#Because ain’t nobody gonna like you regardless of who you are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ham1lton · 19 days

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my favourite interviewer.

pairings: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister/reader

warnings: jokes about adoption. mentions of bigotry but in reference to o/s’s experiences.

summary: the one where you interview your sister and your boyfriend. also part of the nepo!sister universe.

author’s note: i love nepo!sis/y/n. expect to see her more. also these interviews are quite short so imagine they’re longer and these are snippets. y/n is a better interviewer than i made her out to be 😔💔

liked by vogue, yourusername and 1,827,668 others.

oldersister: check out my photoshoot for vogue! and my following interview with my younger sister yourusername. it was definitely… interesting. link in bio <3.

user1: my favourite sisters made another appearance again!!

yourusername: DON’T! work with o/s! such a DIVA! rude as hell…..

-> oldersister: is this because i said pink wasn’t your colour?

-> yourusername: ALL COLOURS ARE MY COLOUR !! 😡

user2: y/n is so funny throughout this entire interview. a natural comedian.

user5: o/s saying that people don’t take her seriously as a driver is crazy!! she’s a two time champion!! what more does she need to do?

-> user6: it’s nothing that she needs to do. there really isn’t anything she can do to change their minds. it’s bigotry.

user3: o/s is so pretty. full time f1 driver and part-time model.

-> user4: one thing about her, lewis and zhou is that they’re all gonna serve looks and face. holy trinity.

liked by yourusername, gq and 1,223,378 others.

landonorris: thank u gq for letting me cover ur magazine and thank u to my gorgeous interviewer for taking the time out of her day to interview me. btw… are you single 😍

user5: this was so cute!! i love their dynamic.

yourusername: no i’m not single. i have a bf. be professional please.

-> landonorris: ain’t nobody care about him queen. i bet you i could beat his ass 😍

-> user1: i wish i had this confidence.

-> landonorris: leave me alone 😭😭🖕🏼

-> user2: poor lando. getting dragged by his fans, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s fans and his girlfriend’s sister’s fans😭😭 rip bro 💔😔

-> yourusername: he’s fine y’all. please don’t call paw patrol.

user3: lando saying y/n was his favourite person regardless of what she does 🥺🥺

-> user4: when he cussed out y/n for calling herself boring 😭 he said that’s my gf don’t be disrespectful.

user7: y/n finessing a free lunch and dinner out of her boyfriend and her sister was my favourite part. yass queen 😍 take from the rich.

*liked by yourusername*

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MY NIGHT WITH O/S L/N.

by y/n l/n.

It’s the end of O/S’s Vogue’s shoot. She’s dressed in a black form-fitting silk suit with a pair of pale pink heels. I always knew that my sister was famous but seeing her in the middle of such magnitude truly reinforces that she is not just my older sister anymore. She’s bigger than that. We decide to duck behind the busy shoot into a side room to start our interview.

THURSDAY, PARIS, 11:34PM.

Y/N: Did you expect that I’d be the one interviewing you?

O/S L/N: Honestly? No! I’m happy though to see a familiar face. Pleasant surprise.

Y/N: I’m not gonna hold back on the questions though just because you’re my sister. I need you to know that.

O/S: Wouldn’t expect you to.

Y/N: Just for the record, she’s wearing my lipstick. I told her she’d look cute in it and she refused to listen to me.

O/S: I didn’t expect it to look so cute on me. I don’t wear super bright lipsticks, it’s a orangey-red shade for the people who can’t see it. I got the makeup team to source it for me and tried it on and perhaps… you were right. It’s grown on me.

Y/N: I’m always right.

O/S: Always is an understatement but … you have your moments.

Y/N: So, what would you say it’s like being the only female F1 driver?

O/S: A very unique position to be in. I’m lucky to have such a good support system in place. Y’know? Mom, Dad, my team and you.

Y/N: It’s a lot of pressure isn’t it?

O/S: Yes. As any high profile job is.

Y/N: How do you find the pressure when it comes to being a role model for younger girls?

O/S: It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I think it’s so important to encourage young children, especially girls, to follow their dreams and help to provide avenues to make them accessible. I would love to see younger generations of drivers that come from a diverse array of backgrounds be in Formula One.

Y/N: Remember when you were younger and you’d go go-karting?

O/S: Yes.

Y/N: Dad would always make me come and watch you. It was so boring but he’d always get us ice cream afterwards if you’d won. That’s why I always rooted for you.

O/S: Says it all really.

Y/N: I was always a tennis fan. Maybe a little basketball or football. Dad used to joke that maybe you were the adopted one because no one else in the family knew about motorsports before you.

O/S: He still does! I found out about F1 at my school library at the age of like nine and begged Dad to take me. I’m very lucky that not only did we have the funds at the time but parents that supported us. He used to drive me everywhere. He still does drive me to the Grand Prix sometimes.

Y/N: Funny how little traditions stick with us, huh? Remember when you started making real money and would take us out for dinner after every win?

O/S: I was so excited that I had the money to treat you all.

Y/N: Definitely. What was the biggest challenge you’ve faced so far in your career?

O/S: It’ll sound trivial but… probably being taken seriously.

Y/N: What do you mean by that?

O/S: As a lot of women in male-dominated spaces might face, it’s hard to overcome the biases against my abilities. People said for a long time that I was only here because of diversity quotas.

Y/N: Even when you won?

O/S: Especially when I won. I like to prove people wrong. I’ve spent my whole career doing just that. I just wish it wasn’t so constant and tiring. I’m just doing my job but because of my womanhood and my blackness, it is immediately viewed as political. Overcoming the preconceptions has become a huge part of my journey.

Y/N: That’s annoying as fuck. I’ve seen it first hand too. You’re an incredible driver. I know I joke around with you and take the piss out of you but genuinely you do inspire me. I might not be racing cars anytime soon but I’ll always be your biggest fan.

O/S: Thanks Y/N. That means so much to me.

Y/N: Now onto the juicier stories. Who are you dating? For the readers who mightn’t know your personal life, I’ll spell it oit for them.

O/S: Oh No…

Y/N: You started off by dating your childhood sweetheart, Clark Jones, and then dated actor Paul Elordi.

O/S: I did. I am single now, as you’re aware.

Y/N: And she won’t let me set her up with anyone!

O/S: Just because you’re happy in monogamous bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us wanna be.

Y/N: Thanks for letting me interview you today O/S, it was definitely the best part of my day.

O/S: You were very good. I enjoyed the questions. Five stars.

Y/N: Wanna go out to eat? Your treat.

O/S: Of course, let me change into something more comfortable. These heels are gorgeous but they are killing me.

END OF INTERVIEW.

————————————————————————

MY MORNING WITH LANDO NORRIS.

by y/n l/n.

TUESDAY, LONDON, 10:34AM.

I was told to pretend to be professional and that I didn’t spend the night with my boyfriend so I left the room at around 7am just so that I could knock on the door again later in my interviewer mode. It’s the night after his photoshoot for an energy drink. Lando opens the door in a plain black tee, a hoodie wrapped around his waist and tracksuit bottoms. He isn’t wearing shoes. He lets me in and I sit on the sofa. We start the interview.

Y/N: Good Morning. Should we start the interview?

LANDO NORRIS: I’m ready whenever you are.

Y/N: I told O/S this but just because we know each other, don’t expect me to hold back on the questions. Don’t expect any special treatment just because I am your girlfriend.

LANDO: Wouldn’t dream of it.

Y/N: Alright, let’s get started. How did you feel about yesterday’s photoshoot?

LANDO: Tried something new and I think it turned out well. Got some cool shots. The energy was great and the team was incredible. It was a fun shoot. Couldn’t complain.

Y/N: Do you think you’re a better racer or model?

LANDO: I’d like to say model but I’d have to say racer.

Y/N: I think you could be a model.

LANDO: Even though you’re biased. I’ll accept that.

Y/N: Not biased at all actually. I’m here as Interviewer Y/N, not as your girlfriend Y/N.

LANDO: Wait. Can I flirt with Interviewer Y/N?

Y/N: No.

LANDO: Boooo!

Y/N: Let’s switch gears, what do you like to do when you’re unwinding?

LANDO: Well, Usually I’d say spending time with you but you’re not my girlfriend soo… I’m going to say streaming with my friends and playing video games. Also watching my girlfriend’s favourite reality shows.

Y/N: You’re a Teen Mom UK fan? And a Real Housewives fan? I thought you didn’t to like them.

LANDO: It’s part of the boyfriend playbook. Pretend you’re bored with those sorts of shows but secretly, you’re incredibly into it. I have to keep up with your interests somehow and I picked the most interesting ones.

Y/N: I don’t blame you. Alright, one more question before I go back to being boring girlfriend Y/N and I have to give back this super cool voice recorder.

LANDO: Girlfriend Y/N isn’t boring to me. She’s actually my favourite person. Don’t talk shit about my girl.

Y/N: Fine. She’s not boring. She’s just less of a technophile.

LANDO: I’ll accept that.

Y/N: My last question is what’s your favourite thing about driving for Formula One?

LANDO: Besides the thrill of racing? And the part where I’m living my childhood dream? Definitely the fans. Their support and energy help fuel me on the track. Plus, I get to travel the world while doing what I love. I think that’s the ideal world for a lot of people. I’m very lucky.

Y/N: I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for letting me ask you those questions. Now, time for me to go back to the girlfriend version of me.

LANDO: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re always my favourite person regardless of what version you are.

Y/N: Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?

LANDO: Hey! It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.

Y/N: Guess you’re not just a pretty face huh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep our reality television show marathons a secret between me, you and all the millions of GQ magazine readers.

LANDO: You’re an angel. Lunch?

Y/N: Only if you’re paying.

LANDO: Always.

END OF INTERVIEW.

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jalenh1 · 3 months

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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐭? / / 𝘫𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯 & 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘢.

Who: SC & JH ( @brinacarpcnter )

When: December 31st, 2023

Where: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Plot: Sabrina's frustration grows with Jalen, and then the truth comes out.

Triggers: N/A

SABRINA: Sabrina knew he would be upset; and rightfully so. Losing to a 3-12 team was rough, to say the least. But she was starting to become overwhelmed with what to do in these situations. Even when they won, Jalen was still hard on himself. But right now, it was multiplied by ten with them losing. And she really wanted today to be a good day, regardless of the outcome of the game because it was New Year’s Even and she was performing in front of millions for the Rockin’ Eve special in Times Square. And knowing he’d get to be there to see her perform had her incredibly excited all day. But right now? She didn’t even want to be seen in public because of how defeated and frustrated she was. Sabrina was in the middle of packing a small overnight suitcase when she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. She knew it was Jalen, but she decided to ignore him; continuing the process of throwing stuff into her suitcase. Though while she was doing so, a single tear had managed to escape from her eyes, but she quickly wiped it away with a quiet sniffle. “I don’t know how to help you anymore, Jalen,” she said quietly, finally acknowledging his presence.

JALEN: Jalen had full intention to let him enjoy himself after the game, going to New York City to see Sabrina shine. And while nothing in the world would stop him from going, his mood had quickly soured, putting the same manifestation of learning, growing from the loss, into the air at the after game press conference — yet, truth be told, he wasn’t so sure he believed it himself anymore as a leader. He felt the weight on his shoulders as he strolled into the room Sabrina was in, quiet until she spoke up, and then he exhaled a deep sigh as he ran his hands over his head. “It’s not your job to help me,” he said, not wanting a burden on her before her big night. “But you can’t really expect me to walk around and be happy about that, right? It’s not happening. I failed everyone out there.” He inched forward to initially take a seat, but stood there, eventually beginning to pace. “There’s only so many times I can say the same damn shit before people don’t buy it, before this team gives up on me because I can’t execute. I wanna be locked the fuck in.” He could feel himself getting angry now, heated as he felt every emotion of blowing it. “It was supposed to be our year, and to end it like that? At that rate, ain’t nobody gonna fucking help me.”

SABRINA: Sabrina had never stopped what she was doing and turned around so fast before to face Jalen. “What do you mean it’s not my job? I’m literally your girlfriend, Jay. It is my job to help you through whatever feelings and emotions you’re dealing with. But you’re making it fucking impossible to do it at this point because you don’t want to hear what I have to say,” she argued back. “I’ll never expect you to feel any sort of way about anything. I just feel fucking helpless when you’re like this.” The blonde’s voice softened a bit as she eventually made her way over to Jalen, but still kept a good distance from him. “Saying you failed everyone out there and that they’re all going to give up on you is fucking bullshit and you know it. Those guys would go to hell and back for you, just like you’d do the same for them. Don’t even deny it, because you know I’m right,” Sabrina said with a sigh. The absolute last thing she wanted to be doing was fighting with her boyfriend right now when they literally had to be on a plane in a half hour, but she wasn’t going to leave until things were resolved. “Do you remember when I told you that you don’t always have to be Superman? That applies right now. You are still 11-5 and there’s so much to be proud of. No one is going to hate you for having a rough day. And you definitely don’t have to carry the whole franchise on your back, either. That’s why you’re a fucking team, you’re supposed to lean on each other in times like these. But what do I know, right? Since you don’t like to listen to me,” she spat bitterly and turned back around to pick up where she left off on packing her things into her suitcase.

JALEN: Jalen exhaled a deep sigh as Sabrina turned to face him, making points that made complete sense, but nothing he wanted to admit to. He dropped his arms that were crossed at his chest as her voice softened, his line of sight down on her. He listened as she spoke, not wanting to interrupt, despite the numerous messages that contradicted her speech somewhere deep in his mind. Once she turned on her heels after her last sentence, he couldn’t help but feel like the inferior one, that Sabrina was only trying to lift his spirits and he had always been quick to dodge it and remain stuck in his ways. He had never been great at articulating his feelings, and to have someone like Sabrina willingly listen to them? It was something he wasn’t used to, either. “It’s just.. reading all this shit that I’m no good, a fraud, it gets in your damn head.” His words were soft now, finally making it to the bed and sitting at the edge of it as he looked down at the floor, to his hands, rotating the watch on his wrist absentmindedly. “Like, when the people that once believed in me start to feel that way, kinda makes you think.” He said, a shrug of his shoulders, “I know we still have everything in front of us, we’re the same team that started out strong, just hard to bounce back after losses like that. Even harder when I just want to make you proud, too,” he paused, picking his head up to see Sabrina still working on packing up her bag. “You’ve been coming out to all these games, and fuck, I love the game, but when I started loving you even more, times like this have me thinkin' I don’t want you feeling like you wasted your time on me.”

SABRINA: Honestly, at this point, Sabrina had already started tuning out anything else that Jalen was saying. Why bother listening to him when he never listened to her? That was her current logic. Tears unknowingly welled in her eyes again when she was finally finished with packing, but this time, she didn’t bother to wipe them away because she didn’t care that much anymore. Finally, she pulled her suitcase off of the bed and had started to walk out of the bedroom, Jalen still fully talking to her. But Sabrina swore she had never stopped so fast in her tracks when he so casually mentioned that he started loving her. Of all the things she managed to tune out, that wasn’t one of them. He… Loved her? Did she even hear that right? Time felt like it was frozen when she finally turned around to face him slowly, to make sure that she had heard him right. “Wh… What?” She barely squeaked out, her voice small and nearly inaudible. “You… You love me?” Sabrina asked again, once again needing to make sure she heard Jalen right.

JALEN: At this point, Jalen was speaking without much of a filter, something that was unlike him, but it just went to show how he felt around Sabrina. His heart did the talking for him, leaving his girlfriend puzzled as she made her way to the doorway, ready to leave. He looked up just as she had turned around, looking at her in silence before he got back up on his feet and stepped a bit closer to her, still giving her some space if she needed it. “I love you,” was how he answered, hoping to God it was reciprocated, but nevertheless he wasn’t about to back track. Sabrina wanted Jalen to be truthful with her, to listen to her, and he wasn’t going to take the lead by downplaying how he felt towards her. It was the complete truth, whether he meant to out it or not: he was falling in love. He was in love. Despite things starting slow, Jalen found himself falling fast, and now? He couldn’t let Sabrina leave without knowing it. “I didn’t know I was looking for it, but, it found me and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

SABRINA: When Jalen repeated himself to confirm it, it felt like all of the air had been knocked out of Sabrina's lungs. She didn't care how soon it was, she was one-hundred percent in love with him, too. She was just afraid to admit it out loud to herself, much less, to him, because she wasn't sure if he would reciprocate the feelings. But low and behold, he was the first one to say it, washing away all of her fears. Sabrina let him finish, then all but dropped all of her belongings and practically sprinted for him, throwing herself at him without even thinking twice about it. With her arms secured tightly around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, she didn't want to let go. She was afraid that this was just a dream and that she'd be woken up anytime soon. But the tighter she held Jalen, the more she realized it wasn't a dream. That this was reality. "I love you, too, Jay," Sabrina finally returned the sentiment, squeezing him a bit tighter. "I wasn't looking for it, either, but I can't help how I feel about you... You're everything I've ever wanted in a person and that made it way too easy for me to fall in love with you."

JALEN: When Sabrina came up to him and into his arms like she belonged there, he knew instantaneously he had nothing to worry over. He tightened his grip on her, as if she were to let go, even if he knew well enough that it was as if she were molded to him. He swayed a bit back and forth with her in his arms, listening to the soothing sound of her voice, how she spoke about having the same feelings that he spoke from his heart. He didn’t want an argument to bring it out of him, but it came naturally, releasing his feelings to her like it was now or never, no turning back, not even a thought that could have prevented him from speaking the truth. To hear he was everything she ever wanted, and everything she didn’t know she was looking for, he knew he was worrying for nothing. No matter how many wins, and no matter how many losses, he would come home to her. And he loved her. He pulled back just enough to kiss her, an apologetic look in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry if you felt as if I didn’t bother listening to you before,” he said, “I’ll be the first to admit I’m stubborn. But for you, I’d do anything.”

