping from your stomach to your chest due to your position. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths, as he scoots you better on the bed. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

"I'm sorry for being a brat.."

" 's fine, baby. if you're too good i won't have any reason to punish you anymore. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

you wouldn't, indeed.

[livingformintyoongi]

can we have a drabble or oneshot where the oc says 'i can't pay for anything* this time' or offers to split the budget 50/50 and jungkook literally😒😤😡🤬 gets mad like I'm your man I'm responsible for you etc🤭hehehhe make me a delululu, I don't have work tomorrow♥️😂

Princess Treatment

a/n: I'M OFFICIALLY BACK (this is the first order I've uploaded in months lol). First of all, I'm sorry to be back after so long, I've been very busy, but I'm finally a free person and I'm at your complete disposal!

Warnings: I read the request and immediately thought of Jungkook from BOTN so I couldn't help myself and ended up using his story as the basis for the drabble, so yes, this is a little drabble of Jungkook vocalist and Y/N's relationship!, reader is 2 years older than Jk, Jungkook is totally and completely in love with Y/N and he doesn't mind hiding it, he's been in love for a long time and is willing to give anything to keep his princess happy because he knows how much she's worth and deserves to be loved <3.

WC: 760

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @irishhbamb

Dividers: @omi-resources

"What did you say?" Jungkook murmured, stopping his fork halfway to his mouth. You were sure he'd heard what you said, but judging by the frown on his face, he didn’t seem to like the idea much.

“No... I don’t think I can pay the rent this month, at least not on my own,” you bit your bottom lip, feeling your hands begin to sweat with the uncertainty. “Do you think we could split it?” you sighed, hiding your face behind your hands. You felt embarrassed, maybe even a bit ridiculous. You were older than him, you’d been working longer than he had—how could you ask him for this? It felt really humiliating.

For a moment, you thought he’d react the same way your ex had when you asked him for the same thing a few years ago. You could almost hear the excuses and how asking for a 50/50 split was stupid, especially since he barely spent any time at home that month.

But you’d forgotten something important. This wasn’t your ex. This was the damn Jeon Jungkook, the guy who’d waited almost a decade to be with you, the one who fought with your ex when he found out what he’d done, the same one who sacrificed his reputation and the band’s just to rush to the hospital when you’d had a small accident.

“No, forget it, how could I let you pay the rent on your own?” he quickly shook his head, pushing his plate aside to look at you like you’d just said the dumbest thing he’d ever heard, “I’ll cover all the expenses, don’t worry about it.”

You froze for a few seconds, slightly opening your mouth in surprise. Had you heard that right? Did he want to pay it all? Everything?

You shook your head, trying to regain your composure before asking again, “What...? Sorry, I think I heard wrong. You want to pay it all? The whole rent?”

“And the bills too,” he said matter-of-factly, pouring himself more soju. He glanced up for a second, then gave you that signature smile of his that melted your heart every time you saw it. “Noona, I’ve been paying for this place since the beginning, and it was me who asked you to live here with me in the first place. How could I let you pay the rent? And by yourself?” He shook his head, letting out a laugh. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s not... I…” you tried to say something, anything, ask him why he was doing this, but for some reason, it was hard for you to say anything. Probably because you’d never had a boyfriend so understanding.

“Besides... it would be unfair to split the rent 50/50 when our salaries are different. I’ve seen how much you’ve worked to get where you are, and I’ve seen how they pay you pennies for the amazing work you do,” he took your hand across the table, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against them. “I want you to have that money for yourself, to spend on you, without worrying about how much you need to live in our home.”

“Jungkook…” you murmured, feeling your cheeks begin to heat up. What were you supposed to do in situations like this? Laugh? Cry? Run away? The last option seemed good.

“As long as I have a job, I’ll give you absolutely everything you want, Y/N, because that’s what you deserve,” he smiled softly, his lips still gently pressed against your knuckles, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine from the contact.

“Ugh, don’t look at me like that,” you said quietly, lowering your head and covering your eyes with your hand. You felt way too embarrassed, way too shy.

“Like what?” he laughed, tilting his head, trying to make eye contact with you. A triumphant smile spread across his face when he succeeded.

“I don’t know... like you love me too much,” you murmured, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. You knew he was looking at you, and you knew he liked seeing you like this. For some reason, you didn’t feel as embarrassed with him, you felt... happier.

“Because I do, Noona,” he moved his free hand to your cheek, barely grazing it with the tips of his fingers. It felt warm and soft and so... right. “I’ve loved you for years.”

And you knew he meant it, because, damn, how could that bright look in his eyes full of hope be fake?

Masterlist.

[wolvietxt]

heyy, congrats on 1000!! 🎉

i’d like daryl with the prompt below:

“it’s the middle of a heated argument, voices raised, hands gesturing wildly. suddenly, they stop mid-sentence, chest heaving. “you’re all i ever think about,” they blurt out, the anger draining from their face as if they only just realized it themselves.”

(from the “unexpected confessions” list)

thanks so much!🤍

DARYL was sitting in the corner of the cabin, sharpening his knife, while you paced the floor, words spilling out in a rush of frustration. it started over something stupid. it always did. 

"you can't just keep shutting me out, daryl," you said, throwing your hands up. "every time i try to help, you act like i'm some kind of burden!"  

"ain't about you helpin'," he shot back, his voice rough, eyes glued to the blade in his hands. "it's about you gettin' hurt 'cause you don't think things through."  

"oh, so now i don't think things through? that's rich, coming from the guy who runs off without a word and comes back covered in blood half the time!"  

his eyes snapped up at that, sharp and blue like storm clouds ready to break. "you think i don't know what i'm doin' out there? you think i ain't got it handled?"  

"that's not what i meant!" your voice rose, and before you could stop yourself, you were right in front of him, arms crossed and glare locked on his face. "but you can't handle everything alone, daryl! no one can!"  

"been doin' fine so far," he muttered, standing abruptly and towering over you, his posture tense. "you just don't get it. this ain't about bein' fine. it's about survivin'."  

"surviving isn’t the same as living!"  

he let out a sharp exhale, his hands clenching at his sides. "ain't got the luxury to live, not with how things are. you think this is some kinda fairytale? we got walkers everywhere, people worse than 'em, and all you do is - "  

"what? all i do is what, daryl?" you challenged, stepping closer. "care about you? worry about you? because that's all i’m trying to do!"  

"then stop worryin'! i ain't your problem to fix!" his voice thundered, louder than you'd ever heard it, cutting through the tension like a blade.  

you stared at him, chest heaving, hands gesturing wildly as the words tumbled out. "you’re impossible, you know that? you push me away, but you don't want me to go. you want me close, but you don't let me in. what the hell do you want from me, daryl?"  

he opened his mouth to retort, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he stood there, his breathing ragged, shoulders rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. and then, as if it had struck him like lightning, his expression softened, anger draining from his face.  

“you’re all i ever think about,” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. his gaze locked on yours, raw and unguarded, like he was seeing you for the first time - or maybe realizing something he’d been trying to deny for far too long.  

your breath caught, the silence between you suddenly deafening.  

“what?” you whispered, barely audible, as if saying it louder would break whatever spell had just been cast.  

his hands twitched at his sides, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “i said… i think ‘bout you. all the damn time.” he looked away, his jaw tightening, but not before you caught the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “don’t know how to stop.”  

you blinked, trying to process his words, the heat of the argument still lingering in the air but quickly fading under the weight of his confession. “daryl…”  

he cut you off, shaking his head like he couldn’t bear to hear whatever you were about to say. “just forget it, alright? shouldn’t’ve said nothin’.”  

but you weren’t about to let him retreat now, not after everything he’d just let slip. “no,” you said firmly, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to drop something like that and walk away.”  

he scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “ain’t walkin’ away. just don’t wanna make this harder than it already is.”  

“harder?” you asked, your voice softening. “what’s so hard about admitting you care about someone?”  

his gaze snapped back to yours, and for a moment, he looked almost angry again, but it wasn’t the same. it was frustration, confusion, and something else - something gentler.  

“’cause if somethin’ happens to you, i wouldn’t… i couldn’t…” he trailed off, his voice breaking, and suddenly, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. “damn it, i don’t know how to do this.”  

your heart clenched at the sight of him, this man who was always so strong, so sure of himself, now looking utterly lost. “you don’t have to know how,” you said softly, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “we can figure it out together.”  

he stared at your hand like it was something foreign, something he didn’t quite know how to handle, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.  

“don’t wanna mess this up,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.  

“you won’t,” you assured him, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “but you have to let me in, daryl. you can’t keep shutting me out.”  

he nodded, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time since the argument started, you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “alright,” he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. “alright.”  

a small smile tugged at your lips, and without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  

he huffed a quiet laugh, the sound so rare it made your chest ache. “guess not.”  

and then, before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned down and kissed you. it was tentative at first, almost unsure, but when you kissed him back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer like he never wanted to let go.  

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, but the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks - months, even - was gone, replaced by something warmer, something infinitely more comforting.  

“you’re all i ever think about, too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

he smiled, just a little, and for the first time, you saw the man behind all the walls, the one who cared so deeply he didn’t know how to show it. “guess we’re both screwed then,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.  

you laughed softly, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i guess we are.” 

ᰔ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz

@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi, @omen-keke, @hhiggs, @iheartpeterparker3000

@withasideofmeg, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[sofisweb]

₊　　　˙　　⠀⠀✦⠀　　　˙　　₊　

Tender Chaos

summary: you see Daryl with the newborn baby and think it’s cute.

Fluff, light kissing, character death mentioned, ooc daryl?𓈒⠀　˙　　₊　reader x Daryl

setting: early prison era ˙　　₊　 uses show dialogue

Rick wasn’t coping well, he was still inside doing- who knows what, a walker massacre? The cries of the baby echoed loudly, hell- you were worried sick about her- and Maggie and Daryl too. They’d had gone out on a supply run as the baby needed food..you knew they could handle themselves but with everything that had just happened- the chances are never zero.

You were pacing around the area, mind racing with the weight of your unbearable thoughts and ‘what if’s. It’d gotten dark and you thought they should’ve been back by now- your thoughts were brushed away as you heard the announcements by Glenn and a thankful sigh escaped your lips as you heard that they were back.

Your gaze shifted to Daryl as he entered beside Maggie, you stood in your tracks, arms wrapped around your torso as if to shield yourself. He caught your eyes and gave a short nod, as if to say, We’re good. Stop worryin’.

The worrisome look on your face washed away with a more relieved one before you headed over to Maggie to see what she had brought back., Daryl was checked off the list for being alright, Maggie too and Rick was.. but you were still worried about the baby. You flinched at her loud cries in a instant as you moved away from Maggie to look over at the source of the noise.

You were about to take the baby from Carl, try to soothe her until Daryl decided it earlier. Hm.

You watched carefully as Daryl picked her up, you stopped in your steps and instead leaned against the wall, surprised for a moment before a soft smile tugged at your lips. It was such a contrast—the hardened hunter holding this fragile little life with such care. Who knew Daryl could be like this?

“Shh, shh, come on.” Daryl’s words were gentle as he rocked her gently in his arms.

As the baby quietened down, a warm wave of comfort washed over you as you uncrossed your arms. Your eyes met Daryl’s for a moment as you gave him a small smile, him returning you one. You stepped closer as you walked to stand beside Carl.

“She got a name yet?” Daryl murmured out as he looked down at her before up at Carl and you. “No,” You hummed out with a shake of your head in response, your voice quiet to match the atmosphere.

“But I was thinking.. maybe Sofia..” Carl spoke up, naming the fallen women of the group as a small frown appeared on your lips before a quiet sigh escaped them.

You zoned out for a moment before Daryl’s words invaded your thoughts,

“Little ass-kicker.”

“Right? That's a good name, right?” He murmured quietly as he looked up at you and that small smile appeared on your face again. His gaze moved back down.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning against the wall as you watched him. It was a rare moment of tenderness from Daryl, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

–

You had found Daryl once more, sitting off to the side, isolating himself from the group- you would’ve thought he’d find another spot based on the many times you’ve found him, but no.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, taking a few steps closer before lowering yourself to sit beside him on the cold concrete floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, leaning slightly to the side to look at him.

