#If I get any replies I'll check em when I wake up
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any day now | part two.
adn masterlist
summary: after a flight back from cali to memphis, elvis finds himself somehow stuck in your apartment in 2022.
warnings: time traveler!elvis, panic attacks, mentions of his death, may contain inaccuracies and typos.
wc: 2.9k
a/n: hi, if ya wanna be tagged in this fic, reply to this post and i'll be sure to add you to the taglist! no set schedule, trying to upload at least every two weeks.
you squinted your eyes at the bright light coming through the window, sitting up slowly and checking the time on your phone. but then you remembered. “elvis..” you gasped, shooting up quickly from the couch. your eyes wandered to your bedroom door, still closed. there was no sign of him waking up in the middle of the night, you didn't hear him either. not even for a glass of water.
you eventually gathered the courage to get up and stand in front of the door, pressing your ear against it. your heart sank, noticing there was no sound coming from the otherside. you turned the knob, preparing yourself for the worst.
“oh, good morning.” elvis said casually with a smile, book in his hands.
your jaw went agape, “y-you're still here?” you said, surprised. “did you even sleep?”
“just a few hours–better than none.” he shrugged, setting the book aside.
“and you're still here?!” you repeated.
he threw his hands up, “honey, i’m just as confused as you are.”
you stared at him in disbelief. now you're really regretting not buying that pullout couch when you first moved in. you let him have first dibs at the bathroom, allowing him to shower and come out smelling like your favorite floral body wash compared to his usual axe and muskier scents from what you've read online. afterwards, you made him coffee just like he liked it as well as breakfast–not even having to ask how he liked his eggs and bacon.
you set the plate in front of him as you took a seat in front of him at the table. he looked down at the plate, eyebrows furrowed. “how did you know?”
“everyone knows, trust me.”
the two of you sat in silence for a moment, enjoying breakfast quietly as you ran through your to-do list for the day. clearly elvis was going to be with you for awhile, at least you hoped. he needed clothes and maybe his own toiletries, but how?
you didn't want to bring attention to elvis and have people continue to question elvis's existence. it was a common myth that he was still alive–a stupid myth at that. you didn't want to add onto that, let alone in the middle of walmart. having elvis lay low for awhile would be the smart move, at least not until you were sure he'd be around for awhile. there was really no way of telling how long he'd be with you.
“you think there's somethin’ i gotta do in order to go back?” he interrupted your thoughts, taking a sip of his coffee.
you raised an eyebrow, “like what?”
“i don't know. do we kiss?”
you choked on your orange juice, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “excuse me?!”
“no! no-no, that's not—i mean!” he set his mug down, shaking his hands. “i-i-i meant like they do in fairy tales. like, a kiss wakin’ ‘em up.”
“i’m not kissing you.” you said sternly.
he looked at you in surprise, “you don't wanna kiss me?” he asked, shocked.
“why would i? we just met.”
he scratched the side of his head and scoffed. that wasn't something he was used to. everyone wanted a piece of him. “i’m not sayin’ i wanna kiss you either.” he said defensively. “it was just an idea. or maybe i need to hit my head again–if i did hit it, which i don't think i did.”
you rolled your eyes, “and i’m not letting you hit your head again.”
“are you gonna let me do anything?” he crossed his arms.
“i don't know, we'll see.” you stood up and took his empty plate. “you did spawn in my apartment after all.”
after back and forth banter and a clean up in the kitchen, you met back in the living room, pacing back and forth while elvis watched you from the sofa. you had to go back to work soon and god knows how you're going to manage leaving elvis at home by himself. for starters, he needed a phone. a way to contact you in case he accidentally started a fire from not knowing how to use something as simple as the air fryer. maybe a few books–ones he loved in his other life and ones you think he'd enjoy that you also liked. there was just so much to do. all this for him to possibly be gone tomorrow or the day after. but you still refused to talk to him about his death.
it was baffling how calm elvis was throughout all of this. why wasn't he freaking out? like he was okay with suddenly being in an entirely new world. you read books and watched documentaries but he was still a stranger in your home, but elvis was okay with that. it made no sense to you.
“honey-”
“what do you wanna know? apart from your death–what do you wanna know?” you asked suddenly, stopping in your tracks.
he sat back, sighing. “was i with anyone when it happened at least? where did they put me?”
you scoffed, “take my advice, do not go out with ginger.”
“ginger?” he raised an eyebrow.
“trust me. just don't do it.” you shook your head, crossing your arms. “you're resting at graceland.”
his lips perked up slightly, “graceland, huh?”
you sat next to him, giving him a small nod. you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your gallery until you came across your own photos at graceland, showing them off to him and swiping through slowly. the photos left elvis speechless, how his family was resting alongside him. he told you various stories as you showed him some of the rooms you got to see and brought up how surprised he was at how much different his home looks now compared to what it was back in the 60s.
elvis week, the birthday celebrations, annual events; he couldn't believe how loved he still was after all these years. you continued to tell him about his fans, records he broke after his passing, how there are literal stores and restaurants just dedicated to him. he sat there in silence, trying to fight back his tears. he was disbelief. “all these years–people still love me? t-they still listen to my music?”
you smiled at him. “more than ever. people of all ages, all over the country. they still love you.”
he shook his head in disbelief, sniffling a little as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “that's crazy.”
“which is why i don't..really think it's a good idea to have you leave. at least not yet. especially with this huge movie that just came out about you-”
“they made a movie?!” he exclaimed, sitting up.
“that’s not the point here! look, i’m gonna have to pick up some things for you and get you a phone which means i’m gonna have to leave you here home alone.” you stood up, hands on your hips. “and i don't exactly trust you with technology just yet.”
elvis scoffed, “i’m not a baby, honey. i can manage on my own. i’ll just read till you come back.”
and you prayed to god that he'd still be there when you got back.
while you searched retail and department stores for whatever you think elvis may enjoy(no jeans, nothing brown, lots of fun colors), elvis took this time to be nosy. to search around your little apartment in beverly hills that looked nothing like what he had back in his tiny world.
he had a one on one staring match with the reflection of what was now called a television. but he had to admit, it’s nice that he can now just watch his favorite movies whenever he wanted in the comfort of well-not his home, but somewhere that didn’t involve a whole process of renting out an entire movie theater. he wondered if the memphian was still around. not to mention, he can watch his favorite shows on a much larger screen and not the small ones he has back at graceland. he still couldn't fully grasp the meaning of streaming. is anyone really ‘streaming’ his old movies and concerts like you mentioned? he found that hard to believe.
then he came across your laptop. of course, not knowing what it was, he opened it, eyes widening in amazement at the lit up screen. “what the hell is a google….” he muttered to himself, eyes squinting as he navigated with the small, touchpad. he tapped on the search bar and looked down at the keyboard. he wanted to search himself so badly, the mystery behind his death and how touchy you were about it just eating him up inside. but it was better to hear it from you. despite only knowing you for a short amount of time, he trusted you more than whatever the hell google was. instead, he opted for typing in ‘time travel’, scoffing at the word fiction being in the definition. “if it ain't real then how did i get here?” he asked to no one.
he ended up reading the entire wikipedia page which was really no help to him. he didn't come by a time machine or a wormhole, just a bunch of big words that gave him no answers. he found the website fascinating though, somehow going from reading about black holes to reading about the history of microwave ovens. but he was still worried about finding himself on there and quickly clicked away.
elvis really didn't mean to pry all that much. he wasn't aware of social media, he didn't know what he was getting himself into when he tapped the little ‘facebook’ bookmark. you did in fact, have an ex. definitely could have done better. he scrolled a bit too far down your profile, coming across a photo of him that you once shared of him in the 70s. “ain't no way that's me….” he said in disbelief, enlarging the photo. “well, i’ll be damned.” he quickly closed out, shutting your laptop and shaking his head.
he looked at the framed photos you had around, studying your family and friends that you seemed to be close to. he was happy to see you had a good relationship with them, family was important to him too.
his lip curled up slightly at the various records you had in the corner, ranging from today’s artists to some of his very own. you'd have to play them for him one day. he hated listening to his own records but he was curious about the ones he had yet to record.
there were so many questions still lingering in his mind, would he even be able to leave the house at all? maybe this was his chance to start over, to have a new life. maybe you were supposed to be his soulmate and that's how he ended up in your presence. or perhaps it's just a wake up call to warn him about his future. who knows, he wish he knew. all he could do was pray and hope for the best.
when you returned, hands full with bags, elvis quickly took them from your hands and set them on the counter. he felt bad about the clothes you bought him and the phone and everything else–he's normally the one to buy people things. however, every piece of clothing, it was so him. you nailed him perfectly.
“–and i know you hate denim, like really hate it. but…” you pulled out a denim jacket from the bag, holding it up. “thought this would look nice on you. but i can always take it back.”
“god, you didn't have to do all this for me…” he said, flustered. “you’re too kind.”
you flashed him a smile, “i’m gonna set up your phone so you can….”
“i opened your…your thing.” he blurted out.
“my thing?”
“yeah…that…that thing.” he said again, pointing at your laptop.
you turned around, glancing at it sitting on the counter. “i didn’t look up myself! swear! i-i did see a photo of me but i quickly clicked away.” he defended, panic in his voice.
“how did you even know how to use it?” you picked up your laptop, putting it away in your bedroom.
“i just…pressed buttons.” he watched you move across the room, eventually sitting down at the counter. “i’m sorry.”
“you get nothing out of being nosy.” you sighed.
elvis was still curious about that photo he saw of himself, keeping his concerns to himself.
he got curiouser and curiouser as the week went on, always waking up in surprise to see he wasn't in his bed. you went back to work and he was stuck at what he now calls home, watching shows you had told him about and eating whatever in the fridge was microwaveable. but he didn't know who he was more interested in; his future or you.
there was something about you that intrigued him. you weren't jumping at him like most fans would do, not a single request from him. every person he’d ever met or become friends with had wanted something from him whether it’d be a new house, a car, an autograph or just money. granted, he left all his money back in memphis along with everything else. ugh, was he going to have to get another id? like people would believe that he was actually elvis presley. you did mention to him that some of his friends were still alive, maybe jerry could help him out. but then again, finding out your best friend who's been dead for over forty years is alive but at the same time not really alive just may be a bit too much for one to handle.
but he missed his home. his bed, his horses, the people he saw every single day. he was never alone. this was almost terrifying for him and he doesn't know how he’s going to continue to deal with being alone for long periods a day while you're gone. he’s a very lonely person in general, but not a day went by when he wasn't with someone. being with someone helped him not get too much in his head; much like what he's doing right now.
why was he here? is this god’s way of punishing him for something? he had plans, he had movies to film, there had to be some sort of explanation. you won't even tell him how he died for christ's sake. there’s something missing, a missing puzzle piece. every single night he now goes to bed wondering if that would be the last time he would ever see your face. he doesn't want to forget you or your face, but he wants to go home.
this was all too much for him. he can’t do this, he can't be here and get attached. nobody is going to believe him if he ever went back, but what if he never goes back? would it be for the better?
so many questions were lingering in his brain, giving him a overwhelming feeling. he felt himself begin to panic, shaking his head as he rested it in his hands. his chest felt heavy, panting and panicking. then his heart began to quicken, making it hard for him to control his own breathing.
“elvis? you still here?”
your voice was muffled, a loud ringing in his ears. “elvis?” he looked at you, panicked with a hand over his chest. “hey, hey. i’m here, what's going on?” you sunk down to your knees, meeting him eye level on the couch. “look at me, deep breaths.”
“i-it's hard, i-i can’t-” he panted.
“yes you can. c’mon breathe with me.” you rested a hand on his knee, taking a deep breath in and then a deep breath out.
he followed and repeated after you, doing it until he could feel his heart beat normally again. “god…i-i…i..” he let out a shaky breath.
“el, i think you just had a panic attack.” you breathed, rubbing his knee softly. “thank god i came home in time.”
there was a look of worry on his face. he couldn't remember the last time he had a panic attack. sure, he had a little bit of anxiety before filming his special but he didn't get that bad. “i’m so scared.” he finally admitted, his voice slightly cracking. “so fuckin’ scared.”
you stood up and sat beside elvis, facing him. “what are you scared of?”
“i don't know.”
you let out a small hum, rubbing his back. “that's okay.” you reassured. “we’ll get through it. i’ll help you. there's a reason why you’re here and we’re gonna figure that out.”
he looked down, nervously picking at his nails and fidgeting with the nonexistent rings on his fingers out of habit. “takin’ up too much space in here.”
“no you're not, elvis. look at me.” you turned his head, his sad eyes locking with yours. “i’m not giving up on you. it's only been a week. we’re just taking this one day at a time.”
for the first time in that week he’d been with you, he got a good look at your eyes. he gave you a soft smile, the infamous half grin you’d see photos of everywhere online. suddenly, he found himself slightly excited. excited to learn about you, your story. you were right, there was a reason he was there with you.
maybe, just maybe, that reason was you.
tags: @elvisalltheway101 @prompted-wordsmith @plasticfantasticl0ver @18lkpeters @notstefaniepresley @presleyenterprise @kiankiwi
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Sonic Adventure 2: Sonadow
Chapter 28: Welcome Home, Sonic.
3 months later, the nurse removed the bandage from Sonic's abdomen and sighed with satisfaction. The wound was healing quickly and looked healthy enough. She then wiped the stickiness from Sonic's fur.
"All right, your skin is clean of infection. You have a good chance to recover," said Nurse Daisy.
"So I'll be okay?" asked Sonic.
"Yes, you'll be fine. Don't worry about it too much," she smiled reassuringly, "the doctor says you're doing really well."
"Thank you," replied Sonic with a huge smile. He couldn't wait for the day when they could finally take him home. It had been 3 months since he was hospitalized after the battle with Eggman. That time he almost died. But now he felt much better. Not only did his wounds heal faster but he also felt better than before! He didn't remember much of what happened after waking up in that strange place, though some memories were left over.
"The doctor will be here for a moment and check how you're doing," announced the nurse as she exited the room. A minute later the door opened again, and Dr. Harrison came to the room carrying a clipboard.