SABRINA: When Jalen pulled back to kiss Sabrina, she instantly melted into him and the words he spoke soon after. It felt like a relief that they were on the same page with something for once, and that he was apologizing not really listening to her. The blonde took his face in her small hands, and one of her thumbs absentmindedly caressed over the noticeable stubble along his jawline. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I just want to be with you right now,” Sabrina said, sealing it with another kiss. And with Jalen in agreement, the couple decided it was to be a conversation for another day. Instead ending the conversation so that they could make love with one another until they eventually had to head out for Sabrina’s New Year’s Eve performance in New York City. She hadn’t expected her day would turn into what it did, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. They loved each other unconditionally and that was all that mattered to either of them now.

#( para ; is it new years yet? )

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hartigays · 3 years

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big brain thot: wheezie being the one to get rafebarry together👀👀

“wheeze, you can’t just show up here like this.”

she hasn’t even gotten off her bicycle yet, helmet still in place and everything. she looks up at rafe with big eyes, rolling them as slowly and dramatically as humanly possible.

“i just did,” wheezie points out, unclipping her helmet and setting it in the front basket of her bike.

rafe eyes her warily, then relaxes a bit. his eyes flicker back towards the trailer. “how’d you even know i’d be here?”

“topper,” she tells him simply, shrugging.

“topper?”

another overly-dramatic eye roll. “yes, topper. he came by looking for sarah and i asked him if he knew where you were. i need help with something.”

“and topper told you i’d be here?” rafe asks, brows raised.

topper is a lot of things, but is he the type of person to send a kid to a coke dealer’s trailer? no, absolutely not.

“i encouraged him,” wheezie replies, a little too vague for rafe’s liking. he narrows his eyes and she sighs. “fine, i kicked him in the crotch until he gave it up. happy?”

rafe snorts at the mental image.

wheezie finally climbs off her bike, standing in front of rafe with her arms crossed. “so, are you going to help me or not?”

he really doesn’t want to say yes. but he’s sort of always had a soft spot for wheezie - she’s one of two people who don’t make him feel completely homicidal.

(the other is sitting back in the trailer, smoking a joint and watching some boxing match on his old as shit tv. the thing has antennas, for fuck’s sake.)

rafe glances back at the trailer again, then turns back to wheezie, scrubbing a hand over his face. “fine. but you can’t come inside, wheeze, i’m serious.”

“why, because of drugs?” wheezie snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “please. i’m pretty sure you smoked weed in my room when i was like, five.”

“that’s not the point,” rafe huffs, his fuse shortening ever-so-slightly. “just tell me what you want.”

for the first time since her arrival, wheezie looks mildly uncomfortable. she bites her lip, looking towards the treeline.

“i want to learn how to fight,” she says, and her voice sounds so small that rafe sort of feels… bad.

which is like a new milestone or whatever, so this is sort of a big moment for him.

“why do you need to learn how to fight?”

wheezie doesn’t say anything for a long stretch. then, her cheeks get red, and the words burst out of her. “i’m getting picked on at school, alright? this girl keeps saying she’s going to beat me up after class and i can only hide from her for so long, you know?”

rafe is mildly taken aback, never figuring wheezie for the type to get bullied. she always seemed self-assured and well adjusted, with a sizable group of friends and an active social life. for a middle schooler, anyway.

“what’s her name?” rafe asks, indignant on his sister’s behalf.

if he had to choose a sister to be the target of bullying, it’d definitely be sarah. wheezie, on the other hand, is just a kid. and if someone is threatening to kick her ass, rafe sure as hell is going to find out who.

“i’m not telling you her name, rafe,” wheezie says. “i don’t want you going and knocking her door down to threaten her or whatever. i want you to teach me how to fight so i can hold my own.”

rafe would probably just kill the kid, not threaten her, whoever she is. but he doesn’t tell this to wheezie, biting his tongue for once.

he rocks back on his heels, then sighs, and beckons for wheezie to follow him into the trailer.

wheezie throws her arms up as if to say fucking finally, following rafe inside.

barry is still smoking on the couch, but when he sees wheezie trailing after rafe, he has the presence of mind to put the joint out with an awkward cough.

“you gonna tell me who your little friend is, country club?”

“i’m his sister, wheezie,” she says before rafe can speak, rolling her shoulders back and holding barry’s gaze steadily.

“wheezie?” barry repeats, then laughs, wagging his finger in her direction. “you funny, kid.”

wheezie gives rafe a look, clearly judging him for his choice of company.

“jury’s still out on you,” wheezie tells barry, eyeing him.

barry actually throws his head back when he laughs this time, and rafe can’t help but eye the line of his throat, his mouth going a little dry.

the worst part is, wheezie notices him staring. she raises a brow at rafe. he just coughs and looks away, regretting every decision he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“look, she wants to learn how to fight,” rafe tells barry. “i figured two heads would be better than one?”

“or you just a pussy and know you can’t beat nobody’s ass, rafe,” barry says, reclining back on the sofa, staring at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

“neither can you,” rafe reminds him.

always reminding him. where rafe has failed, barry has too. rather consistently, as a matter of fact.

“fair ‘nough,” barry says after a stretch, leaning forward again. “two heads, then.”

wheezie coughs, and they both turn to look at her. she gives them a bored look. “are you two done having a moment? or do you still need a minute? because i can step outside if- ”

“shut up, wheeze,” rafe groans, pushing her towards the couch.

they spend the next hour and a half discussing fighting techniques, and the cardinal rules of fighting. the ones rafe and barry abide by, anyway.

there aren’t many. they spend the majority of the time discussing technique.

when wheezie gets sick of listening to them yammer on about the different types of headlocks, she starts to get restless.

“oh my god, i didn’t come for the rules of fight club, alright? will one of you just show me how to punch this bitch in the face?”

both barry and rafe shut up immediately, barry’s mouth dropping open in mild surprise.

rafe just snorts, mumbling fair enough under his breath.

and that’s how rafe ends up watching barry do some sort of shadow boxing with wheezie in the living room. rafe re-lights the joint, watching the scene before him in amusement.

“no, kid, you ain’t gotta do all that fancy shit with your legs,” barry is saying at one point, then demonstrates some sort of kick for her.

rafe forgets sometimes that barry has military training, and despite the fact that he gets his ass beat on a regular basis, he’s a pretty damn good teacher.

the joint is long gone by the time wheezie looks at her watch, cursing.

“shit. rose is gonna kill me,” wheezie mutters, fumbling for her phone.

“just tell her you’re staying at a friend’s,” rafe suggests. “it’s too dark for you to bike back anyway.”

“you could always drive me, you know,” wheezie reminds him. then, her eyes flicker down to what’s left of the joint (basically, the filter) and backtracks. “well, he could.”

she’s pointing at barry, and barry shrugs.

rafe, however, finds himself wanting wheezie to stay. dare he say it, he might’ve actually missed his sister.

he’s pretty sure he’ll regret it later, but regardless he says, “we’ll get you something to eat and you can crash here if you’re too tired to go home after.”

something to eat ends up being freezer-burnt pizza rolls, but wheezie doesn’t complain. she eats her food while scrolling through her phone, glancing up at rafe and barry every now and then.

they’re conversing quietly about a drug deal they have set up later, a big one. rafe doesn’t think wheezie is listening, but he also doesn’t notice the way she keeps glancing up at them, her eyes flickering between them with an unreadable look on her face.

and then, out of nowhere, “are you guys dating?”

rafe looks at her sharply and he sees barry do the same out of the corner of his eye. barry’s mouth had shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together, and rafe can see him rubbing at his jaw.

“what the hell, wheeze?”

wheezie raises her hands in mock-surrender, but still rolls her eyes. “it’s just a question, geez. but thanks for the answer.”

“the fuck is she talkin’ about?” barry asks, his gaze flickering between rafe and wheezie.

“you two,” wheezie explains slowly, looking almost bored. again. rafe is starting to think he’s had a bad influence on her. “you’re dating, right? like that’s why you’re always here, right?”

the latter question is directed towards rafe, and he feels his stupid cheeks betray him, burning red.

“oh, right. you’re men, of course you haven’t talked about it,” wheezie sighs, then stands up and brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts. “well, i conveniently have to use the bathroom, so. use this time wisely, i guess?”

then wheezie disappears from the small kitchen, leaving rafe and barry sitting in thick, palpable silence.

“so… what the fuck just happened?” rafe asks when he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer, pointedly not looking at barry.

when barry shifts in his seat, rafe can feel it, and he realizes all at once just how close they’re sitting.

“she thinks… “ barry trails off, shifting in his seat again.

“that we’re dating,” rafe finishes, swallowing around the golf ball-sized lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat.

rafe can feel barry looking at him. he can feel the heat of his gaze, and wow, wheezie is taking a really long time in the bathroom.

“that what we been doing, country club?” barry asks, and rafe looks over at him so quickly that his neck pops.

rafe searches barry’s face for any trace of humor, but comes up empty.

they’ve been practically living together for months, ever since rafe gave up trying to please ward and joined barry’s little side business. and if he really thinks about it, they have lapsed into something almost nauseatingly domestic.

it’s like. like rafe’s been in this weird, fucked up relationship this whole time, and he’s just now realizing it. and realizing, at the same time, that he doesn’t want it to end now that wheezie has gutted them both and laid everything out in the open, where neither of them can hide.

jesus fucking christ, is he in love with barry? barry the drug dealer?

well, rafe supposes that’s what he would call himself now, too, so. maybe it makes some sort of sense after all.

“i don’t think so, but i think we should now,” rafe finally says. he doesn’t know why he says that last bit, it just sort of slips out before he realizes what he’s saying.

but he doesn’t take it back either.

barry is too quiet next to him. the silence goes on for far too long, and rafe is starting to debate internally whether or not he should dump wheezie’s body in the swamp or somewhere off shore.

finally, barry speaks. “startin’ to think you may be onto somethin’, rafe cameron.”

“so is that a yes?” rafe huffs, already feeling exposed enough as it is. he doesn’t need barry speaking in shades of gray.

suddenly, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, gentler than rafe would’ve anticipated, and then barry is turning rafe’s head and kissing him.

like, really kissing him. rafe feels like he’s being turned inside out, his insides shifting and adjusting, rearranging and adapting to make room for barry.

it’s not a particularly long kiss, but it’s sure as hell the best one rafe has experienced in his life.

“they teach you that in the army?” rafe asks when barry pulls away, aiming for nonchalant but failing due to the heavy rise and fall of his chest. and the fact that he can’t stop staring at barry’s mouth.

barry just smacks the back of rafe’s head, shoving him lightly. “get the fuck out my kitchen, country club.”

rafe is about to respond when the bathroom door opens, and wheezie pokes her head out.

“ugh, thank god you’re finally done. you should invest in a bathroom fan, you know,” wheezie tells barry, “i could literally hear everything.”

she shudders and gags, barry laughs, and rafe vaults himself out the nearest window.

well, he tries to. barry catches him by the waist easily, dragging him back into his seat. wheezie just rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“okay, well, since you’re done being a drama queen, i think i’d like that ride home now.”

#rafebarry #outer banks #fanon rafe and canon rafe my beloveds #thank u for the request!! <3 #my fics #ask #anon

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stuff-from-the-void-matron · 3 years

Text

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (5)

(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)

(got a decent amount of interest on chapter 4 so here’s chapter 5! hope you all enjoy! and remember, chapter 6 depends on how well this chapter does! so remember to comment and reblog! thanks y’all! <3)

————-

You’d rung the bell, the sound alerting the villagers that things were all okay again. Soon they were all outside again and a lot came over to see what was going on. You were standing by two human kids. Villagers were typically pretty neutral to humans, unless they hurt them or broke their stuff. Though they tended to avoid humans (even the small/young ones) because of how dangerous they had the potential to be.

This was sorta reinforced by today’s little drama. But with you there the villagers weren’t worried. They trusted you to keep them safe and protect them and their homes/businesses. Plus a few of them kind of heard you scolding the two human boys and well, villagers are true gossips because word spread through the small population hilariously fast. And yes they may have snickered over the two boys getting lectured like they did. But you’d never know that.

During this Tommy and Tubbo took the time to look around at the village. They noticed there wasn’t a single piece of cobblestone anywhere, much to Tommy’s outrage and Tubbo’s amusement. Tommy made sure to loudly gripe about how the village lost all of it’s ‘cool factor’ because you took the cobblestone away. He even started to say that if cobblestone was like a woman he’d-... but he stopped when he seemed to realize that not only was he standing directly next to an ACTUAL woman but an adult one…

He started sweating nervously and shooting a glare at Tubbo when the brown haired boy snickered at his uncomfortable position, but in the end he sort of mumbled,

“Uh.. you don’t wanna know what I’d… do.. pft.”

Tubbo couldn’t hold it in anymore and broke out into laughter, with Tommy right behind him. While you just shook your head and made a ‘tsk’ing’ noise at the goofy pair. But you didn’t bother to hide your amused smile. Once they’d calmed down you resumed your trek.

As you walked the two boys noted the second thing that stood out to them in the village were all the identical patterned banners that were hung up. The two tone ones with the golden suns on them. Tubbo lightly tugged on your sleeve, causing you to blink and look down at him curiously, and he asked why you hung them up everywhere. Was it to show this was your village or?

“Huh? Oh no, I didn’t hang those up, the villagers did. Though I made the original ones, the ones I hung up on my home. But the villagers liked them so much they made their own,” you explained with a calm smile.

Hearing this made the boys share a confused look before Tommy bluntly said that villagers never made patterned banners, they only hung up the plain ones. He’d never heard of them making banners ever. But you just shrugged and said the day after you’d hung up yours the villagers had all started copying you. You’re not 100% sure why (though you have a suspicion it’s the worship thing… but you didn’t bring that up..), you just assumed it was because they took a liking to them.

“I just wanted some decoration for my house and made the banner to spruce the place up, and it was sweet they liked them so much,” you added with a smile.

Tommy tilted his head before looking around the village and asking which house was yours. He pointed at one that was made of wood, stone, and pink terracotta and asked if that was it because ‘you’re a girl, girls like pink right?’ which just made you laugh and shake your head.

“Some girls like pink, sure. Though I know some boys do as well. But no that’s not my house. Mine is up there on the hill at the other end of the village, see?” You pointed towards your temple home and the two boys followed your gesture and their eyes widened at the sight of the huge white quartz temple.

Almost instantly Tommy started shouting about how that wasn’t a house, it was some kinda mansion or something! You just laughed and asked if he’d even ever seen a mansion before. He paused for a second, mouth open like he was going to say something but nothing came out. But then he caught himself and loudly said he’d seen LOADS of mansions before! So he knew what he was talking about.

You didn’t bother questioning him, you know he didn’t sound too sure, but what harm was there in letting him pretend he knew when he didn’t? Regardless, you and the two boys continued walking through the village, but Tommy and Tubbo (thinking that made you feel crazy still) said they wanted to see your cool house. You raised an eyebrow and asked if ALL they planned to do was look.

“It took exactly two days and two nights to build it, I don’t want two troublemakers wrecking it,” you said with a suspicious tone.

Tommy was first to heave a put upon sigh as he said they weren’t gonna wreck your stuff! But it was Tubbo who cut in and said that no way did you build that huge thing in just a couple days! It would have had to take you a week at best!

You tilted your head and said it didn’t take a ‘couple days’ only, it took two days and two nights straight. But that answer just baffled the two boys more. And Tommy said in a disbelieving voice,

“You built for 48 hours straight?” You nodded and Tommy raised an eyebrow, not seeming to believe you.

“What, did ya just eat along the way?? Fought mobs while building at night??” He asked, sounding amused. And you, entirely without thinking how WEIRD it was going to sound, just replied that you’d sort of forgotten to eat while you were building.

“Yeah I got way too focused on building and after scrapping the first three builds I tried and settled on my temple house I got too into it and forgot to eat or sleep.”

You admitted it with some shame before quickly turning to the two stunned boys and saying they shouldn’t do stuff like that, it was irresponsible and dangerous! Tommy frowned and replied that YOU just admitted to doing those very things! But you countered that you were an adult and allowed to make your own stupid choices, but as kids they should heed smart advice.

“It’s very much a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ type situation,” you said with a wry smile.

The blond was very much going to argue against that but you all finally scaled the path leading up the hill to your temple home and Tubbo saw the chest situated outside your home to the left of the front door. Without thinking he went over and started plundering through the chest, but yelped when you smacked his hand, causing him to pull both hands out of the chest and tuck them close to his stomach.

“Don’t go through my gift chest! The villagers use this to give me thank you gifts!” you scold the brunet boy.

They start bombarding you with questions, like why on earth do the villagers give you gifts? What kind of gifts were they? What’d you do to earn them? Are you blackmailing the villagers? If so, then can you teach them how to do that? You burst out laughing at the way the questions just got more and more absurd.

“No! I do not blackmail anyone! Lord, what is with you two kids? No, I work to protect the village and help the villagers master their crafts. And in return they thank me with gifts they make,” you answered with an amused grin.

But it seemed the blond only focused on one part of your reply, and it was the part where you called him a kid. A split second of dumbfounded stunned silence ensued before he snapped out of it and started raging, much to your and Tubbo’s amusement.

“I ain’t no CHILD! I am a MAN! A tall and powerful man who don’t gotta take crap from nobody! TUBBO STOP LAUGHING! SHE CALLED YOU A CHILD TOO!”

Tubbo didn’t even respond, he was too busy laughing. You were laughing too but managed to calm down enough to say that there was nothing wrong with being a child, it just meant you had more learning to do and experience to gain. Tommy and Tubbo seemed to calm down at hearing this, at least until you reached out and pinches both boys’ cheeks and cooed,

“And besides, you’re both cute widdle babies~!”

Now they were both hollering about ‘not being babies!’ and kicking up a huge fuss, much to your amusement.

-0-

After that you’d gone through the day’s gifts and saw most of them were the usual stuff (but still great). Plenty of bread and fruit, potion stuff, and a fur blanket. You packed away the food in a chest, put up the potion supplies by your brewing station, and threw the nice fur blanket across the end of your bed as decoration. All in all they were lovely gifts.

But one of the gifts really stood out. A red wooden box. And when you opened it you saw it had 6 engraved gold bangles. And they had different engravings. Some were carved to have leafy vines, some had geometric shapes, others had fish scale patterns, and even some with simple swirls and dots. But they all had a hinge to open them and a thin chain to keep them from falling off should they accidentally come open.