Daryl glanced up from where he sat, his back leaning against the wall, his usual guarded expression in place. When he saw you approach, his eyes softened slightly, though he didn’t say anything right away.

“Everything alright?”

“Always.” He huffed out which caused you to stay silent for a moment as your eyes looked up to the sky above, the empty night sky filling your eyes.

“That was cute, y’know.” You muttered out with a small smile, looking over at him as you nudged him softly with your elbow. “Shudup.”

You chuckled at his gruff response, the corners of your lips tugging upward. "What? It was," you teased playfully as you leaned closer to him. "Didn’t know you had it in you, Dar’. Ya’ full of surprises."

"Don’ start gettin’ sappy' on me." “I’m not you dummy, just stating the truth.”

“Yeah, yea–” His complaints were cut short as you pressed a small kiss on his cheek. “Wha’ was that for..” He grumbled out in response, tensing for a moment as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“For before.” Which caused him to huff in response, “I love you, y’know–” Your words were cut short by his protests, causing you to laugh softly at his words. “Oh shut it.” He scoffed at your words, trying to ignore the creeping blush up his neck.

“Love ya’ too..” He grumbled out in response, an arm wrapping around your shoulder as he pulled you closer and you happily snuggled up against him in return.

You cupped his cheek gently, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you as he pulled you closer.

“Imagine if we had k–” “Shut up..”

[theplottdump]

Kate: Got anything yet? Vera: It's faint but I'm picking up voices inside!

Poppy: Uh, Okay. Next question. Mom… 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?

Hinoki: That, my darling, is the reason I brought you here. (🎵)

Hinoki: Like I told you before, in every universe, every reality - there was always one constant. One child that got left behind.

Hinoki: Poppy, this is your little sister. Her name is Vera. Poppy: 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰…

Hinoki: After I gave birth, your father offered me an ultimatum. I did everything I could to make sure she was safe- cared for. I couldn't lose you, destroy the life we had made for all of you.

Poppy: So you cheated on dad - and made the baby disappear. Hinoki: Until two days ago.

Hinoki: My perfect mistake. My Vera. Come running back to me.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜'𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘅 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.

Kate: You're running off too!? Diego: Kate, someone's gotta go after her- she'll throw herself halfway to Sunday ridin' like that. Kate: We don't even know why she took off!

Kate: So you're both just going to leave me here to do everything? She cracked the drone controls- It's stuck in a bush and I can't even get visuals! Diego: I think you need to start worryin' less about the job, and more about your friend. Kate: I'm WORRYING about the success of my TEAM.

Diego: Then maybe you should consider takin' your own advice, and go jump in the lake.

Diego: Just make sure you get her back safe for me!

Kate: You think I won't !? Diego: I was talking to the horses!

Kate: 𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

[bbuzz28]

Tate's First Night at the Shack

Transferring some of my Notes App Fiddlestan fics over to Tumblr. Have the most recent as I clean some of the others up a little. Enjoy some domestic af messy men :)

“Do ya really think he’s gonna be alright up in the attic?” Fiddleford asked as he climbed into bed next to Stan. It was easily the 20th if not the 200th time he had asked the same question in the time that they learned Emma- May had decided Tate would be allowed to come spend part of his school break with his father for the first time since the divorce. Stan sighed as he lightly tossed his glasses off and onto the side table. “The only reason he wouldn’t is if he heard ya worryin’ yourself to death from down here Fidds. If we had the resources, I think you’d have reinforced the room with steel- do us all a favor n’ try n’ relax for Moses’ sake.”

          Fiddleford continued to stare at the ceiling as if he could see through it. “We both know I’m capable of many a thing, but ya should know by now that ain’t one of ’em. Askin’ me not t’ worry is like-”

“Askin’ a fish to stop swimmin’- don’t I know it cowboy.” Stan wiped his hand down his face, exhausted both physically and mentally. He had hoped the boy’s arrival would settle Fiddleford’s anxiety that had been building in anticipation of his arrival. From what he could see, it was doing the opposite and he didn’t know how to fix it. “Call me stupid if ya want, but gettin’ yourself all worked up ain’t helping either of ya feel better.”

That remark finally helped drag Fiddleford’s gaze from the ceiling, his eyes meeting Stan’s. “ First, I dunno how many times I need t’ say it but you’re not stupid Stanley. Secondly…I s’pose you’re right. I’ve done just about everything I can think of t’ make him comfortable. I even asked him if he wanted me to stay with him, since it’s his first night ‘n he’s in my room n’ all.” Fiddleford nervously wrapped his hand with a bit of their sheet as he continued. “My little Tater, he said I needn’t baby him-that he hasn’t needed a nightlight for almost a year now. If I was worth my salt as a father, I should have known that, Stanley. ”

Stan raised an eyebrow, refusing to feed into his partner’s spiral “your room? It ain’t been your room for a while Fidds, why’d ya tell him that?” Fiddleford broke eye contact, focusing on the sheet wrapped tightly in his fist “well I…I didn’t wanna confuse him none. N’ it’s not entirely untrue. It used to be where I was until we...until I moved down…I just. I don’t think he needs t’ know everythin’ that goes on here between us. I mean, as far as he knows I’m still…well, I am still your research assistant.”

Stan felt half a dozen emotions at once; he finally landed on trying to remain as neutral as possible even though every internal voice was telling him to be angry or resentful or any of the other emotions he would have historically stewed in. “Yeah well, I guess a roadside tourist trap’s co-owner really don’t have the same ring as ‘mechanical engineer’.” Fiddleford looked at him with a face full of guilt, his eyes holding an apology and Stan just waved him off. He knew what they were doing with the Shack in order to save his brother was a major step down from Fiddleford’s previous career at best. And at worst? The voices were right and he would always be something to be ashamed of. Putting on his brother’s name for the world wasn’t going to change that where it mattered.

He reached over and ran a hand up through the Fiddleford’s hair, eventually settling at the back of his neck, his thumb tracing his hairline. “I understand not tellin’ him everythin’ Fidds; we both know what’s in the basement. But he’s yours-which means he’s probably a whole hell of a lot smarter than any kid ought to be. For once, I really don’t think that lyin’ is the best route to take. I mean, how’d he react to us uhh…“bunking” together while he’s here?”

Fiddleford furrowed his brow as he leaned into Stan’s touch “well, I just said that there weren’t enough beds and that both of our backs are too old t’ be sleepin’ on the couch every night. Both of which is true- but I couldn’t read his reaction all that well. He’s just…grown up so much in such a short amount of time. Maybe you were right to be wary of him comin’.” Fiddleford wrapped his hands around Stan’s and closed his eyes-tears whispering at the corners. “I love him so much, but after everything…what if I don’t know how t’ do this anymo-“

“Papa?” A small voice called from the doorway

The young boy stood in their bedroom doorway, fish shaped stuffed animal hanging by his side and his green pajamas wrinkled as if he’d been tossing and turning for the last hour he’d been meant to be sleeping. Both men sat up in bed, Stan immediately making space as Fiddleford beckoned his son forward. “What’s the matter bug? Didja have a bad dream?” Tate shuffled forward until he was stood by Fiddleford’s side of the bed “I want to sleep in here. I’m pretty sure there’s a monster in your closet.” Stan could swear he almost felt Fiddleford’s blood pressure skyrocket at his son’s words; his knowledge of what lay in the forest surrounding the shack clearly running rampant through his head. Before he could say anything, Stan offered the boy his hand across the bed. “Smart thinkin’ kid, we’re stronger in numbers. Let’s agree t’ go check for monsters in the mornin’, okay? Gotta say though, they’d be nuts to hide in one of my closets when they know I’d rather have them as an attraction in the Mystery Shack.”

Tate stared at the outstretched hand for a few seconds before he took it and with some help from his father hoisted himself up in between them, quickly getting beneath the covers and hugging his fish to his chest. “Monsters can’t be seen in the daylight” the quiet boy said as he snuggled in close to his father, keeping his one visible eye trained to Stan’s face. Stan made sure he was giving the boy enough space as he positioned himself on his elbow, throwing a look at Fiddleford before he grinned. “ Again, you’re absolutely right squirt. However, your pop here has special monster specs he cooked up so that we can see them during the day- isn’t that right Fidds?”

Tate angled his face up towards his father, who while still pale at the thought of a monster being anywhere near his son’s room nodded in agreement. “Your uhh…Uncle Stan is right Tater. We will just go check everything out in the mornin’ ” His father’s confirmation seemed to persuade the boy to relax a little, but Stan could tell he was still a little nervous. “I gotta tell ya, wish I had your pop’s big brains back when I had to face my own monster back in Jersey around your age. I know he would have come in mighty handy.”

Tate’s eye widened “ya mean you’ve seen real monsters? Not just all your fake ones that are downstairs?” Stan flicked his eyes towards Fiddleford quickly before he raised his eyebrow down towards Tate. “And who said all my attractions were a sham, huh?” “Momma.” Tate replied very matter of factly. “She said that you and Papa both lost whatever sense ya ever had when ya started foolin’ people for money with your carnie bullspit.” Stan did his best to choke back his laugh as Fiddleford turned a deep shade of red. “Tater! It’s impolite to repeat wh-” Stan interrupted, a grin clear across his face. “No-no, it’s fine Fidds. He has a very smart mother and enough sense to listen to her. We’ll maybe just have to work on his delivery movin’ forward.” Stan winked at Tate and Fiddleford mumbled something that sounded like a prayer asking for strength.

“Now, as for everything being fake…well that’s just not the word I’d use. I’d like t’ say they’re…enhanced. The general public ain’t smart enough to see through the smoke and mirrors like you are squirt. That’s why some of my attraction’s downstairs are not always the genuine artifact. I don’t have to put the real thing on display to get the right reaction from them.”

Tate squinted his eye at Stan, giving him a look far too old for his years- a look he had seen on his father’s face more than once. “Ya said ya have seen real monsters?” Fiddleford made a noise in the back of his throat. “I dunno that monster talk isn’t the best idea before bedtime boys.” Tate scowled and Stan chuckled. “Let’s make a deal kid-I tell you a story n’ the minute ya start t’ get even a little bit scared, your father can kick me out of here n’ I’ll go sleep in the attic with whatever might be in that closet.” Tate’s eye widened as he stuck a small hand out from under the covers “deal!” Fiddleford sighed and shook his head, but Stan noticed the smile that fell across his face.

Stan recounted his (and Ford’s) experience with the Jersey Devil- only changing a few small details (he really wasn’t trying to give the kid nightmares after all.) By the time he was done, Tate had spread out in between both men, fast asleep with his short arms resting on both of their chests. “I don’t know that we’ll be getting him back to his own bed after this. He’s going to want a story every night now” Fiddleford whispered, pulling the blanket higher over his son as he tucked his fish next to him. Stan chuckled, rearranging himself so that he could reach Fiddleford and gently brushed his fingers through his hair “ah well, whatever gets him to sleep. Plus, ya look a lot more relaxed with him in here.”

He turned and made to slip out of the bed when Fiddleford’s arm caught his elbow. “N’ where d’ya think you’re going?” Stan smiled, closing his hand around the one on his arm. “Like I said, you look better already. I can go bunk in the attic, give you both some space.” Fiddleford shook his head “I always sleep better when you’re here. Now that I got both m’ boys within arms-reach, I reckon it’ll be the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.” That was enough reason for Stan and he rearranged himself in the bed, throwing a loose arm across both McGucket boys. Fiddleford drew Stan’s hand up to his mouth and tenderly kissed the back of it. Stan suddenly couldn’t remember ever wanting to leave somewhere less.

—————————————————————

Early the next morning Fiddleford woke up to the smell of coffee and one less person in the bed. The memories from the night before came flooding back and he couldn’t help but smile. He had been so worried about how Tate would react to Stan and vice versa but he should have known better. Stanley Pines was always full of surprises.