"Hello, Sonic," said Dr. Harrison with a friendly smile.
"Hi, Dr. Harrison," greeted Sonic as he stood up from the bed. "It seems like my wounds are all healed!"
He flexed his arms to demonstrate. Dr. Harrison chuckled and nodded. "I'm glad you are feeling well. Now let's see if we can find out why your body has decided to give you these wounds..." She began scanning Sonic's body with his stethoscope. She took note of every injury. "Well, there doesn't seem to be any obvious cause for this. Your internal organs are fine, so there aren't any problems there, either..."Dr. Harrison moved around and continued her exam.
After completing her examination, she stepped back. "Your health looks great, Sonic. You're free to go," she smiled.
"Great, thanks Doc!" exclaimed Sonic excitedly.
"And I don't want you to rush back into action. Just make sure to rest, eat, and drink a lot," she said as she wrote down a note. "And here's the prescription for some painkillers. They're mild enough that you should feel no pain once you take them." She handed Sonic a note. Sonic thanked her again. As soon as she left, Sonic went to the first floor straight down to the pharmacy and got his prescription.
As he exited the hospital, Rouge was out there waiting for him. She was standing behind her
white Lamborghini while she was surfing her phone. She looked up and grinned at Sonic. "Hey there, blue boy!" she exclaimed cheerfully.
"Hiya, Rouge," said Sonic as he approached her car. After opening the passenger door and getting inside, he sat down next to her. Rogue started driving and departed from the hospital.
"So how are you doing?" asked Sonic.
"Oh, I'm great. How about you?" asked Rouge. Sonic shrugged, "It was boring. I'd been in the hospital for 3 months," he said. "I did some physical therapy during those three months until my belly recovered. It wasn't so bad at first, but it kinda wore me out, even though there weren't any injuries on my body."
"So you're all better?" asked Rouge.
"Yeah, I can't wait to see my friends again!" exclaimed Sonic happily. "I miss 'em, Rouge. I can hardly wait to get home."
Rouge smiled softly. "I know you miss them. Let's go to your house," she suggested as she drove in the direction of Sonic's house. A few minutes later they arrived at the address. Rouge parked her car and they hopped off of it. As Sonic walked to his door, he unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a very crowded living room. They set up "Welcome Home" decorations along with streamers and balloons.
"SURPRISE!!" shouted several people at the same time. Sonic jumped in surprise. The group had surrounded him, congratulating him. "Mr. Sonic! We missed you!" cried Cream. He returned their hugs. Amy and Tails hugged him as well.
"We knew you'd come back! Mr. Sonic, we made cookies! We hope you like chocolate chip!" said Cream.
"Aw, you made those for me? Thank you, Cream!" he said, smiling brightly at the little girl. She smiled back.
Just then the green crocodile named Vector approached him with a big grin. "Hey, Sonic! I heard you've been in the hospital for 3 months and I thought it would be nice to celebrate by having fun together!" He pulled Sonic into a bear hug. Everyone cheered as Vector hugged Sonic tightly. Sonic laughed and returned the hug."Glad you're doing alright, Sonic!" he exclaimed.
"Thanks, man," said Sonic with a big smile. "I'm happy to be home again, just glad to see you guys again," he added. They released each other. Vector put his arm over Sonic's shoulders and the others followed his lead."Let's go to the kitchen, guys. We've got lots of snacks ready!" said Amy.
They had cake, pizza, chips, cookies, juices, and soda. As everyone ate, they talked. There were many things to talk about. They turned on the music to listen to Christina Aguilera singing the song "Genie in a Bottle" as they were dancing to the beat of the music.
Sonic walked to the hallway to see Knuckles leaning against the wall and watching the party. When he noticed Sonic walking toward him, he smiled. "Hey there, blue guy!" he exclaimed happily.
"Hey, Knux!" said Sonic as he greeted Knuckles. Knuckles walked toward him and hugged him. "How's everything going?" he asked. Knuckles shrugged. "Everything's fine. It's great to have you back, Sonic. I missed having you around," he answered. Sonic laughed. "You say that like I was never gone in the first place." Knuckles chuckled and shook his head. "Don't remind me. That was hard to live without you, blue pal."Knuckles nudged shoulder affectionately.
"You know, I'm glad Eggman's in prison. He won't hurt anyone ever again," commented Knuckles.
"Yeah, I guess he'll never touch another piece of property ever again," agreed Sonic. He glanced back to look at the kitchen where the party was happening, "Say, Knux, where's Shadow?" asked Sonic.
"He went outside on the patio," Knuckles pointed with his thumb in the direction. "He didn't feel like dancing or joining them. Maybe he wants to be alone." Knuckles' voice sounded concerned.
"Well, I'll go talk to him and see if he's okay," Sonic said, as he headed out the door. He walked through the garden until he saw Shadow sitting on one of the benches. "Shadow?" he called out softly. Shadow looked up at him and frowned. "Hey, Sonic," he said monotonously. Sonic took a seat beside him.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
Shadow shrugged, "Nothing. I just... wanted some fresh air," he replied calmly, trying not to show any emotion.
"You okay?" asked Sonic.
"Of course, I am," said Shadow.
"You seem awfully quiet. I mean besides your usual cold attitude," said Sonic with concern.
Shadow shook his head, "It's not that. It's just... I'm not the type of person to enjoy parties and such. Parties are loud, and people tend to talk too much. I prefer to stay quiet and watch from afar," explained Shadow quietly, still looking ahead and away from Sonic.
'Man, he's pretty anti-social,' thought Sonic.
"Well, it wouldn't be very polite to stay out here all night anyway. If you don't feel like mingling with the partygoers, then why don't you join us inside instead? It looks like everybody else is enjoying themselves, so you can do the same," suggested Sonic.
Shadow shrugged again, "I suppose so."
They paused for a moment, both lost in thought. Shadow seemed slightly more relaxed, and Sonic was staring at the ground, kicking his legs slightly back and forth. Then Shadow broke the silence.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he asked.
"Sure, what is it?" asked Sonic as he turned his attention to Shadow.
"Why are you being so kind to me? After everything I've done, I would have expected you to hate me and throw me in jail. But you haven't done anything of the sort," Shadow stated curiously.
"Maybe because I respect you. You may have tried to kill me before, but now you've changed. You've gotten rid of the villain persona you've always had. I think you're an amazing person, Shadow," said Sonic.
Shadow nodded, "Thank you. I appreciate your honesty." They fell silent after that. Neither spoke as Sonic kicked his feet back and forth a few more times. Soon Sonic broke the silence.
"Shadow?" he questioned.
"Hm?" responded Shadow.
"Um, you know I can't keep this a secret forever, right? And I need to know how you feel about me," stated Sonic.
"How do you feel about me?" asked Shadow. Sonic smiled. "I love having you around. It's nice being able to have someone who understands me," he said. Shadow raised an eyebrow at this, "Understands you? Like, what do you mean by that?" asked Shadow.
"Well, you're the only one I know who knows about my powers and all that stuff. I just feel comfortable when you're around me," said Sonic.
Shadow smirked and gave a small chuckle, "That is true. But then, you must have known that I'm an Ultimate Lifeform, too."
Sonic sighed, "Yes. But there's something different about you. Like, you're not just a criminal; you're a hero. A real hero. You saved me from Neo Metal Sonic, and you saved my friends. And you know what, you're a good person," said Sonic earnestly.
Shadow blushed slightly under Sonic's words. He hadn't expected such compliments from Sonic. "Thank you, Sonic. I appreciate your honesty," replied Shadow, still blushing.
Sonic giggled lightly at hearing the response and smiled widely, showing his canine teeth, and making Shadow blush even more.
"Sonic?" asked Shadow.
"Yeah, Shadz?" he responded.
He leaned forward and kissed Sonic's lips briefly. Sonic closed his eyes and held Shadow close to him. Their kiss started getting deeper and they soon became closer than ever. Shadow caressed his cheeks with his thumbs. Sonic grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. Eventually, they stopped kissing and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. Sonic smiled and rested his forehead against Shadow's. He looked at Shadow, still holding him by the sides of his neck. The two boys embraced each other once again. Suddenly, the two-tailed fox came outside of the patio.
"Hey, Sonic, we're leaving the party soon. So, maybe we should go in and finish celebrating," he told Sonic. Sonic nodded and reluctantly let Shadow go. Sonic stood up and brushed himself off, grinning. "Come on, let's go inside," he said. He offered Shadow his hand helped him get back to his feet and went inside.
After the party, they started cleaning up his house and they started to leave. They waved goodbye to each other. "Bye, Sonic. See you soon," said Amy and she went outside the house with the others. Sonic waved as well.
Shadow was about to leave, but he had to tell Sonic something. "Oh, um, before I go, I have this brochure in my mailbox," he handed this brochure to Sonic, he opened it, and read the contents.
"Shangri-La Hotel?" Sonic repeated, "Isn't that a resort hotel or something?"
"It is," affirmed Shadow, "but I think it would be fun to stay at a place like that. What do you think?"
Shadow asked Sonic with a little smile.
Sonic looked into Shadow's eyes and smiled back, "Yeah, that sounds great!"
"Great, I'll hit up the front desk and arrange transportation," said Shadow excitedly.
"Thanks, Shadz. I'll rest up for a couple of days until my pain is gone," said Sonic.
Shadow nodded and kissed Sonic's cheek, "See you later, Sonic."
"Later, Shadz," smiled Sonic. He watched as Shadow left the house, he closed the door and went up to the bathroom. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, and went to bed to sleep it off.
#fanfiction#sonic adventure 2#shadow the hedgehog#sonadow#sonic the hedgehog#enemies to lovers#first kiss#yaoi bl#first love#first sex
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Em!! Any update on your fic updates? So excited for next chapters !(but no pressure to write if you are busy!)
Hi hi!!! I would love to say it's coming really really soon but I said that a week ago and it definitely turned into a lie dfjkdfjdfkjdfk I can really just tell you it's at 9500K and there are about two or three scenes left before it's officially ready to edit, so it's just a matter of finding the time. Unfortunately I've been really busy at work and am kind of just mentally dead when I come home every night, but I'm hoping I'll have more energy soon <333 the good news is the one AFTER this is actually in pretty good shape, so the wait after this current chapter is up hopefully will be shorter!
Thanks for checking in! Excerpt under the cut for your patience <3
He’s roused from sleep by a rustling, and when he opens one eye it’s to see Lando digging through a bag of crisps, the sound cutting through the dull roars of the engines. Charles' AirPods are still playing the audio from the screen, the rolling lull of a language he doesn’t know making his eyes droop again. He has the subtitles in English because Max had been watching over his shoulder (and studiously pretending he wasn't), but one glance tells him Max has since fallen dead asleep, his mouth open as he lets out tiny snores.
Will you accept this gift? The screen reads.
You found me a gift? I had been going to get you one. I was waiting to find the perfect thing. You’re always quicker than me.
I am just impatient. Omegas can be impatient too.
Well don’t you want the perfect gift?
Perfect? No. You are perfect for me. I don’t need a perfect gift. I just want you.
Charles is suddenly wide awake. Hauling himself out of the soft pit that is his seat, he stumbles to his feet and toward the forward cabin door. It’s dark, beyond—everyone is asleep.
“Yuki,” he hisses. It’s too dark. Oscar is awake, leaning against the one open window while he messes with Lando’s Switch. He points toward the front.
Yuki is sprawled upright on the sofa, Pierre somehow tucked under his arm with his knees hanging off the armrest. It’s Pierre who wakes up first, giving Charles a sleepy glare. Not to be dissuaded, Charles pokes at the top of Yuki’s head.
“Yuki,” he hisses again. “Wake up.”
“What?” Yuki mutters, then grimaces, a hand thrown over his face. Pierre’s eyes close again, though his frown lingers.
“Omegas court Alphas here, right?” Charles whispers.
“Omegas court Alphas everywhere,” Yuki replies. He stretches one leg out, then groans. “I know Monaco is full of old rich people who do not think this way, but you should know this. You are very well traveled.”
“I do,” Charles says, affronted. “I do know that. How do you…what kinds of things do you buy for alphas?”
“You do not actually want to know what I bought for Pierre,” Yuki says, a lazy smirk creeping onto his face.
“No. But how do you–-what kinds of things do they like?”
“Charlo,” Pierre says, a growl hidden somewhere under his voice, his frown deepening. “You are not seriously asking this right now. We are sleeping.”
“You are clearly awake.”
“Just get him things that make you think of him,” Yuki says, clearly taking pity on him. “You will think of something. It is not hard.”
“I am not good with gifts.”
“That is a lie,” Pierre says. “Now fuck off.”
“Pierre, you are being a little mean,” Yuki says softly.
“Yukino, I am very tired.”
Charles huffs, frustrated. “I will ask you about this again,” he warns, then takes his cue and fucks off.
Tucked into his own row next to the door, Daniel wiggles his eyebrows at him as Charles makes his way back to the aft cabin. “I got Michael a rockmelon,” he whispers as Charles passes him.
Charles pauses. “What?”
“Rockmelon. Cantaloupe–whatever. They’re his favorite. It was perfectly ripe. The lady at the stall helped me pick it. Best one we’d ever tasted.”
He leans against the doorframe, lingering. It’s a good courting gift—thoughtful, special, highly unique, missing the pressure that can come from something too expensive. Max doesn’t particularly like cantaloupe, though. “What else did you get him?”
“I won Monza for him.”
That’s a good gift too. Again, not something Max would particularly appreciate.
“You’ll think of something,” Daniel soothes, sensing his growing distress. “Max is crazy about you, and the thought behind it is what matters, anyway.”
“Everyone thinks I am courting Max,” Charles grumbles. “I am just asking.”
Daniel’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. “Yeah, you burst in here with drool on your shirt and shake Yuki awake because you’re just asking. Who else would you be courting?”
Charles shakes his head. He slips back through the door and back into the comforting hush of the aft cabin. Max is still dead asleep, curled up in his oversized chair. Charles wants to climb onto his lap, or find a way to tuck himself in at his side. He’s pretty sure they would both fit. The chairs are soft and wide, and the cushions have a lot of give to them. He wants to wake him even less, though—knows he needs the sleep—so he returns to his own seat, feet tucked in, and stares blankly at the program still playing on the screen while he thinks about cantaloupes and trophies and a hundred other things that could do the job, but don’t seem quite right.