You loved all the gifts the villagers got you, how could you not? They were the fruits of their labor and skill! But these bracelets just hit different? You’d always liked gold, it was pretty and just crisp looking. SO without hesitation you’d put the bracelets on, three on each wrist before admiring them in the waning light of the sunset.

You’d even showed the two teen boys after you put them on and they said they looked nice, though you could tell they were only being polite, most likely because they had no interest in jewelry. Though you appreciate them trying to be nice for your sake. But while you were admiring your latest gift Tubbo noticed something simmering in your cauldron by your brewing stand.

He cautiously approached it while you were showing Tommy your enchantment table and library (tommy wanted to enchant his sword). The brown haired boy let the scent from the lightly bubbling cauldron waft across his face and he breathed it in with a pleased sigh. Whatever this was it was clearly food, but damn did it smell like utter heaven! He could see chunks of steak, cuts of potato and carrot, and some other green bits he didn’t recognize. But he did recognize the light golden sheen the stew(?) had. Just like an enchanted golden apple!

All three of you blinked when a sudden growing gurgle sounded through the quartz temple. You and Tommy looked over at Tubbo, whose face was red with embarrassment. He laughed awkwardly and said the food smelled good, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast as his excuse. But you just gave a laugh and went over to the cauldron, scooting him out of the way so you could check on it.

The two watched you stir the concoction with a wooden spoon before tasting some and letting out a pleased hum. Cooking was similar to potion making so you’d started doing both lately to keep yourself busy. You’d started with the recipes you already knew from the game. Mushroom stew, beetroot soup, rabbit stew, bread, etc. But those got boring fast so you decided.. why not try something new? So you’d started just doing whatever sounded like a good idea.

You learned LOTS of new recipes (and made sure to jot them down in a book so you didn’t forget them/what they did) but you also made some truly vile foodstuff. Lots of your failed concoctions ended up in the trash. But this latest one actually tasted darn good to you. After trying it you even noticed it gave you the same effects as the enchanted golden apple. Which was cool since you’d marinated the steak you’d put in the stew in a bowl of enchanted gapple juice.

Behind you you could hear Tubbo bugging Tommy, asking him to give him some food since he ran out and his hunger was low. But Tommy refused, saying he only had one loaf of bread left and Tubbo should have brought more food! You rolled your eyes at the bickering pair of boys before wordlessly grabbing some wooden bowls and scooping some of the enchanted beef stew into them before calling over your shoulder,

“Y’all two want some stew? It turned out really good this time I think.”

Tubbo gave a thankful, “Oh yes, please!” while Tommy gave a childish, “Yeah! Gimme!” that made you want to laugh at their silliness. But instead you just handed over the two bowls of stew. You turned back around to grab yourself one (because you might not NEED food but it still tastes good) and while your back was turned you heard them greedily slurping and munching on the stew. You’d turned back and came face to face with two boys with empty bowls held out to you to show they’d like more. You barked out a laugh and teasingly asked if it was any good.

Tommy didn’t seem to want to wait and shook his bowl and demanded in a snarky tone to “Hurry it up woman!” which.. made you frown. You were giving him a very unamused look, which he seemed to register and realize he may have misstepped here. He sweat anxiously with a nervous smile while Tubbo’s face dropped and he held his own bowl closer to his chest, not liking the tense silence. For some reason having you upset with him made him not feel so good. Like it was a bone deep feeling that left him hugely on edge. Tubbo glanced over at his best friend and knew the same could be said for him, because Tommy looked vaguely ill. But after a harsh elbow jab from the brunet the blond seemed to snap into the present and stuttered,

“I was-uh, y’see I was only.. kidding. Yeah! Kidding! What I really meant was can I please have some more??”

Your frown twitched before turning into a wry smile. You huffed out a chuckle that made both boys' anxieties fade. Their bodies seemed to deflate from how tense they’d been before as you handed over the full bowl in your hand to him and said while you ruffled his hay colored hair,

“Nice save kiddo, because if you’d have been smarting off for real I’d have been pretty irked. Thankfully it was only a joke~”

Tommy gave a relieved chuckle before he shamelessly gobbled down his new bowl of stew, seemingly back to normal now that you didn’t seem upset at him anymore. You mentally shook your head, he was such a kid it was pretty funny. But then you turned your gaze to Tubbo and held your hand out for his bowl, which he happily handed over with a shy ‘thank you!’ that made you smile. Soon they were both digging in all over again. Only this time you joined them, positively delighted with how this new stew had turned out. After eating you’d even offered them some iced tea you’d made. And this had started a whole Thing with the two British boys.

They’d argued that iced tea was an abomination and hot tea was the only right way to do tea. You’d rolled your eyes and asked if they’d ever even TRIED iced tea before. That got Tubbo to sorta stutter before falling silent but Tommy, ever the hard headed one, just plowed on and said he didn’t NEED to try it to know it wasn’t good. You gave him a Look and shook your head before convincing them to just try it and if they didn’t like it then they could dump it out. After some back and forth they caved and tried it, and lo and behold they both enjoyed it. The crisp drink was perfect for warm weather, unlike hot tea. But even after begrudgingly admitting it wasn’t ‘total shit’ Tommy refused to admit he liked it better than ‘proper tea’. You took this all as a win regardless.

-0-

You’d spent the majority of the day with the two young boys, just showing them around and feeding them and goofing off. You’d forgotten how fun it was to interact with people like this. To have actual conversation that wasn’t just ‘hms’ and ‘hngs’ like with the Villagers. You still loved the villagers, they were good folks but you’d missed talking with people normally. Which is why you were understandably bummed out when you saw the sun was getting dangerously close to the horizon. But you knew being out after dark wasn’t wise for regular people. You even brought it up to the two boys, not wanting them to have to face any hostile mobs on their way home. They reassured you they’d be fine, they’ve got good gear and enchanted weapons, but you still worried.

Though instead of letting it get to you and ruining the rest of the evening you instead packed the two boys some food to go. You put the rest of the stew into bowls and served up a couple more glasses of iced tea before gifting them to them, making sure they each got an equal share. Tubbo tried to politely say you didn’t have to give them anything while Tommy just let out a ‘whoop!’ and shoved his share into his inventory with a wide grin. That helped Tubbo accept his too without any more shyness. Soon they were all packed up and ready to go home, wherever that was.

But before they headed off Tubbo asked if they could come back, with Tommy perking up at the question, clearly wanting to know your answer too. With a smile you said of course they could come back to visit you and your village. You’d be delighted to host them again! Even if your first impression of them wasn’t that nice. You chuckled when Tommy had the decency to at least look somewhat sheepish. But your smile wasn’t upset and let them know you were only teasing, and it was water under the bridge.

“I look forward to you two coming back again! Maybe you can help me out around the village and in return I can pay you or maybe make you both more food-”

Tommy and Tubbo cut you off by almost yelling out in unison, “FOOD!” which made you laugh out loud. You held up a hand in mock surrender and agreed to make them more food the next time they stopped by. The pair looked excited and waved before picking the berries from the bushes surrounding your village (so they wouldn’t take damage from the thorns) and hurried through them. You waved goodbye in return then took some bone meal out to help the bushes grow back before heading back home.

You had a great day, and weren’t lying when you said you couldn’t wait for the two to come back.

-0-

Tommy and Tubbo made it back to L’manburg without too much fuss, only having to kill a few zombies and skeletons along the way. Though by the time they got back it was very much after dark and everyone had settled in for the night to avoid the hostile mobs. So the two boys didn’t bother checking in with anyone since it was already late and they were tired from the journey back. But to their surprise Wilbur was waiting up for them in the kitchen, sipping some tea and working on some papers.

“Oi, you two are back late. Run into trouble or somethin’?” Wilbur asked with a wry grin.

And that released the floodgates of the two teen boys unloading everything that’d happened that day. From finding the village to accidentally fighting an iron golem, to meeting YOU! And everything else after. Wilbur listened with wide eyes, surprised to hear them talk about meeting a new person, a stranger outside of a country/city place that they knew of. One that apparently took over a village? Weird.

But L’manburg could always use more allies.

Maybe he should go pay you a visit too.

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

@salinesoot @lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #c!techno #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt x reader #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!wilbur

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dzamie · 3 years

Text

My “dogwhistles and antisemitism” post is making the rounds again, always lovely to see. However, I’ve noticed a certain kind of reply that pops up from time to time on it, and it tends to go either like

Hey, so does this mean I should stop using my “namebirthyear” email, since I was born in 1988?

which is usually genuine, or

Heh, so what, if Nazis decide that “fish” is a dogwhistle, we all have to stop using it? Boy, SJ(e)Ws have gone mad. I’m so edgy.

which is usually not.

Regardless, I should answer the genuine one, at least. See, the thing about dogwhistles is that most of them aren’t, like, an immediate conviction (I say “most” because there’s really no way to innocently use the Fourteen Words). They’re more of a warning sign, that I might want to look a little more carefully at what else they have to say. Nobody’s gonna go “ah-ha! that person has 88 in their username! that means they’re a Nazi!!!!!!” but someone might go “well, they have 88 in their username, they talk about how antifa burned down dozens of cities, they keep using “six gorillion” whenever they need a big number for exaggeration, and they reblog posts that put (((these things))) around the DNC, CIA, WHO, and other large organizations... so I’m pretty sure they’re a Nazi.”

Or, since people are probably more acquainted with anti-black racism, if someone immediately suggests a fried chicken place when a black person asks for food suggestions, they probably just like fried chicken (it’s chicken, and it’s fried. What’s not to like?). If someone thinks that ain’t, finna, the habitual “be,” and other AAVE terms aren’t “correct” English, they’re likely just ignorant on the issue, or a gradeschool English teacher. If someone gets upset when someone interprets canon Hermione Granger as a black girl, they could just be really invested in Emma Watson’s performance as “canon.” But if someone does all three? Might wanna check their closet for a white robe and pointy hood.

And just to be clear, if “fish” becomes a dogwhistle (presumably in a sort of “eating fish = sending death threats to Jews or something” way), people won’t bat an eye if you say you ate fish last night when others are discussing food, but if you often ask people how often they eat fish, you may find your Jewish friends suddenly stop having the time to hang out with you.

Like, if you get hit by a nut while walking through the forest, it’s probably just nothing. If it happens four times in a minute, somebody’s throwing them at you.

#text #long post #politics #judaism #rawrs #racism

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Text

Among Us: Mansion Edition

Aight because I’m feeling stupid--I’m talking absolutely Willy Wonka--in this Chili’s tonight, I think it’s time I inundated you all in random crack ass Among Us Headcanons for the mansion. In no particular order:

-Y’all see this post? This right here is Leo and MC. Don’t even @ me. He’s such a bastard and she glares at him the whole time while he just fucking dies laughing in their room. When Theo finds out? He howls with laughter too, later high fives Leo

-Dazai, Sebas, and Comte are the MOST sus players on earth. Like these mofos will handle accusations so calmly and dismantle them so quickly nobody fucking knows what they're actually doing??? The others always skip until there’s hard evidence, but because of that they will often survive by the time the tasks are done

-Every single time Arthur has even the slightest bit of suspicion directed at him for being the imposter, everyone just immediately votes him off. Half the time he isn’t the imposter, and every single time people can hear Theo cackling from wherever he is

-One of the easiest ways to narrow down Theo as the imposter is to see how long Vincent survives HAHAHA (Vincent takes 13 yrs to do tasks)

-Since Vincent struggles with tasks a lot, Theo will often do buddy system (MC will often tag along too--but Theo will just straight up kill her when he’s imposter and tell Vincent she’s busy with another task LMFAO Vincent always scolds him after)

-Isaac hates being imposter. With every. Fiber. Of. His being. HE HATES IT!!! He vents, they see him immediately, they boot him. FML. Also gives himself away because he will usually kill Dazai and Arthur first, and stutters like a maniac trying to defend himself--has no good alibi in a pinch LMAO

-Isaac groans every single time he gets a task in the electrical room. His palms start sweating because he just knows someone is going to sneak in and snap his neck while frantically trying to connect wires. Arthur most often kills him that way just because he finds it hilarious to hear Isaac curse

-Leo, Arthur, and Shakespeare are the ones most known to sabotage while they’re imposters. Leo just loves being a headache of a person, Arthur finds it most efficient to murder in the course of the chaos (after there’s a kind of false sense of security, he picks them off), while Shakes just love watching everyone scatter desperately like mice.

-Shakespeare is 100% that imposter that like stays beside Vincent the whole time while he’s doing tasks, playing buddy system, and then the second the game is about to end just straight up murders him in cold blood out of nowhere

-Comte will almost always enact petty revenge if someone kills MC early in the game--or at all. Catch this mofo finishing his tasks lightening speed and sitting at the security monitors, slamming the emergency button the second he’s deduced who the culprit is. He’s usually the fastest to figure it out; how quickly he responds is another matter lol

-Jeanne gets caught in milliseconds because he won’t even care about the mechanics of the game, and finds sneaking boring/stupid/too much effort (also just bad with technology, it takes him forever to learn the controls). Will at least attempt to kill in isolation, but otherwise doesn’t much care about being stealthy--and so is often caught fast (always kills Comte first much to the man’s dismay)

-Mozart is...surprisingly good at the game? Not quite as skilled as the trio mentioned earlier, but he’s very good at coming up with air-tight alibis and employs a slow, methodical approach. Will have 5 or 6 of them dead before anyone suspects it’s him, kills randomized targets, and will frequent the security room while people are trying to figure out who it is. Will do buddy system with Jeanne, and will usually find the imposter to avenge his good friendo--otherwise just does tasks and chills if he ain’t imposter

-Leo just plays to have fun! He’s good at it but doesn’t really go hard enough to evade suspicion for very long if he’s imposter, mostly kills people he thinks will be most frustrated with being killed/least suspecting. People are usually yelling at him to complete his tasks bc he often zones out when he becomes a ghost LMFAO

-Leo and Comte sometimes do the buddy system, but honestly? They just devolve into murdering each other so fucking fast it’s pointless AHHAHAHAHHAHAH they’re just constantly squinting at each other; they don’t trust the other as far he can throw him (Idk if y’all have seen any of Vanoss’ streams on yt but I just keep seeing that clip of him in MedBay getting scanned and going “nogla you gonna kill me? just fucking kill me you fucking french bastard” when nogla lingers a little next to him and I start wheezing because all I see is literally Leo and Comte)

-Napoleon rarely gets imposter, so he’s usually spearheading the crewmate effort. Gets his tasks done very quickly (if he doesn’t get murdered; though he often has Isaac for buddy system) and camps outside the security room after making a few rounds. Usually figures out who it is fairly quickly--though his accuracy is spotty

-If Napoleon is imposter he tends to have a hard time killing people, so he’ll literally just pretend to do tasks and vibe until the time runs out. It’s the inactivity and aimlessness that tends to give him away

-MC tries to be stealthy, but she usually times her kills poorly or gets walked in on. Sometimes she manages to conceal the body or her boo looks the other way to let her indulge in the fun, but otherwise she gets found as imposter fast

-There are a few legendary rounds where MC manages to fool most of the house into thinking she’s a crewmate because they’re so busy pointing fingers at each other she just skates by easy, but she always feels horrible after for betraying their trust (the men all silently agree it was uproarious)

-Vincent as imposter is fucking hilarious because he’ll just turn himself in???? Like he won’t even try. Everyone will tell him it’s okay if he gets a little stabby--it’s part of the game--but he just has no heart for it. Theo will often switch devices with him to relieve him of the stress. These rounds are always so chaotic because it usually takes the residents a second to deduce the switcheroo

-You know how I said Shakespeare plays buddy and then kills Vincent in cold blood? The hilarious inversion of this is that Dazai will often try to follow Isaac to protect him but Isaac will run away, so they will often be chasing each other all over the map LMFAOOOO Dazai will do this regardless of whether he is imposter or not, so there’s really no way to tell if he’s just messing with Isaac or has a lurking killer intent

-If Theo is imposter? Pandemonium. He will kill people off one by one in isolation and vent so fast nobody can figure out who did what, always paying close attention to the tasks that need doing so he has a solid alibi. Because Vincent tends to believe him and verifies easily, it can take a little longer for people to figure out it’s Theodorus. Arthur and Dazai tend to be the ones that are the first to suspect it’s him

-Sebastian will often be doing his tasks, just chillin. One can usually see him buddy system with Napo and/or MC. He loves to watch the other men be imposter and notes down their go-to tactics and reactions to killing and being killed in the game; especially if it’s uncharacteristic of them. All well and good right?

-Sebastian as imposter? The funniest shit in the world. He’s similar to Isaac in that he hates it, mutters apologies and grimaces every time he has to kill people (note: he does not include Arthur and Dazai among people, sometimes smiles a little if he takes them out;;;;). Will lie convincingly only because his voice/writing does not waver--his stoicism serves him well. When he has to kill Napoleon, though? Forget it. He apologizes a million times after, but honestly Napo just finds it hilarious--will just be like “well-played, Sebas, as expected of our resourceful butler.” Sebas still. Feels guilty. Like you can literally look at the chat history and see Napo as ghost like “AAHAHAHHA oh he killed my ass, nice” while MC’s like “lolol” and Jeanne like “he got me good too, never saw him coming in nav”

-Person who gets killed the least? Vincent (I mean come on, it’s Vincent.) MC is runner-up. They don’t like killing her, but there are a lot of idiots in the mansion that do it just to get a rise out of her (cough Leonardo/Dazai) or just because she’s an easy target in the moment

-Person who gets killed the most? Usually Arthur, runner-up Isaac (Arthur because everyone seeks to get back at him for his shenanigans irl, Isaac because he tends to get indecisive/nervous)

-Also this happens to Dazai once as imposter (Isaac plans it out of sheer spite) and the entire mansion was wheezing about it for weeks

In-game Colors:

Comte: yellow/white/black (when he’s feeling emo) + little baby accompaniment or party hat Napoleon: black or green, cyan when he’s feeling chaotic + sergeant/army hat Leonardo: brown + toilet paper roll Vincent: yellow + green sprout Theo: dark blue or red (feral energy) + cowboy hat or gladiator helmet Isaac: pink + cherry Arthur: dark blue or lime + backwards cap Dazai: purple or yellow + toilet plunger or bird’s nest Jeanne: always purple + “DUM” sticky note Mozart: cyan + surgical mask Shakes: red or orange + flamingo hat Sebas: always black + either the ninja mask or the chef hat

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apolloloki97 · 3 years

Text

"Solid as Stone" Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

Summary: What if when Monica came back, Ian went to find Mandy that day, but found Mickey. Instead of going right to the store for a hookup, Ian runs away distraught after not finding his best friend. Mickey can't help but follow and comfort the redhead he has clearly fallen for.