He tucked the blankets back around a still sleeping Tate and made his way to the kitchen. From the entryway of the sunlit kitchen he watched as Stan stood at the sink, nursing a cup of coffee as tears silently streamed down his face. Upon seeing Fiddleford, he quickly tried to wipe them away as he walked towards him. Stan managed to mumble something about there being coffee before Fiddleford’s hands found their way to his face, cradling it to make him look him in the eyes. “What in the world is wrong Stanley?” Stan shook his head and Fiddleford scoffed “oh no Mr. Mystery, not today. You go on n’ tell me what has ya up at the crack of dawn cryin’ this very instant.”

Stan stayed silent for a moment before he melted; wrapping his arms around Fiddleford’s waist and drawing the other man close. Stan touched his forehead to Fiddleford’s for a moment and took a deep breath. He leaned back and looked at Fiddleford with one of the most solemn expressions he had ever seen on his face. “When I woke up this mornin’, everythin’ was just…real. It felt right, wakin’ up next to you two. Perfect, even.” Fiddleford softly chuckled “perfect mean somethin’ different in Jersey n’ this is the first you’re tellin’ me?”

He knew Stan was being serious when his joke didn’t get any reaction, so he waited for him to continue, running his hands down to rest on his shoulders. “This past year with you…not everything has exactly been roses, t’ put it mildly. One thing I know though is that I wouldn’t be half as held together as I am if ya weren’t here. You just make everythin’ so much more worthwhile. N’ now with Tate being here…everythin’ just feels complete. I know he’s not mine or anythin’, but I’ve… always wanted this kind of life. Maybe the details are a little different that I imagined, but it’s true. N’ now that it’s here it…terrifies me.” Fiddleford held his breath as Stan drew him even closer. “That’s why I was worried about the kid comin’ up here. I know how I feel about you, n’ how’d I feel about him because he’s yours. I…I ruin everything I touch Fidds. My life, then Ford’s and now yours might be next. I just don’t know what I’ll do when I end up ruinin’ this too.”

“Stanley, will ya look at me?” Fiddleford asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Eventually brown eyes met blue, both rimmed with tears. “Do ya have any intentions on hurtin’ me or my son?” Stanley shook his head furrowing his brows as he said “but I never set out to ruin things. Just like with Ford I-” Fiddleford put his hand over Stan’s mouth, stopping his next sentence. “ It’s my turn now. Ya said just now that ya didn’t know where you’d be without me-I need ya to know I feel the exact same way. After the incident…I was so lost. I was using that damn gun at every negative thought that I came across. So much so that I felt myself losing my place in reality; my sanity even- but you’ve been my rock.” Fiddleford leaned forward and touched his forehead to Stanley’s, close enough to feel his breath. “You, Stanley Pines, helped me find myself again. I know without you, Emma-May wouldn’t have felt secure in sending Tate to stay here-as well she shouldn’t. but you’re the reason I even have a life Stanley Pines, n’ I’m not going anywhere come hell or high water. Have I made myself clear?”

Stan didn’t say anything- he couldn’t. He was never good with words in any meaningful way, and how could he tell the man who meant the world to him that he understood something so crazy. For some reason Fiddleford chose him, and Stan would do everything he could to make sure he kept choosing him. He poured every single emotion he felt for Fiddleford into a kiss that was eagerly reciprocated. They were a mess, but together they were truly a mess united.

The sound of little feet thudding down the hallway towards the kitchen gave them just enough time to compose themselves as Tate scampered into the kitchen. “I’m hungry” he said solemnly, as if he was telling the men terrible news. “Hi hungry, I’m Stan” Stanley replied as Fiddleford gathered his son up into his arms. “What do ya boys say to goin’ out to breakfast?” he asked, a knowing smile on his face. Tate cracked the first smile they’d seen since he got there while Stan scratched the back of his head. “I was gonna make some Stancakes, but Greasy’s does sound like a good idea.” The trio was in agreement as they made their way to dress for the day, all three feeling a little bit lighter than the night before.

[annaphoenix1994]

Horseshoe Overlook - A Quiet Time

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Minnie's eyes shot open from an evening nap to the sound of hoofbeats, seeing that Hosea had returned to camp successfully. If she had remembered right, Arthur left with him. A ping of worry entered her chest as she was starting to grow fond of Arthur as he seemed to show care towards her, which was something she had never experienced unless it was from her father. She watched as Hosea hitched his horse before making brief eye contact with her. She quickly looked to her lap, hearing his boots crunch the grass as he got closer to her.

"How are you holding up, Miss?" Hosea asked, pulling up a chair from the nearby table before asking her.

She shrugged, "Never better, I guess." She chuckled, her hazel eyes meeting his old grey orbs.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way. Dutch has his own way of runnin' things," Hosea sighed. "It's not that he doesn't trust you, it's just that, well, we've had a bad run-in and he can't seem to trust anybody."

"You mean, a bad run-in with the law?" She replied.

"How'd you know?"

She smirked, "I read the papers, mainly just to see if the law is on my tail lookin' for my whereabouts. I knew who Dutch was the minute I laid eyes on him. He's no stranger," She explained. "Colm O'Driscoll ran his mouth about him a lot. The man sounds so jealous to me and it's quite funny. A grown-ass man worryin' so much about how another grown-ass man is livin' his life."

Hosea and Minnie shared a chuckle, "I do believe you're right, Miss?" He questioned, wanting her to introduce herself.

"Barlow, Minnie Barlow." She nodded.

"I've heard a lot about you, Miss Barlow."

"You, along with a whole heap of people," She replied. "It's no surprise, really. I guess I brought all of this on myself. I understand why Dutch is tyin' me up like this." She admitted.

"Just like Arthur was tellin' you, as long as you cooperate, you and Dutch will have no problems. He's just been worried about how everything has been going and doesn't want to risk anybody giving away his whereabouts. You see, we're a big family instead of a band of outlaws you may think we are. He's doin' everything in his power to protect his family."

She nodded, "I know. It doesn't help much that I used to work for the Pinkertons either. Believe me, my supervisor tried to have me killed because I knew too much," She admitted. "Come to think I thought I was doin' honest work makin' honest money. Shit, bein' an outlaw robbin' and theivin' is more honest than what those snakes do."

"I understand and believe you. I'm sure Dutch does, too, but we just have to see how things fold out, okay? We just got this spot and don't want to risk havin' to move again." He explained.

Minnie nodded, "I understand. Say, you think I could catch a break and go get a bath or somethin'? I haven't been able to take care of myself for days and I feel dreadful." She said as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

They shared a brief stare at each other as Hosea tried to search for words before their gaze was disturbed by the sound of faint hoofbeats in the distance - Arthur.

"Maybe Arthur can take you?" Hosea suggested, his mind coying at the thought of again playing matchmaker. However, he had a good feeling about this one.

"I can take who where?" Arthur asked as he was now walking towards them. She bit her lip slightly as she let herself become attracted towards him, watching how he walked as he rested his hands on his gunbelt. I need to stop... She taunted herself. She had never had any thoughts like this before, but she assumed it was where it was natural for her, as a woman, to be attracted to a man who knew he was attractive. Or so she thought...

He had still been dressed in black as he and Hosea had gone hunting and she could tell he had put pomade in his hair as it was also kept swept back by his hat. But, God, he wasn't helping the situation.

"Miss Barlow here would like to go into town to... Take care of some things," Hosea replied. "Perhaps you could take her into town as I know you will keep an eye on her." He looked up at him with a mischievous look in his eyes, Arthur knowing that he was trying his damn best to hook him up with her, to which he would agree. You old man, she won't want me! He thought to himself as he kept a stern eye on him as he kept his jaw clenched.

"Sure." Arthur sighed.

"Great!" Hosea smiled before looking back at Minnie, "Do you want to take a wagon or ride your horse?"

"I'd like to ride my horse," She nodded. "I'm willin' to bet he's a little cold-backed!"

"Maybe so," Hosea chuckled before turning to Arthur, "I best be gettin' on. I'll leave ya to it!" He smiled as he pat Arthur on the shoulder before strutting away to his tent to read a book while also eavesdropping on his son's decisions. I'm gettin' too good at this, Hosea complimented himself as he looked over at the photo he carried of him and his dear wife, Bessy. "You see, darlin'? I can still make a stubborn mule see the beauty in love!" He whispered, the image of his wife bringing back the spark he once had the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

Arthur cleared his throat, not daring to look Minnie in the eyes, "Want me to, erm, saddle your horse for you?"

"Sure, if he'll hold still. He gets antsy if he's been tethered for a while," She warned. "Besides, I can't quite do it myself." She sighed.

"I know... Well, I'll be back shortly." He assured her as he turned to walk away, only to be stopped by Dutch calling him to his tent for a brief discussion.

"Dutch," Arthur nodded. "Miss O'Shea," He greeted the firey-red-headed Irishwoman whom Dutch took a fond fancy to.

Dutch stood to his feet after lighting his cigar, "Feels like we are finally gettin' back on our feet! How's our guest?"

"Good as gold, I guess..." Arthur sighed with a frown.

"Good. Maybe she'll start talkin' once she gets to feelin' better."

"Maybe so. Hosea asked me to take her into town so she can clean herself up a bit."

"Did he now? And why do you think we should do that?" Dutch raised his brows.

"Because, Dutch, the woman has had a tough few days bein' tied up to a damn tree and not bein' able to tend to herself." Arthur protested on her behalf.

"Whatever you say," Dutch replied, rolling his eyes. "Just keep an eye on her and don't let her outta your sight."

"Alright," Arthur sighed. "You ever find a buyer for them bonds we stole?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Not yet, but Hosea's workin' on it." He replied.

"When we headin' west?"

"Soon... I don't know,"

"Feels like things have changed," Arthur admitted. "The whole world has changed. That they don't want folk like us no more. We're being hunted."

"We are smarter than them. Only the feeblest of men take jobs in the government,"

Arthur laughed, "I hope so!"

"Trust Dutch, Mister Morgan," Molly O'Shea intervened, knitting. "You have to."

Arthur nodded before his attention was turned on young Lenny, who was rushing into the camp, his breathing jagged. "They got Micah!"

"What's goin' on?" Dutch asked as he and Arthur were now marching towards the young man.

"They got Micah. He, he's been arrested for murder. He was in Strawberry and-" Lenny explained, out of breath.

"It's okay, son," Dutch cooed. "Breathe..."

"They nearly lynched me," Lenny said, resting his palms on his knees as he took a deep breath. "They... They got Micah in the sheriff's in Strawberry and there's talk of hangin' him."

"Here's hopin'." Arthur muttered.

"Arthur!" Dutch scolded.

"What? The fool brought this on himself. You know my feelings about him, Dutch." Arthur explained.

"You think I can't see past his bluster to the heart inside? He is a fine man." Dutch protested.

"No, I ain't savin' that fool." Arthur said.

"I can't go!" Dutch argued. "My face will be all over West Elizabeth. I am asking. He would do it for you."

Arthur raised his brows, "I don't think he would, but- fine, alright." He grumbled.

"Arthur..."

"You okay, Lenny?" Arthur asked the young boy, wanting to avoid any further arguments.

"Yeah, of course, I'm okay." Lenny replied, now sitting at the nearby table.

"You don't seem okay." Arthur said as he walked towards him.

"You take that kid into town. Valentine, not Strawberry... Get him drunk... And Arthur, no crazy business." Dutch warned, pointing his finger at the man.

"I've given that up!" Arthur replied, waving his arms.

"And you get Micah out of that jail." Dutch added.

Arthur sighed in defeat, "Come on, son. I'll get to it, Dutch. Just... Can't drop everything."

He led Lenny out of earshot of Dutch, "Wait on me. I gotta go get our friend."

"Who?"

"Miss Barlow. Hosea told me to take her into town." Arthur replied.

"So Hosea told you, huh? Is that what we're callin' it now?" Lenny teased, raising his brow.

"Shut up," Arthur grumbled as he turned to walk towards Minnie, whose head was leaned back onto the tree, looking like she was trying to get some rest. "Alright, Miss Barlow, you ready?"