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"Tell it to the Frogs" Pt.2
Later that night, Most of the group gathers by a fire that was set up,Rick is sitting with Carl in his lap. Lori is sitting close, her hands in Carl’s hair. Rick begins to explain his side of the story “Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented Fear, confusion – all those things but Disoriented comes closest”. “Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short.” Said Dale, Rick goes on to explain more “I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever.”Carl looks up at his father. “Mom said you died.” the young boy states, Lori lays her hand on Carl’s forehead. She doesn’t speak. Rick reassures Carl “She had every reason to believe that. Don’t you ever doubt it.” Shane doesn’t speak. Nearby, Ed puts another log on his fire. Shane walks over and has to tell Ed the rule of the camp once more, Ed does not care and has his wife Carol take care of it. Shane thanks him sarcastically and checks up on Carol and her daughter Sofia, once he’s done that Shane rejoins the other group. Dales decides to address the elephant in the room, “Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” T-Dog speaks up “I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” Rick shakes his head “I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Glenn cuts in “Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” T-Dog looks at Glenn “I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” Amy tries to offer a solution: “We could lie.” Andrea tells it as it is “Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's.” Dale looks at her wide-eyed “And that's what we tell Daryl? I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? Word to the wise… We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt.” I’ll tell him” Bow finally speaks up, and all heads turn to her,” It will come better from me” She insists. “She’s right, she has grown the closest to the Dixons” Lori agrees. “Besides I know what happened I can try and make Daryl understand” “I’m sorry how do you know what happened I don’t remember seeing you there?” Rick asks, Bow takes a deep breath in preparing to explain “I’m a mutant, I can read minds and manipulate the world around me to a certain degree” Bow decides to demonstrate for Rick so she enters his mind and speaks to him, “kinda like this officer friendly”. Rick looks at her with surprised eyes “The hell?” he questions out loud. Bow smirks at him “It’s cool isn’t it dad?” Carl asks with an amused smile and laugh. Pretty soon everyone decides to hit the hay early. Bow however could find no sleep, her heart broke for Daryl, she knew that even though Merle was a dick sometimes, the Dixon brothers still loved each other and were the only family they had left. Bow finally gave in to sleep, knowing she’d need it for the fresh hell that was gonna be unleashed tomorrow. The next morning everyone was up early doing their normal task, Bow was helping Carol with laundry when they saw Rick come out of his tent. “Mornin’ officer friendly, have a nice sleep?” Bow asks “Yea better than I’ve had in a long time.” Rick replies, Carol comes up to Rick with his clothes “They're still a little damp. The sun'll have 'em dry in no time.” Rick looks at her surprised “You washed my clothes Carol nods “Well, best we could. Scrubbing on a washboard ain't half as good as my old Maytag back home.” Rick shakes his head “That's very kind. Thank you.” Rick walks away to see what the other members are up to. Suddenly, the group hears screaming...
#daryl dixon x oc#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon#the walking dead#twd fanfiction#the archer and his bow#season 1
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Connor makes a late night call.
Pardon any errors.
Connor is in New Bordeaux, awaiting the events of Stones Unturned to start. He's alone one night, and the heat is keeping him awake. He walks a couple blocks away from where he's staying and slips into a phonebooth. He checks his watch, trying to decide if he thinks Genevieve's awake back at home. She's two hours behind him. He shrugs before picking up the receiver and putting some money in.
It takes her a couple of rings to answer.
"Hello? Aldridge residence,' She tried to stifle a yawn, 'Genevieve speaking." She sounded tired. Connor almost debates hanging up.
"Gen, sorry to wake you."
"Connie? Is everything okay?" She sounds more awake, more alert.
"Yes. Everything's fine. Just wanted to check in. Sorry, I couldn't sleep." A small smile slips onto his face. If this was any other time prior to him having to be gone for such a long time, prior to him coming home and leaving again, she would have replied with a snippy comment about how it's not like she was sleeping or anything. By the time they got married, she was very comfortable with him and rarely shy when they were alone. He misses that. She's overly sweet right now, missing him and making up for it, he supposes.
"You're fine. Everything's good here. We, uh, went on a hike today. As per your children's request. I wanted to stay and read, but you know how they are." She let out a small half-hearted chuckle. She's still too tired to be on the phone.
He tried to think of what to say, but he doesn't know how they are. Being gone for nearly a decade will do that. He hated that he is away from them now, again. How defeated Genevieve looked when he said he was leaving again. She didn't want to argue, not with him just coming back only a few months before. It wasn't worth it, so she didn't say much at all.
"Genny?"
"Mmhm?"
"Tell the kids I miss 'em okay? I'll be back soon, and everything'll be worth it." He found himself feeling anxious, a foreign feeling to him.
"Okay, Connor. I will. Try to get some sleep."
"I will. I love you."
"Uh huh. I love you too. And you're sure everything's okay? Something feels..."
"Everything is fine, Gen."
"Hm, okay. The kids love you too."
"See you when I get home."
"Uh huh." He heard her try stifle a yawn again as she hung up. He sighed.
This better be worth it. He should be at home with his wife and kids instead of doing this. He wished he was home. Next to his wife in bed, sleeping in a much cooler room. Sweat had beaded along his hairline, and he used his arm to wipe some of it away. Home would be better than this.
He put the phone back and left the booth, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one as he slowly made his way back to his room. This will be worth it, he thought to himself. Because it has to be. Something has to make this absence mean something.
#stevie.txt#text#stevie writes#m*fia game#connor aldridge#genevieve rivera#sorry if this is incoherent#i miss these two SO MUCH
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1.) I'll dislike it if it turns out that Best Jeanist is still alive since I don't see a scenario where Hawks not killing him makes sense, unless of course if it turns out that it was all staged before hand for the villains (for some reason). The reason why I think this is that Hawks pulled out his swords on BJ after saying "how unfortunate" when BJ say's he'll be going public again. To me this reads as the equivalents as you and a "friend" being together alone in your home.
see, I see it differently. to me, what doesn’t make sense is for Horikoshi to not show us the conclusion of that flashback scene even after Hawks kills Twice. like, if he originally intended for it to build up suspense at the start of this arc, back when we weren’t sure whether or not Hawks would go through with it, that’s one thing. that actually played out beautifully. but to leave Jeanist’s fate up in the air even after Twice’s death makes no sense to me in a scenario where Jeanist is actually dead. at that point there’s no reason to keep it hidden anymore. we know Hawks is a murderer; we know how far he’s willing to go to complete his mission. so at that point there’s no longer any narrative purpose in leaving it ambiguous, right?
like, so we’ve got this mystery. did Hawks kill Jeanist or not? and there are only two possible outcomes. either the twist is that he did kill him, thus stunning the readers with the reveal that a hero would actually go so far as to kill another hero; or the twist is that he didn’t kill him, in which case the payoff comes later, when Jeanist makes a surprise entrance revealing that he’s still very much alive.
as far as the first of those two outcomes is concerned, there’s no longer any reason to keep Jeanist’s death a “secret” now if that’s the case. we’ve already seen his body. we’ve already seen Hawks kill someone else. what possible reason is there for Horikoshi to still be cryptic about it? we already know he’s not above showing us VERY detailed and gory and plain fucked-up things in character flashbacks, so it’s not like he’s barred from showing it to us because it’s too controversial or disturbing. there is just no reason I can think of why he would be so deliberately wishy-washy about it for so long only to have the eventual twist be “yes actually he really has been dead this whole time.”
but if the payoff is instead meant to be “surprise he’s actually alive!!”, then it makes perfect sense to not reveal it beforehand. in this case Twice’s death only adds to the twist and makes it that much more of a surprise. and imo it’s a much more satisfying outcome, and much more consistent with what we know about Hawks’s character. there’s all this talk about how this twist makes him “less morally gray”, as if moral ambiguity is something all characters should aspire to, but what this shows instead is that his morals are consistent, which is much more important to character-building in the long run. Hawks is someone who can see and understand the big picture and figure out the best action to take for the objective, logical greater good. but he is also someone who’s still fueled by his emotions enough that he’ll put the Greater Good at risk in order to try and do what he thinks is the right thing. and so he almost blows his cover at Fukuoka because he helps Endeavor battle the High End Noumu, and he does blow his cover at Gunga Mountain and is nearly killed by Dabi because he tries to arrest and capture Twice rather than killing him. it’s not until he has no other choice that he finally does the deed, and he pays dearly for it.
it is entirely in character for Hawks, when faced with a situation where the Greater Good requires him to make a sacrifice that doesn’t sit right with his conscience, to instead attempt some risky and convoluted “fuck it, let’s see if we can fool ‘em” solution which puts the whole operation at risk, but which allows him to spare the life of a man who’s done nothing wrong. the hubris of Hawks’s character is that because he’s so clever and is usually one step ahead of everyone else, he tries to have it both ways, and attempts to simultaneously stick to his principles and be faithful to his mission, and eventually that’s what does him in. you can’t be a walking, talking Icarus allegory and not expect your wings to eventually be burned off by the metaphorical sun.
anyway. so this outcome ultimately makes a whole lot more sense to me, ngl. as for why Hawks pulled out his feather sword when he was talking to Jeanist, I don’t know! we literally cut off right after that! almost as if whatever action or line of dialogue immediately followed that scene would have explained everything, and so is being withheld from us for exactly that reason lmao. it absolutely is a very odd thing to do while chatting with your friend; but speaking of said chat, let’s take another look at the dialogue here.
Jeanist says he’s planning to step back into the public eye shortly, and Hawks replies with, “that’s too bad.” of course we’re immediately meant to jump to the conclusion of “WTF, JEANIST, RUN,” but there’s another possible interpretation, which is that Hawks is apologizing because he’s about to explain to Jeanist that he’s gonna have to put a rain check on those plans. the sword might simply be his not-so-subtle way of saying “okay you better listen up you beautiful bedenimed man, because shit’s about to get real, and you’re either going to have to go along with the completely ridiculous plan that I am about to propose, or else I am going to have to straight up kill you, which I do not under any circumstances want to do.”
at which point Jeanist is presumably all “okay calm down kid wtf”, and Hawks proceeds to explain how they’re gonna take some random John Doe body from the county morgue and have one of the HPSC’s people use their quirk to transform the body into a perfect clone of Jeanist using a sample of Jeanist’s DNA or something. or whatever secret agent bullshit they pulled out of a hat in order to fool Dabi and the rest of the League. only we don’t see any of it, because Horikoshi does not want us to see any of it, because it would have removed too much of the tension and suspense from the Hawks spy arc.
this to me makes sense. it makes sense with what we know of Hawks’s character, and doesn’t sacrifice all of the work that Horikoshi put into writing his arc for the sake of cheap shock value. it builds on the conflict between Hawks’s own personal morals and the things he is asked to do by the HPSC for the sake of the Greater Good that don’t always sit well with him. it leaves room for the continuation of that arc as more of the HPSC’s secrets come to light, and as the heroes face widespread criticism in the wake of the Jakku disaster, which seems more and more inevitable. and, as a bonus, it provides an unexpected yet plausible last minute save for the heroes against Gigantomachia and Tomura and the rest. because it’s honestly going to take a miracle for them to make it out otherwise at this point lol.
anyway, so I think it works! we’re still missing some pieces here obviously, but all in all I’m more than willing to give Horikoshi the benefit of the doubt until he fills us in on whatever we’ve missed. I just wish we didn’t have to wait two weeks until the next chapter yet again sob, but such is manga-reading life.
#bnha 288#hawks#best jeanist#bnha meta#hawks meta#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#asks#anon asks#long post
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Valium (chapter one)
@the-moon-without-world you requested this fanfic to be written! This fic is set for early to mid season two and entails an AU of Jane having night terrors so Borden prescribes her Valium to help her sleep but one particularly bad night she gets absolutely no sleep and decides to take the Valium in the morning before work which inevitably leads to Kurt finding Jane in her safehouse on the floor high out of her mind! (This fic is angst, comfort, and fluff, OH and how could I forget crack!!) Enjoy!!
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It's a particularly cold September morning. Jane had been back with the team for four months and they had finally found some kind of normal. Nas on the other hand could be pretty hard to work with.
It was officially 8am and Reade, Tasha, Patterson, Nas, and Kurt were all at their respective 'biomes' within the NYO. But Jane... Jane was nowhere to be found.
"I already tried, it goes straight to voicemail everytime." Kurt says agitatedly. He and Nas had just walked into his office continuing their conversation from Patterson's lab.
"Look Kurt chances are that Sandstorm may have grabbed her." Nas replies desperately trying to keep up with Kurt's pace.
Kurt walked behind his office desk.
"And that doesn't concern you?!"
"She's doing the job we asked her to do!" Nas yelled.
"I'm done arguing with you."
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Kurt shrugged on his jacket and tried to walk past Nas before she grabbed his arm.
"Let. Me. Go."
"Why? So you can go make sure your girlfriend is alright?"
Kurt pulled his arm out from her and clenched his jaw. Not entertaining her, he tried to calmly answer.
"Nas-"
"What?! I was in bed with you last night and now this morning you're willing to put the biggest case of your life at risk to make sure another woman is okay!"
"You really want to do this here?"
"You're doing this on your own Kurt."
"Fine if you wanna talk we can talk." Kurt reached behind his desk and in a file to pull out a micro transparent listening device. "We can talk about that. You've been spying on me and my team for God knows how long and you expect me to care when you get jealous over Jane?"
Nas tried to reason with him but was getting nowhere, especially now. He was shutting down... Well more like shutting her out. She needed to change tactics. And fast.
"You are going to get her killed."
"What?" Kurt glared.
"You going to her safehouse to check on her will most definitely tip Sandstorm off and you will be the sole reason that she is killed! When she signed up for this operation she knew the risks-"
"How do you know Sandstorm has her?" Kurt questioned and slightly stepped closer towards Nas.
"What?"
"What if they don't have her? Have you thought about that?"