Or when Ian is freaking out, Mickey is there to comfort him.

Word Count: 2679

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Stone" by Jaymes Young

Note: This is just a bit of an AU what if kind of thing. I just liked it and I love comforting and soft Mickey and I know that day he could tell that Ian was torn.

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Monica was back and Ian didn’t know how to deal with any of it.

As soon as she rolled back into town, Ian felt as if he was suffocating and he had to get out. He didn’t even care if Terry was home at that moment, he needed to see Mandy.

His thoughts kept flicking to Mickey but he knew that regardless of the kind of situation they were in, Mickey would throttle him before he even considered offering Ian a comforting hand. Mickey had been very clear about the nature of their relationship if you could even call it that. Ian knew that there was more to them just random hookups, but he didn’t have time to unpack any of it at the moment.

Mandy had to be the one and he needed her now.

Ian arrived at the front of the Milkovich house and barrelled up the steps, his breathing still labored. His fist made contact with the wooden door, frantically begging someone to open up. It took a moment before the front door was wrenched open and it wasn’t the Milkovich sibling Ian had wanted to see right then, but one he was always wishing to see no matter what. Mickey, who had a cigarette in his mouth, seemed surprised at Ian’s frantic look. “Gallagher?” he asked.

“Mandy, is she here?” Ian breathed out, trying to see behind Mickey and into the house.

“What?”

“Is Mandy here?” Ian asked again, his breathing still sporadic. “I need to see her.” Mickey frowned as he took in the state of Ian as the younger boy seemed to be running off pure anxiety. Something was definitely wrong with him and it surprised Mickey as he realized he was incredibly concerned about Ian Gallagher. However, after all the time he had spent around the kid, he had come to pick up on all of Ian’s idiosyncrasies.

“She’s not here,” Mickey told him, glancing over his shoulder where Terry was passed out on the couch. “She went away with Iggy for a couple of days.” Ian let out a breath, still very jumpy, as he looked back and forth, trying to figure out what he was going to do. “Gallagher, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he rushed out as he glanced behind him, almost as if he expected Monica to be running after him, but the street remained silent. “I… I gotta go,” he stammered before nodding to himself, turning around, and half-stumbling down the steps. Mickey watched after him for a few seconds, still very confused at Ian’s behaviors. Ian shuffled out into the street and then Mickey nearly jumped out of his skin as a car screeched to a halt right in front of the redhead. Honking blared through the neighborhood as the man behind the wheel cursed at Ian who was raising his hands in apologies.

As soon as Ian was out of the street, the car sped off, leaving Ian to stare at it for only a second before he moved to run down an alley in between the houses, still somewhat out of it. Mickey glanced back inside his house for a second before swearing, “Fucking Gallagher.” Grabbing his coat, he shut the door behind him and took off after the redhead.

It didn’t take long for Mickey to pick up on Ian’s trail as the kid had the loudest footsteps on the Southside. Mickey kept telling himself that the only reason he was doing this was that he wanted to know if Ian was on something and if he could get a hit. However, behind the denial, he knew the truth. He did care about Gallagher and he could tell Ian was going through something.

It was only another block that Mickey finally found him. Ian was on the ground, his back against the wall of the empty alleyway and he was breathing harder than he was when he had shown up on Mickey’s porch. Slowly, Mickey approached him, keeping an eye on the redhead’s hands. He knew Ian well enough to know that the kid could punch just as well as anyone on the Southside and he wasn’t looking forward to being on the other side of one of those freckled fists if he startled him.

“Gallagher?” Mickey tried, but Ian remained frozen, his eyes only on the cold asphalt. “Gallagher,” he tried again, but still, Ian remained oblivious to his presence. With a sigh, Mickey ran a hand through his hair before finally stepping right into the other boy’s view. “Ian?” he asked, softer this time. Ian’s breath stuttered for a second before his eyes flicked to the worried blue ones above him.

“What do you want?” Ian asked and while the words sent a dagger to Mickey’s heart, it was a valid question. Why had he followed him? Ian had no reason to trust that Mickey Milkovich cared for him. Mickey hated that he had led him to believe that he was only using him for sex, but he understood. Mickey was never one for affection, but it wasn’t as if he had any role models to learn from. Colin had tried to somewhat raise his younger siblings, but there was only so much he could do. Mickey was on his own in this department, but he was hoping Ian could be the beginning of his effort to show the compassion he clearly felt.

“What happened?” Mickey asked, finally crouching down to get on Ian’s level. The boy in front of him looked frailer than Mickey had ever seen him. The Gallaghers were known to be tough sons of bitches, but everyone had their breaking point, Mickey supposed.

“My mom,” Ian said. “My mom came home and just fucked it all up.” Mickey nodded, understanding immediately. If you knew about the Gallaghers and especially if you knew about Frank, you knew about Monica. Terry hated the woman and Mickey finally could see why. If the way Ian was acting was evidence of how her kids felt when she came back, she definitely should have stayed gone.

“Hurricane Monica,” Mickey simply said. Ian looked at him in surprise. Mickey sank to the ground next to Ian, their shoulders almost touching. “Fiona’s mentioned her a few times at the Alibi, Frank, too. I think we all get the picture enough to know she ain’t exactly mother of the fucking year.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ian said and Mickey was glad to hear that his breathing was sounding a little better. Ian let his head fall back to rest on the bricks behind him. “She always does this, Mickey,” Ian began and Mickey remained quiet, just letting Ian talk. “She comes into town and makes it seem like she’s going to stay. Debbie and Carl don’t deserve that shit.”

“Neither do you,” Mickey said automatically. Ian’s eyes flickered to Mickey’s who was just staring in front of him, his hands playing with the cigarette he still held.

“She’s my mom,” Ian tried to rationalize.

“So?” Mickey said, finally looking at him again. “Frank is your dad and he’s a piece of shit. Terry is my dad and he’s...he’s… fuck he’s the fucking worse.” Ian could hear the hesitancy in Mickey’s voice. Everyone knew how horrible Terry was, but Ian was starting to think there was more to the racist asshole than nobody else knew. “My father hates me,” Mickey finally continued. “He hates me and he doesn’t even know that…”

“That you hook up with guys?” Ian offered, not wanting to push Mickey by slapping the “gay” label on him. He had learned his lesson with that before.

“He’d kill me if he knew,” Mickey said. “And if I had the chance to get the hell out of dodge to be away from him, I would. I don’t care if they’re our parents, they don’t owe us shit if they’ve never been parents, you know?” Ian was quiet for a minute before he nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know what to do, Mick,” Ian said, casually dropping the nickname he had been trying out for a while. If it was any other time, Mickey would have made a comment about it, but he just enjoyed the rush that went through him at Ian saying his name.

“What do you want to do?” Mickey asked. “Cause that’s all up to you, man.”

“I want her to get the fuck out,” Ian said. “If she’s leaving again, it’s gonna be on our terms this time, not hers.” Ian struggled to keep his hands still and his emotions in check. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of Mickey. This was why he needed Mandy.

However, Mickey Milkovich surprised him as he always did.

Tattooed fingers suddenly covered freckled ones and Ian’s hand was enveloped in a warm and firm grip. Ian looked up at Mickey who was looking at him with actual concern.

“Don’t let her ruin you,” Mickey said firmly.

“She’s already done that,” Ian said, trying not to focus too much on the hand in his.

“Says who, huh?” Mickey countered. “Who says you’re fucking ruined? You’re not. You’re…” Mickey trailed off for a second. His eyes flickered from Ian’s lips and then back to his face. “You’re damn solid, Gallagher. A fucking tower of stone, so don’t think that some woman can just come back and fuck with you just because she’s your blood. Blood don’t mean shit when it comes to family anyways.”

Ian was looking at him with wonder in his eyes. He had never seen this side of Mickey and he was already mourning the fact that he may never again for a while once they left that alley. In case he was right, Ian clutched onto Mickey’s hand tighter, letting him feel the other boy’s pulse beneath his fingers.

“Thanks,” he breathed, almost afraid to speak any louder in case it shattered whatever peace they had built.

“Still wish Mandy was here instead?” Mickey asked and there was no malice behind it.

“Absolutely not,” Ian admitted as he glanced down at Mickey’s mouth. They were silent for a moment before Ian asked about something Mickey had just said. “Would you really leave to get away from Terry?”

“I wouldn’t go far,” Mickey admitted, looking at him through hooded eyes. “I could never go too far from you, could I? Who’d run after you when you’re going out of your fucking mind?” Ian smiled, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t know, I’m sure I could find someone,” he said and then boldly continued, “maybe Kash has a friend around his age.”

That did it.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Mickey growled as he grabbed onto Ian’s neck and slammed his lips against the other boy's mouth. Ian reacted immediately, tugging Mickey closer to him. Mickey’s heart was slamming in his chest and he knew it was risky to kiss Ian out in the open, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He had been wanting to kiss him since the first time he had seen Ian smile. It wasn’t until they had sex for the first time that that need to kiss him had intensified tenfold. Mickey grabbed at Ian’s coat, trying to make the distance between them nonexistent.

When Ian slipped his tongue into Mickey’s mouth, Mickey was done for. He could never go back to just having sex after this. This was...indescribable and he needed it all. Mickey was as inexperienced as it got when it came to kissing men, but Ian seemed to be a master according to Milkovich. Ian ran his hands up Mickey’s arms and then up to his neck where his large hands took hold of Mickey’s face as he continued to devour the other boy’s mouth.

Eventually, they both needed to breathe and Mickey was the first to pull back, though he didn’t go far. “That was…” Ian began, his breathing heavy but this time for a completely different reason.

“Long overdue,” Mickey finished, his breath matching pace with Ian’s. “I didn’t mean to do that like this. You know in a shithole,” he said, gesturing to the disgusting alley.

“Our whole neighborhood is a shithole,” Ian pointed out causing Mickey to smile slightly. Ian couldn’t help himself as he pressed another kiss to Mickey’s lips before leaning back again. “Don’t think I’m not going to take advantage of being allowed to do that now.”

“Who says this ain’t a one-time thing, firecrotch?” Mickey asked, raising one of his very expressive eyebrows.

“Me,” Ian said simply and Mickey rolled his eyes, but didn’t move away from Ian. His expression then turned concerned once again.

“Feeling better?” Mickey asked and Ian nodded.

“Getting there,” Ian admitted, referring back to his Monica meltdown. “You helped quite a bit,” he said cheekily and Mickey just snorted. “Thanks, Mick,” Ian said and Mickey could hear all the sincerity behind his words. Mickey nodded and then sat back beside Ian, their shoulders pressed together as if they were afraid to not be touching each other.

“Don’t think you can’t come to me when you’re in trouble, Gallagher,” Mickey said. “I ain’t gonna fucking turn you away. Not you.” Ian nodded again and then leaned his head on Mickey’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to go home,” Ian admitted. Mickey leaned into Ian and nodded.

“Me either,” said Mickey as he thought about his father back on their worn-out couch.

“Monica has to go,” Ian whispered.

“I could make that happen, you know?” Mickey said casually. “I still have that uncle down at the foundry.” Ian jabbed him in the ribs, but Mickey knew he was smiling.

“No thanks,” Ian said with a sigh. “Murder wouldn’t look good on you.”

“Please,” Mickey scoffed, “everything looks good on me.”

“And off, too,” Ian added and that got Mickey’s attention. Ian was looking up at him and when Mickey met his eyes, he could see just a hint of mischief in his green eyes.

“Are you coming onto me, Gallagher,” Mickey said.

“Always,” Ian said as his hands pushed into Mickey’s dark hair.

“I ain’t havin’ you get on me in some back alley,” Mickey said. “I have standards, asshole.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have keys to the store,” Ian said with a lower voice. Mickey chewed on that thought for a second before jumping to his feet and dragging Ian with him.

“You are a fucking menace,” Mickey whispered to Ian who just beamed at him, and then Ian’s smile turned softer.

“So, I’m solid huh?” Ian asked, looking at Mickey who wasn’t running away for once.

“As stone,” Mickey agreed. “You’re gonna be just fine, Red. Monica issues or not, you,” he said, poking Ian in the chest, “are gonna be fine.” Ian could have cried then, but he settled on grabbing Mickey by his coat and kissing him hard. Mickey kissed him back, still trying to get used to the feel, but he figured he’d get the hang of it soon.

Ian pulled back first this time and smiled at Mickey, grateful that he had been the Milkovich sibling to answer the damn door. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“You already said that,” Mickey reminded him.

“And I’ll keep saying it, dumbass,” Ian teased and then began walking backward, gesturing to Mickey to follow him.

Mickey just smiled and jogged to catch up with Ian. As the two of them headed to the store, Mickey forced himself to watch where he was going because all he could focus on was that Ian was back to being Ian and he, Mickey, had helped bring that smile back. Cautiously, he took Ian’s hand for just a fraction of a second before letting go. It was brief, but Ian knew what it meant. Sure, he was solid, unmoving, but to Mickey, Ian was his rock, the one that kept him grounded when everything else was trying to pull him away and if he’d let him, Mickey also wanted to be that for Ian.

#Ian x Mickey #Ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #shameless #shameless fics #shameless fanfiction #Ian and Mickey fics #Gallavich fanfic

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akillysheel · 2 years

Text

GO HOME. ( 4 - FINALE! )

Summary: This breeds a whole new headache. Warnings: Mentions of child abuse/trafficking, minor character death, nothing in depth. A/N: I’m gonna turn this short story into a comic in the next month or two, so look out for that - and a secret prologue ending - soon!

“Nothin’.”

Cthugha gawks, his arms folding tightly over his chest. “Nothing?”

“Nothin’,” Kuro clarifies with a regretful nod, one leg crossing over his lap as he reclines slightly in his chair. He spent all morning chasing up the meagre descriptions he has of the runaway child, but they’d all led to nowhere. It’s difficult to explain just how much it hurt to hear the head of the missing persons unit tell him that there was nobody who matched his description. The closest he came to a clue was a missing girl from Vide, and a Viddish citizen didn’t fit his MO to begin with. “I followed all the leads I could. Even mentioned the black hands ‘n’ the extreme aversion t’showin’ their face. Not a single hit.”

Cthugha purses his lips, scowls something horrid. “Your police procedures don’t work.”

“How d’y’reckon?” Kuro asks pointedly, leaning forwards in his seat with a tight frown.

“Can you two have yer little spat some other time?” Connor intervenes as he feels Deko shuffle in response to the noise. They’re still snoozing peacefully, their bagged head dipped low beneath his collar. Their soft breaths warm his shoulder. “Arguin’s not gonna help, no?”

“No. But it does make me feel better,” Cthugha quips, much to Sheriff Braav’s chagrin.

“Yer right,” Kuro agrees, pinching the space between his eyes as he wills a forming headache away. There’s no use in trying to reason with Cthugha when he’s this irate. Something must have happened while he was busy looking for Deko’s next of kin, though he hesitates to ask about it. “... I think we’re gonna have to take their bag off.”

The suggestion hangs limply in the air for a moment, and his resignation is plain as day.

“I hate t’ask,” the sheriff starts slowly, reaching into his pocket to put on his gloves. They’re thick and black, and regardless of how often he washes them, they always carry the slightest hint of decay. “But they seem t’have taken a shine t’you; would y’mind keepin’ ‘em still?”

Connor glances at the sleeping child, then back at Kuro. “Sure I can. But what’s the whole bag business about anyway? I thought it was just Cthugha bein’ cruel.”

“Hey! I’m not that terrible!”

“Deko seems t’be extremely shy,” Kuro explains, watching as they shuffle. Stay asleep. It’ll make everythin’ so much easier if y’just stay asleep. “When they first got here, they charged into the precinct like a wild animal, then hid under Cthugha’s desk. They refused to come out until they had somethin’ t’hide ‘emselves with.” He lowers his voice then, as if admitting to a dirty secret. “We ain’t even sure whether they’re a girl or a boy. It’s kinda hard t’narrow the search down when y’don’t even have basic details like that.”

“Hm…”

Subconsciously, Connor shifts the weight in his arms. It may have been a long time since he’d held Mia in the same way, but a father never forgets what it feels like to hold his little girl. Deko feels different– perhaps because they’re not his, perhaps because they’re a boy after all– but he can’t place exactly how. Their weight is present but ethereal all at once, as if he’s cradling a shadow.

Would Mia’s ghost feel the same?

He has to fight to keep the thoughts at bay; has to devote conscious effort to closing the door on such evocative memories. He may have developed some mental fortitude during his time in Merriway Hospital, but he'll never really be over her death. That much goes without saying.

"I can do it," he says firmly, aligning his focus once more. "They seem harmless."

"I dunno, they have one helluva bite on 'em…" Kuro admits as he closes the distance between them. His hands manoeuvre until they're able to ease Deko's head out from under his collar. To his dismay, they stir, a soft crooning noise made low in their throat.

"Hey, sleepyhead…" he coos, trying his best to come off non-threatening. This really is the last thing he wants to do, but it doesn't feel as if he has much choice. "Who's this?"

Deko scuttles over Connor's shoulder, arranging themselves in the opening of his coat. Snug as a bug.

"Maybe they like the dark?" Cthugha offers, glancing over Connor's choice in apparel. He recalls that the first thing Deko had done ( after scaling him with their improbable speed ) was bury their head beneath whatever fabric they could access. The sun seems to cause them some discomfort, even if mild.

"Listen…" How does he even go about doing this? "... we need a little look under yer baggie. Is that okay?"

They immediately rear back and shake their head, though Connor keeps them locked in place with a firm grip around their waist.

"It's alright," he says, attempting to soothe them. "Sheriff Braav is a good man. He won't hurt you."