"Nevermore." She sighed, feeling his presence crouch down to where he could cut her ropes away.

"Come on, then," He said gruffly, holding out his hand for her to take, helping her up as he could tell she almost didn't have any feeling left in her legs.

"We're goin' now?" She questioned, confused as it was almost dusk.

"Now or never. Come on," He teased. "Already got your horse saddled for you."

"Well, aren't you just the gentleman!" She teased.

"All the best!"

He smirked at her remark, ushering her ahead of him, "You need any help?" He asked her as they neared her horse, worried that she was too weak.

She shook her head, "Not necessary, Mister Morgan," She smiled as she effortlessly pulled herself atop Trace, patting his thick neck as he nodded his head. "Good boy."

"Alright, Lenny, let's get on." Arthur said as he too mounted his horse, ushering the gelding to walk on, Lenny and Minnie following suit.

"I rode as fast as I could. I didn't stop for nothin'!" Lenny explained.

"You look like you've been through it!" Arthur replied.

Lenny sighed, "I'm beat. We finally got off that mountain, then this... Micah's got a crazy side, Arthur..."

Micah's name rung a bell in Minnie's head. She rode behind Lenny, which she was glad considering the confused look she was giving him. She had a fellow who briefly rode in her gang, Micah Bell, who had been giving information to her former supervisor, Andrew Milton, after she had robbed him before she became an outlaw. 'I hope it's not the Micah I'm thinkin' about...' She thought to herself.

"What were you boys doin'?" Arthur asked, breaking Minnie's train of thought. "You're supposed to be scoutin' ahead for us!"

"I kept asking him what we was doing, but he was "you worry too much kid", "just some business to attend to kid"... You know how he is."

"Yes, I do." Arthur sighed.

"He was half-soaked before we even got there!" Lenny continued. "Then we ran into some fellers, one of them Micah knew, drank some more... and this is supposed to be a dry town we're in too."

"Then he shoots one of them... I know how that goes..."

"Couldn't even tell you quite how! It happened like the strike of a match! The law was on us fast too! They was ready to string me up there and then but I got away, just about."

"You're alright now. We'll take care of it," Arthur assured the young man. "You feelin' any better, Miss Barlow?" Arthur asked as Valentine was now in view.

She sighed, "I guess I gotta be. Still a little sore, but I'll pull through."

"Are all of them stories true? About how you could rob a bank without nobody knowin' until you're long gone?" Lenny asked, his tone intrigued.

"I suppose. I got the law after me quickly after they found out! It's a story for later, though." She shrugged.

"Okay, Miss Barlow," Lenny nodded. "So, Arthur, you're gonna go get him? I'll come with you!"

"No, you leave it to me. For now, let's all drink something. Forget about Micah."

───※ ·❆· ※───

"I'll catch up," Minnie said as she dismounted her horse. "I'm gonna go buy me some new clothes, then go to the hotel to get a bath. I desperately need it!" She suggested.

"You sure? You know I'm supposed to be keepin' my eyes on you. Dutch reminded me real quick before we left." Arthur reminded her. Not that I don't mind keepin' my eyes on you... He thought to himself as he let himself get lost in her hazel eyes.

"Positive, Mister Morgan," She assured him. "Besides, I'm confident I'll be endin' up keepin' my eyes on the pair of you all night. Just have a feelin'!" She teased, pointing at the men.

"Miss, I've given that up!" Arthur chuckled in defeat.

"Sure, and I'm a dandy!" She rolled her eyes.

"You need any money?" He asked her in a low tone, not wanting Lenny to overhear.

She shook her head, "No, I stole some of my money back from Colm before we left the cabin. The dumbass really thought nobody would find his stash in the chimney." She replied, the hurt from losing her father reminding her that Six Point Cabin was no longer a place to call home.

"Okay, want me to walk you to the general store?" He suggested.

"I'll be fine. Now get in there and have a good time. I'll meet up with you later." She waved her hand at him, sneaking a glance at Lenny who looked relieved to hear that they were getting ready to drink instead of bickering back and forth over who was going to do what.

He nodded, hiding a smirk behind the brim of his hat, "Yes, ma'am."

She held back a smile as she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him walk away before she turned on her heel to walk to the general store, the clothing immediately catching her eye.

"Anna!" A familiar voice called to her from behind the counter.

"Graham!" She smiled, relieved that he called her by her middle name. "How are you?"

"The usual - gettin' up every day before the birds and standin' here all day!" He chuckled. "How are you? How's your father? I talked to him a few days ago. The man's getting spunkier in his age!" He teased.

She held back a frown, "I'm gettin' there, I suppose," She hesitated. "I reckon I got myself in a bit of trouble and my sins caught up with me..."

"A-Are you okay? What happened?" Graham asked.

"That bastard Colm O'Driscoll," She grit her teeth. "You probably don't know him, but I'm sure you know of that so-called gang he runs around with. He's been lookin' for me apparently. Sent some fellers out to scope out dad's cabin. Came up a while later and held me hostage while Colm killed daddy right in front of me." She explained.

Graham frowned as he walked from behind the counter, engulfing her in his arms, "I'm so sorry, Minnie," He whispered, caressing her back for comfort. "Your father loved you, don't forget that."

"I-I know," She replied, her voice tampered with her own tears. "I just hate he had to be involved. Maybe, just maybe, I could've prevented it. That's why I stayed away for so long. I knew my choices would catch up to me, but I never intended for them to catch up to him, too." She whimpered.

"I know. Just know that I'll always be here whenever you need me. I watched ya grow like a weed and know your father would want someone to at least look out for you, even though you always tend to keep a sharp eye on yourself." He explained.

She shook her head, "I know. I'm gonna try to stay here for as long as I can. Hopin' I'll cross paths with that bastard one day."

"Now, Minnie, it ain't about revenge." He warned.

She scoffed playfully, "You ever heard of a social call?"

───※ ·❆· ※───

She gave Graham a weak smile as she handed him some folding money for her new attire: a navy-blue skirt with a creme chemise to match, dark grey trousers, black trousers, dark grey trousers, a loose-fitting blouse, and a rugged jacket made by Carhartt. "Thank you for everything."

"It's no problem. I hope to see you around?" He asked.

"You should. I don't reckon I'm goin' anywhere for a while." She replied.

"You still stayin' at your Pa's?"

"No, I'm campin' now." She blushed.

"Whereabouts?" He questioned.

"I couldn't tell ya." She chuckled.

He playfully rolled his eyes as he decided not to ask further questions as he suspected she had either fallen in with a new gang or created her own, or maybe decided to stay alone.

───※ ·❆· ※───

She made haste in settling into the hot bath, her breath hitching as she had been longing for the feel of hot water on her skin. She leaned back, dunking her hair under the water before scrubbing her hair and scalp with the provided shampoo, letting the suds soak her locks as she soothed her skin with a bar of soap. After doing so, she scanned the room, finding a safety razor designed for men, using it to shave her legs, underarms, and the region below her naval as she was one who only liked hair on her head. After drying off, she took a moment to decide on what she should wear to meet Arthur and Lenny in the saloon, deciding on her more "manly" clothes for the occasion, having a gut feeling that she may end up getting herself into a fight.

Her trousers hugged her hips fondly, giving her enough baggage to move around. She tucked in her blouse before slipping on her new jacket, loving how comfortable she looked. She slipped on her new boots as she let her drying hair down into its natural waves, the smell of her lavender shampoo radiating minorly. She slipped her dirty clothes in the paper bag with her new dress as she walked through the corridor of the hotel, nodding at the clerk before walking onto the muddy street, greeting Trace as she bunched up the bag, along with her old shoes, into his saddlebag before putting some more folding money in her jacket pocket, walking proudly into the saloon. She didn't look around long until she found Arthur and Lenny leaned up against the bar. As she approached, she leaned up next to Arthur, noticing that his face was red as the demon drink was starting to get the better of him.

"Thought you gave up drinkin' like that?" She asked. His head perked up as he recognized her voice. His blue eyes looking at her, staying on her for a few moments.

"Miss Barlow," He breathed. "I almost didn't recognize ya, there."

"It's okay," She smiled. "What did you get to drink?"

Arthur gulped as his eyes never left her, "Just a beer... Or two... Or three!" He chuckled.

"Oh, so it just takes three to get ya tipsy? What kinda man are you?" She teased, hearing Lenny burst out cackling as he too had far too much to drink.

"Are you challenging me, Miss Barlow?" Arthur raised his brows.

"I just might be," She winked. "How about somethin' harder than that yeast water you're drinkin', huh? Whiskey or bourbon?"

"Surprise me." He licked his lips. She shot him a sly smirk as she waved the bartender over, requesting ten shots of whiskey - five for her, five for him.

To start.

"So, you think you're big and tough, huh? Let's see how much liquor you can shoot back." She teased.

"Bet you won't do it, Arthur!" Lenny encouraged as he saw the look of disgust on Arthur's face as he looked at the whiskey in the shot glasses, the caramel color bringing back horrid memories of how many times he had gotten intoxicated.

"Damn you, Lenny!" Arthur replied as he hated to feel like he was being challenged. He looked at Minnie with a suspicious glare, "You two ain't to be goin' out together. You two are nothin' but trouble brewin' and I can see it!"

Minnie chuckled, "Whatever you say. You coulda had four of them shots downed by now, but you keep makin' excuses!" She teased him, downing her second shot.

"Dammit, woman!" He chuckled as he downed his first shot, the familiar liquid coaxing his throat. In truth, he hated drinking, but it sure made him forget about the things he worried about the most. As a few minutes went by, Arthur didn't realize that Lenny had joined in on the shots while also ordering more liquor for Minnie and himself.

"I'll be right back." Arthur said, watching Minnie as she was taking her uncounted shot, smirking at the slight blush on her cheeks.

"Where ya goin'? Givin' up?" She teased.

"You really wanna know?"

"Sure, why not?" She rolled her eyes.

"I gotta go find me a tree to water! You got any more questions?" He chuckled.

"Maybe I just do!" She mocked.

"Then ask away!"

"I done forgot." She giggled, winning a laugh from Lenny.

Arthur shook his head, "I would say keep an eye on the boy, but that opportunity is far out the window! I'll be right back. Stay here."

Minnie pointed to the ground, "Right here?"

"Yes, right there."

Goddamn she's awful cute when she's drunk, He thought to himself, hiding a smirk behind his stern persona, hoping that he would have to take care of her after the night was over with.

"Yes, sir." She replied.

"You're somethin' else." He chuckled as he made his way towards the back door of the saloon.

"Hey Lenny, wanna go rile him up?" Minnie asked, sloshing her beer bottle around.

"What you have in mind?" He giggled, taking another sip of his beer. "Makin' him look for us like a fool?"

"That works! He barely knows who we are at this point! Hell, I barely know who I am!" She laughed.

"Alright, alright. Let's go upstairs and watch from the balcony and see what he does!" Lenny suggested. The pair laughed as they each stumbled on at least two stairs the way up to the second floor of the saloon.

"Wouldya just look at that - a white woman goin' to get hot coffee with a colored man!" A stranger mocked.

"I suggest you mind your tongue, friend." Minnie warned.

"Or what?" The stranger mocked, making a purposeful scared expression.

"Or I'll give you a reason for you to think your pa wished he pulled out," She hissed. "Times are changin', Mister, get over it. Ain't none of your business what we're doin' anyway!"

"What a nasty mouth you have on you!" He replied.

"Yeah? And what a nasty attitude you have!" She spat.

"Is that all you got?"

"Trust me, friend, you don't wanna start a fight with her..." Lenny warned.

"Never been scared of a woman and don't plan on it. Besides, she won't do shit!"

Minnie grit her teeth as she took his pitcher of beer roughly from his hand, thrusting the beer into his face before smashing the pitcher over his head as she delivered a blow to his groin with her knee.

"What was that?" She mocked as she was now standing over him.

"Nothin'! I said nothin'!" He cried, clutching his groin.

"That's what I thought," She replied as she crouched down to his level. "How's this for a nasty mouth: fuck off." She gave a sarcastic smile.