"That would be great, then she would come in eventually."
"Eventually?! You don't care about her at all do you? Your only concern is this mission!"
Kurt made a beeline for his office door.
"Kurt wait!"
The door was slightly cracked before he stopped.
"No nas, I'm done. I can't do this. Your blatant disregard for the safety of my team, you hiding things from me, bugging our offices, I'm done." With that said Kurt walked out of his office and headed straight for the SIOC elevator.
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It was a particularly hard night. It was the worst night. Shortly after escaping the blacksite, in Oregon, the nightmares came. But recently, as if they weren't bad enough, they've evolved into fully fledged night terrors. After going three consecutive days with only two hours of sleep per, she consulted Borden who prescribed her Valium to help her sleep and it worked.
Until last night.
Jane had taken her normal dose and fallen asleep within a half hour like normal. But not even twenty minutes later her protective detail, which had been immediately reassigned to her once she returned, had rushed into her safehouse because they heard gut-wrenching screams from within. Upon realization they carefully, but definitely panicked, tried to wake her. Once they succeeded their first instinct was to call Weller and update him but she begged them not to, and after seeing her in such an awful state they decided against it. Rationalizing with the sense that she wasn't in any actual danger so what need would they have to wake their boss up in the middle of the night?
Right?
Eventually Jane tried to fall back asleep, to no avail as within forty-five minutes her detail was back in her room. After that Jane realized that she wasn't going to get any more sleep and instead started to distract herself. She exercised, drew, cooked (ish), and showered.
Once five-am rolled around Jane thought to take matter into her own hands. She needed sleep! She opened her prescription bottle, got out three times her prescribed dosage, threw her head back, and popped 'em in.
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Kurt had taken the Lexus and parked about three blocks from Jane's safehouse because whether he wanted to admit it or not, Nas was right Sandstorm could definitely see him coming to Jane's safehouse as a huge red flag and decide to "cut their losses".
While walking Kurt shot Jane a quick text to let her know that he would be coming through her back door.
No answer.
He slid open her back door and immediately closed it once he was inside.
"Jane?"
He took a couple steps deeper into the house silently praying that she didn't just oversleep.
Then he saw her.... Well her hair, she was covered by the small coffee table in Kurt's direct sight line. She seemed to be laying on the ground in... The middle of her living room?
Kurt side stepped the coffee table, his first instinct being to check for injuries. He took a couple more steps before turning completely around.
OH MY GOD SHE'S NAKED!
Kurt said internally.
"Jane what are you doing?!" She obviously wasn't injured or distressed. This just kept more and more bizarre.
"Shhhhhhhh!"
"Excuse me?" Kurt said still turned around.
"Shhhh this is Jane's calm zone."
"Your what?"
"Shhhhhhh!"
What is wrong with her? Is she sick? No she's not coughing, or sneezing, or sweating, panting, moaning.....
Weller oh my God this is serious, get your mind out of the gutter!
Kurt scolded himself.
Okay okay okay so she's naked, on the floor, engaging in odd behaviors, and talking strangely..... Oh God.
"Jane are you high?"
"Ohhhh yeahhh."
Jane giggles and lightly snorts.
"Most definitely."
Sh*t.
"Okay then what are you on?"
"These little pills called Vaseline. Uh- no umm like valentine...valet??? Viola... Things."
"Valium?"
"YEAH! You're so smart, my next guess was Voldemort."
"Where did you get them from?"
"Th- that british guy, who's kind of hot."
Borden.
What am I supposed to do with her? She obviously can't go to work.
Kurt looks over his shoulder to see Jane "stargazing" at her popcorn ceiling.
"Look Kurt I found the big dipper!"
"Jane it's 11am and you're inside!"
Ugh God. Okay first and foremost I need to get her off the floor, into some clothes, fed, and then straight to sleep. Then contact my team to let them know I'll be taking the day and so will Jane. Optics be dam*ed, she needs me. And after Jane wakes up we are going to have a serious talk. Okay let's move.
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Later at SIOC.
"Guys it's Weller!" Patterson yelled signaling for Reade, Zapata, and Nas to follow her to the center console of her lab.
"You're on speaker."
"Is everyone there?" Kurt asked.
"Yep you got all of us." Tasha answered.
"Great. Jane and I are taking the day off. She has a couple of... issues to work out, to say the least, but we'll be back tomorrow."
No-one of the team dared to question this initiative, so Kurt started to delegate.
"No field-work is done without my say-so. Patterson you are in charge of any and all investigative work involving the tattoos. Nas the same instructions go for you except with the Sandstorm case. Tasha-" Kurt was cut off by a loud crash in the background.
"Yes?" Tasha responded.
"Hold on." Kurt walked from his "pacing spot" in Jane's living room to see Jane on her counter top with five porcelain, easily breakable, plates in her hands. "Jane, get down from there! What are you doing?" Kurt approached her slowly. She threw another plate at the wall mimicking the crash from earlier.
"Borden says channeling your anger is good for you!"
Jane says as she breaks another plate.
"I'm pretty sure this isn't what he meant!"
Another plate.
"Jane! Okay okay okay, why are you angry?"
"Because you made me put on clothes!"
She says throwing a plate towards Kurt who just barely dodged it.
"Um-" Kurt sputters fully aware that he's still on speaker phone, and the entire team can most definitely hear this conversation.
"WHAT IF I WANT TO BE A NUDIST HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THAT? HUH KURT!"
"Jane please get off the counter."
Kurt rubs his temple then brings the phone back up to his ear.
Tasha and Reade are equally stunned and confused, Patterson is trying her hardest to stifle her laughter, while Nas is completely unamused.
"Trouble in paradise?" Reade asked.
Patterson and Tasha back away from the console and cover their mouths to not let Weller hear their laughter.
"Very funny." Kurt says and rolls his eyes.
"Okay seriously what is going on? Why is Jane talking like that? And is she okay?" Tasha questions back to back.
"Oh-My-God." Patterson says, in complete Patterson fashion, wheels turning in her brain so fast you can almost see them. "She's high."
Tasha, Reade, and Nas collectively turn to look at Patterson.
"No... No way. Jane is way too hyper-focused on this to be on something." Reade tries to rationalize.
Kurt rubs his temple again.
"Look Jane and I are taking the day, Patterson you have tattoos, Nas you have Sandstorm, Tasha you're on approvals and clearances that anyone may need from me today, and Reade you get the fun job... Paperwork!" Kurt jokes (a rare occurrence really).
"Oh come on!" Reade exclaims.
The team, even Nas, chuckles while they hear another crash from the other side of the phone.
"Jane I swear to God if you throw ONE MORE PLATE!" Kurt directs his attention back to his team. " Ok everyone I really need to go. I'll see you all tomorrow."
"What about Jane?" Tasha asks.
"Let me worry about her."
"Well at very least try not to get a concussion." Reade quips.
"I'm hanging up now."
"Wait!" Patterson says.
"Yeah?"
"Don't think I don't notice."
"Excuse me?"
" Okay okay okay? You're taking a couple of pages out of my book! I'm actually quite flattered." Patterson smirks.
Kurt lets out a light chuckle.
"I think we all have actually. I heard Reade say 'opposite opposite' the other day!"
"Oh really!"
"Hey! We were supposed to keep that between us!" Reade jokingly scolds Kurt.
"I really have to go now, I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Kurt hangs up.
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Once Jane ran out of plates Kurt looped his arms around her knees and pulled her forward so she would fall over his shoulder. Then he calmly walked her back to her bedroom, where he thought she had been sleeping, and layed her down.
It would have been awkward to carry Jane to bed in only a shirt and panties in a completely platonic way, if he hadn't already done it three other times already. And counting. Plus he was glad (somewhat disappointed, if we're being honest) that she even kept on that much. Trying to control Jane had always been hard even when she first came out of that bag in Times Square, let alone now!
Kurt tucked her in for the fourth time today.
"Now Jane, I really need you to stay in bed this time okay?"
When Jane didn't acknowledge him, Kurt sighed and climbed into the other half of her bed to lay down.
"Whatareyou-"
"We are taking a nap!"
Jane gasps. "A Jeller sleepover!"
"Jeller?" Kurt chuckles.
"It's Jane and Weller, I made it up a longggg time ago."
He's gotta admit that when she's not a royal pain "high Jane" was actually pretty funny.
It seems as though having a "Jeller sleepover" was a perfect idea because once she grabbed Kurt's midsection, intertwined her bare legs with his,and snuggled up with him she immediately started dozing off.
That's when Kurt started asking questions. He figured that the best time to try and get any useful information out of her would be now, at her most vulnerable, high and tired.
"Jane?"
"Hmmm?" Jane basically hummed, her voice almost completely back to normal.
She readjusted her 'snuggling grip' around Kurt, holding him tighter. Kurt couldn't stop the butterflies he got from the gesture.
"What did you want to ask?"
He didn't want to ask her why she needed the pills. He wanted her to confide in him with that information, not scheme it out of her. Only when she's completely competent and sober will he ask her that.
"How long have you been taking Valium?"
"About four months, I think?"
Four months. So as soon as she got back from the black site, almost half a year and I had no idea.
"Can I go to sleep now?" Jane said with almost childlike innocence.
Kurt hated to deny her anything but he needed answers.
"Two more questions okay?" He stroked her hair then quickly took his hand away.
"Okay." Jane nuzzled her head into his chest.
More butterflies.
Kurt cleared his throat to compose himself.
"Earlier, when you were on the counter you said that Borden told you that you needed to get your anger out."
Jane yawned.
"Yeah, he said breaking things is a normal coping mechanism with PTSD, and actually one of the least destructive ones compared to drinking."
"Hmmm."
She has PTSD??? Of course she has PTSD she was in a freaking blacksite for three months what did you expect? And you didn't even check in on her.
"Ok last one, you said earlier that you were utilizing your "Jane calm zone". What is that?"
Jane closed her eyes.
"It's where it's quiet." Jane looked up at Kurt for the first time since he got in her bed.
"My thoughts swirl around my head all day unwantedly. They distract me, all the time. Sometimes I can't think because they're screaming. So I imagine a calm place,it's different everytime. The setting doesn't really matter, I just need quiet."
Kurt just stared at her. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that definitely wasn't it. He thought her "calm place" was just a direct hallucination from the Valium, but to know she actually uses it to.... Quiet her thoughts.
He shivered.
"Go to sleep now Jane."
He stroked her hair again. He's been refraining from touching her. High or not he would still be holding her in bed, but he was exhausted. So what the h*ll he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer than she was holding him. It felt better than it should.
He was still actively ignoring his feelings about Jane but he wasn't mad at her anymore. They could even laugh and joke sometimes. He wanted to be there for her. Now more than ever. She needed him, whether she would be able to even remember today or not, she needed him.
Within two minutes of them holding each other they were both in a deep sleep. That couldn't last long enough.
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#chapter two???#i hope you guys like it#I love you all sooooo much!#This was a little too fun to write#Valium#Valium chapter one
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Fox McCloud of Kongo Bongo Part 1
Hello, beautiful friends. I'm simul-posting this silly fanfic idea I had for a while now. Cause Fox McCloud X Tiny Kong content doesn't exist except for the content I made myself, so I'm making a fic dedicated to my silly Sword & Planet doodle I did some months back.
With all that said, I hope you all enjoy, and sorry for any spelling and grammar faults. I'll fix them after the post if someone points 'em out to me, but this fic is being written by the seat of my pants and pretty casually.
The Lylat System was quiet. It had been a short year since the return of Andross when Fox McCloud and the Star Fox team had stopped Andross from destroying Corneria and taking over the system. Fox McCloud, leader of Team Star Fox, was piloting his Arwing past Sector X. The strange nebula was once the secret base for Andross and his operations during the First Lylat War, but now the odd cosmic cloud in the shape of a cross was just a quiet landmark through the system. At least, so it should.
[This is Pepper. Come in, Fox.]
Fox gave a tired grunt, losing his concentration and focus as he reached for the communicator strapped to his head and flipped it on. "You're clear, Peppy."
[Are ya seein' anything there, Fox?]
"That's a negative." Fox said as he checked his instruments again. "I'm still getting those weird readings that Slippy picked up, but I'm not seeing anything."
[Ya shoulda waited at the Great Fox like I told ya, Fox.]
Fox gave a roll of his eyes as he said, "Peppy, stop worrying so much." After the return of Andross every low life of the system seemed to go into hiding. True peace was still out of reach, and there was always work for the members of Team Star Fox, but finding any big named criminals who tried to fill the same niche Andross were hard to come by. In a way, Fox didn't like this; as a mercenary, he lived to fight. Was it wrong to think that way? Most certainly; peace in the Lylat System, where no little kid lost their father like he did, was the ultimate goal. But he needed food on the table like anyone else did.
[Wolf O'Donnell is still at large, Fox. He could be setting up a trap for ya.]
Cap'n Wolf O'Donnel, the name rang in Fox's ear. He could still see the burning, red scar on that wolf's face, the yellow of his eyes burning into his own. Out of all the mercenaries Andross hired to take him and Miyu out, Wolf was probably the best. His equal in almost every way and nearly sent him to his doom. It was the most intense fight Fox had ever been in; for the first time in his life, Fox truly feared that he was gonna die.
And yet, ever since then, there's been a hole in his chest that he couldn't quiet fill.
"If Wolf's out there, then I'll be ready for him."
[Fox, you're-]
"End transmission." Fox didn't wait for a reply, turning off his head piece. He wasn't in the mood to keep listening to Peppy badger him over this; besides, if Wolf was out here, then he would've shown his face by now, right? There wasn't anywhere to hide in Sector X, it wasn't anything by burning gas and bright light.
"One more pass around." Fox told himself, initiating another scan. If nothing was here, then he should turn back and head back for the Great Fox. At least, that's what he should do, but he was in no real rush to make it back to Peppy and listen to him nag his ear off. He cruised around Sector X thinking about how he'd rather go to Titania. There's a nice little saloon there, perfect place to refuel his Arwing and drink his problems away. Just the thought of Titania ale was tempting Fox to ditch his mission. It was weird; he wasn't much of a drinker before, by after the first Lylat War, he grew a taste for alcohol.