But they're already wriggling and writhing with such ferocity that both men, grown and built, struggle to maintain their grip. Before he can think about it, Kuro curls his fingers around the edge of the bag and pulls upwards, attempting to make the motion quick and smooth. It comes off with an obnoxious FWOSHHH, though Deko darts beneath Connor’s coat with a sharp, shrill cry, a squirming lump travelling along the length of his body before they spill onto the floor in a heap. Their breathing is erratic, their face buried into the floor.

“It’s okay!” Kuro attempts to reach for them, but they kick off of their hands and knees and break into a frenzied run.

“They’re gonna hurt themselves!” Connor exclaims as they narrowly miss the blunt corner of Kuro’s desk.

Just before they can crash into the wall, Cthugha appears in front of them and cushions them– somewhat. They wind up sprawled on the floor, and he gains a firm grip in the scruff of their cape, hoisting them up with a squint.

“Alright, blondie. Enough fuss.”

“Wait. Hold on.” Kuro waves a hand, and the chaos seems to dissipate all at once. Cthugha looks at him curiously. Deko continues to shield their face with their arms, completely at the rifter’s mercy as he holds them aloft. “Wha’d’y’mean blondie?”

Cthugha frowns deeply, as if he’s been asked a ridiculous question. “Obviously that they’re blonde?”

“... they’ve got brown hair,” the sheriff states slowly, his brow furrowed.

Cthugha looks at them, then back at him. He repeats this several times before blurting out: “Are you BLIND? I know your years are stacking up, cowboy, but come on!”

Connor huffs, shakes his head. “Are you two screwin’ around fer fun? It’s black.”

The disagreement hovers in the air between them, all but palpable as each man begrudgingly lays down his sword. It’s one thing for two of them to clash, but for all three of them to have conflicting ideas about the colour of the child’s hair? It doesn’t seem plausible. Something greater is at play here.

“... somethin’s wrong,” Kuro says quietly, turning to look at Cthugha. “There’s somethin’ weird about ‘em.”

Cthugha scoffs. “You’re scared of children now? First it was trees, now it’s kids–”

“Shut up!” There’s more bite in the phrase than either of them are used to, and Cthugha is torn between shrinking down and puffing up with indignation. In silence, he lowers Deko to the ground and watches them wobble into a corner, facing it like the world’s most shameful dunce. “I’m tellin’ y’,” he utters, powerless to keep the pain in his head from spreading further. It was a dull throb between his eyes at first. Now it’s an inferno. It’s consuming the forefront of his mind like it’s made of firewood. “Somethin’s not right. They’re… they said they’re from the dark. They hide from the light. I ain’t have nightmares; the one time they stay in my house? A terror like y’wouldn’t believe. ‘n’ I saw them–”

“We’ve been over this,” Cthugha interrupts carefully, his hands on his hips. “Ya must have dreamed it.”

“They were in my room.”

“They didn’t leave the living room! They were there when ya came in, you saw that.” It’s Cthugha’s turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. If it isn’t already evident to those that surround him, he’s terrible at keeping his temper in check. Only when he’s certain that his voice won’t raise: “It was a dream, Kuro. It wasn’t real.”

They’re at an impasse, and it shows. Kuro is so sure, but so is Cthugha, and tension fills the space between them as they stare at one another.

Connor suddenly clears his throat, redirecting attention to himself.

“If I may,” he starts, and only then do they realise he’s holding something. It’s brown and neatly folded, and as he approaches Deko and slides it over their head, it becomes obvious that it’s another bag. Brown, this time; cartoonishly nondescript. “It seems neither of y’have answers. Y’can’t agree.”

“Because it’s dumb,” Cthugha retorts, annoyed.

“Won’t y’concede that Sheriff Braav knows what he saw? He’s got a keen eye. Has to as a detective.”

Cthugha falls silent, his foot beginning to tap.

“And Kuro– can’t y’trust that Cthugha did what y’asked ‘n’ kept his eye on ‘em? He’s proven himself reliable, no?”

The sheriff hums low in his throat, glancing away from the object of his frustration. “... then wha’d’y’propose? We can’t both be right.”

“Course y’can. In part,” Connor replies, his hand settling on Deko’s shoulder as he spins them around to face them both. “Or y’can both be wrong.”

“In part?”

“Just wrong.”

They watch with a muted sense of fascination as Deko shuffles behind his legs, peeking out at them as if they’re suddenly the ones that scare them. Guilt washes over the pair in waves, and they both look away, one scratching at his jaw while the other scuffs the floor with his boot.

“... I’m at a loss as t’what t’do with the kid,” Kuro confesses, his voice a sheepish and culpable hybrid. “I was just tryna help, but I guess I got it wrong. I’m sorry.”

Cthugha scratches his neck, teeters between saying something and saying nothing at all. “... maybe I was… a little too harsh.” Apologising is a monumental task to somebody who’s seldom had to do it before. He may have been in Huron for close to a year at this point, but his reclusive habits still linger. If ever he doesn’t have to speak to people, he won’t. It saves him a lot of commiseration. “Maybe you’re onto something. Things aren’t exactly adding up.”

“Either way…” The sheriff pauses to heave out a sigh before moving to his desk, reluctantly retrieving a file from the draw. “I s’ppose our only option now is t’contact an orphanage over in Vide.”

Connor straightens up, then shakes his head furiously. “Whoa– no. Don’t do that.”

“What else can I do? I can’t leave a child without a roof over their head.”

“Just— let me do it!”

Kuro falls still, then turns to face him with a furrowed brow. “I can’t ask y’to do that. Y’must know that.”

“Yer not askin’. I’m volunteering.”

“This ain’t a community project, Mr. Vanton, this is a person. It’s different.”

Connor circles the desk quickly, leaving Deko behind. His hands meet the surface, his face pleading. “Don’t y’think I know that? That’s exactly why I’m askin’.”

He’s never been to Vide - not for leisure, anyway - but he recalls the things his daughter told him about the state of affairs over there. The overt poverty; the ruthless unrest; the messy streets and the disadvantaged youths. It was precisely why she’d wanted a career in working with children, and exactly the reason that Dawson had been perfect for her, too.

I want t’teach kids that’re strugglin’, daddy. There’re so many in Vide. Can’t y’work closer t’home? I’ll miss y’too much. They need me more than the kids here do. I’ll visit often, I promise.

“Y’don’t know what yer doin’. Kids in there, they don’t leave.”

“How d’y’know that? Are y’an expert on Viddish systems all of a sudden?”

“Mia told him,” Cthugha says, and the penny drops with such a sickening clink that Kuro feels nauseating guilt for the second time that day. “Right? Mia wanted to be a teacher, she was studying in Vide.”

“Yeah. How did you… y’know what, nevermind.” He knows better than to question Cthugha at this point. He has no idea how his time travel powers work– and has barely come to accept that they even exist in the real world in the first place– but he’s willing to guess that they have something to do with his uncanny knowledge. “Yer gonna send them away anyway, aren’t you? What’s the harm in me takin’ ‘em under my wing fer the meantime?”

“Is that really the best thing fer you?”

He hates to ask, but he has to. It would be negligible if he didn’t. Connor had barely left a mental institution but three months ago. Is putting a child in his life– a child that he could grow attached to and then subsequently have to let go– really something that should be entertained?

“Look, I know this isn’t permanent. ‘n’ I’m not– I’m not tryin’ t’fill Mia’s void. Nothing can do that. She’s gone. I know that. I’ve made peace with it.” His words shake almost as much as his arms do. Admitting such a thing takes such herculean effort that he feels dizzy in its wake. “But this is what she’d want, to help a kid who has nothin’. That’s what she’d do. That’s what she’d want us all t’do.”

“What about what you want?”

Both men turn to look at the rifter. He looks milder than before, his disposition cool and calm.

“I just… want t’help. That’s it. I want t’be useful again. I’ve spent so long just… rotting. I’m finally well enough t’do things again and I want t’do them. I can be of use to you, finally. I know I can.”

Kuro sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair. His pen goes takka-takka-tak as he fiddles with it, the gears in his brain turning rampantly. There are several reasons as to why this is a bad idea, one that he should promptly shut the door on, the first of them being the ever-important detail that Connor is barely back on his feet after twenty years of unhealthy grieving.

But there are also several factors that make it the best option he has.

He already knows that the paperwork to set up such an arrangement would be horrendous, and that the process wouldn’t be immediate. Connor also has ample experience with raising a child. He did so on his own, without the presence of his wife to anchor him, and the reason that Mia is no longer with them has nothing to do with the quality of his parenting. She’d been a gentle, sweet girl, whose only goal in life seemed to be making their districts all the more peaceful. A girl with good values, with high morale and a positive attitude, and whose loss is felt by some to this day.

“I say let him,” Cthugha says belatedly, looking quelled.

“Why d’y’say that?”

“Because.” He looks at Connor, and he feels as if he’s being read like a book. “He needs some purpose. People are miserable without that.” His gaze shifts to the sheriff, locks on unabashedly. “You know all about that.”

Kuro flinches slightly, unprepared for such a statement. “What does–”

“You’re going to send the kid away anyway, aren’t ya? What’s the harm in Connor watching over them while we figure out where they actually belong?”

Kuro watches feebly as Deko sidles over, tottering until they’re beneath the flaps of Mr. Vanton’s coat. They take shelter there much like a bird does, nuzzling their face into the denim of his pants like baby birds do their mother’s breast.

“We’ll figure it out,” Cthugha assures with a sober nod. He’s already convinced that he can crack the mystery, even if they’ve had very little luck so far. “Connor can be instrumental to us. He can earn their trust. They might want to tell him something useful of their own volition.”

“We’re gonna leave it in a child’s hands?” Kuro quizzes uncertainly.

“Think of it this way, big guy,” Cthugha starts with a shrug. “Wherever they came from, it couldn’t hold them. Ya really think an orphanage in a negligent district is gonna be the secure safe haven ya think it is? No way. You mark my words, they’re gonna be back out there before ya know it, and then you’ll have a bigger problem on your hands.”

He thinks about that– really thinks about it, until the sense in Cthugha’s words begins to seep into his own brain. He doesn’t know what constitutes as “the dark”, but he’s certain that with enough investigation, he’ll find out - and when he does, he has the sneaking suspicion that he’ll be surprised that they escaped at all.

His heart beats dully in his temples, the beginnings of a migraine forming. This is so far from protocol that he should be disgusted by the notion of going through with it, but all he can think about is this young child stumbling blindly through districts they don’t know. They’re incredibly lucky that the people they found were them and not more unsavoury characters. Only Raku knows what might have become of them if they’d run east and wound up on Vide’s doorstep.

Traffickin’s rife there, I hear.

“... okay,” he murmurs, rubbing his forehead gently. “Yer right. Yer right. There’s no use shruggin’ ‘em off t’a place like Vide. They’ll be screwed no matter what. We’re outta options that don’t damn ‘em.” The report he was on the cusp of filling out is tucked back into its appropriate draw, and he’s slightly ashamed to admit that he does so with some relief. Vide may be improving, but not at a rate that he’s happy with; not at a pace that makes him think it can safely accommodate a baby. “But this is temporary. Just until we find the information we’re lookin’ fer.”

“Thank you.” It’s almost wheezed, Connor’s head bowing as if he’s been granted a million quers and not the burden of a dependent five year old. “I understand. I swear I’ll do it right. ‘n’ anythin’ relevant t’yer investigation, I’ll give it t’you.”

Kuro groans softly as he massages his temples.

With this glaring breach of protocol, he now has a whole new headache to worry about.

#writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #short story #fandomless oc writing #original story #drabble #novel #novel draft #cthugha ;#kuro ;#connor ;#go home ;

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flamediel · 3 years

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Wether u like it or not, u do not own the dread locks. You are not anymore black than Richard is, and if he decided that he wants to share a piece of his culture with his gf IT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. They are a couple and couples share their culture. Also, u must have zero empathy being this pressed over one goddamn lock of hers, not even an entire head.

Ain't nobody denying that POC are being discriminated against. Heck, I would know myself a lil sth about that. What does she has to do with it?? Until u see her personally shaming a POC for having dreadlocks you have no right to bully her for participating in her loved one's culture.

And all the talk about "Yeah I feel like HE can wear it-" oh hell nah, do u srsly think he's waiting for ur approval?! He, who is of colour himself and has even activly participated in pro-black activism. Are u listening to yoself? gurl- u too young for this ... grow a sense of humanity first

ok, hello. I've let this sit for a while, but there's a lot that needs to be said about it, so I'm gonna say it. First of all, @cncolover27, when someone tells non-black people not to reply/comment on an issue that is being brought up on their blog, you listen. secondly, when you get so out of line that you personally get blocked for your behavior, you don't go on anon to write out hate mail. you shut up and listen to all the BLACK PEOPLE correcting you.

being "of color" does not give you a voice in black issues. you do NOT understand the struggle black people face, because frankly, the treatment we have received not just in the hands of white people but of every other race is abhorrent. I do not care where you are from, or what you have experienced. In the same way I will shut up and listen about the issues of Asian, Jewish, Native American, etc. communities, I expect yall to shut up and listen to black people. Now, I am going to address some of the points you made here. not because I think you by any means deserve a response, but because I know that responding to these points may help educate you and others.

"if he decided that he wants to share a piece of his culture with his gf IT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. They are a couple and couples share their culture."

A non-black person wearing dreads IS my business. white (and white-passing, seeing as you continue to insist Dougs isn't white) people have a long history of appropriating hair, and while you may think Dougs isn't a part of that, she is, regardless of intention. Cultural appropriation is about the power dynamic. When people with power and privilege decide to 'validate' cultural elements that oppressed people have long been marginalized for by playing it off as a 'trendy' and 'cute' new thing, they effectively remove the cultural context from that element and trivialize its meaning. as I've previously explained, hair discrimination has long been used as a tool by non-black people to directly oppress us. you can do five minutes of googling and you will learn all about that. When Dougs, being nonblack, wears dreads, she contributes to the trivialization of black culture and hair. it's perfectly acceptable for people to be insulted by this, even if it's "just" one lock. someone speaking out about this does not mean that they have low empathy. if anything, your refusal to consider the views and feelings of black people in this conversation (not just in your opinion but in your insistence in forcing it on me when I have repeatedly enforced a boundary) says more about your empathy than mine.

"What does she has to do with [people shaming black people for wearing dreads]?? "

what doesn't she have to do with it? as a privileged person in America, she's in a position to advicate against racism and discrimination. I haven't seen her support the CROWN Act or speak out against laws making dreads a fireable offense. Hell, there is not a single post on her Instagram in support of black lives matter. She is not wearing dreads to support and appreciate the culture, she is doing it as a 'fun fashion trend' she's gonna take off the minute it becomes inconvenient for her.

If she truly wanted to appreciate black culture and hair, or "participate in her loved one's culture" she could maybe learn to take care of his hair. That's not only much more intimate, it's appreciative instead of appropriative. She would also do the bare minimum to advocate for black people. But instead of doing any of that, she chooses to appropriate a hairstyle she has no business wearing, that will literally make her hair mold and fall off, and for what? a chic summer trend? sorry, that's unacceptable.

"And all the talk about "Yeah I feel like HE can wear it-" oh hell nah, do u srsly think he's waiting for ur approval?! He, who is of colour himself and has even activly participated in pro-black activism."

Let's get something straight. Richard cannot wear dreads because he is "of color". he can wear them because he is BLACK. yes, there's a difference. and again, you are inserting yourself into an intercommunal conversation. No one was saying he "couldn't" wear it. people were saying it made them uncomfortable. and seeing as hair is a touchy subject in the black community, and we are not a monolith, there is an important conversation to be had about that within the black community. as someone who isn't a part of that community, you have no right to weigh in on it. it's frankly none of your business how we address our feelings towards our hair, especially after centuries of non-black people policing it and harassing us for it.

I also want to point out something ironic (but not surprising) in your messages. for a non-black person, who has clearly shown their antiblackness, you are also using a LOT of AAVE. maybe the reason you want us to leave Dougs alone is that you are just as guilty of cultural appropriation, and you feel threatened. Maybe you need to sit down and consider why you have such strong feelings about the black community speaking out about an issue that affects them. You're incredibly out of line, and I think some self-reflection would do you good.

Of course, you could not resist ending your message with another baseless insult. you say I am too young to be speaking on this and need to learn some humanity. As someone who knows literally nothing about me and my "humanity", I beg to disagree. the only thing here that's inhuman is that you, a 20-something, feel the need to go SO HARD for a white girl you don't even know who is being criticized by the black community for a hairstyle that has LONG been considered appropriative on white people. We are not bullying Dougs. we are not in her Instagram DMs or comments screaming at her. we are having a conversation, in our small corner of the internet, about something that bothered us. if this affects you so deeply, I suggest you leave.

#asks #cnco #richard camacho #antiblack racism tw #honestly at this point if you follow cncolover or allow them to follow you/don't have them blocked #just don't interact with my posts #they don't need to be seeing my content please and thank you

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tiredcowpoke · 3 years

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TITLE: Blank Spots [20] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping. NOTE: Chapter 20, damn. lol I’m not feeling 100% about this chapter but I wanted to get something out this weekend. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

You knew there was some conflict in you about how everything turned out, the hurt Arthur caused still lingering somewhat but you knew you had to take that as it were.

Yet, you felt good. It felt good to finally cross that point with him--again. Perhaps things weren’t the same as they were in your memory, how sure you were in your relationship with him. However, things weren’t the same since Blackwater. You knew that even when your memory had been worse than it was currently, struggling to remember names and faces, let alone whole relationships. A part of you felt like you may never fully remember your relationship with Arthur, but you felt like you had finally taken a step in the right direction with your relationship with him currently.

Admittedly, it had been a little difficult to leave the small privacy of that beach where you had kissed him a couple days ago. To return to camp, to the dilemmas and course of normalcy you had found within. As normal as a group of outlaws could get, at least. For a while, you weren’t sure how Arthur wanted to approach this development, if it was worth telling people. You had realized that it would just be announcing what they already knew, but...well, maybe you were just overthinking that.

Really, it seemed like Arthur just took it in stride. Too exhausted to make a thing out of it, or if there was a point to doing so. A part of you was relieved.