The man groaned, "Damn you!"

She chuckled and grabbed Lenny's elbow, returning to the original plan, "Are you okay?" She asked, hoping his feelings weren't hurt by the stranger's racist remark.

"I'm used to it. Don't hurt my feelin's none," Lenny assured, leaning on the banister. "Look! I believe that's our dear friend stumblin' in here like a reject! Look at him! Lookin' around like 'where's them two fools?'" Lenny laughed.

"Lenny!" They heard Arthur shout as almost every soul in the saloon was looking at him, shocked as he approached almost every person, addressing them to be his dear friend.

"Look at that fool!" Lenny pointed, laughing, soon catching Arthur's attention.

"The pair of you! You're in trouble!" Arthur shouted as he was to the brink of stumbling as he ascended the staircase. Minnie and Lenny were giggling profusely as they knew Arthur to be a stern and dominant man, not a vulnerable and foolish man.

"Oh, no, you hear that, Lenny? The new sheriff is in town!" Minnie joked.

"Hello, Arthur!" Lenny slurred as he was now balancing his empty glass on his head like a circus clown.

"What're you doin', kid?"

"You know what, I don't know!" He laughed as the glass slipped, falling to the story below. Arthur, Minnie, and Lenny shared a laugh as they all tried to catch it to keep it from breaking. Minnie laughed as she excused herself to retrieve more beers.

"Why ain't you never married?" Lenny asked Arthur after Minnie was out of earshot.

"No one would have me." Arthur replied.

"Nah, that ain't true! You and that woman have been fightin' like a married couple already!" He teased, nudging Arthur with his elbow.

Arthur scoffed, "Nah, we just get along good, that's all."

"Whatever you say."

The men continued to laugh along with the music as well as mocking strangers, sipping on their drinks more after Minnie returned.

"Well hey there, lady." Arthur slurred, leaning on the banister, looking Minnie up and down, which was rather bold of him.

"Hey there, Mister Morgan." She giggled.

"You come here often?"

"Uh... I came here with you!" She laughed.

"Huh? You did? Wh-"

"I think it's time for us to go now." She suggested, the familiar feeling of intoxication radiating through her.

"Go where?" He smirked as she gently grabbed his arm, ushering for him to follow her down the stairs, but he quickly protested. "Rooms are that way!" He slurred as he reached out and pulled her back.

"We gotta go back to camp!" She giggled. "Come on, you won't remember a thing after you wake up."

Arthur scoffed, "That's the thing you see-" He sighed as he was suddenly hit by realization. "Where's Lenny? Lenny!" He said as he turned to walk down the stairs, Minnie following closely behind him, feeling like she was having to pose as his host for the night.

"Slippery little shit, ain't he?" They heard a stranger yell.

"That's the same bastard who made a comment to me and him earlier!" Minnie said as she rushed in front of him, hurrying down the stairs, seeing Lenny cornered as he was standing on the bar, fending for himself with an empty bottle, ready to throw it.

She rushed to the familiar stranger, pulling him away from the action by his jacket, pulling him into her, their noses almost touching, "What did I tell you? Leave him alone!" She hissed.

"Actually you told me to fuck off, but I won't take your words seriously." He snarled. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, taking her right hand and thrusting her palm upwards into his nose, feeling it crack under her pressure while her left hand balled into a fist, punching him in the temple. He didn't go down easy as she had thought, but she figured that another blow to his groin would be more than enough. The other man was about to approach her when Arthur intervened, "Leave the kid alone, you goddamn animals!" He slurred.

"Who do you think you're talkin' to?"

"Nobody! I'm talkin' to nobody!" Arthur slurred.

"What did you say?"

"What?" Arthur mocked. Minnie watched with a chuckle, thinking that the pair of them, along with Lenny, could create a heap of trouble by going out together.

"I said, what did you say?" The stranger raised his voice.

"Get lost, buddy!" Arthur threatened, pushing him back by his chest.

"Shut up, Mister!"

"Yeah... shut your mouth, Mister!" The stranger agreed.

"Darlin'! Go get some more beer!" Arthur laughed as Lenny jumped down from the bar. Her heart fluttered as she did as she was asked as the men decided it would be funny to do a line dance.

After a few more beers, Arthur and Minnie danced sloppily for a while, laughing along and mocking Lenny as he found a woman to flirt with who was twice his age. "You sure look awfully pretty," Arthur said to her.

"Well thank you, Mister Morgan," She blushed. "But I am afraid that you have bad eyesight!"

Arthur scoffed, "Nonsense, both of ya is pretty."

"There ain't both of me, Arthur." She giggled.

"Right now there is!" He chuckled.

"Alright, I think it's time to go now." She laughed, grabbing a hold of his jacket, tugging him along behind her.

"Wait! Where's Lenny?" He protested. "LENNY!" He yelled.

She turned around with her eyes wide and her jaw dropped, "Arthur! It is two in the morning! You're gonna wake the dead!" She scolded.

"Minnie! Lenny's are everywhere in there! Buncha chocolate people!" He protested.

She couldn't help but laugh at him, "There's only one L-"

"LENNY!" He shouted again, taking his arm from her grip and walking back into the saloon, continuing to shout his name.

Jesus, help me, She thought to herself. I may be drunk, but I know when I'm about to make a fool outta myself, She shook her head as she took a seat outside of the saloon, keeping tabs on Arthur's whereabouts by the tones of LENNY! throughout the saloon. About fifteen minutes later, he and Lenny stumbled out of the saloon, laughing and holding their stomachs as they pranced through the muddy streets of Valentine, followed by a small outfit of lawmen. Minnie didn't worry about them recognizing her as she knew she was the last thing on their mind at this point.

"There they are!" She heard a man say before a lawman tackled Lenny, stabilizing him.

"Come here, you drunken bastard!" One of the lawmen demanded.

"Never!" Arthur yelled as he retreated, stumbling into the alleyway as he tried to make an escape. "You'll never take me alive!"

Minnie shook her head as she held in a laugh, "These damn drunken fools, what a sight!"

"Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness!" She heard Arthur yell in the distance before hearing a harsh thud.

"Yep, he gone." She said to herself, relieved that he was now under control.

[player1064]

feb 2016 🤔

WIP asks but it's just the various sections of my happy (???) beville (/angsty carraville) WIP

quick authors note this is smutty but not THAT smutty but also possibly the smuttiest thing I've ever written in my life which is not saying much but this is just to say. go easy on me on that front 😅

---

February, 2016.

It feels a bit pathetic to admit, but Gary’s only slept with one person his whole life. His mates tease him about it, even Becks does sometimes, but to Gary it’s almost a point of pride. He’s spent the last twenty years honing his skill in the art that is making love to David Beckham, and he’s not just tooting his own horn when he says he’s damn good at it.

This, though, this isn’t making love. This is fucking, plain and simple and ugly. And it’s not David.

He’s on his back on a king-sized bed in a hotel room in Barcelona, and he’s staring resolutely up at the ceiling trying not to think too much about the fact that it’s Jamie Carragher looming over him, Jamie Carragher pinning his wrists above his head, Jamie Carragher’s dick pushing inside him.

It’s rough, not in an unpractised way (almost suspiciously not, when Gary thinks of the cool silver band still sitting on Jamie’s finger), but in a ‘this is all I want from you’ way. In a ‘this is all you deserve’ way.

Becks is never rough with him. He can’t be, it’s just not who he is. Even when they were younger, when everything was new and exciting and they were still trying to learn what made each other tick, even then, when Gary had asked if he could try throwing him round a bit, he’d never been able to make it work. He loves Gary too much to hurt him, he’d said, apologetic. Not even consensually.

Jamie Carragher has no such fucking problem.

He’s muttering as he thrusts, a mixture of insults and obscenities that Gary’s mostly tuned out. He scrapes his teeth over Gary’s sensitive spots, just on the wrong side of too much pressure, and he presses his fingers so hard into the soft flesh of Gary’s middle that he just knows it’s going to leave a mess of bruises behind.

A mess of bruises which Becks won’t ever need to know are there, because when Gary goes home tomorrow it’ll be to the house he’s renting in Valencia, the one that’s always so jarringly quiet and empty because Becks isn’t there, Becks is still in Manchester.

The thought makes tears prick in his eyes, and Jamie pauses, moves a hand up to touch Gary’s cheek, unnervingly gentle. Gary has no choice but to look at him, them, to remind himself what it is exactly he’s doing here. That’s enough to push him over the edge, he feels a tear well over and roll down his cheek, clamps his lips shut before there’s a chance for a sob to escape.

Jamie, still too gentle, brushes the tear away with his thumb. He’s frowning, worried even as he’s panting from the exertion, even as he’s kneeling there with his dick halfway into Gary’s arse.

“Don’t,” he says quickly, looking away again with an embarrassed blush. “Please, just don’t. I said I wanted a distraction, didn’t I, so fuckin’ get on with it.”

“Are y’sure?”

Gary nods, and Jamie does too, just once in confirmation, before his fingers go to grip Gary’s hips and he pushes back inside of him, the force of it painful in the exact right way.

Later, when they’re done, Jamie rolls off Gary and onto his back, sweaty and exhausted. He grins when Gary turns his head to look at him, opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, and Gary leaps out of the bed to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Oh, God.

What has he done.

Jamie gives him a minute before following him into the bathroom, squatting down next to him to rub his back as he sobs over the toilet bowl.

“This is makin’ me feel all wrong, Gary. I never meant to upset you, I thought you wanted it like –”

“—I did,” Gary interrupts. “I did, this is nothin’ to do w’that. ‘snothin’ to do w’you, don’t be so full of yourself.”

“Well excuse me for worryin’, I’ve never ‘ad someone cry while I’m fuckin’ them before.”

“You fuck a lot of people, then?” Gary asks, turning to look pointedly at Jamie’s wedding ring.

Jamie bristles. “Maybe I do, yeah. None of your fuckin’ business, is it? You’re the one who was askin’ for it, you desperate slut.”

Despite having come just a few minutes ago, despite being knelt on a cold bathroom floor with tear tracks on his face and the taste of vomit in his mouth, Gary feels his dick twitch with interest at the words, just a tiny bit. He feels his cheeks flush, hopes Jamie hasn’t noticed.

“I’ve never –” Gary takes a shaky breath. “I’ve never done nothin’ like this before. I’m – I have someone. I’ve had someone, for last twenty years. We never, uh, we’ve never had to live apart before, not for this long. It’s been tough. And that loss, today…”

He sighs, lets himself lean back against Jamie’s bare chest, lets Jamie press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“It stops feelin’ so bad, eventually,” he says softly. “The guilt. You get used to it. But I know, the first time is – I never knew you ‘ad a partner.”

“No, ‘cause it’s none of your fucking business, Jamie. And this isn’t – this isn’t a first time, it’s an only time. You might be able to fuck around all you want, but that’s not me.”

“Ha ha,” Jamie says flatly. “Who knows, Gary, maybe you’ll be back in Manchester with yer partner sooner’n you think, the way people were goin’ on in that press conference.”

“Don’t even fuckin’ joke about that, Carra, what a shitshow.”

[nero-vanderwolf]

(takes place in 2009)

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was dependable.

He was stupid, reckless, and often didn’t think things through, but he’d always come running to help you. He’d throw himself in front of you if you needed protection. He would do everything in his power to help you.

Something Shinjiro found himself relying on more and more recently.

He’d been out of practice, living on the streets. He wasn’t as skilled as he’d used to be, resorting to heavy blows and heatbutts to finish off enemies. Unfortunately, Aki noticed.

“Hey, you good? You look tired, Shinji,” he said one day, as Shinjiro leaned against a wall.

“ ‘M fine. Don’t worry about me, Aki,” Shinjiro replied, and felt a hand rest on his shoulder. It took everything in his power not to lean into it, to let himself enjoy Aki’s company.

It’d be better for both of them if they stayed distant. It’d be better for Aki. Shinji didn’t want to risk him getting hurt too.