Suddenly, Fox jerked the controls on his Arwing, suddenly him into a dive just in time to avoid a photon shot. His instincts kicked in just in time, but where the hell did that come from?! He looked on his radar, seeing nothing, but then looked to see an incoming transmission message. He didn't even patch it through or have the chance to reject the message when a scarred face appeared on screen.
"Hello, pup."
"Wolf!" Fox growled as he glanced up, seeing the lone, quad-wing ship cut through the unforgiving void as he rocketed right for the vulpine pilot. Fox bared his fangs, starting to charge right for Wolf like a demented game of chicken. "I knew you were skulking about these parts!"
"And I knew you'd come with the right bait." Wolf chuckled, his shields deflecting Fox's photon shots as he fired back with his own. "And now it's time I pay back the debt I racked up back on Macbeth."
With some expert barrel rolls, Fox was able to deflect Wolf's own shots, the two ships crossing the other's paths.
"Not to mention I'm paying you back for killing the rest of my team." Wolf snarled, spinning his ship around and beginning to chase Fox through space. His ship let out rapid volleys of hot orange shots on Fox's tail, but Fox managed to evade each shot. Fox could feel Wolf gritting his teeth as he managed to evade each shot. It was like Fox had eyes on the back of his head and Wolf couldn't get a clean shot!
[Fox, come in! Fox! Fox, answer me!]
Meanwhile, Fox couldn't shake Wolf from his tail; it was like Wolf was glued on! He tried to perform a somersault, but Wolf was right behind him, gunning for his engines. He felt his air form a lump in his throat; Wolf was giving him no chance to breath or get any space to counter attack.
"Get back here, brat!" Wolf called out, but Fox was too focused to be distracted or baited by the bounty hunter.
[H-hey! F-Fox, can you hear-ribbit?!]
"Want me?! Come and get me!" Fox called back at Wolf. With a well-timed barrel role, he deflected Wolf's volley of shots and slammed the breaks. Wolf flew right past him and was reading right for the burning mass that was Sector X before Fox chased Wolf down. Now that the tables had turned, Fox was going for the kill, charging up a photon shot that he aimed right for Wolf's engine, prepared to finish off his rival once and for-
[HEY GENIUS! WHAT ARE YA DOIN'?! GET OUTTA THERE!]
Falco's shrieking in Fox's ear piece made him release his shot just before the charge was done, nailing Wolf right in the back of his ship, just missing his engine. Wolf started to climb up and get away, but Fox was more focused on the ringing in his ear. It felt like a siren was blaring with how loud it was.
"...Wait, that's not my ear." Fox flinched as he looked at his were going crazy! Before he could decipher what was happening, a sudden, brighter light came from Sector X. In the center of the nebula's glowing cross appeared,a void of purple light that began to swell and open up.
"A Worm Hole!" Fox realized it too late! He tried to pull away, but this Worm Hole was sucking him in! His controls were starting to lock up; try as Fox might, but he couldn't escape the gravity field the Worm Hole was projecting! It was like a hand had grabbed his ship and started to pull him in by force!
"What is this?! I can't get away!" Wolf shouted, doing no better as his ship was being lured right into the vortex as well.
Fox couldn't think; Wolf's screaming and the Arwing blaring were growing more and more distant as they fell closer to the Worm Hole. His life was starting to flash before his eyes; Fox thought that fear would grip his heart, yet he was oddly calm. Life, death; they didn't seem to matter anymore. Or, rather, Fox felt ready to embrace his fate. Day to day life felt more and more like a chore for the mercenary. And while he didn't rush towards death, he wasn't against letting it come to him. As the light began to fade and sound turn to nothingness, Fox felt ready to embrace death like a bride.
And then, nothingness.
This wasn't the first time Fox had entered a Warp Zone, but this was different from the last time.
The last time, back in the first Lylat War, was a constant bombardment of light and sound. Blues and pinks, odd sounds that made Fox think of some odd, old-school music. It was dizzying back then, yet it felt oddly natural. As if nothing was weird at all; or maybe the odd Warp Zone was manipulating him though the protective hull of his Arwing, making him feel relaxed when any sign man would be panicking and screaming, crashing their ship to any and every piece of debris in the void in a misguided attempt to confirm if what they were being subjected to was real or just a dream they couldn't wake up from.
It wasn't like that this time at all; in fact, it was the exact opposite. Fox couldn't see anything, it was all dark. It wasn't black as night or even dark like space. There was no source of any light, not even from his Arwing. He couldn't see his own hand even if it was trembling in front of his own face. He couldn't hear anything either; not Wolf's screaming, not that he could tell if he was or not, not the alarms his Arwing should've been giving off, not even the sound of his own heart.
He couldn't feel anything either. Not the taste of his own spit, not the seat he was sure he was still sitting in, nor the controls his hands wouldn't let go of with his vice-like grip. Fox felt as though he was cramped inside of his cockpit, yet weightless, and his sad attempt to anchor himself in place was useless. Was this what death was like or was this just the odd void he was trapped in.
How long would he be here? Would he die here? Could he die here? And just how long has he been here? At first, he thought it was just five minutes, but at the same time, he felt that he had been floating here for five hours. It was getting so bad that Fox couldn't tell if he was even still in the cockpit. Was he awake? Thinking in his sleep? Were his eyes even open?
CRASH!
Suddenly, all of his senses hit him like a hammer upside the head. A low groan escaped Fox's muzzle; he wanted to feel something, but now it was pain. His body felt sore and stiff; it felt like he had slept all day and hadn't moved a muscle, but somehow worse. Like he was stuck in his cockpit for weeks. His eyes slowly peeled open with a groan as a setting sun's light pierced his retinas like a hot laser.
With a grimace, the fox blindly reached across the console to open the hatch to his cockpit. His ears twitched anxiously with the lack of any cockpit opening sounds. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he tried to press the button again, but noticed how it felt through his leather glove.
Cold.
His console felt ice cold. The Arwing wasn't running. Fox tried to fire it up, but he didn't even catch the sputter of the engine.
"Great. My Arwing's dead..." Fox grunted as he adjusted his seat. With a hard kick of his metallic leg, Fox kicked the glass shielding off of his Arwing before he dragged himself out. Popping his neck and shoulders, Fox looked around. He was on some kind of beach, but this didn't look like any beach he knew. The sand was black as night and gave a beautiful, if not ominous, shine under the setting, red sun. He looked ahead of him, seeing crimson waves push and as high tide began to set in. Behind him, a massive jungle, but there were smoke stacks poking from the tree line. Black clouds of smog began were pouring into the air, obscuring Fox's view from looking beyond the trees.
"Where in Lylat am I...?" Fox mumbled, but he questioned if he was really still in the Lylat System at this point. He reached for his head piece and began to speak. "Fox to the Great Fox, do you hear me guys?" He was met with a chorus of static in his ears. "Great, my Arwing's dead and now I can't even call for help." Just as Fox thought things couldn't get worse, he heard something.
Marching?
Fox pulled out his blaster, turning behind him and preparing to fire a warning shot, but was promptly met with a pair of larger guns pointing at his face. They looked crude and rudimentary as opposed to his own blaster, but they were not only much bigger, but there were five crocodiles pointing what looked like brass-and-steel blunderbusses at Fox's head, florescent tubes sticking out of the sides of their guns.
"Don't even think about it, furball." The croc snarled, his body bulging with muscles covered by mostly green scales. "Drop your blaster and come quietly or your hide will make a nice rug."
"Oh damn..."
#Fanfic#Fanfiction#Crossover#Star Fox#Fox McCloud#Tiny Kong#Donkey Kong Country#JAC Fic#Furry#Anthro#Anthropomorphic#Fox#Ape#Kong#Nintendo#Wolf O'donnell#Tiny Kong x Fox McCloud#Sword & Planet#Sword and Planet#Kremlings#Kremling#Crocodile#Science Fantasy#Fantasy#Science Fiction
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At the Start of the World Chapter 1
Anything but Normal
--
Fiora wakes up, she brushes her hair and puts it up in two ponytails, and goes to check on Dunban. She changes his bandages and pushes him back down in bed, telling him to wait here while she makes breakfast. She does just that and they eat together, her sitting next to his bed.
She gets to work after that, making sure lunch is ready before too long. She stands in front of the pot and slaves away at the curry, cuts the supplies for the sandwiches at the same time.
Reyn always likes a healthy mix of veggies and meat -- energy aubergines in rare supply and only for special occasions. Shulk likes more meat than veggies, but she always sneaks some in anyway, just in case. He needs it to grow healthy!
She listens to the meat cook on the stovetop and prepares the bread. It's always a busy day in the kitchen, but she wouldn't have it any other way. It's nice to keep busy -- nice to have a way to forget about the threat that was looming until just recently.
She frowns deeply thinking about Dunban. The Battle of Sword Valley had been a year ago, that cursed sword had nearly killed him so recently... And yet she knows he still thinks of it.
He's always talking about getting well enough to wield it again, talking about defending the Homs once more. Maybe that's why she's convinced herself the Mechon can't come back. If they can't come back, then Dunban doesn't have to hurt himself anymore.
She turns back to the curry and the meat, telling herself not to worry about that. Thinking about them is just a way of inviting them in. If she thinks of them, she gives them power. If she gives them power...
She once again cuts her thoughts off and gets back to work. Maybe today is a special enough day to give Reyn some energy aubergines on his sandwich. She knows they're a pain to find, but with some gumption she always does.
"Yeah, I think I'll do that." She tells herself, "a little treat never hurt anybody."
She reaches into the cabinets, and gets fully enveloped in the cooking.
--
Fiora touches the spot the Monado bounced off her and frowns. Shulk really hadn't cared, not one bit... What if it had done something to her?! Would he have even thought twice about it?
She swallows hard as she paces around the lab, the boys gone. They went to get ether cylinders... it should be fine, right? Reyn's a bit hardheaded, but he's got a good heart and no way will he let Shulk get hurt…
Unlike Shulk, he actually cares about the wellbeing of his friends, she thinks with a pout.
She just hopes he won't get overwhelmed. There's only two of them, and an entire nest of Mell Lizards... Rumour has it the nest is right next to Wallslide Gwynry's lair. She bites her thumb thinking about it... and... Oh, damn it!
She can't just leave them like that. She finds the canisters for the transfer of the cylinders laying right outside the lab and takes her chance. Slung onto her back, she starts out for Tephra Cave herself.
--
"Shulk, go." Fiora's voice is tense as she stands back to back with Reyn. "We'll handle things here, you get to the mobile artillery."
"Fiora! You can't be serious," he shakes his head. "I can't just leave the two of you!"
"We'll be fine," she promises. "We'll be right after you before you know it! I'm Dunban's sister in more than name, you know."
"I ain't been training for so long to not hold my own weight!" Reyn adds with a grin. "I know what to do. Knock 'em off balance then topple 'em, right? Fiora and I got that covered."
A Mechon charges, but Fiora's able to knock it off balance just in time. Reyn knocks it over, and Fiora dazes it where it sits. She looks at Shulk then, a fire in her eyes as she does.
"See? Go on ahead, we won't be long."
Shulk finally nods. "Both of you... be safe."
Shulk is off down the street then, and when Fiora is sure he's a safe distance away, she goes on the offensive. These Mechon... Coming back out of nowhere, putting Dunban and her friends at risk all over again... She decides she won't let it happen, not again.
She strikes with her knives, and Reyn is quick to follow. They build a synergy quickly enough, and Fiora doesn't feel like stopping. She'll take them all down, no matter what it takes.
"You know, Fiora..." After a few moments, Reyn begins to pant out words. "Maybe you should go after Shulk, you ain't much of a fighter."
"And leave you without a way to throw the Mechon off balance?" She shakes her head. "No way!"
He shrugs. "Fair enough."
A pillar starts to collapse and first Fiora thinks crap, that's the way Shulk went. Then she thinks shit, it's falling right towards us. She dives to the side, and Reyn does the same.
Rolling across the ground, she braces herself and lets out a groan, pulling herself up. Mechon had already come at Reyn, trying to get to him. He's barely holding them off...
She runs forward and strikes against the Mechon, her knives doing nothing.
"Fiora! Get out of here!"
"I can't just leave you, Reyn! We promised Shulk we'd be right behind him, right?" She strikes again and grunts. "I can't go back on that!"
She keeps trying, as impossible as it seems, and a blue light flashes by her. Before she knows it, the Mechon around them are falling to the ground, destroyed. She lets out a gasp.
"Dunban!"
He's breathing heavily, and she can see his arm twitching in pain. "Sorry to keep you waiting!"
Reyn's eyes are shining. "The Monado...! I had a feeling you had it!"
"He shouldn't," Fiora frowns. "Dunban, you shouldn't have left your room! You're still injured!"
"I'm fine." He shakes his head, brushing off her worry. "Shulk's not with you?"
Fiora shook her head. "We sent him on ahead, to the Residential District. We were supposed to be right behind him."
Reyn looks that way, "looks like we have to go the long way 'round, think Shulk'll mind."
"I doubt it, but..." She glances at her brother. "Let's avoid fighting as much as we can, okay?"
--
Fiora watches as blood comes from Dunban's mouth, watches the Monado fall and slide forward. The cursed sword that hurt her family so much. The blessed sword that kept Homs alive this long.
She grits her teeth and finds herself running forward. She won't let Dunban get hurt, not anymore. She grabs the Monado and holds it tight, it feels weird compared to her knives... Unnatural.
"I'll protect you this time!"
"Fiora, no!" Dunban's voice is strained. "It'll kill you!"
She ignores him, like he always ignores her pleas to forget about the Monado. Rushing forward a scream rips from her throat and she rushes the Mechon. For a moment, she feels as if she's seeing the future, moving so deftly to avoid each and every attack. A gift from a god, one would say if they were a believer.
She wonders if this is what Shulk saw earlier, when he touched the Monado in the lab. She wonders if she's rushing down the same path as him, an obsession with a weapon they can never understand.
That can wait until later, though. For now, she cuts down the Mechon. She'll ask Shulk about this later, when she finds him. If anyone has even an inkling of an idea of what that meant, it would be him.