Still, you did catch a couple eyes at the added bounce to your step, and the lingering touches when Arthur would seek you out as he was starting to move about on his own a little more frequently. He seemed to avoid outright public affection, something you had caught onto pretty quickly, but the two of you weren’t exactly hiding it. Still, nobody really felt the need to comment on it much outside of the odd question, which you found yourself not really minding.

It felt like you were allowed to let it go where it may without getting caught up in old expectations. Though, you weren’t too sure on where Arthur’s head was at, but he didn’t seem overly disappointed over that. You’d just have to trust him to tell you if he had an issue with anything.

Despite everything that happened to him, Arthur eventually seemed to return to his normal self after a while. A little thicker in beard and with a stiffer shoulder, but otherwise he seemed to have gathered himself back up after the whole ordeal with the O’Driscolls. You were greatly relieved at that, as much as you knew he would have to get back to gang business and what that entailed.

So, you weren’t too surprised to find him approach you one late afternoon with news that he had business in town with Bill and some other gang members.

“You sure you got the strength for whatever that will be?” you asked, Arthur rolling his previously injured shoulder somewhat.

“‘Bout as much as I’ll need,” he replied, “Can’t stay here forever, I gotta get back to what needs doin’.”

“I know,” you replied, giving him a small smile, “I just don’t want you hurting yourself again. I don’t think anybody can take you stuck in bed for another couple weeks.”

“Myself included,” he returned with a small huff.

As much as you had tried to cover it with a touch of humor, you really did worry he might injure himself again by getting back out there so soon. At all, really. You knew what type of life he led, what they all led, and the chance of a bullet to the skull was always high. You could remember the way Arthur had fallen off his horse that night, how he barely was able to move his legs to get to his cot. You had struggled with the feeling at the time, but you knew that regardless of how everything had developed after, you didn’t want to see him like that again.

Yet...well, there was always a chance that you just might.

“You’ll be safe?” you asked after a moment, glancing at him. Arthur shifted, glancing down for a moment before meeting your gaze.

“Hate to be the one to say it, but I ain’t afforded that luxury. Not with this life.”

He did have a point, as much as you didn’t like that answer.

“Hey, I’m gonna be fine,” Arthur said after a moment, “Bill’s probably just got some lead, nothin’ too complicated.”

“Because everything lately has been so easy…” you muttered, stepping into his side as Arthur reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulder, a small grin touching your face when you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

“Alright,” you replied with a nod, letting out a small sigh as you wrapped an arm around his back somewhat, “You know what you’re doing. Just be careful--for my sake, if anything.”

“I’ll try,” he replied, squeezing you to his side a little before releasing the embrace. You turned to face him once he had done so, watching as he seemed to glance off toward the horses for a moment before turning back toward you.

“Been thinkin’ we should head out to get the last of that treasure map,” he said after a moment, pulling a small grin from you, “Get outta here for a bit.”

“I’d like that,” you said with a nod, “Let all this play out first, though.”

“Yeah…” he replied, giving you a small grin of his own as you squeezed his arm somewhat before he turned to head out toward the horses.

You were worried, but you couldn’t fight the inevitable with Arthur turning his attention back to the gang. Perhaps it was a touch selfish, but you also knew everything that had happened had shaken you up some. Still, you were going to have to let that go. Some of it. You knew you had questions and a distrust of Micah that stemmed from what he did to you on that mountain and now what happened with Arthur.

That was a touch subject to approach, yet one you knew you would have to mention to Arthur eventually. It was just...hard to talk about. There was Micah himself, but even the memory of it filled you with such dread and fear.

Still, it couldn’t continue to go unsaid.

“Glad to see that fight you two was havin’ is cleared up,” a familiar voice from behind you said, turning to glance over your shoulder to see Abigail standing there.

She stood there with a cup of coffee, giving you a small smile as you let out a small huff.

“Yeah, and then some,” you replied as she walked up to stand beside you as she finished off her beverage.

“If only I could get John to see some damn sense. Ain’t from lack of tryin’,” she said around a sigh, you giving her a small nod.

It wasn’t the same screaming matches you heard from Dutch and Molly, and lord had those only gotten worse, but you knew Abigail and John had their moments in camp. Really, when you saw Abigail storming out from that tent they shared, you knew to give her some space. Still, you weren’t witness to the specifics of their relationship--well, if you had, it didn’t matter with your memory now.

“Grimshaw’s sayin’ Pearson needs a hand with dinner,” Abigail said after a moment, “Figure two hands might get us eatin’ all the quicker.”

Honestly, that didn’t sound too bad. You would need the distraction. You followed her out toward the food wagon once she had gotten her fill of the moment she had walked in on between you and Arthur. Still, even with the chopping of the vegetables and meat, you still couldn’t really shake this feeling that lingered at your back. You just...well, you were worried. That was what it was, and you were sure you would end up feeling foolish for it when they all returned back to camp.

Thankfully, your partial absentmindedness didn’t cost you a finger or injury. Though, you were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Abigail touch your shoulder, a look of mild irritation crossing her expression.

“Think I can wrap up the rest,” she said, “Think you can Jack for me? I think he’s playin’ in the woods near the edge of the river. Maybe the boy’ll listen to you quicker while I finish here.”

You let out a soft chuckle, passing her the last of the food you had to chop up. “We’ll see, but sure.”

Rinsing your hands in one of the washbasins nearby, you headed out toward the mouth of the river near the path leading out of camp. You didn’t see any sign of him from where you stood--he wasn’t tossing rocks into the water or drawing in the dirt with a stick like he usually was. You could feel a small twist to your gut, hoping that he was just in the tree line and you wouldn’t have to wander off to find him.

You dropped down onto the bank, following it along until you were able to step up and into the trees. You paused for a moment, listening for anything before walking further in.

“Jack?” you called out, pausing in your walk, “Your mama’s looking for you!”

Silence. More twisting in your gut. You really hoped he was just playing a game not wandered off or…

You moved with more purpose into the trees, calling his name once more before you heard some movement nearby. However, as you did so, you heard a muffled cry that sounded from very close nearby. Yet, as you turned to look in that direction, something very solid and hard jabbed into the centre of your back. The pain radiated up your spine, settling hard in your kidneys as you felt your knees hit the ground.

“Stay down!” an unknown voice hissed, your eyes lifting as someone stepped out from around a tree. He had his hand pressed against Jack’s mouth as he squirmed in his grasp. Instantly, you tried to stand up but you felt a hard kick to your side in retaliation.

“I said ‘stay down!’” the voice behind you said, hissing the words between his teeth before the man holding Jack spoke up.

“The hell’re you doin’?” he demanded, “We was just to get the kid.”

“What? Have her run back into that camp and tell everybody what happened? We’ll have them all on us ‘fore we can even get anythin’ outta this.”

What?

“We ain’t got time for this,” the man in front of you replied, “Take ‘em both.”

You heard Jack let out a cry behind the hand over his mouth, however you didn’t really get the chance to fully process what was happening before you felt a solid hit to the back of your head. Instantly, you heard ringing in your ears, before another hit sent you into darkness.

***

Your head was pounding, feeling the sway of a horse under you as you could feel the strain of your arms tucked behind your back. Blinking open your eyes, you saw the ground under you moving with the quick strides of the horse you were currently slung over the back of. You took in the breath before the events from before flooded into your head, causing you to jerk your head up. You could see passing trees as you were rode down some large pathway, seeing another rider ahead with an arm wrapped around Jack.

Twisting, you tried to see if you could roll off the horse but the tug at your shoulder told you that you were secured to the back of the saddle. Shit, no.

You thought about yelling, screaming, trying to see if anybody would catch on but with how fast they were riding up the path and how empty the area seemed to be, you knew it would only just make things worse.

It wasn’t long before you caught sight of the large structure at the end of the path--a plantation house. You squirmed as they stopped outside the steps, hearing Jack let out a yell as he was pulled from the horse in front of you. The rider of the one you were on the back off slipped off his saddle as the doors to the house opened, your world swaying somewhat as you were pulled to the ground.

You grunted as your face hit the gravel, likely leaving a couple cuts as you grit your teeth against the sharp and familiar headache.

“I told you to only get the boy,” a woman’s voice said from the stairs above you.

“She walked in on us,” you heard the man holding Jack say as you felt a pair of hands grip at your arms, hauling you to your feet. “Guess we’ll have to see what we can do with this one.”

“Damn useless,” the woman replied, your gaze lifting to see her beckon your captors inside. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you were shoved forward, catching the steps before being dragged up them and into the house.

You could hear Jack crying, a part of you wanting nothing more than to comfort the kid but you knew it would be only so fleeting if you didn’t get out of here.

“Bronte’s men are coming within the hour to pick up the boy,” she continued, “I don’t see why they would take her too, but I’ll have to figure something out. Separate them.”

“What the hell does that mean? Who is that?” you demanded, despite yourself, “H-He’s just a little boy! Please!”

“Shut her up,” the woman demanded, sounding much like she was done with the situation as Jack called your name.

“It’s going to be okay, Jack!” you called out as he was carried away from you toward another room. You heard a chuckle behind you, a tug on your arm turning you roughly toward the stairs leading to the upper floors.

“Sure is,” your captor stated, “Boy’s goin’ to Saint Denis, but you? We’ll get you sorted out.”

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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good-forthe-weekend · 3 years

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What in the genuine fuck?

Rant incoming. Be warned. (I use ‘you’ to refer to the people who did the shit, not everyone in this fandom)

Apparently an actress who followed SJM was bullied off of twitter bc ‘fans’ (and yes, my use of quotations there is purposeful) think she’s too fat to play Feyre.

First of all, I’ll reiterate... What in the actual genuine fuck????? Not even touching on the absurdity of the assumptions going on in the mental leaping needed to think she’s been cast in a show that’s not even been written.... Since when are we still body shaming actors???? Shit like this is why no adaptation ever gets good actors. Ain’t nobody want to work on a project that’s gonna get them that level of pure vitriol from people who claim to be fans!! Also, answer me this: Why do you care? Feyre is a self insert character that is purposefully described vaguely. Her body isn’t ever discussed in that great of detail, except when she’s starving. This was done on purpose. Because ACoTAR is a fucking SELF INSERT STORY. It is meant for people to be able to imagine themselves as Feyre. This includes bodies that weigh more than 100 lbs soaking wet. And don’t give me that “Oh, well she’s supposed to be starving at the beginning” BS. Didn’t we decide that it’s stupid to expect actors to waste themselves away like that for a role around when The Hunger Games movies came out. ALMOST A FUCKING DECADE AGO????? And then we rehashed that shit when Les Miserables (2012) forced its actors to waste away to nothing in unhealthy ways to ‘look the part’. Idk about you, but I’d rather have a Feyre that looks healthy when she’s supposed to be starving than force an actress to starve herself. And regardless of ALL of that, It’s not okay to fucking cyber bully people like that!

SECONDLY. How awfully presumptuous of you to assume that Danielle was cast, or even up for that role! The show was JUST announced. They’re still writing the pilot. The likelihood that they’ve actually done any start to casting is so astronomically low. All she did was follow SJM! It’s very likely that she followed SJM because she likes the books. MAYBE because she was hoping to create a connection to be cast in the show. Maybe not even as Feyre. Either way, at best you bullied an innocent fan of these books, and at worst you just bullied a qualified fantasy actor out of wanting to touch this project with a 100 foot pole. Probably showed an awful lot more qualified actors that they shouldn’t want to touch this project with a 100 foot pole. Well done. Remember this shit when the cast list *does* come.

Now, getting into more subjective things, even if she was up for Feyre, she looks very much like the minimal description given for Feyre. Looks almost exactly how I personally imagined Feyre. This woman is fucking gorgeous. But even if she didn’t look like Feyre, it would give NO ONE the right to do what they did. And you know what, as much as I don’t wish vitriol on her, and would understand if she decided to never come near this fandom again, there’s a part of me that hopes she *is* cast as Feyre. To prove a fucking point.

This shit is why I got out of fandom twitter. Fuckers are extra-toxic. First bullying people who ship different ships than you, now bullying someone off the platform simply for following an author...

#Acotar #ACoMAF #ACoWAR #ACOSF #Rhys #feyre #feysand #tamlin #Lucien #cassian #azriel #Acotar show #Acotar adaptation #what the fuck is wrong with people?

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hopeymchope · 3 years

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The Pre-Valentine’s Meeting: A Danganronpa Fic

Summary: Leon Kuwata calls together the men of Hope's Peak's 78th class in an attempt to learn who is expecting to receive Valentine's chocolate from which of their female classmates.

Links:

The Pre-Valentine’s Meeting on AO3

The Pre-Valentine’s Meeting on FF.Net

Or you can read it below the cut if you like.

"What's up, my dudes?" Leon Kuwata said as he strolled into the dining hall. He was addressing the longest table in the hall, where all of the other openly male members of the 78th class were currently seated.

In contrast to Leon's jovial attitude, Byakuya Togami looked deeply irritated. "We should be the ones asking that," he said irritably, "Since this meeting was at your insistence."

"This gathering is an important opportunity regardless of why Kuwata-kun requested it," Kiyotaka Ishimaru declared proudly, directing his comments towards Byakuya. "We must make the most of this chance to maximize our bonds as men!"

"I suppose I'm down with what bro said," Mondo Owada offered, "But does it gotta happen so late?"

"I'd never have guessed you're the early-to-bed type, Owada-kun," Makoto Naegi said with a light laugh.

Before Mondo could respond, Hifumi Yamada interjected: "It's only midnight! I'd normally be working until at least 2 a.m. on my latest doujin!"

"I ain't against a late night," Mondo said to Makoto. "But we gotta be real here, man — it's only Thursday."

"Exactly!" Leon replied, still standing. "It's basically already the weekend! Besides, don't tell me that your gang never got up to anything on Thursday nights."

"Not this late," Mondo told him. He smiled as he added, "Gotta save that energy so we can really tear it up on Friday night, y'know?"

"I do hold reservations about whether this will negatively impact our performance tomorrow," Taka said. "However, as there are no tests scheduled for this Friday, I believe the benefits of this male bonding time will outweigh the possible blowback!"

"Whatever, thanks for that," Leon said dismissively. "Let's get down to business," he said, pivoting to something that put much more passion in his voice. "We're a week and a half out from V-Day, and I am here to find out who among us is expecting Valentine's chocolate from which ladies!"

Makoto closed his eyes and hung his head. Mondo audbily groaned.

Yasuhiro Hagakure, on the other hand, grinned. "If that's all ya wanna know, I'll be happy to peer into the future for you!" he told Leon. "I've got a special Valentine deal going: Just 100 million yen!"

Now everyone at the table groaned. Makoto leaned over and gently told Hiro, "Ah, nobody here is gonna go for that. Sorry."

Byakuya Togami stood up. "If there's nothing else... " he muttered, then pivoted to face the door.

"Please, Togami-kun!" Taka said, reaching out with an open palm. "Without the full complement of our brethren, this male-bonding activity will be incomplete!"

Togami gave him a withering look. "I couldn't possibly care about that," he said. "I only came here to this gathering in the first place to satisfy my mild curiosity about what Kuwata considered so urgent." He moved his attention to Leon. "I admit that I didn't expect much, but you actually surprised me, Kuwata."

"How's that?" Leon said.

Byakuya smirked. "This was an even more foolish waste of time than I anticipated." He turned away once more. "Don't bother me again." With that, he walked out.

Taka looked crestfallen, but Leon didn't even visibly react to the insult. "Whatever," he said, shrugging. "He's only gonna get chocolate from Fukawa anyway."

Hifumi rubbed his chin. "Even if that's true, wouldn't her dual nature mean he'll get two gifts?"

"Dude, who even cares about that?" Leon responded. He pointed a finger at the side of his head. "Are you brain dead or something? It's not about how much chocolate you get — it's about the ladies you get it from!"

Hifumi gently adjusted his glasses with one hand. "Speak for yourself," he said back. "3D women mean nothing to me."

Mondo chuckled a little. "So nobody in our class is good enough for ya?" he prodded. "That the size of it?"

"Nothing so entitled," Hifumi said. "3D women are just too complicated, too... messy. With my 2D girls, I always know where I stand. The flags for instigating romance are always obvious, and in most cases, the ladies respond positively to those flags regardless of any other factors."

"Sure," Leon said, unconvinced. He finally sat down, slipping into a chair across from Hifumi, then leaning forward to bring himself closer. Hifumi instinctively leaned away. "Are you really gonna sit there and pretend there's not a single girl in the class who's even got you a little interested in the real thing?" Leon pressed.

Hifumi began to sweat. "We-well, I... I suppose... " He placed his forefinger across his lips and looked downward. "I mean... I guess I wouldn't mind if Chihiro Fujisaki-dono g-gave me some chocolate... "

Mondo glanced sideways and pursed his lips. "Huh," he muttered.

Leon rubbed the hair hanging off his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at Hifumi skeptically. "But is that, uh... likely?"

Hifumi looked dubious, but he managed a smile. "We've enjoyed working together on some projects in the past. Perhaps some Friend Chocolate... ?"

Leon shook his head. "Man, that's the worst kind of chocolate," he said.

"Philistine!" Hifumi suddenly declared. He thrust forward one hand, pointing dramatically at Leon as he bellowed, "All chocolate is precious!"

Leon folded his arms and leaned his head back. "Don't get all high-and-mighty with me. You know damn well the kinda chocolate I wanna hear about, man!"

"Well both of you shut the hell up?!" Mondo yelled, slamming a fist on the table. Everyone jerked backwards. Hifumi let out a small yelp of surprise. Makoto flailed his arms a bit. Unphased, Mondo continued, "Your dumbass argument doesn't matter!"

After an awkward beat of silence from the group, Taka was the first one to lean back into position. Sitting beside Mondo, he sternly said, "Bro, you know that kind of language is-"

Mondo waved him off. "Yeah, I know, I know. Sorry, bro."

Leon swallowed and tried to hold his ground. "Well, it still matters to me what kind of chocolate it is."

"That's not even what I was talkin' about," Mondo grumbled, looking away.

Taka's brow furrowed. "Then what did you mean by saying that it 'doesn't matter'?"