“If you need to take a break, you should tell Makoto. He’ll swap you out with someone else,” Aki continued, and Shinji felt his resolve waver as his old friend stepped closer. Shinji could feel his body heat, hear his breath. Did Aki always have freckles?

“Shinji, seriously, do you need to stop? You look feverish,” Aki said, leaning closer. Shinji felt his muscles tense up.

“I’m fine. Let’s keep going- the others are probably worryin’ about us,” Shinji murmured, pushing past his friend. He couldn’t keep doing this. He really couldn’t.

Aki stumbled slightly, and Shinji felt hands on his shoulders whirling him around. “What is your problem?”

Shinji tensed. “Fuckin’ nothing. Just tryin’ to get back into the swing of things. What’s your problem?”

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was pathetically easy to provoke. Even the smallest slight against him set him off. The slightest provocation pissed him off.

“My problem? Look, Shinji. You keep fucking ignoring me, and when you do talk to me you randomly shut down!”

Shinji scowled, and Aki gripped the front of his shirt. “You’re a damn asshole, Shinji, and-”

Shinji bashed their heads together, shaking. “...Meet me in my room when we get home. I have something I want to tell you.”

One thing about Akihiko Sanada was that he was reliable. If he said he would do something, he would do it. So when Aki promised he’d be there, Shinji knew he would.

If only the circumstances were better.

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING

shinji distancing himself from aki so he doesnt get hurt. he feels like hes doing it for aki's sake but it's really just hurting him. aki will do anything to protect him but shinji doesnt want him to get hurt. he doesnt want anyone to get hurt because of him again. he doesnt want aki to die because of him. more guilt and blood on his hands. also them both having a short temper... everything just escalates between them and they just. bounce off each other. aki protects shinji, shinji stays away from aki, aki confronts him, shinji gets angry, aki gets angry, and aki keeps his promises.

[punisheye]

How do you feel about the blonde Vash?

"I think no matter what fuckin' universe that guy comes from, he's always gonna have a knack for pissin' me off." And he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like he's lucky he's cute, before swiftly moving on.

Wolfwood's teeth catch on his bottom lip, worrying away until the skin is wet and slightly flushed. Thinking, hard, because there's a lot to say and he'd also rather not say everything.

"I want him t'be selfish," he says, then makes a face and tries again: "Well, he already is, whether he thinks so or not. I mean, wish he'd focus on himself sometimes. Always worryin' over other people and actin' like he's always gotta be useful... get a grip. Tryin' so hard to save everyone he won't even save himself.

"Livin' like that for so long's gotta be exhaustin', right? Livin' so long and he still don't know how the world works. Surprised he hasn't snapped, anyone else would.

"It still don't make sense to me how he could forgive me after... what happened. How he was glad that shadow was safe. Still makes me a li'l dizzy when I remember how easily he accepted him. I think he shoulda been angrier."

The forgiveness blindsided him. No wonder he cried.

"Anyway, I wanna see him eat n'laugh n'smile a real smile. He's got a nice smile when he means it, just like Spikey does."

His expression turns into one of embarrassment almost instantly. He awkwardly scratches one of his ears, which is feeling a little bit warm.

"He really messes with my head sometimes. Don't get the wrong idea— he's... my friend. Just a weird idiot, too. And I don't want him to think he's gotta take on everything by himself. Spikey does that shit. Drives me crazy. Both of 'em do."

It's said with a bit of fondness there, at the end.

[eiirisworkshop]

Everything Changes

A Brokeback Mountain fanfiction Complete fic available to read on Ao3 here.

~

Chapter 1: In Which Junior Unwittingly Starts a Journey

Junior stood in the kitchen helping her mother clean up from dinner. A thought crossed her mind and she voiced it. "Hey, Mama? You think Daddy's ever gonna remarry?"

Alma paused in washing a plate, then resumed slowly. "No, I don't think so. I asked him once an' he said, you know, once burned."

Junior closed the cabinet she'd been putting glasses in. "That's too bad."

Alma looked at her daughter. "Why? D'you want a stepmother?" She didn't sound accusing, just incredulous.

"No, that's not what I mean." Junior faced her mother. "It's just, you've got Bill and"—she shrugged and shook her head—"I don't like to think a Daddy bein' alone."

Alma turned back to the sink a little too quickly for the motion to be entirely natural. "I don't think you need to be worryin' about that."

Junior blinked, not oblivious to her mother's slightly odd behavior and tone. She shifted her weight more to one foot. "Mama?"

"You just don't need to worry about that, Junior."

"Mama, if you mean that blonde woman he was seein', I don't think there's anything to that anymore."

"I'm not sure I know he was seeing any blonde woman." Alma shut the water off with ore vigor than was strictly necessary. "And it doesn't matter if he has been or is or is not. You don't need to worry about him being alone."

Something in her mother's voice caught Junior's attention: not quite an edge—a dulled edge maybe, or the memory, like a scar, of an edge that had once been sharp, but now was worn down. It sounded to Junior like it had been an edge of resentment. She stood there a long moment, watching her mother dry dishes, thinking: what could have hurt her mother? What might her mother have resented, but was now long enough passed for her to pretend to have forgotten? After the long moment was gone and she'd thought of no specific answer, Junior quietly asked, "What aren't you saying?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's somethin' you're not sayin' here, somethin' you ain't happy about. I can tell, Mama." When her mother said nothing, Junior chewed her lip and, before she could think better of it, asked after the one thing she had thought of that might have bothered Alma the way she seemed bothered, even though Junior didn't see how it could be right. "Did Daddy cheat?"

"What?" Alma whirled to face her daughter. "Junior what are you—?"

"I want to know the truth. I want to know why I shouldn't worry about my Daddy being alone. Has he got some secret girlfriend? And I wanna know what happened anyway! All I've ever been told is 'oh, well, things just didn't work out.' But I remember you crying and Daddy yelling, and I knew I wasn't being told half of the truth and I know the same thing now." She took a deep breath. "I worry about Daddy and the way you're telling me not to isn't helping."

"Junior!" Junior looked away. Her mother sighed. "We didn't tell you things because you were much too young and, really, it comes down to things just didn't work out."

"Well, what about now? Why shouldn't I worry about Daddy? I'm old enough to know my father isn't a super hero, he has faults just like everybody. Did he cheat? Has he got a secret girlfriend?"

"He hasn't got a secret girlfriend. Now drop it."

Junior crossed her arms. "I notice you're not sayin' he didn't cheat."

"I said drop it."

"I want to know!"

"You don't need to know!"

"By that logic, I might as well stop going to school."

"Junior."

"Well? I just wanna know a little bit of the truth. From this conversation so far, I'm pretty well convinced that he probably did cheat. I'm not mad if he did, even if maybe I should be. I don't know. But I also can't think how that can be true. He only ever went to work or went fishing. He never had any friends, really, so he couldn't a been fooling around with some friend a his's wife. The one friend I remember him having, he an' his family are down in Texas. I don't think Daddy ever even met his wife."

Alma tossed her hair in frustration. "Maybe he didn't need nobody's wife to fool around with."

"What's that mean?"

Alma shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Mama."

"Listen," Alma put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and took a deep breath, "you're right. There is something I'm not saying and it's not just that I don't want to. I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Junior met her mother's eyes.

Alma bit her lip. "It's not my secret."

"What d'you—"

Alma turned back to the last of the dishes. "This conversation is over."

Junior hesitated, then said, "Fine," and marched off to her room ignoring the looks cast her way by her sister, stepfather, and young half-brother.

[a-musing-mixologist]

law slips on killer's lap soundlessly, it's not the first time he does so in the middle of the night when the thoughts weigh too heavy on him and his mind refuses to give him a blissful slumber. golden eyes look over the many plants scarred between small pieces ready to prepare smaller models that one day would aim to cause destruction. "if you wouldn't rely on weapons, what would you like to build? i mean, let's say you could travel freely and did not have to think of fighting, just go and explode and do whatever comes to mind."

the surgeon thinks of the ship they are sailing on, all the little things scarred across it that make every day much easier. kid's mind is full of wonders and there is so much he could imagine for the captain to come up with besides those weapons that one day will take down those who dared to rip those they loved from them.

"i'll give you an example from my perspective, i'd love to focus on research. just take as much time as i want while then just practicing as a simple doctor who does not always rely on devil fruit. i know, i use it so naturally often at this point but just taking care of silly cuts or tell you that your headache is caused by the lack of sleep."

his eyes finally close as he rests his head against the shoulder, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "something like that ... mh where killer just worries about what to make for dinner."

He slips his arms around the smaller man, chin resting against his shoulder. Sleepy Law is an interesting character, prone to mumbled ramblings and soft cuddles. Out of all of them he still seems to have the most trouble sleeping, though Killer has noticed he at least stays put when all three of them are tangled together in bed. Tonight though, Kid's up late working on yet another idea, leaving him a quiet moment to get some reading done. At least until the surgeon's arrival.

He sets the book down, humming thoughtfully. To travel freely, with no concern for battle. It's funny, really. Pirates are all about freedom, but of course it comes with a price. There's always the need to pull out a blade, either for protection from others seeking their own version of freedom, or those looking to limit it in the name of the World Government. "Heh. I could see that for ya. Think you'd settle someplace, or keep on sailin'? Like, a travelling doc?" He wonders if, once this adventure is over, Law will have that chance.

"Worryin' about jus' dinner might be nice fer a bit, but I think it'd get pretty boring, fwahaha!" He threads his fingers into Law's hair as he considers. "Well, maybe I'd learn t' cook proper, though dunno if I've got th' patience fer culinary school." He sighs. "Can't imagine ever settlin' down though, don't think it suits me, Kid, or any o' this lot. Probably just keep on sailin', explorin' th' world. Kid thinks that not even th' World Government really knows every island that exists. But even if everything is all mapped, it doesn't really make it any less interestin' t' visit places ya never been before. I think it'd be fun just t' see what's out there with my own eyes. As fer Kid, well, I don't think he'll ever stop buildin' things, weapons or not. He'll keep right on tryin' t' create whatever that mind of his comes up with! Maybe he'll make stuff t' help people instead. Or maybe jus'... art fer art's sake."

[ducknotinarow]

[SF Rasey]

The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but the ache was still deep in his side. Though he had told Raph to 'stop giving him that look', and trying to stop him from worrying, he was silently thankful that they had helped him out. It felt good to lay down, not keep any pressure on himself, and be taken care of - despite his light protest. It's just who Casey was, someone that didn't care about his wellbeing, and rarely let down his walls long enough for someone to help...

Then again, Raphael wasn't just any old somebody now, was he?

No, course he wasn't. He was his boyfriend, his rock, his soulmate. The one that dragged him back cause he knew he was too stupid and stubborn to not nearly let himself get killed. The one Casey trusted with his life, with everything, and in turn, Raph trusted him back. That's why he merely stared up at Raph with a soft gaze, frowning at the tremble in their voice, the crack in their words.

Oh Raph...

Slowly, Casey lifts his arm, the one on his good side, moving to gently cup Raph's cheek - he's glad they hadn't moved away. Dragging his thumb across their skin, Casey offers a smile, warm and loving,

"Ya doin' more than enough Raph," Casey tells him, "If ya weren't, you and the guys woulda gave up a long time ago, quit this stupid game, but you don't - ya keep gettin' back up, yous keep goin'," He points out, "Raph, you're always lookin' out for everyone, includin' my dumbass, ya always goin' in to protect us without a thought," He goes on, "You're doin' a lot Raph, for all of us - your brothers, me, Master Splinter."

He manages a soft laugh at that, trying to act normal about this situation himself,

"Betcha right now, Master Splinter's watchin' all of ya an' thinkin', 'wow, I'm so proud of my kids - look at 'em fighting all these stupid games to save me'," He stares at them, before managing another laugh, "Okay maybe not exactly like that, but ya get what I mean right?"

Casey thinks they do, or at least, he hopes they do,

"The point I'm makin', shell head, is ya doin' more than 'nough, ya keepin' us safe, ya fightin' an' takin' care of us, an' soon, Master Splinter's gonna be back home with you and the guys, makin' that rice an' veggie dish you all like, wearin' that apron of his," He suppresses his chuckles just thinking about it, "Gettin' emotional over his Soaps, drinkin' that tea of his - things will be normal."