"Fiora!" Reyn's yelling and Dunban seems stunned in awe. "More incoming!"
Dunban pulls himself to his feet then. "Reyn!"
"Yeah!"
The two join the fray and, in no time, they have the advantage. The Monado still feels foreign in Fiora's hands, but bit by bit she's acclimating, figuring out what to do.
Dunban slides to a stop at her back. "Fiora, are you alright?"
"Fine, I just..." She frowns. "I think I know what Shulk saw earlier. I think he saw into the future. Is that something the Monado can just do?"
"First time I heard of it was from Shulk," Reyn replies, fighting off another Mechon. "You sure you saw the future?"
Fiora nods.
"...Dickson once mentioned a potential hidden power of the Monado, is this it?" Dunban asks, kicking a Mechon away from Fiora.
"That so? Guess we'll have to ask him more about it later." She grips the Monado tighter. "For now, we need to get to Shulk!"
--
The Monado doesn't work on the Mechon with the face. That fact makes her blood run cold, makes her freeze as she watches Dunban fight helplessly against it. She thinks he's going to die, thinks she'll lose him to this war, when a blast sounds through the night.
The Mobile Artillery, Shulk rushing forward. It's flying to the side, the Mechon with a metal face is stabbing through something. She hears herself screaming.
"Was that... another...?" Things click into place as she looks up and sees Shulk rushing for the Mechon. "Shulk, no! It'll kill you! Turn around!"
Shulk doesn't listen, all he does is yell that he'll help them. That they'll save Colony 9. He's shooting at the Mechon now, but still almost no reaction. Even less than a normal mechon would have. Does it have to do with the eerie red glow?
"Shulk! Please get out of here! Run!"
He's up against it now, shooting directly at it. Still nothing, even as the artillery falls. Even as the Faced Mechon gets up. Fiora can do nothing but watch as it lifts it, looks at Shulk for so long, and throws it to the side as if it's nothing.
She listens to Shulk's whimpers and yells, she hears herself screaming as Shulk screams. As he lets out what is his dying breath. She's shaking, coming back to reality. She grips the Monado, and a jolt goes through her, like a cold shock of electricity, right through her veins.
"I'll kill you...!"
#Xenoblade#Xenoblade Chronicles#Series: At the Start of the World#Fandom: Xenoblade#Character: Fiora#Character: Shulk#Character: Reyn#Character: Dunban#Character: Mumkhar#Post Type: Chapter#Content Warning: Character Death
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Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Five
Table of Content or Part Forty-Four
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Words: 3.1K
Warning(s): Explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse
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Five days detoxing at Doc's house+rehab+therapy=road to recovery=out of the woods. It's the magical equation I swore up and down wouldn't end in "Error."
The few dishes on the counter shatter into the floor once Nikki roughly sits me on it, his fingers digging into my thighs that wrap securely around him, our tongues twisting as we tug and pull at each other's clothes.
I get his pants undone as he pulls the towel from around my body, taking a handful of my soaking wet hair in his hand and tugging my head back to leave bites and bruises up and down my neck, causing me to hum in pleasure while my core pulses with anticipation to be filled by him.
Moving myself to the edge of the counter, spreading my legs as he runs his fist up and down his length a few times, I take heavy breaths, a wash of shame coming over me for a moment because this is the complete opposite of what we were instructed to do.
But fuck the "no contact" rule.
I've barely had any contact with him the past few months because he's been stoned or drunk. Telling me to practically ignore and avoid him for 30 days straight is like waving a loaded syringe in an addict's face before sitting it down in front of them and leaving them alone after telling them "okay I know it's right there and it's the one thing you struggle most to control yourself around, but don't even look at it."
Fuck that, and Nikki. And I refuse to walk around my own house anymore and not do the latter of those two.
The indescribable feeling of him pushing into me has my head tipping back , and my eyes closing as the both of us let out content sighs.
I put my weight on one of my hands that rests on the counter beside me, the other hand wrapped around the back of Nikki's neck, as he moves in and out of me ferociously and I meet him thrust for thrust.
Let's take a step back and catch up on how he and I had gotten to that point.
Eight Days Earlier
"You two can detox at my place, check into rehab, come out when you're better and we'll go from there." Doc explains to Nikki and Tansy as they both sit on our couch.
"W-What about the press? Or my mom?" Tansy asks him nervously, fumbling with the tag on the throw blanket she's enveloped in.
"You let me deal with your mom and the media, alright?" Doc assures her.
"Surely your mom won't be pissed at you for getting help, Tans." I try to tell her and she rubs her lips together.
"People will know I have a problem if I got to rehab." She points out. "It'll make me look bad."
"Having to cover your entire body with makeup to hide the discoloration of your skin and the track marks, looks bad, Tansy. Screw what people think. At least you're admitting you need help." I say and she doesn't reply, just looking at Nikki to gauge his reaction to all of this.
He looks pissed, but too tired and defeated to give a shit enough to argue with me anymore about it.
"What's the point of rehab if I'm just gonna end up kicking it at Doc's place?" Nikki asks me and I let out a breath.
"Because rehab will teach you coping mechanisms that Doc can't, Nikki. It won't take that long for you to get out if you just try your best at it." I reply and he scoffs.
"So, what, you're babysitting me at Doc's until I'm done throwing up, shitting myself, and having hot and cold flashes and then shipping me off for a few weeks?" He cuts his dead eyes at me and Doc and I exchange looks.
"Well, it depends on how quickly you adjust to rehab and make a turn around, as to how soon you can get out...so it might be more than a few weeks." Doc informs him. "And Bob has already scheduled you and Viv an appointment with a marriage therapist."
"Well if I'm spending more than three weeks in rehab there's no point in working on our marriage."
"The program you'll be in includes this particular therapist who's currently working on creating a schedule for Vivian to come visit you often and you two have your sessions bi-weekly." Doc states and Nikki rolls his jaw, looking at me.
"Is this what you really want? Your husband gone for weeks on end until some quack gives me a certificate and a gold star because I went 'X' amount of time without shooting up?" He harshly questions me and I rub my lips together.
I think of the reasons Nikki didn't spend more than three days in rehab the first time he went, was because A.) He refused to believe in a higher power, and B.) He didn't go to rehab because he knew he had a problem and wanted to get better, he went to rehab to appease the people around him because he felt we were twisting his arm until he gave up and cried "mercy" a.k.a "fine I'll go, just as long as you shut the fuck up and get off my back about it."
I look at him for a moment, studying his knotted hair, his yellow skin, his shot eyes, his weak appearance, before saying:
"I'd rather you hate me for a little while for getting you help, instead of waking up and trying to convince myself to continue to live in a world with no Nikki Sixx in it."
"We're not indestructible, Nikki." Tansy adds softly, knowing very well she and he both need help.
He doesn't say anything else.
She had Doc and I convinced she wanted help...but truth be told Nikki actually went to rehab while Tansy had Duff come get her from Doc's house.
She knew she had a severe problem, but the only time Tansy would "clean up" was when she gave her veins a break, out of fear of completely losing them, and was muscling smack. She would fall back on pills and lots of booze, then when some of her veins would start reviving themselves back from their smaller size, she would start up again.
I can't even say how much money she and her mother were paying people to keep quiet to the media.
Nobody could know perfect Tansy Lyn, Playboy's Barbie Doll, was so broken inside that she repeatedly destroyed her body, let it rebuild, and wrecked it again.
It must have been a punch in the face to her mom when Tansy came clean in '88 and admitted she had struggled with addiction and was going into rehab...and an even harder punch in the face when she came back in into the spotlight in 1989, dropping her stage name "Tansy Lyn" and dawning "Tansalyn Rose" after marrying Axl, and practically confessed every grimy detail of her obsession with hard drugs and alcohol since 1981, and why she started them to cope with what was happening behind the scenes of the brutal modeling industry.
In 1990, her vision-come-to-life, "I Won't Just Smile", was born. It started as a campaign to raise awareness against sexual abuse, exploitation, and coercion in all corners of the modelling industry, then stemmed into an organization that offered free services to victims of addiction and abuse, from rehab to post-assault counseling and everything in between.
Years of Diane's hard work to create her daughter's untouchable persona, completely shattered.
I was just thrilled Tansy had turned her struggles around and used them to help others, but first, she would have to face a handful of overdoses, one of which nearly killed her, have a section of her liver cut out, and have a temporary pace-maker.
All of it just made Axl more strict about drugs. Not just for the sake of the band and the fans, but he was afraid some members of Guns in particular would pull Tansy back into the merry-go-round of addiction after she got clean.
"You're telling me I can't stay with him and Tansy?" I ask Doc harshly in a whisper once the four of us get to his house.
"You won't want to stay, Viv. I'm telling you, they're gonna pull out all the stops to get you to cave and get them some smack because they'll be in so much pain. I don't want you to see them like that and I don't want you to compromise their recovery." He explains.
"You think I would do that?!"
"I know you would if it came down to it." He states and I roll my jaw. "This isn't just little flu symptoms and some body aches. They will feel like they are going to die, they will look like they are going to die and I cannot trust you not to give in." His brutal honesty. "You'll be able to see them in about a week, they'll be better by then and then we can look at the next step. Got it?"
I just glare at him.
"Go kiss 'em 'bye' and fuck off." He says next, waving his hand at me dismissively as he goes to my car to grab Nikki's bag and his car to grab Tansy's.
I step back into the living room to tell them 'bye' but stop myself, deciding it's better to let Doc deal with Nikki's pissed off temper when he discovers I won't be staying with them.
Grabbing my car keys from the table by the door, I head the house.
When I get back to our house, I check the machine that's blinking a light to signal a missed call.
I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water as Slash's voice slurs through the speaker.
"H-Hey, Viv, um...uh...we..." I chuckle at his incoherent mumbling and step to the phone to call him back as another message starts playing where his left off.
"Viv," It's Duff. "Call us back as soon as you can."
I furrow my brows a little, about to dial them back until yet another message comes on.
"Viv, we got signed!" Steven's screaming has me dropping my water and the phone, joy coursing through the soles of my feet up to my hair, and I'm running around and screaming along with his recorded message loudly blaring his own excitement.
I run back to the phone and pick it up, dialing their apartment.
"We got signed!" Steven's voice is shouting at me before the phone even rings a single ring.
"When?! How?! By who?!" I say back.
"We'll tell you over dinner because guess who got $7,500 cash advances?! The same mother fuckers who've been stealing from strippers to get by, that's who!" He exclaims.
"Yeah, don't ever tell people you guys did that!" I say in the same tone. "Lemme change and I'll be over there, okay?"
"Okay." He replies, and I can just hear his smile through the phone.
I hang up and give one last scream of happiness before sprinting to get changed and leave.
Tom Zutaut, the same man responsible for giving Mötley Crüe their shot, had given the same shot to Guns N' Roses.
They had signed to Geffen Records, and although that was their second goal--the first was getting a band together--they knew the main goal was to release their first album, and hopefully, have it a success.
Before I can even knock on the door, it's swinging open and Steven's like a puppy, jumping around, waiting on me by the door.
I hug him tightly, trying to keep myself from crying with immense relief that they're one step closer--a giant step closer--to their dream.
When we pull away from each other, Duff holds his hand up for me to give him a high-five and I do, his fingers locking with my hand to pull me into a hug and I'm sandwiched between him and Steven momentarily.
A flash catches my eye and we pull away from each other to see a girl with short, blonde hair, that I've never seen before, holding a camera.
"That's gonna be a good one." She tells us, smiling at Duff as the Polaroid deposits.
Mandy Brixx, member of the punk band, Lotus Lame and The Lame Flames, was a cute girl with bleach blonde hair, beautiful brown eyes and a captivating smile...and was also Duff's first wife.
Mandy wasn't perfect, but she didn't disown Duff after he told her he had gotten me pregnant.
Even though he didn't cheat on her with me, and they had been broken up for about six months when he and I got involved, I know it hurt her knowing he had hooked up with the woman she was sure she didn't have to worry about when they dated. They ended up getting back together in 1988 and got married the same year.
They divorced two years later because something just "changed" and neither of them were happy, but I've always respected her because she was really good to Monroe.
His second wife, however, was crazier than a run over dog because she was always on something.
The last time I saw her in 1993, she had said something crass and rude to Tansy and before Tansy could reply, I was asking Linda, "were you born a cunt or does the crack just bring it out of you?"
She swung on me and I swung back. Except when I throw a punch, I make sure it lands.
Maybe she would've actually hit me if her equilibrium weren't as fried as her brain.
I would've kicked her ass if Duff and Matt Sorum hadn't pulled me off of her.
I hope she got her shit together after they divorced in 1995.
I guess bass players and crack-head models go hand-in-hand...
"Viv, this is my girlfriend, Mandy." Duff introduces me. "Mandy, this is my best friend, Viv."
"Hi, it's good to finally meet you." Mandy tells me with a gentle smile and I extend my hand to her.
"You, too." I reply as she takes my hand in her's, my eyes subtly flickering to Duff now that he's standing beside her, silently asking him when the hell he was going to tell me about his girlfriend.
"I'll tell you later." He mouths to me where she can't see and I just keep smiling as she strikes up conversation with me.
Once we get to the Rainbow, Steven and I are a few steps in front of Duff and Mandy, the blonde drummer letting out a little sigh.
"What is it?" I ask, nudging him.
"Just worried about Tansy." He admits, and I raise my brows. "It's not like that, Viv, I swear." He promises. "She's a cool person, is all. I wish she was here to celebrate this with us."
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear about it when you're allowed to go visit her in rehab." I remind him. "Where's the guys?" I ask next as we step into the Rainbow.
"Slash is hanging out with this chick he met a couple weeks ago, Izzy's with his girl friend and I don't know where Axl is." He tells me and I nod. "So it's just a double date for us tonight." He grins widely, winking at me slickly.
After hours of just goofing off, talking, eating and demonstrating our celebration of Guns' stepping stone, Mandy's calling it a night.
"I'll call you later, Duff." She says to him as she grabs her jacket and he stands up to let her scoot out of the booth.
"Sounds good, babe." He replies, kissing her cheek.