Mondo looked at him with irritation. "Just that... look, Fujisaki... " He paused and cleared his throat, then looked down at the floor. "They ain't plannin' to give anybody anything more than Friend Chocolate, okay?!"

There was another moment of silence that was soon interrupted by a loud gasp from Hiro. "This is awful!" he shouted. "Owada-chi! How come you never told me you're a psychic, too?!"

Before Mondo could protest, Taka stepped in. "That is not what bro is saying!" Taka told Hiro confidently. "Clearly, he learned this because he and Fujisaki-kun discuss workout tips!"

Makoto looked at Mondo with an expression of surprise on his face that transitioned into something else as he narrowed his eyes. He said, "So Owada-kun, are you saying that you just... asked her?"

Mondo eyes locked with his so quickly that Makoto flinched. "Hell no!" Mondo replied. "They just said so, okay?!"

This inspired a chuckle from Leon. "Maybe she was trying to keep you from getting your hopes up," he said, smiling.

Now it was Leon's turn to be on the receiving end of Mondo's glare. "God dammit, it ain't like that!" Mondo said.

"C-can we just move on from Fujisaki-dono already?" Hifumi said as visible sweat beaded upon his face. "Leon Kuwata-dono — why don't you volunteer information on the chocolate you expect to receive? You were the one to initiate this meeting, after all."

Letting out a fake sigh, Leon grinned as he said, "I get it. Everybody wants to know what Valentine's Day looks like for a real ladies' man. And yes, I'm sure I'll be getting chocolate from many of my fans."

Mondo let out a guffaw. "Is one of those 'fans' your cousin?" he teased.

Leon rolled his eyes. "I mean... she'll probably send me some too, but no, I meant-"

"I was asking about our classmates," Hifumi interrupted, pointing at Leon. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the rim of his glasses. "Are any of them your 'fans'?"

At this, Leon frowned a little. "Well... I'm hoping to receive some from somebody, but I kinda think she might have her eyes on somebody else... " His gaze drifted over to Makoto.

Makoto smiled nervously, holding up his hands in defense. "Hey now... I'm not expecting chocolate from anybody." At that, the entire rest of the table burst into laughter. Makoto looked around at everyone in confusion. "What?!" he demanded. "What'd I say?!"

As he stopped chuckling, Mondo bowed his head. "Dude, you really are clueless."

Makoto threw up his hands. "About what?"

"For starters, Maizono-chan is constantly by your side," Leon pointed out.

"She's a good friend!" Makoto insisted. "And that's all!"

Taka spoke up next. "I have noticed that Ikusaba-kun speaks with you more than most of our classmates."

Makoto shook his head rapidly. "Ikusaba-san is a friend, too! She's not, like... into me or anything like that."

"You and the detective girl seem pretty close," Hifumi observed.

Makoto looked away. "Kirigiri-san is... uh, sh-she wouldn't be interested in someone like me... " he said softly.

"Like I said," Mondo remarked. "You're clueless."

"You've got it wrong!" Makoto exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He pointed one hand dramatically around the table as he said, "Just because I'm friends with these girls doesn't mean they want to be my girlfriend!"

"And what about you?" Leon pressed. "Do you want to date any of them?"

Makoto opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His face reddened, and he slowly slumped back into his seat. "I'll... deal with that on White Day," he finally murmured.

Leon leaned back and and raised an eyebrow at Makoto. "Yeah, about White Day... Do I gotta get your permission before I give any of those girls chocolate?"

Raising his forefinger to the side of his mouth, Makoto scratched at his cheek and said, "No no, you're fine!" After a momentary pause, he added, "Uh, I assume you're talking about Maizono-san?"

Leon visibly cringed. "If you know that I'm into her, does that mean Maizono-chan knows?"

Makoto nodded a couple times. "She does have really good intuition," he said, smiling sympathetically.

Hiro rubbed his head sheepishly as he told Leon, "Actually, I knew you're gunning for her, too."

"Crap," Leon said emphatically. "If you could tell, everybody must know!"

"Hey — not everybody has my psychic power!" Hiro protested.

Mondo bowed his head a bit and countered, "Kuwata's got a point, man. I mean, I already knew."

Leon put his head in his hands. "And here I was already working out a grand romantic gesture for White Day," he grumbled.

Taka clenched his fist. "You can still do that!" he declared. "It need not be a complete surprise!"

Closing one eye tight, Leon looked upwards with the other as he considered that. "It loses some impact, but... yeah, maybe." He sat upright once more to look at Taka and Mondo, who were seated beside one another. “Let's just move on," Leon said quickly. "This is about the V-Day, not White Day. So what about you two?"

Mondo and Taka exchanged look, then simultaneously turned back to Leon. "What about us?" Mondo asked.

With exasperation, Leon asked, "What girls do you think you'll get chocolate from?"

Confused, Taka and Mondo looked at each other for a long moment. Then, slowly, they began to laugh.

As the two of them burst into hysterics, Leon threw up his hands in a shrug. "Am I missing something?"

Mondo gradually stopped laughing. "Who needs chocolate from girls?" he said. Throwing an arm around Taka, he grinned as he continued, "All I need is some chocolate from my bro here, and I'm set!"

Blushing, Taka put an arm around Mondo and exclaimed, "Same here!"

Leon closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, this is turning into a real bust," he grumbled.

"Perhaps the problem is that no one can truly know what to expect," Hifumi offered.

"Yeah," Hiro agreed. "None of us are in relationships, and I mean... when it comes to girls, most of us are just as clueless as Naegi-chi!"

"Hey!" Makoto protested.

Ignoring Makoto, a dismayed Leon acknowledged Hiro's remark. "Yeah, I'm getting that impression." Looking around at the group, he said, "Maybe I should've waited to ask for everyone's White Day plans. At least then it's all up to the guys."

Taka gave a swift nod to that. "It is easiest to know future events when you are the one who controls them," he stated.

Makoto frowned at Hiro. "You know, somehow it hurts more when you call me clueless... "

Hiro shrugged at him by way of apology. "My offer still stands for anyone interested, by the way," Hiro told the table. "Step right up and get your fortune told — learn which ladies will love you today!"

A variety of negative replies emerged from the rest of the table. "Not interested." "No, thank you." "Not a chance." "N-no, sorry." "Nuh-uh."

#danganronpa fanfic #my writing #danganronpa #danganronpa fic #leon kuwata #makoto naegi #yasuhiro hagakure #mondo owada #mondo oowada #kiyotaka ishimaru #hifumi yamada #valentine's day #danganronpa valentines

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“A Sense of Time” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: me with footage from AMC

Summary: Six years after Rick Grimes disappeared, Daryl is still out in the woods looking for him. One day he and Dog come across you and offer you some food. Sometimes all a person needs is a little human conversation to point them home.

Word Count: 3507

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Nobody Knows” by The Lumineers

Note: This is just a short little thing I had written in my book. I like to think that Daryl visited his niece and nephew a lot, but sometimes needed a bit of a reminder. I think he also just needs a little human interaction every once in a while. Not a ship post, just a little conversation. Thanks for reading!

-----

Daryl Dixon had gotten used to the solitude the woods provided.

He had set out shortly after the bridge was blown out, determined to find his brother. He didn’t know if he would be able to find Rick Grimes alive, dead, or as a Walker. All he did know was that he needed to bring him home for all of them, but especially for Michonne, Judith, and RJ, the son Rick never knew.

Six years he searched and after a while, it was just easier to stay away. Daryl still made the occasional trip to Hilltop for supplies and to check-in with Tara and Jesus. He knew he should go to Alexandria more. He knew Judith asked about him, RJ too, but he couldn’t face Michonne. After what happened with Jocelyn, the same weight bore down on both of them and if he couldn’t bring Rick back to her, he didn’t want to see her.

It was mostly guilt on his part, even though he knew Rick had made the decision to stop the herd and protect the communities. He tried to save what they had all built together. Daryl couldn’t imagine what Rick would say if he knew how distant they all were now.

Maggie was gone, Alexandria was closed, Tara and Jesus rarely spoke to others, the Kingdom was falling apart, and Daryl wasn’t even sure what was happening over at Oceanside. Everything that Carl and Rick had wanted was now tearing at the seams, but Daryl knew it was going to happen. Nothing had been the same without either Grimes and everybody knew it. Hell, he figured even Negan knew it and the man was under lock and key.

But regardless, the world had to keep going.

Daryl walked through the woods, Dog at his side. He was on his way back to his makeshift camp after checking the traps when he heard a commotion coming through the trees.

Unsheathing his knives, Daryl moved silently. Dog kept right behind him, ready to move on his master’s command. The two had been hunting together for a while now and if Daryl couldn’t detect something sneaking up on them, Dog definitely could.

Daryl moved closer to the noise. He identified it as fighting immediately. He rushed ahead, hoping it wasn’t anyone he knew. The last thing he needed was one of his family members getting attacked or bit while looking for him in the dense forest.

Coming up to a clearing, Daryl paused just inside the tree line and watched the scene before him. About ten or so Walkers were converging on a small form in the center of the small field. Just as he was about to take his bow from his shoulder, the Dead began dropping and he finally caught sight of you.

Armed with a machete, you swung it in perfect arcs, cutting through the Dead like they were nothing. At this point in the Apocalypse, unless they were fresh, the Roamers, as you called them, were pretty much as brittle as sand. It didn’t take much force to take them out.

It was nearly second nature to kill them. You swung and swung, keeping light on your feet as you were taught. Heads toppled to the ground and eventually, all that remained was a single Roamer that limped on a bony stump. Twirling your blade around in your hand, you circled it. It lunged at you, but you easily stepped out of the way.

“Here, boy,” you taunted with a whistle. You could only imagine what your grandmother would say if she saw you playing with the Dead, but you had been alone for almost two years now and you needed a little bit of fun, even though it was a tad sadistic.

The Roamer snapped its jaws at you and soon you got bored. With a sigh, you swung your blade and took off its head, stopping the brain with your boot. Looking around at all the corpses, you got to work. You never understood why your grandmother had taught you to pile them up, but you always did it.

You thought it might be because it reminded her of a funeral pyre, just without the actual flames. Only a few times did you actually light them and that was when they were people you knew. Now it was too much of a risk to do so. It could not only attract more of the Dead but the Living too and that was the last thing you wanted.

As you dragged the Roamers into the center of the clearing, two pairs of eyes watched on from the trees. Daryl was wary of you, but something told him that you were just a nomad. It wasn’t uncommon for the lone traveler to come through the woods. Most people had the same idea: head to the Capital. Not that there was much left of Washington, D.C., but people still had hope.

Dog sat by his side, leaning slightly against him. Daryl reached down and scratched the dog’s head. He watched as you piled up the bodies and then started to go through the pockets of the Dead. He knew a few people, both living and dead that would disagree with looting a corpse, but he himself had done it more times than he could count. It was a basic survival skill these days and if you were alone, it could save your life.

You moved through the pile, looking for anything you could use. You found a new knife, an old book of matches, a bottle opener on a set of keys, and even a few bandannas you could use while walking through the more less-desirable areas. You grabbed it all and placed it in your backpack.

Pulling out your water bottle, you took a long pull and then poured some on your head, relishing in the cool feeling of the Virginia heat. You then climbed on top of the pile and sat, watching your surroundings as you took a break. This was something else your grandmother would slap you for, but you knew there was one thing that kept the Dead away and that was the smell of more Dead.

The horrific stench of the Roamers had become an odd comfort for you. It made you more at ease while sleeping and if you were being honest, you started to feel more comfortable around them than you did people. The new world was doing strange things to you and at this point, you were happy to let it.

Soon enough, though, you had to move on. Sliding off the pile, you grabbed your bag, sheathed your machete, and began moving towards the trees. The sun was going to start going down soon and you would need to keep moving if you were going to make it through the thick forest.

You headed towards the river, thinking it would be the easiest landmark to follow. The last thing you needed was to get lost in the middle of Virginia. With everything so overgrown and signs weathered, it was hard to even know what state you were in, let alone the city. Then there was the matter of direction. Grandma may have been all about free spirits and honoring the dead, but never once did she teach you how to find your way without a map.

“Thanks, grandma,” you grumbled as you jumped over a rotted tree. A rustling sound came from your right and your hand went to your machete, but you relaxed when you saw four legs, two tall ears, a tail, and a black nose. “This day just keeps getting more interesting,” you said to the dog that approached you.

The dog growled at you, showing its sharp canines. You put your hands on your hips and scowled at the creature. “Alright, boy,” you said, “normally I would kill any animal I came across, but you…” you trailed off, tilting your head, “I never thought I’d see a domestic dog like you, let alone one that wasn’t all ribs and feral teeth.” You reached out your hand when the dog barked and you jumped back.

“Okay, not too trusting,” you said, “I get that. How about this? I go my way and you go yours and I don’t have to kill you. How’s that sound?” You asked and the damn dog growled back.

“Dog!” You startled at the voice, cursing. The dog looped back towards a tree where a man stepped out from behind. This time, you hung onto the hilt of the machete as you took in the stranger. He was taller than you with long hair and scruffy facial hair that was half-hidden by a hood. Along his back was a large crossbow and you knew a man like that had to have more weapons on him.

When he moved closer to you, took another step back, tripping slightly. He put his hands up. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya, girl,” he said slowly. You watched as he kept his distance, but got close enough to where you could see him a bit better. He pulled down his hood and shook out his hair a bit.

“What do you want?” You asked, keeping an eye on his hands.

“Yer the one walkin’ into my camp,” he pointed out. He nodded behind him and just through the trees you could see a fire pit, tent, and what looked like some hand-carved spears.

“Please tell me you’re not some psycho who strings people up in trees,” you said, grimacing. The man raised a brow and shook his head slowly.

“What kind of company you keep?” He asked, but you figured it was more of a rhetorical question. Your gaze gifted back to the dog at the stranger’s side.

“He yours?” You asked. The man nodded. He then picked up a stick and held it aloft.

“Dog, go!” He yelled, throwing the stick back towards camp. The canine took off at full speed, happily barking after his prize.

“You named the dog, Dog?” You asked. The stranger shrugged.

“Didn’t know his name,” he rationalized. You pursed your lips, rocking awkwardly on your heels.

“So if you’re not gonna hang me from a tree or let your dog take a bite…” you trailed off, pointing over your shoulder.

“Where ya headed?” He asked.

“I’m lookin’ for someone. Figured I would head downriver. Guess I’ll find out one way or another.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, chewing on the side of his thumb. “Ya hungry?” He asked. You hesitated. “Just fish, girl, ain’t gonna be anything special.” You thought about it for a moment before nodding. He jerked his head towards camp and you followed.

“The name’s (Y/N), by the way, not ‘girl’,” you said, catching up to him.

“Daryl,” he responded.

“Nice to meet ya, Daryl,” you acknowledged. He grunted in response causing you to chuckle. Daryl lead you back to his camp and as he got to work on cleaning the fish he had caught earlier, you took a turn about the area.

Everything from the tent to the small weapons area screamed survivor. You could tell that he had been out there long, but he also knew how to live within the trees. These were the kind of people you liked. The ones that knew what they were doing and just lived rather than trying to hunt the weak or take advantage of other people. Daryl seemed like good one. He also didn’t seem scared of living out and around the Dead. “Get many Dead ones, ‘round here?” You asked. He looked at you.

“Got traps set up,” he said, slicing open the fish next to a fire he began to stoke. “Dog keeps ‘em away.”

“Bet he does,” you said, smiling fondly at the mutt as he chewed happily on the stick Daryl had given him. Sitting down by the fire, you let your joints feel proper heat for the first time in weeks. You watched Daryl work on your dinner for a while, watching as he used his knives. Just by the way he cooked, you knew he was a skilled fighter.

“Where ya comin’ from?” Daryl asked suddenly. Leaning back against one of the stumps, you sighed.

“Kind of everywhere,” you said, “I was using the highways, you know, trying to keep some sort of route. Then I kept running into trouble so I headed into the woods.”

“What kind of trouble?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“Just the occasional asshole who thinks I’m an easy target. A lot of people out there lookin’ to steal, kill, etc. Figured I’d be safer out here considering most people don’t risk entering the trees, fear of the Dead, and all that.”

“Smart people,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

“What does that make us?” You asked.

“Used to it,” he said in a low voice.

“Used to what?”

“The fucked up world,” he said simply.

“That is the most accurate thing I have heard in weeks, Daryl,” you said, raising your imaginary glass. Daryl shook his head and went back to cooking the food. “Are there many people around? I’d rather not have to go deeper into the woods.”

“There are people,” he said, serving up a piece of fish to you in a metal dish. “A couple of communities. But they’re good people, won’t mess with ya if yer friendly.” You snorted at that.

“If they’re anything like the last community I ran across, I’ll make sure to keep out of their line of sight before they try to make me a full course meal and offer me five-star stay,” you said, remembering the young boy you met not that long ago.

“Where was that?” Daryl asked.

“A couple of days walk from here,” you said, “that way.” You pointed over your shoulder. “There was this kid, he was out in the woods around the walls. I was looking for water and we ran into each other.” You laughed at the memory. “Kid nearly knocked me on my ass with that stick of his. Thought I was an intruder or something. Anyways, he invited me back to his ‘Kingdom’, but I had to move on. The whole walls and leader thing isn’t really for me.” You finished and went back to your dinner, but Daryl had paused. “What?” You asked as he stared at you.

“Ya were at the Kingdom?” He asked.

“Wait, that’s the actual name?” You laughed, “okay then I owe stick-boy an apology. I thought he was just screwin’ with me.”

“Nah, it’s a real place. Run by two good people. The kid with the stick is their son.”

“You know them?” Daryl nodded. “Well, next time you see them, tell them a passing traveler thinks their kid is a total badass.” This got a small smile from Daryl.

“Why don’t ya like walls?”

“Why don’t you?” you asked, turning it back on him.

“Never said I didn’t,” he said with a challenging look. You raised your hands in surrender.

“I just prefer to not be locked down, I guess,” you finally answered. “Easier that way.”

“Ya lost somebody?” he asked, guessing by the tone of your voice.

“My whole group, actually,” you said. “I was on watch in a tree one night and I didn’t hear the Roamers enter the camp. I was so tired and I…” you sighed again, picking at the fish. “Anyways, they all died, including my grandmother, and I had to move on.”