Despite the ache, Casey forced himself to move, using his other elbow to help prop and push himself up. He ignored the way he winced, how his aches got worse; safe to say, he wasn't going anywhere for a while. It was enough though, Casey managed to keep himself up, long enough to steal a warm kiss, letting lips linger for a moment before pulling away. Forehead press to their own,

"I promise, things gonna be normal soon," He tells them, "An' I promise to be more careful to, least, try to, heh, can't have you worryin' all the time - make ya scales grey."

Though reluctant, Casey allows himself to move back, practically collapsing back onto the cot with an audible and tired huff,

"Ya fightin' hard 'nough Raph," He tells them again, "More than enough, an' I promise, at the end'a this, it's all gonna be okay."

Moving slightly, carefully rolling onto his good side, Casey made sure there was enough room for the pair of them to, just about, fit on the cot he was currently using as a bed,

"Now uh, Casey Jones may be outta the ring for now, but I'll be back out there takin' down those foot-bozos an' puke-frogs b'fore ya know it," He smirks at his dumb names, "But uh, 'til then, how 'bout ya lie down with me an' let me take care of yous for now Raph - think ya coul' d' with the extra lovin'."

| Muse interaction continued from [here]

It was just so, so much. It was heavy but Raphael couldn't explain that there wasn't anything physical weighting him down but damn it felt like something was. He blamed it for why his movements grew slower. Why he could sweep out foes fast enough. Like he was stuck in syrup. Raphael felt short on breath even like there just wasn't enough air in his lungs.

Every time they came back to the lair either because they were sent back or too hurt to continue. It got worse. Seeing Casey all beat up didn't help either, it was more a reminder it was more than just the four of them dealing with this shit. Before his mind could spiral out though he felt something rest against the side of his face it took him a moment to sort of understand it was Casey's hand, drawing him back from that back corner of his mind no one else could go. Feeling Casey's hand on his cheek though, that felt nice as he leaned in against the palm of their hand. Soaking in Casey's touch. It helped, Casey just helped. Seeing their dumb face was enough. How their thumb stroked over the side of his face seemed to help ease things to retreat again or in the least got Raphael to snap out of the mind set he was in a moment ago. Looking at Casey as they offered him a smile.

The way their smile curved, almost matched the way Casey's eyes creased in the corners to go along with it. Focused on grey and yellow coloring in Casey's eyes. They had his attention with the single touch that he was leaning into. Soaking in the warmth that he just wished to soak in to.

"Ya doin' more than enough Raph,"

"Maybe," Raphael manages to argue just a bit in turn, slightly turning his face into Casey's hand. He wasn't so sure himself about if he was doing enough. If Raphael had been doing enough these fights would be done with sooner. If he could sweep their foes a bit better even. His head was starting to hurt from thinking so much about it. Mikey like to joke that smoke could be seen working out of his nose when he tried to think.

"If ya weren't, you and the guys woulda gave up a long time ago, quit this stupid game, but you don't - ya keep gettin' back up, yous keep goin',"

Raph doesn't speak up this time he lets Casey talk as he simply presses his face in against their hand. Which kind of help with the headache he was starting to get. Just seeking out the comfort he got from their touch alone. Raph felt like that was more what Mikey did. But he guessed the getting back up part was true. He had to keep getting up there was still a fight to be fought after all.

"Raph, you're always lookin' out for everyone, includin' my dumbass, ya always goin' in to protect us without a thought,"

That did get the turtle to peek out from the hiding place he turned Casey's hand into. Was that enough though?

"You're doin' a lot Raph, for all of us - your brothers, me, Master Splinter."

Bringing up Splinter was a bit of a sore spot in that moment, it was sort of all any of them were focused on right now trying to get him back. Bring him back home. They just wanted their Dad home. Despite them all being here it just didn't feel right returning home and not seeing him in his room. Hell even his things were gone, so one couldn't even pretend he hadn't be take away from them the way he was. It was such a simple thing Raphael just wanted his dad back home, wanted to sit in their room with him as they forced him to fold pieces of paper over and over again. Growing annoyed and crumpling them only for Splinters usual joke about making snowballs to be mentioned. When Casey laughs though? it brings Raph back once again.

"Betcha right now, Master Splinter's watchin' all of ya an' thinkin', 'wow, I'm so proud of my kids - look at 'em fighting all these stupid games to save me',"

Raphael slightly lifts a brow as he tilts his head a tad bit at what Casey says, another laughs works out from his boyfriend and it helps lighten the air Raphael swears by it. Whatever that heavy weight was pushing down on his shoulder was? It seemed to lessen just a little bit. Maybe that was crazy but he swears it's true. Raphael down pull away from Casey's hand and lower it back down now.

"Okay maybe not exactly like that, but ya get what I mean right?"

Raph offer a slight nod of his head to answer, yeah he got what they meant and well he hopes that's true. That Splinter at least knows how hard they are all trying? Casey's right, Raphael too comforted by the thought Casey offers to really focus on the fact this idiot was right about something for once. Splinter had to know they were doing everything in their power to save him right? That they aren't going to give up on him Splinter. Splinter knew that right? Maybe he was proud of them for still going even.

"The point I'm makin', shell head, is ya doin' more than 'nough, ya keepin' us safe, ya fightin' an' takin' care of us, an' soon, Master Splinter's gonna be back home with you and the guys, makin' that rice an' veggie dish you all like, wearin' that apron of his,"

Raph nods once more and breaths as Casey speaks thinking about it himself. First thing Raph thinks him and his brother might ask for is that very dish of Splinters.

"Gettin' emotional over his Soaps, drinkin' that tea of his - things will be normal."

Again the turtle manages to breath, the air didn't seem so thin anymore. Raphael hears the shift of Casey's weight on the cot as the idiot starts to move around. He narrows his eyes a little feeling that usual flicker of his temper at work as he grew annoyed. "Casey-" not able to fully scold the idiot of his when thier lips press in against his beak. The white of his eyes widen a little not expected the kiss. But he feels himself lax against Casey's warmth, it didn't last long though for Raph to melt into as he found Casey's forehead pressing in against his own. Slowly he let the clam that Casey seemed to bring to him settle as he close his eyes a moment. Just focusing on breathing in the moment, he swears there is the faintest whiff of rain.

"I promise, things gonna be normal soon,"

"Yeah" Raphael hopes for the same. He like to be able to tell Splinter about him and Casey after all.

"An' I promise to be more careful to, least, try to, heh, can't have you worryin' all the time - make ya scales grey."

"I can jus' kick ya ass for you if ya don' I know ya don' learn ya lesson 'ight away." Raph manges to say back at Casey, soon letting the slight smile that got from him slip as he watched Casey need to pull back. Near about collapsing on to the cot as they let out a tried breath. The pit of worry in his gut just twisted a bit as he set his hands to side of it for a better look at Casey. Seemed they were in even more pain than even the turtle was aware of. If that was too much,

"Ya fightin' hard 'nough Raph,"

Raph blinks behind his mask as looks at Casey letting the corner of his beak twitch back into a slight smile. Yeah that's the idiot for you was all he could think, despite Casey being hurt and tried he still focused on Raphael.

"More than enough, an' I promise, at the end'a this, it's all gonna be okay."

Casey soon moves working to roll on to his good side opening up the space beside him

Moving slightly, carefully rolling onto his good side, Casey made sure there was enough room for the pair of them to, just about, fit on the cot he was currently using as a bed, Raph offered a faint tilt of his head trying to understand what they were doing. Laying on their side can't be better than being on their back? Casey was pretty big too that just made less room for him. Tempted to just take hold of their shoulder and make them flip on to their front so it be even harder for them to move off the cot. Nearly ready to assume Casey was going to try and get up and leave. He knows Casey's gotta protect his home turf and such but he needed to rest and heal first. Or Casey was going to wind up worse than he already was.

"Now uh, Casey Jones may be outta the ring for now, but I'll be back out there takin' down those foot-bozos an' puke-frogs b'fore ya know it,"

Oh? So Casey dose know he needs to rest? maybe its less painful on his side? Raphael least glad they are listening to him. Raph breaths out a laugh over the nicknames Casey gave to the foot ninjas and punk frogs, especially the punk frogs. It was funny. Before he looked towards his own room, he was pretty sure he got a spare blanket in his room he should grab it for them so they can rest a bit better the cot was gonna be their bed for the night.

"But uh, 'til then, how 'bout ya lie down with me an' let me take care of yous for now Raph - think ya coul' d' with the extra lovin'."

Raphael faintly blushes at the suggestion, and freezes on the spot for a moment as he looks down. Oh that's why he moved he was trying to make space for Raph to lie with him. He fixes his beak into a tight annoyed frown over the whole needing extra love right now. No resort because from just them cupping his cheek, the kiss and pressing his forehead to his own? Casey was right again. Fuck twice in one night?

Raphael dose, however, move to lie down. Gonna need it with Casey's undoing streak right now. "Thibk ya hit ya head," he idly tosses out before he gets settled beside Casey.

For a moment, he hesitates to get closer but soon forgets it. Casey and tank down nearly a tank of a bot on his own. Scooting in closer, he simply moves in to rest in against Casey. Slipping an arm gently as he can around Casey's side as he simply presses his face in aginst Casey's broad full chest. He can hear the sound of their heart slwoly beating. It's better than the claiming sound of ocean waves at night kind of, like the steady pace of rain. Raphael didn't feel as heavy as he had been for so long. He felt like he could breath so much easier now, the pressure on his head seemed to lighten away even.

"Thanks" He speaks against Casey's chest in that moment. It was all he really could bring himself to say. The only word he could really speak at that moment but he turly meant it. Casey really did help him to feel just a bit better about this all. Being here for him to hold to to just like this even. It's all he needed, and it what Casey gave to him a moment to need excatly this.

"Hey Case?" He waits a moment as he mulls it over "Do ya really 'hink my scales can turn grey?"

[iwannawritelots]

Mortality

Originally written May 2022

Ship(s): Mammon X MC

(genderless MC)

(not requested)

Trigger/content warnings: talking about death I guess?

Headcanons/notes from the author: no headcanons are directly used here.

Brief Blurb: Mammon wants to be with MC forever and is thinking about ways to accomplish it.

It was fairly cold in the human world, and Mammon was not at all affected as he walked you down the street. “Why do I have ta wear these warm clothes? It’s not even that cold out.” You sighed and facepalmed with your spare hand, very tired of this complaint. “I mean, look, I know some humans think it’s weird when people walk around in tank tops and shorts for cold weather, but I’m sweatin’ my ass off.” He huffed, then stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, which you quickly corrected by pulling him off to the side.

“Mammon, babe,” you told him, “firstly, don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk in the city. You should know that.”

“Oh…”

It was difficult to stay frustrated with him when he flustered and made his cute, embarrassed grin. “Secondly… it’s supposed to get really cold. I know you’re naturally a lot warmer since you’re a fallen angel, but odd looks are best avoided in the human world.”

“Ya say that like I haven’t ever been to it on my own…” he mumbled, fumbling with your hand.

Sighing, you watched him use your hand as a stim toy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You pulled him closer, then stood on your tip toes to kiss him. “I know you’ve been here millions of times without me. I just worry about you.”

Scoffing and biting back a smile, Mammon cupped your jaw. “Ya don’t have anything to worry about, darlin’. I’m a demon, remember?” You nodded, leaning into his touch slightly. “I… appreciate ya worryin’, though,” he admitted quietly, face flushing red.

“I just…” you sighed and closed your eyes. “I get really scared about drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“Babe,” he chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair. “There ain’t a thing to worry about. I’m a big, scary demon. I don’t even have to go into demon form to frighten a human, y’know?”

Your face fell a little. “Yeah…”

“_____…? Why the long face?”

“Nothing,” you told him, averting your gaze a little. “Let’s get going, the store might close if we don’t hurry.”