"It was really nice to meet you." She tells me.
"It was nice to meet you, too." I reply.
"Bye." She smiles one last time at Duff, waving to Steven before leaving.
"When did you me--"
"Viv, lemme out." Steven interrupts me and I furrow my brows.
"What?"
"Lemme out, there's a hot girl at the bar and she just waved me over. I wanna get laid. Lemme out." He pleads and I roll my eyes and scoot out so he can stand up.
He does so, heading straight to the bar to try his luck with a beautiful brunette.
And then there were two.
"You were saying?" Duff chuckles out when Steven's gone and I smile a little.
"When did you and Mandy meet?" I ask him and he lets out a breath of cigarette smoke.
"Uh, a month ago, maybe? She gave me her number and I went back and forth with myself until I convinced myself to call her." He explains. "We spent the weekend together so I guess we get along pretty good. She's a great girl."
"She seems nice." I tell him, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"Yeah, she is." He agrees, taking another drag of his cigarette.
I take a sip of my water and sit in the silence that falls over us before noticing he's staring at me.
"What?" I ask him.
"You wanna go somewhere with me?" He offers, putting his cigarette out.
"Where?"
"C'mon." He stands up, nodding to the door.
"But Steven--"
"--Is about to go mess around with that girl in the bathroom. He's not gonna be mad if we leave him." He adds. "C'mon, you'll like where we go."
"If you say so." I shrug.
He pays the bill and the two of us head back to their apartment so he can get his car.
I know I should have been at home by the phone, waiting for a call from Doc or Nikki or Tansy, but it was pointless to sit at home and worry when I couldn't do anything about it anyway.
When we get to where we're going, Duff is parking his car in the lot of an abandoned building, and I glance around to see there's not much traffic around us.
"Is this the part where you murder me?" I ask him and he busts out in laughter, shaking his head.
"This is where Mandy and her band rehearses." He explains.
"Why're we here?"
"I picked her up here the other day and noticed something you might like." He gets out the car and opens his trunk, pulling out a shopping bag.
"Duff..." I say, uneasy as we approach the rusted door.
"Shh, I got it." He digs in his jacket pocket and plucks out a worn key, unlocking the dead bolt and the door knob.
I follow him inside, and he switches on a light switch, only one light beam in the ceiling comes on, and in the large, dim room, I see a large mirrored wall, sleek but worn out wood floors, and I turn to see Duff holding out a brand new pair of pointe shoes to me.
I wasn't going to tell him I'd gone so long without dancing that I'd have to work my way back up to dancing on pointe, because he'd spent money for the shoes and they looked to be around my size and I didn't want to know how observant he had to be to estimate my shoe size in terms of ballet...so I did something I was really good at doing at that time in my life.
I kept myself from crying.
I knew Duff was going to be a constant encourager in my life when he held those shoes out to me and so easily, so confidently, said:
"You've supported and helped me get into my groove of things to start accomplishing my dream. Now, I'm helping you get back into your's."
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Better Together: "ALN" Story (Pre-Serum Omega!Steve and Alpha!Bucky Modern Domestic AU)
TRIGGER WARNING nightmare about pre-term labor and delivery
Eight:
"So," Bucky started, applying his nightly moisturizer.
Spitting the foamy dregs of toothpaste out, Steve repeated, "So?"
"How do you want to tell the 'rents?" Bucky prompted.
"Oh, um," Steve hesitated, unsure. After all, he still felt like if he focused and acknowledged the pregnancy too much, he'd miscarry. Half-teasing, "Do we have to tell 'em?"
"I think they'll figure it out when we start bringing a new baby around," Bucky joked.
Steve sighed and admitted, "I just don't wanna jinx it, ya know?"
"I know," Bucky assured, taking a step to the side so he could hug Steve from behind. Hooking his chin over Steve's slender shoulder, he rested his hands on the small curvature of the bump, "But we can't think of it like that."
"I know," Steve sighed again, placing his own hands over Bucky's and lacing their fingers together. Needing that to ground himself. "It's just hard not to."
Kissing the mating bite at the crook of Steve's neck, Bucky suggested, "C'mon, let's go to bed."
Nodding, Steve turned around in Bucky's grasp to face him and stood on his toes to give him a sweet kiss. Agreeing around a yawn, "Your kids are exhausting."
"Yeah, they must get it from you," Bucky joked, leading the way out of the bathroom.
"Shit, burn," Steve deadpanned, removing his hearing aids and making sure they were charging before climbing into bed. Checking his phone, he found a text from Tibby. Asking, "Got anymore of those dolls? The other ones sold out and there's demands for more!"
"I've got a whole tub full, I'll take some pictures tomorrow," Steve replied before setting his phone down and taking his glasses off.
Bucky waited until Steve was settled before he sidled up to him. With his robotic prosthetic charging on top of his dresser, he slung his flesh arm around Steve's torso. Resting his hand on the tiny bump, he kissed the back of Steve's neck, "Love you."
Yawning, Steve confirmed, "Love you too."
With his alpha warm and present against his back, purring, Steve was lulled into sleep. Vaguely wondering how he had ever gotten any sleep before he had Bucky there to keep him safe.
"Stevie! Stevie, wake up! It's time!"
Blinking his eyes open, Steve rolled over to see what was going on and paused. He wasn't in his bedroom. He wasn't even in a house. He was in the hospital. More accurately, a delivery room.
Looking to his side, Steve found Bucky dressed in scrubs with a surgical mask covering his handsome face. Confused, Steve's brows furrowed, "What's going on?"
"It's almost time to push," Bucky answered as though it was the most obvious thing ever.
Fear shot down his crooked spine as he looked down at his abdomen. It was practically flat and definitely not time to push. It wasn't even almost time to push.
Shaking his head, Steve argued, "No. No, no, no. It's not."
"You can't keep them in forever, Stevie," Bucky lightly teased. Hoisting Steve's skinny leg, so he could start pushing, Bucky encouraged, "You've got this."
"No, it's not time," Steve continued, "We need to leave."
"C'mon, doll," Bucky sighed.
Steve pleaded, "It's not time. It's not. It's too soon."
"Don't be silly," Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Steve's temple.
Then, intense cramping started. Just like labor pains and Steve couldn't help but cry because it wasn't time. It wasn't time. It was too soon. It was way too soon. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not like this. Not after everyth–
Steve? Stevie? Steve, wake up!
Heavy eyes blinking open, Steve found his gaze blurry against the dimly lit room. Reaching out, along the end table until he felt his glasses. Shaking and panting, Steve found himself back in his bedroom and safe in his bed. Beside him, Bucky was watching him and holding his arm out to him cautiously. As though he wasn't sure if he could touch him.
"Sorry," Steve breathlessly apologized for waking his mate and scaring him.
"It's okay," Bucky waved his comment off. "Are you okay?"
"Just a bad dream," Steve assured, trying to calm himself. "I'm okay."
Bucky moved closer, but still didn't touch him as he asked, "You sure?"
Before he could answer, Bucky tenderly wiped Steve's tears away. Funny, Steve didn't even know that he was crying until then. Reaching up, Steve felt his own damp face, confused by the tears just as he was confused by the nightmare.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"I don't know," Steve sniffled, rubbing over his still-developing bump. "I just never want to think about that ever again."
Bucky nodded, "Do you want some tea or something?"
"Ginger ale?" Steve requested.
"Sure," Bucky agreed, climbing out of bed and leaving their room.
For a moment, Steve just laid there. Wondering how he could've had such a vile dream. But Steve also knew it was just a nightmare. He was okay. Their baby was okay. But most of all, everything else was going to be okay.
Bucky returned with a glass half-full of the ginger soda. Handing it over to Steve, Bucky marked over his slender shoulder and asked, "Is there anything else?"
Checking the clock, he found that it was only two in the morning, and he sighed in annoyance at himself and his fears. Taking a few sips of the ginger ale, he felt his stomach settle and assured, "I'm okay. Let's just get some sleep."
"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?"
Although Steve knew that Dr. Strange would encourage him to talk about his nightmare, he was having difficulty actually do so. Especially with how intimate it had been. So, he decided to shake his head and laid back down, "I'm sure."
Turning out the light, Bucky cuddled up to Steve. Holding him tight, Bucky quietly offered, "Maybe in the morning."
Despite knowing that he probably wouldn't, he still agreed, "Maybe in the morning."
Kissing the back of Steve's neck, he settled his hand on the bump again, Bucky wished him, "Sleep tight, Stevie."
Setting his glasses on the end table, Steve shook from the nightmare and hugged Bucky's arm tighter. Wanting that comforting scent to envelope him. Especially after that nightmare.
Scent marking Steve's torso, Bucky gave his neck another kiss. Bringing them closer together as he held him tighter. Knowing exactly what Steve needed in that moment.
TAG LIST: @t3a-bag
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Horseshoe Overlook - Polite Society, Valentine Style
"You sure you'll be alright here by yourself?" Jameson asked Minnie as she helped him mount her horse.
"I know I will, nothin' is gonna happen while you're away," She assured. "Now, smoke you a pipe as Trace leads the way. He'll take care of you and knows when there's trouble," She explained. "Now, if he starts to get antsy, hang on!" She giggled. She could tell her father was intimidated by her horse who towered over anything close to him, but he knew that she was confident in her horse as he had been in her possession for a few years now. Trace was considered "broker than broke" as he was more used to gunfire and running than walking along a trail, which Minnie considered to be a good break for him as he toted her father along the way to the town of Valentine, which was a good hour-long ride at a walk.
"Be good, I'll see you when you get back tonight!" She cheered.
"You too," Her father replied.
"I was talkin' to Trace," Minnie teased.
"I see where I stand!" He joked.
She playfully scoffed, "Get outta here!"
She smiled and shook her head as she returned to her duties around the cabin. Sweeping the porch, making the beds, tidying the cabinets, and tending to the chickens while replacing the straw that lined their nesting boxes. She enjoyed being an outlaw, but something about the simple and honest life suited her. She guessed it was where her mother had always wanted to be. 'Momma would slap me blind if she knew how I made a livin',' Minnie said to herself as she wiped her hands on her apron, letting her thoughts wander to the loving memories of her mother, not paying any mind to the two pairs of eyes watching her from the treeline a few hundred yards away.
"Is that her?" One of the stalkers asked the other, using his green scarf to wipe the beads of sweat on his temple.
"Oh, that's her," The other one replied, licking his lips.
"Should we go and get her?"
"No, we go back and tell Colm where she's at, then he'll give us the go," He explained. "The place is nice and quiet - good to lie low for a while. Colm's itchin' to get off of that mountain."
"Why is he sending us after this woman anyway?"
"He didn't tell you? That's Minnie Barlow - the most dangerous woman outlaw since Pearl Hart!"
"So he has some sort of crush?"
"I guess you can call it that. He met her in a saloon a while ago and she threatened his life. Reckon it embarrassed him since he expected to get along so well with another outlaw, but you know how Colm is. His pride gets the better of 'em. She also has a high bounty of a few thousand dollars. Enough to get us outta here for a while!"
He scoffed, "Shit, I say let's get her now and take the money and return it to Colm!"
"No, we do as he says. Let's hurry and get back. Reckon he'll want to make a move when her father gets back. You go to Valentine and scope things out and I'll get back to camp," He directed as the other man nodded. "Don't screw this up!"
───※ ·❆· ※───
𝓦𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓮 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼. 𝓐𝓲𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓻 𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓪 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻. 𝓓𝓾𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻. 𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓮𝓮 𝓱𝓮'𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓻. 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝔀𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓮𝓻. 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓼...
Arthur closed his journal and put on his jacket, which was something he was eager to wear as it was lightweight, yet warm. Something to keep the morning chill off of his shoulders. He looked around the new camp as he placed his hat on his head, nodding at Hosea as he approached him with a hot cup of coffee.
"Arthur," Hosea nodded.
"Hosea," He greeted, taking the warm tin cup from the old man's hands.
"Quite a day!" Hosea smiled, his arms wide.
"Let's hope so," Arthur grunted, taking a sip of the coffee.
"There's a bunch of the boys already in Valentine. Bill, Charles, and Javier... I'm sure they're, uh, finding some way of relieving some stress, and Swanson found something down at the train station by the lake apparently. And Strauss came back with that creepy little smile on his face. I'm sure there's a whole list of unfortunates he's forced money upon," Hosea explained as he watched Arthur sip his coffee, yawning in between.
Arthur chuckled, "Thank you. And you?"
"I'm gonna read a book," Hosea replied hastily.
Arthur nodded with a chuckle, finding a comfort in talking to the old man as he will forever look up to him as a father figure - something he never had, or at least he never remembered.
He was eager to get out and explore the Heartlands, but he would also rather sit back and rest without having to use all of his energy to stay warm. He looked around as he walked to the pot to get a bowl of stew, scarfing it down before making his way to the sleeping older man sitting up against a wagon. The man went by the name 'Uncle,' which nobody knew his real name, nor did they want to know. All Arthur knew him as was the old man who was just another mouth to feed, but was much entertainment when the camp needed it. He at least had some stories, whether they were true or not.
He shook his head as he stormed over to the old man, waking him with a solid kick to the leg. "Careful not to work yourself to death there, Uncle," Arthur said.
"I was thinkin'," Uncle replied as he staggered to his feet, his white beard stained with tobacco just below his bottom lip.
"Does it pay well?"
"Eventually," Uncle grumbled as Arthur placed a palm on his shoulder.
"So, while the rest of us are busy stealin', killin', lyin', fighting to try to survive, you get to think all day," Arthur explained.
"It's a strange world we live in, Arthur Morgan," Uncle said.
"Do you wanna head into town, see if we can find anything out?" He proposed.
"Sure, I got some errands to run!"
"Great, go check the horses are ready," Arthur commanded as Uncle did as he was told with a grumble.
"If you're gonna take the old man into town, can you take us too?" Karen Jones asked as she eavesdropped into their conversation.
"Why, what you got planned?" Arthur asked, striking a match on the bottom of his boot, lighting a well-needed cigarette.
"Nothin'," Karen replied, waving her hand for Mary-Beth and Tilly Jackson to follow her, hoping to pressure Arthur into taking them into town. "We'll find somethin' for y'all to do, we always do!"