“Sorry ‘bout yer people,” he said.

“Thanks.” It was quiet after that. You didn’t know if bringing up your dead family was a good idea, but then again, Daryl was a complete stranger. Who cared what he knew. You weren’t going to see him again anyways. “You got family besides the mutt?” you asked. Daryl leaned back on his forearms, kicking rocks into the fire. He nodded.

“They’re around,” he said and then paused as if he was unsure about sharing more. You waited patiently. Finally, he turned his face towards the rickety boat that sat on the water’s edge. “Got a niece and nephew too. Good kids.” It was subtle, but when he mentioned them, you could see a light in his eyes even when they were slightly turned away from you. They clearly meant a lot to him.

“Kids,” you said, “they grow up so fast. Don’t wait too long to see them again.” Daryl looked back at you and nodded. You hoped that was taking your words to heart. “Besides, maybe they can convince you to cut that thing on your head.” Daryl raised his eyebrows at you.

“Ya know me for all of an hour and yer judgin’,” he said, messing with his long hair.

“Once you share a dirty fish with someone, they instantly become your friend. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“Who made that rule?” he asked.

“I don’t know, probably Aristotle or George Bush. Who cares? It’s gospel now.” You popped another piece of fish into your mouth and licked your fingers.

“What did you do before the Turn?” he asked after a moment.

“High school,” you said, finishing your food. “Imagine that. One day I was sitting in Calculus class and the next thing I know my teacher is stumbling through the room trying to eat the assistant principal.” Daryl whistled low at that.

“Yer folks?”

“Both out of the country when the outbreak began. They were pilots. Dad was in China and Mom was in South Africa. Not sure what happened to them. Gran pretty much raised me so I stuck with her for as long as possible. Then, well, you know,” you said, referring back to the other story.

“Ya don’t seem to carry the weight of their deaths,” Daryl observed, handing you a cup of water. You placed the metal mug in your hands, watching the flames flicker in the dark.

“Don’t really have the time, you know? Can’t think about it. The way I see it, the world killed them as it died. Nobody’s fault, just the way it is now.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said, sitting all the way up. “Kingdom isn’t the only place ‘round here that has walls and people and a place to sleep. There’s a community not too far from here called Hilltop. If ya give the leader my name, he’ll let ya stay. Then just down near the ocean, there’s Oceanside, Cyndie is a good person.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” you asked as he finished.

“Yer a survivor. At some point, ya gotta stop movin’. Let yourself feel safe,” Daryl explained. “What’s the hurt in that?”

“There isn’t any,” you said, “but like I said, I’m not one for walls. I do better on my own.”

“Nobody does,” he disagreed.

“Aren’t you alone out here with your hunting, fishing, and your traps?” you asked with raised brows.

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Just think about it, alright?”

“I gotta find who I’m lookin’ for, Daryl,” you said, smiling softly at him.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet,” you finally admitted, “but I guess I’ll know when I find them. I just know it’s not here. These aren’t my people, but they are yours. Your niece and nephew, they’re gonna need all the family they can get. Go see them, even if it’s just for a day. You never know when the last time will be.” You got up from the ground, dusting off your jeans.

“If ya need somewhere to sleep-” he said, but you cut him off.

“Thanks, but I gotta keep movin’. But before I go,” you slipped your hand into your pocket and pulled out a piece of leather cord. At the end of it was a 1788 Virginia quarter. The coin was weathered from all the hands it had passed through. It had been given to you by a guy about a year ago when you came across him hiding out in an old middle school. You reached over and pressed it into Daryl’s hand. He looked at it with confusion. “Just to remember, you know?” He closed his fingers around the small token and nodded.

“Thanks,” he said. “I hope ya find what yer lookin’ for, (Y/N),” he said and you knew he meant it. You offered your hand again and he gripped it. Letting go, you reached down and stroked Dog behind his ears.

“Till we meet again, Daryl,” you said and then picked up your backpack and disappeared into the dark woods, smiling for the first time in a long time.

Daryl watched after you, his thumb running over the silver coin in his hand. Dog nudged his other hand and Daryl obliged his furry companion, petting him down his back. Looking back at the flames he decided that tomorrow he would take a ride to Alexandria to see Judith and RJ. It had been too long and he needed to see his family.

TAGS: @thanossexual

#the walking dead imagines #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd imagines #twd #twd season 9 #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #reader insert #Dog

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spooky-ghost-boi · 3 years

Text

Vacation

Words: 1892

Tom Nook x Reader

Warnings: Feederism, feeder/feedee dynamic, mentions of smut, fatass Tanuki, bad writing because I’m tired and too annoyed to edit this properly.

Description: Tom thinks he has to lose weight but his job doesn’t really do him well so he chooses to take a vacation but ends up coming back fatter and you love it.

A/N: what this shit, tumblr could you possibly be any slower? Mentally I am beyond Spain without an S, so if any Twitter bitches see this. Fight me.

Tom sighed as he sat at his desk at the resident services.

He had been trying out various diets that Isabelle had recommended to him, after trying low-carb and Keto he was trying intermittent fasting and he lost about 5 pounds so far but it was making him extremely hangry most of the time. Considering that Isabelle snacked and ate lunch while being in the same room as him.

It was all alright until that damned Kitsune had the guts to appear at the Island and try to sell some faux painting to the Resident Representative, aka you.

Tom was furious and of course, kicked Redd off the Island but in the heat of his fury he tried to calm himself down but it didn’t work especially since the fucking kitsune teased Tom for his weight, which would’ve been fine, if they were alone but you had to witness that.

As soon as Tom came home he.. Well, let his anger out by binging until he couldn’t move.

He actually liked the feeling of being stuffed but he choose to ignore it although it was quite hard and he realized it was better if he took a break from work to focus on his weight loss.

The reason for his weight loss idea was quite simple; he wanted to impress you, the resident representative, he had a crush on you and told Isabelle who suggested that losing weight could help him in winning your heart.

She couldn’t have been more wrong, but it wasn’t like they both knew your kinks.. Although it was obvious. Haha idiots.

Of course Tom had told Isabelle about his plan and she agreed to do the resident services stuff.

Tom had two months of, well, vacation.

He stayed at his house and the first two days it all went great before he started binging. Constantly. To his dismay he actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know w h y or h o w but he actually disliked that he liked feeling stuffed to the brim.

So the thicc Tanuki visited another island in hopes that it would motivate him to lose weight.

(Spoiler: it didn’t HAHAHA FAT TANUKI)

During his stay at another Island he ended up discovering lots of different foods that made him feel better about the whole Redd situation and since his coping mechanism had always been stress eating he piled on a lot of weight. He was in denial, but that didn’t stop him from trying to rationalize as to why he needed bigger clothes.

Of course you were part of his racing thoughts most of the time and he liked to fantasize about you in several different ways.

So he soon returned home.

His vacation seemed to have ended too fast for him but he also wanted to get back to work so he could see you.

He stepped on the scale the evening before he had to return to work again and was surprised when it had said that he gained 30 pounds in two months, including the 5 pounds he had lost. But that couldn’t be, could it? After pondering about as to why or how he could have gained that much weight over mindlessly eating a box of half a dozen doughnuts and two cheeseburgers. He had come to the conclusion that he was too tired and that the scale must be broken.

After dumping the wrappers into the trash, he held his stuffed gut and walked to his bedroom and got onto his bed which creaked under the weight of the tubby Tanuki. Tom eyed tge stash of mini cakes that he had beside his bed, despite feeling full and heavy he decided to have a few since ‘they couldn’t do much damage, hm?’

He didn’t notice that he dozed off and woke up in the morning, surrounded by wrappers.

Tom sat up and grunted, rubbing his still rather bloated belly that sat in his lap whenever he attempted sitting up. It wasn’t really like he noticed or minded, he didn’t even notice how snug his work shirt was. He noticed the bit of rain and put on his jacket and zipped it up, completely obvious to the belly poking out from under the rain coat.

He just sighed softly, before walking downstairs into the kitchen and having some pancakes with lots of syrup for breakfast. For some reason he felt like this wasn’t exactly enough for him and looked at the clock just to see that it was still early as shit and he had t i m e.

As you can imagine the phat Tanuki had binged to the point of being exhausted by breathing but he did have places to be at so he got up anyway and walked to the resident services.

You were there with the Nooklings and Isabelle, you were excited to see Tom again after the two of you didn’t talk for so long. However nobody told you why he was gone.

Eventually Tom entered the Resident Services and Isabelle was quite surprised.

Timmy and Tommy also were surprised.

You were surprised and horny.

Tom could see the surprise in the faces of everyone. But it also made him horny. Not to mention he was a little surprised and shy to see you there and he was blushing a little.

“Ehm, good morning.” Tom responded, he needed a cigarette or some cake.

Isabelle stayed quiet and you smiled at the Tanuki.

You decided to break the awkward moment and walked towards Tom to give him a hug, because yiu had missed him and you wanted to feel all that chonk pressed against you.

Tom hugged you back instinctively, his big belly did push the two of you a bit apart but it was hot regardless.

“I made you some cake! I thought you would like it.” You said shyly as Tom nodded.

“The thing is, I forgot it at home so if you’d like to come by after work.. You could take it home? I mean.. We could have dinner at my place.” You blurted out the last part, keeping your voice so low you weren’t sure whether he had heard you.

“That’d be splendid, hm.” Tom said, then gently let go of you.

You nodded and the two of you returned to both your respective j o b s.

Tom tried to ignore Isabelle’s comments about his weight, he was sure he lost weight. Which probably was due to his lack of physical awareness.

He had spent his time snacking during work and he comfortably filed out papers and drank his coffee. Some Animals teased him but Tom didn’t really mind, in fact it was almost kinda arousing to him and he didn’t understand why.

Eventually he closed off the shop and got into his car and made his way to your house, he was a little tired and actually quite hungry.

He knocked on your door and you opened it, smiling softly at him as he was a little out of breath.

“Come in! I already made dinner.” You said, then led him to your kitchen.

“You have an eye for interior design, hm?” Tom remarked as he sat on a chair which creaked a little under his weight. He blushed, “oh- uh.”

You noted this and smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s fine! Make yourself comfortable, it��s just you and I afterall..” You said. Maybe it wasn’t the most reassuring thing to say, if you took it out of context it could have been maybe a little weird to say that. Almost sounded like you were trying to fatten up the Tanuki and eat him.. Maybe you were but more like in a sexual way.

(A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

However Tom looked a little more relaxed after you said that.

“Well, how was your day, hm?” Tom asked, as you put some food on his plate.

“It was fine, just the usual things.. I went fishing and helped out some villagers. How about you?” You asked, you had put quite a lot of food onto his plate.

“I’ve had some annoying customers, but that’s just normal.” Tom said, as he ate some of the food you had prepared, “this is really good.” He said.

After a few hours of talking the two of you warmed up to each other and you eventually told him how you felt about him and as a surprise, he felt the same way.

At that point Tom had packed away quite a few plates and snacks, the two of you sat on the couch and you straddled his lap.

He cupped your face and kissed you gently, before you fed him a tray of cupcakes. He obediently ate.

A couple snacks ago his shirt button seemed to have popped off and his sweater vest had exposed around half of his pretty chubby belly.

“You’re fat, I mean this in the most loving way possible.” You said and pinched his love handles.

“I’m just bloated-“ he said, jokingly.

“Sure.” You laughed.

“Alright, maybe I am. Happy? Hm?” Tom said as he unbuttoned his too tight pants and pinned you underneath him.

“You’re definitely fatter than before.” You remarked as you patted his overstuffed belly.

“Mhm.. You like it as much as I like it. Am I right?” He smirked.

Anyways it was a very delightful evening for the both of you and I ain’t gonna write smut because that’d be awkward as shit so just imagine it, aight?

Two ‘fucking’ months later.

You woke up next to Tom, who was still asleep and snoring quite loudly.

He had been eating quite well the past two months making him look pretty chubby, he was waddling now most of the time and his belly was s o f t^2.

You walked downstairs and made him some breakfast.

It didn’t take long for him to wake up because he smelled delicious food, he sighed and waddled his way downstairs and sat on a chair. “Good morning.” He said, smiling a little despite looking still pretty tired.

“Good morning! How’d you sleep?” You asked.

“Pretty well.. Well, until I woke up because I’m starving. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you, dear.” He said.

“Starve.” You said jokingly. “You have quite the big appetite, I give you that.” You said as you placed a stack of waffles.

“Mhm..” He yawned and ate his breakfast, “I’m still.. So tired, feed it to me? Hm?”

You couldn’t tell whether this was a suggestion or order from him, but you wouldn’t be Y/N if you turned down feeding the lazy Tanuki.

You nodded and fed him, you would straddle his lap.. If you could. Tom’s belly was taking up most of it and he didn’t mind.

He ate all of it and sighed when he felt your hands rub his bloated big belly.

Eventually the two of you got ready for work and he waddled to his car, tried to wiggle into the drivers seat which didn’t work out as his tummy was in the way of the wheel.

“Need help?” You asked.

“I would appreciate it, yes yes!” He blushed as he moved to the passenger seat and you drove the car to the Resident Services.

You had gone to work for the day.

#idk what tags to add #chubby tom nook #fat tom nook #chubby tom nook x reader #weight gain fic #Bad writing alert

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cupstealer · 3 years

Note

Re: your last ask.

I am also no longer into the fandom side of hockey anymore and hardly ever read fan fic anymore. (A senior thesis will do that to a person 😔) Buut I want you to know that I think about contact high on a regular basis. Once a week maybe type of regular, when I’m wishing I was reading something fun and not a science journal. Is that weird?! I mean I know that sounds a little crazy- but it might be the greatest fic I’ve ever read. While I was reading it I got the sense that it would be one of my favorites, but I had no idea how much it would still ruminate with me a year and a half later. I don’t think I can recall a single other rpf work like I can that one. You are such an amazing writer! And I hope you continue to write- whatever it may be that your writing about! 💕

(Sorry to keep putting these on y’all’s dash, but it’s the only way I can THANK these anons and they definitely need thanking.)

Your timing OP ;.; I really got this ask when I needed it most. 💕 Thank you thank you thank you! Sorry for the delayed response—it’s so hard to figure out how to thank somebody and explain how much words like this mean while not sounding like a flu patient or something.

To answer your question, it’s not weird! There are absolutely fics that live rent-free in my head to the degree that I’m basically sponsoring them on a permanent residency program [cut to footage of bring it if you really want it by staraflur]. And god, what an honor that Contact High is like that for you 🙏 Contact High is my favorite thing that I’ve written. A lot (pfff, all) of the content was so self-indulgent for me, just utter wish-fulfillment, which I usually try to dial back, but I wanted to see what might happen if I really leaned in instead. (The thing with toothpaste/walking in on someone actually happened to me when I was staying over at a friend’s house in high school... Sorry again to her brother, I promise I barely saw anything.) There isn’t a single element of that fic that I wasn’t excited about while I was writing it. And it’s that much more touching when the work that feels the most ‘me’ is someone’s favorite.

Anon, I hope you get some free time to read fun stuff soon! You deserve it. And good luck on your thesis! Defend that sumbitch like you’re Connor Murphy (no idea if it’s the kind of thesis you defend, but you get my meaning). Thank you again 💕

I am still writing, by the way! Just as slow as ever though, and for a very mixed bag of subjects! No hockey lately, though I have a few unpublished 1988 WIPs that I haven’t touched in a long stretch yet haven’t let go of either. Every fall, I pump myself up to roll up my sleeves and edit/finish this genre-confused frankenstein of a haunted house-type fic, and I haven’t given up hope yet! (Plus if I finish it, I can finally read jezziejay’s witch Jonny fic—which got posted while I was writing mine, and I made myself bookmark it for later so I wouldn’t be influenced or in my head about any overlap even though they’re almost certainly totally different in every way. I’m dying to read hers ;.;)

Hmm I hesitate to say this, but... If anyone is really interested regardless of fandom, there’s also an unorthodox fic I wrote as a Christmas present for my sister back in 2017 that she keeps telling me to post. (I know, and it gets weirder from there.) I think I want to but I’ve hesitated for several reasons. First: I need to re-do the ending now that I’m not scrambling to finish it on Christmas Eve. Second: It is a pairing that does not exist and kind of bananas. More info under the cut if you’re interested.

Basically, years ago, one of my sisters and I had a looong conversation about who was worthy of being shipped with Stacker Pentecost from Pacific Rim, and when none of the characters from the movie satisfied us, we reached out into the vast universe of basically anyone from any media to find him love, guess-and-check style. After literal hours, I brought up one of my favorite under-appreciated characters, Linus Caldwell from Ocean’s Eleven (Matt Damon). Which makes no sense, but doesn’t it a little? It became a running joke, and then a running a joke that I was gonna write it, and then not a joke. Ain’t that the way?

So yeah—Third: I’m hesitant to get somebody excited about a new hockey fic only to open the email and see it’s a batshit crossover that literally no one (except my sisters) is asking for. That being said, I started it as a joke/challenge, but ended up making something that I find quite a fun little ride because I was so loose with it (because, like, who’s ever gonna see this, right? Some real dance like nobody’s watching shit). I’ve written a bunch of stuff never meant to see daylight, but this fic in particular feels complete. It just has a lot going on (Hidden identities! Never Been Kissed-style fake student/professor tension! Chase scenes! Cameos! Close-up magic! Heist crew banter! Idris Elba’s North London accent! My total lack of military knowledge!). Also it’s over 30k words. (Yeah.)

Is there any interest in me posting this?? To be clear, I’m definitely not expecting it to be popular or anything, but taking the time to fix it up only makes sense if I know at least two people will lay eyes one it, lol. You don’t have to know both films really well for it to make sense, but familiarity with the Ocean’s trilogy and characters probably helps a lot for context since it takes place in between those movies. Goes without saying that no offense will be taken if there isn’t clamoring demand amongst hockey rpfers for 30k of Pacific Rim crossed over with a George Clooney movie franchise in a fic that has neither giant robots nor giant monsters (nor George Clooney, in any appreciable quantity)... Think I’m capable of taking that sentiment on the chin. 🤙

#replies #lOng replies damn #fic stuff

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