“Shit, yeah.” Mammon pulled you back into the foot traffic, keeping you close to himself. Once you two managed to step into the store, you both pulled your face masks up. You then took his jacket off of his shoulders and draped it over an arm. “Thanks, babe…” he muttered shyly.

Despite taking the jacket off, you could tell he was still entirely too warm from the store’s heating. “I’m sorry, you’re probably miserable from the warmth.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry, _____.” He smiled, and despite only seeing it in his eyes, you felt relief wash over you. “Let’s get a cart.”

“No, we’ll buy too much if we get a cart.” You ignored his pout as you picked up a shopping basket. “This is my money, Mammon.”

“I-I know…” he mumbled, taking the basket from you before grasping your hand once more. “I’m sorry.”

“I never said you needed to be sorry,” you reassured him softly. “I’m not upset.”

You led him to the produce section, then reluctantly let go of his hand to inspect the various fruits and vegetables. “Why’re ya squeezin’ that thing?”

“To make sure it’s a good one.”

After processing what you said, he furrowed his eyebrows and stared intensely at some of the fruit in front of him. He seemed puzzled, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “Do you not check if produce is good before you buy it, babe?”

“W-Well… Lucif—…” he stopped himself, glancing around with only his eyes before continuing. “Luci never really has me buy the groceries, and when I tag along I don’t really pay much attention to whoever is actually doing the shoppin’. I just kinda help carry stuff.”

“Didn’t you help Barbatos like, a week ago?” you chuckled, placing some of the good foods in the basket. “I know he inspects everything.”

Mammon pouted at you. “I told ya I ain’t payin’ attention when I help. I jus’ know if it looks weird then I shouldn’t eat it.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, I’m only teasing, Mammoney.” You very gently placed a hand on the small of his back, then led him to a different area of the store. “You’re just older than me, so I assume you know stuff like that.”

“Th-That’s fair…” He felt butterflies in his stomach from your touch. You were so gentle with him…

“Anyways,” you began, looking at the shelves, “do you still want popcorn for movies tonight?”

Mammon nodded. “Mmhm. Could we get those tiny rainbow chocolates to put in it?”

“You mean M&Ms?”

He bounced on his heels excitedly. “Yeah! Those!”

“Of course, baby.” You grabbed the popcorn and added M&Ms to the list on your phone. “Most of what we still need is in the next aisle.” He followed you close behind, not wanting to get lost or distracted by something. It was a little weird that he wasn’t talking very much. Usually, he couldn’t stop talking while you two were doing stuff alone.

By the time you two had finished shopping and paid, he hadn’t said very much. You were both carrying bags in both hands, and he was absolutely miserable with the jacket back on as well. When you got home, he instantly set the bags down and changed into something more comfortable. You didn’t mind, knowing he would come back and help put things away.

Well, that’s what he usually did. You had put away the cold stuff, and he still hadn’t returned to help. “Mammon?” you called out. When you received no response, you abandoned your task to search for him. Once you reached your bedroom door, he was talking on the other side.

“Lucifer, I ain’t comin’ home…” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Please stop callin’…” His voice was shaky and distressed. If it weren’t for your confusion keeping you in place, you would have come into the room to comfort him. “I want to stay. Jus’ let me talk to _____ about it, please…? I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me…”

You slowly opened the door, and he startled. “Mammon…?”

He hung up on Lucifer, then turned to face you. “S-Sorry…” he mumbled, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I wasn’t tryna make ya put everythin’ away by yourself.”

“Is something wrong…?” you asked, cautiously approaching him. “Do you need to go home?”

“N-No…” Mammon pulled you into his arms a bit more forcefully than he intended. “No… I just… I want to stay here wit’cha… forever…”

“Mammon…?”

“L-Lucifer found out I was talkin’ to Lord Diavolo about… stayin’ in the human world.” He sniffled, and you could feel his hands trembling against your back and shoulders. “I jus’ wanted to make sure it would be fine before I said anythin’ about it to you… but…”

You waited for him to speak, but he seemed to lose his train of thought. “But…?”

“L-Lucifer also found out I was… considerin’… becomin’ mortal…”

You attempted to move, but he squeezed you in order to prevent it. “Mammon—”

“I-I jus’ suggested it ‘cause Lord Diavolo wanted ideas of how I could stay with ya. I m-mean, I would give up anythin’ to be wit’cha…” A muffled sob escaped him, and he burrowed into your hair. “It seems like the best option to me, but Lord Diavolo and Lucifer would rather I faked mortality until you… y-you…”

Carefully, you squished him close to yourself and rubbed his back. “Mammon, giving up immortality is huge.”

“I-I jus’ couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it while we were shoppin’. I want to b-be with ya forever. I d-don’t want ya to go away…” he muttered between small, harsh cries. “I have been alive so long and no one has been so kind to me, or gentle with me…”

“Mammon—”

“I-I can’t take it… I can’t… have a life without ya…” he mumbled, nuzzling into you and kissing your head. “We’ve been together so long now, I jus’ keep gettin’ anxious about it…”

You managed to push yourself away enough to look him in the face. “Mammon, that is a very big decision to make just for me.”

“I’ve been alive forever, it ain’t gonna make a difference…” he said quietly, taking one of his hands away from you to rub one of his eyes. A weak, tiny wail left him as he curled into himself. “I-I’m not set on it anyways. Faking mortality would be easy…”

“It sounded like you are pretty set on it, Mammon,” you stated as calmly as you could. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A-A couple months…” Mammon took a deep breath, trying to relax himself. “I just… humans… don’t always come back as an angel or demon… y-y’know? They don’t remember anythin’ when they do, either…” he sniveled and ran his fingers through his hair. “I-I mean, sure, ya could come back… but… b-but… we wouldn’t be together anymore…”

“Mammon…”

“I-I just get scared whenever I wanna talk to ya, because I know you’ll think I’m bein’ hasty…”

“Why wouldn’t you want me to become a demon before that can happen?”

Mammon made a half hearted chuckle. “I asked… it’s complicated…”

“Why do you want us to be here? I like the Devildom,” you told him gently.

“I-I want ya safe…”

You giggled a bit, petting his hair. “What makes you think I’m safe here? Humans are always in conflict somewhere. You would be in danger if you were mortal, especially because of…” you trailed off, sighing. “We’d probably be safer in the Devildom.”

Sniffling and shaking his head, Mammon insisted, “You’d be unhappy livin’ there. It’s always dark, ‘n’ you’d probably have to do R.A.D. forever, unless Lord Diavolo could get us permission for inter realm marriage…”

“Didn’t he do that for Solomon and Asmodeus?”

“Y-Yes, but… but Solomon is immortal, and a prominent figure in the human realm…”

You gently cupped his cheeks and brushed his tears away with your thumbs. “Mammoney…?”

He sniffled and choked on sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I-I just… I love ya so much, _____… I c-can’t imagine life without ya anymore…” He carefully grabbed your wrists, but didn’t move your hands. “I-I don’t want ya to die… I want you…”

You hushed him and rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs once more, keeping the gesture going after he seemed to relax from it. “Mammon, we have time to think about this. We can work it out.”

“I-I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry, treasure…” he muttered, sniffling and squishing your wrists ever so slightly in his hands. “I-I’m sorry… please… j-just pretend I never brought it up…”

“Why don’t we just… put a pin in it? Come back to it later, I mean.” He opened his eyes slightly to gaze at your face, still crying. “Would that be okay? We don’t have to talk about it right now. We have time.”

Nodding and leaning into your hands, Mammon muttered, “Please…”

reblog divider

[nightmaretherabbit]

The Big Day (Gala and Salvador's wedding/Applesauce wedding day)

"You ready mom?" Goldie asked her mother while she helped her get into her wedding dress.

"Of course I am. I'm going to marry my true love." Goldie finished tying up her mom's dress.

"So how do I look?" Gala did a little twirl,

"You look so amazing mom. I'm so happy for you."

Gala gave Goldie a kiss on the forehead.

"Go get your dress on. The wedding will be in an hour or so."

"Oh! Right! " Goldie went to get her dress.

"What if she hates it?!" Salvador said as he paced around the room.Unlike Gala who was extremely excited and calm about the wedding, Salvador's anxiety was through the roof.

"She's gonna like it. She loves you. Now hold still so I can tie your bowtie!" Silverworth grabbed Salvador's wrist and yanked him back to where he was supposed to be standing.

"Yeah my mom loves you. She's gonna love you no matter what you wear!" Exclaimed Mac.

"Yeah, there's nothing to worry about." Added Smith.

"But what if this isn't good enough for her. Everything has to be perfect." Salvador was alarmed.

Silverworth finished tying Salvador's bowtie, then he grabbed his shoulders.

"Look at me Salvador! She will love it! She will be happy! She will like the wedding! And she wants to marry you!"

Salvador then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm stressing over nothing."

"Just say what I always say. 'I ain't to worried bout it.' It really helps." Cuphead and Mugman just came into the room. Mugman was wearing a nice tuxedo. And Cuphead was wearing a beautiful flower girl dress.

"Wow, Cupsy. You look amazing." Mac was blushing a little at the sight of his boyfriend.

"Same to you, Mac!" Cuphead gave his boyfriend a big smile. Mac's face turned an even darker shade of red.

Mugman looked at his brother and then said;

"Cuphead you better not mess up this wedding."

"Don't sweat it Mugsy. Also I'm the not one you should be worryin bout."

"Wait who should I be worrying about?"

"Chalice."

"Oh you're right..."

Gala was arm in arm with her father. Walking down the aisle after Cuphead had scattered beautiful flowers around the wedding hall.

"Glad you're getting married to a good man." Braeburn whispered to Gala as before she got up on the altar to stand next to Salvador. Gala gave her dad a big smile then turned to her red faced groom.

Salvador was extremely nervous, Gala looked stunning and he wondered if he looked ok enough.

Gala on the other hand was so excited. She has been waiting for this day since the moment Salvador proposed to her.

The Bishop from the king's castle was the wedding officiant. "Alright everyone take your seats."

"Today we are here for the wedding of Gala Kingston and Salvador Chroma."

Cuphead looked at Bubbly who was the ring bearer and realized the rings were missing. He turned to his brother, "Mugman." Whispered

"What Cuphead?" Mugman whispered back to his twin.

"The rings are missing Mugsy!"

"What?!" Mugman looked over at Bubbly and saw the rings were missing. Both boys wondered who could have taken the rings then it dawned on them.

"Chalice!" The two of them whispered in sync.

While the boys were talking about the missing rings most of the wedding was finished,

"Where did the rings go?" The Bishop asked Bubbly.

"they were just here a second ago! I swear!" Bubbly said in a panicked tone.

Gala got down to Bubbly's eye level and put her hand on her shoulder.

"It's ok, it's not your fault." She wiped tears from Bubbly's eyes.

"Uh Miss Gala... I think I know who took the rings..." Mugman said twiddling his thumbs.

"Who do you think it was?" She tilted her head.

"Chalice. I think she took them."

Chalice came into the hall that moment

"Sure right! And I hid em too."

"Why would you do that?!" Mugman was about to strangle the girl.

"Well I want the Bride and the Groom to go find em, it'll help their relationship."

Before Mugman could yell at Chalice Gala interrupted him.

"That sounds like a fun idea! Come on Salvador!" She grabbed Salvador's arm and they hurried outside.

Everyone else followed them, because they wanted to see if the couple would find the rings and get married or if they would fail.

Gala and Salvador finally found the rings as the sun started to set.

They stood on the old outdoor alter and said their vows for the second time, put their rings on.

"You may now kiss the Bride." Announced the Bishop.

Gala and Salvador then kissed, now they were officially married.

After they kissed Salvador picked up his lovely Bride and spun around with her.

They had one more kiss on the alter before the sun completely set.

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@firecurls-27 @zibiscusloon @hey-imma-fangirl @marshmallow-biscuit-blog @cuphead-fans @coffee-cuphead @blackf10wer25 @cephalopvnk @tireddicehead @oye-milka @fanoffandoms23 @generalfoxy21 @scropio09

(hope y'all like it. Also hope I wrote it ok-)