"We're bored out of our minds!" Mary-Beth added, her brown eyes begging Arthur for approval. "Karen's about ready to murder Grimshaw!" She giggled.
"Well, can Miss Grimshaw spare you?" Arthur asked, puffing his cigarette.
"Can't Miss Grimshaw spare you?" Karen repeated. "What's happened to you, Arthur? Three young healthy women want you to take 'em robbing and you're worried about house chores! Let's go!" Karen begged.
"Fair enough, you got me," Arthur chuckled, throwing away his cigarette as the women loaded themselves up onto the wagon.
The women cheered in excitement as they were about to see civilization, something completely opposite from Arthur's thoughts, of course, but he was eager to see other people aside from the ones he shared his life with. He could definitely use a drink, especially sharing a bench seat with Uncle.
───※ ·❆· ※───
"Howdy!" Jameson Barlow said as he entered the general store, making his presence known to the shopkeeper and his long-time friend, Graham.
"How're you, sir?" Graham replied.
"Eh, I'm gettin' on," Jameson replied. "I need some produce and canned foods. Runnin' low back at the cabin!" He chuckled.
"I understand. I just got these in this past Tuesday - nice and fresh! How's little Anna doin'?" Graham asked, referring to Minnie by her middle name as he knew she was well known around Valentine. He and Jameson have become close friends throughout the years as they once attended church together and he kept a close eye on the rumors he had heard, wanting to do his best to protect Jameson and Minnie as he held them dear to his heart.
"She's doin' well. She's actually stayin' with me for a few days I reckon. I don't like when she goes out on her own like that," Jameson frowned, referring to her "work" as an outlaw. If he could change one thing, it would to keep her a good, honest young lady instead of a thief, but nonetheless, he loved her.
Graham nodded, "I understand. I haven't seen her in a while. I miss seein' her little curly blonde hair on Sunday mornin' when she was little!" He chuckled. "Miss hearin' those church songs, too. She has the voice of an angel!"
"That she does. She didn't learn it from me! That's all her momma's doin'!" Jameson smiled. "I think I'll get me a couple of cigars and a bottle of whiskey. Can't leave out the whiskey!" The men shared a laugh as Graham gladly packed up Jameson's provisions, nodding at the new customers who had walked through the door. "Good day, gentlemen!" Graham greeted. Jameson turned to look at the men, one of them around his age, but with a coarser white beard and the other around Minnie's age, wearing a worn leather hat and light leather jacket. He took note of the bright blue shirt he had on underneath as it was one of his favorite colors.
New faces.
Jameson nodded at the new faces as he made his way out the door of the general store, taking a seat on the bench just outside, cracking open the new bottle of whiskey.
"I'm gonna run to the saloon real quick, Arthur," The old man addressed as they were now outside the general store as well. The younger man nodded as he walked towards Jameson, greeting him. "You mind if I rest here, bud?" He asked.
"Sure!" Jameson said as he scooted closer to the edge of the bench, giving the younger man plenty of room as he was broader than most young men he had seen in the area.
"Name's Jameson," He said after taking another sip of whiskey, offering his hand to the other man.
"Arthur," He nodded, shaking his hand.
"You from 'round here?"
"Not really," Arthur shook his head. "We've been travellin' for a while, tryin' to find somewhere to settle down. So far, we think this place looks good."
"You and your wife?" Jameson assumed.
Arthur chuckled, "Nah, I don't have a wife. Me and a few of my colleagues were laid off from our jobs at the oil plant. Guess we're livin' like a bunch of gypsies now, but that's all we have." He chuckled.
"I'm sorry, friend. Times is tough nowadays. You sound like my daughter. She's all the time travellin' and I get worried. Gangs and all that," Jameson explained. "She used to be a homebody, never wanting to leave home. I guess she grew out of that,"
"What's her name?" Arthur asked, getting a hint that he was talking about who he thought he was.
"Anna." Jameson replied after a brief pause.
Arthur chuckled, resting his suspicion, "You folk from around here?"
Jameson shrugged, "Somewhat. We moved here from Annesburg years ago, right before Min-Anna was born," He hastily corrected himself, hoping Arthur didn't take note, in which he did, but kept a calm demeanor when he was erratic inside. "We were real big into church for a few years. Anna sang in the choir and has the voice of an angel. I wish she'd sing more when she's home. Reminds me of her momma. She passed a couple of years ago," He frowned.
"I'm sorry to hear that, friend," Arthur assured. "I can tell you were sweet on her."
"I sure was," Jameson chuckled, remembering his lovely wife. "I don't know much about you, friend, but I can tell you have more heart than any other fool who sat and listened to my troubles. When you find that special person, you'll know. Once you do, don't ever let them go. Anything can happen and it's a hard feeling, but it's worth it in the end - to have all kinds of special memories with someone you hold dear to your heart. My daughter is the only thing I have left and I try so desperately to hang on to her, but when she leaves, I worry that she won't come back and that's what keeps me up at night." He explained.
Arthur's heart broke for the man, realizing that he had never had this type of feeling before. He actually wanted to listen to him and his stories. Not just because he put together the pieces that Minnie Barlow was his daughter, but Jameson had a heart that reminded him of himself. He cared deeply about those close to him, but a stranger would never know it.
"I hope things get better for you, friend," Arthur sighed. "What does she do, if you don't mind me askin'?"
Jameson sighed, not wanting to tell Arthur in fear of him being a bounty hunter, but something about Arthur told him that he could be trusted as he didn't seem the one to seek information so boldly. He at least cared to hear about her life story beforehand. "She's, uh, I guess you can say a traveller..."
He really wanted to get her secret off of his chest as he has kept it inside for almost ten years now.
But for her safety, he couldn't.
"She works here and there as a journalist. She's been back and forth to Saint Denis a many a time. I worry, but she has been takin' the train a lot, so I don't worry as much," He lied. Arthur took note of this, but he understood why. All he could do was nod as he listened.
"I'm sure she will be fine, sir," Arthur replied. "So, I see you got some bait here, you like to hunt?" He asked, changing the subject.
"I sure do. I like goin' after deer and elk, but I'm not as young as I used to be." He chuckled.
"You sound just like my father," Arthur smirked, referring to Hosea.
"If you're ever free, I live north of Citadel Rock back in the woods. It's a little cabin that I named 'Six Point Cabin' after my wife..." He suggested.
"I'll give that some thought," Arthur nodded. "Why'd you name it that, if I may ask?"
"She killed a six-point buck before she passed and thought it was the greatest trophy in the world. She remembered that for a long time as it made her dearly happy as she never went huntin' much, especially for deer," Jameson smiled. "Like I was tellin' ya, when you love someone that much, you remember the things that make them more happy than yourself," He explained, pointing his finger. "I remember her every day looking at that trophy over my fireplace, remembering how happy it made her. And come to think of it, I remember her every day I see my daughter. I guess she's the last thing I have left of her and I worry every day about losin' her. I guess it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all," He frowned. "Anyway, I won't keep ya much longer. I gotta get back," He continued as he slowly rose to his aching feet. "It was nice to meet you, Arthur."
Arthur nodded as he shook the old man's hand, watching him walk towards a tall buckskin Quarter Horse, putting his provisions in the saddlebags. Jameson turned to Arthur once more, "I gotta run to the hotel real quick and wash up, care to keep an eye on the horse for me? The old bastard will spook on my watch!" Jameson joked.
"Sure thing!" Arthur nodded as he looked at the horse once more, taking in how beautiful the animal was. 'He must've paid good money for that one,' Arthur thought. To pass the time, he pulled out his journal, noting a quick sketch of the horse for his memory before writing a brief passage:
𝓜𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮. 𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷' 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓭 𝓶𝓮. 𝓦𝓮 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓷𝓸𝓽-𝓼𝓸-𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓫𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓼: 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮. 𝓘 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓲𝓷 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓪 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓽. 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷' 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓵. 𝓘 𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽. 𝓦𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓼𝓸 𝓰𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷' 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓘 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓸𝔀. 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓼𝓸 𝓸𝓭𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓲𝓷' 𝓸𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷' 𝓼𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝔀 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼. 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓪𝓶 𝓘 𝓼𝓸 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓻?
He closed his journal, feeling better that his thoughts made it from his brain to paper. He leaned back in the bench, stretching out his legs and crossing them at his ankles as he crossed his arms over his chest, bowing his head to rest his eyes. He soon was joined by Uncle, hearing him through his muffled thoughts, going on about how he pictured himself to be married to an heiress by now instead of moving with a band of outlaws.
Small patters of shoes gently nudged him awake, seeing that Mary-Beth had some interesting information for the men. He sat up slowly, looking at the woman as she kept her voice hushed. He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he listened to her explain.
"Gentlemen, I think I got somethin' good!" Mary-Beth proposed, giggling at how rapidly Arthur blinked as he tried to keep his focus on her when his main focus was on napping.
"What?" Arthur slurred.
"I snuck into this fancy house - acted like a servant girl, usually works," She explained. "Someone was saying her sister was taking a trip from New York or someplace. Train full of rich tourists heading to Saint Denis and then cruising off to Brazil!"
"Okay," Arthur nodded, his attention fully on her.
"A train laden with baggage and passing through a bit of deserted country at night as to get to the docks in time for the tides in some place called Scarlett Meadows..."
"Yeah, I know it," Uncle nodded, his face plastered with a cheeky grin. "Yeah, yeah, it's right out near New Hanover. Right, it's real quiet out there,"
"Sounds good," Arthur nodded, scratching his growing beard. 'I really need to get a shave!' He thought. "Where's Tilly and Karen?" He asked.
Mary-Beth scoffed, "I think at the hotel, they were pickin' up some drunken fellers that they was going to rob-"
"Why?" Arthur asked, almost panicked.
"Seemed easy!" She argued. "They have been gone for quite a while..."
Arthur sighed, "I guess I'll go see if there's any trouble," He groaned as he stood to his tired feet, feeling Mary-Beth's hand graze his arm as he walked by, getting his attention.
"There's Tilly over there!" She pointed. "That does not look ideal..." She trailed off as she watched a tall colored man grabbing all over her, almost dragging her to the alleyway to the side of the hotel.
"Excuse me," Arthur growled as he quickly made his way to the scene, wasting no time in intervening.
"You thought I wouldn't find you, Tilly?" The colored man hissed as Arthur was coming closer to the pair.
"You can go kiss a damn snake for all I care! Get off me!" Tilly pleaded.
"Get your hands off her, friend," Arthur sneered, relieving his pistol from its holster.
"Who are you?" The colored man growled.
"A friend of mine!" Tilly replied.
"Get off her," Arthur said in a low tone, hinting that his next move would be fatal if he didn't follow direction.
"Or what exactly?" He taunted.
"You wanna find out?" Arthur questioned, pulling back the hammer slowly.
The colored man backed off slowly, pointing his finger at Tilly, "You're makin' a big mistake, Tilly Jackson," He warned.
"Just get lost!" She hissed before turning and walking towards Arthur, seeking his protection.
"I ain't doin' this with you right now!" He mumbled.
"Go wait with Uncle and Mary-Beth, they're across the street," Arthur directed.
"Okay, thanks Arthur," She smiled. He nodded as he gently pats her shoulder, "Uncle! Look after her! I'm gonna go see about Karen in the hotel!"
He steadily made his way into the hotel of Valentine, politely asking the receptionist about the woman's whereabouts, informing him that she was in her mid-twenties and had blonde hair and was last seen with a man. The receptionist nodded as he said a woman fitting her description made her way upstairs not too long ago.
"A-Are you a friend of his?" He dared to ask.
"A friend of hers," Arthur grit. "Where is she?"
"Uh, 2B! Please, no trouble!"
"Just a word," Arthur assured as he ascended the stairs, cracking his knuckles as he knew this wasn't going to be pretty.
"Get off of me!" He heard Karen plead. His pace became faster as he tried to pinpoint the exact location of 2B. He gripped the knob firmly, growing agitated that it was locked. Instead, he stepped back and got enough momentum to kick open the door, seeing a man in his underwear putting his hands all over Karen. Sure, Arthur could be a bad man and easily kill a man, but something about a man putting his hands all over a woman made his blood boil.
"Hey!" Arthur shouted.
"Who are you?" The stranger questioned, obvious that he was drunk. Arthur quickly scanned the room, growing more aggravated that he saw Karen's lip bleeding.
"A friend of hers," Arthur growled.
"Get outta here, buddy, I paid!" The stranger slurred.
"Ain't paid to hit her, you goddamn animal!" He said as he balled his fists, lunging at the man before he had a chance to lunge at him. Arthur was upset that it was a brief fight, but was glad it was over with.
"What the hell were you doin' here?" He questioned her.
"Tryin' to play him... Not very well," She explained.
"You okay?" He asked, looking her over.
"Fine..." She said, waving her hand and gripping her wrist as Arthur ushered for her to walk in front of him just in case the stranger got another wild streak to come after her again.
"You sure?" He continued to question as they were now walking down the hallway.
"Yeah, nothing... Nothing to worry about... Just men, but, stupid bastard - the stupid bastard was boasting about the bank..." She explained.
"The bank?"
"Sure, I know small-town banks are usually a waste of time, but this is a livestock town, there's lots of cash sometimes," Karen explained as they descended the stairs.
"Okay," Arthur said as he scratched his beard. "Keep investigating,"
"I will," Karen breathed. He nodded at the receptionist as he ushered Karen outside, motioning for her to meet the others at the general store. He looked both ways before crossing the muddy street, taking note of the buckskin Quarter Horse still hitched next to the general store.
"Thank you, Arthur," Karen said, holding her cheek. "I don't much like bein' saved, but when I have to be,"
"I understand," Arthur assured her as they met up with the others, Mary-Beth and Tilly quickly tending to Karen's injuries.
"You okay?"
"Sure, he only punched me!" Karen replied. Arthur chuckled as he pat her shoulder in assurance, knowing that she secretly wanted it. "Arthur punched him a lot harder."
"Yeah, alright then," He replied, furrowing his brows as he looked at Mary-Beth, seeing the concern in her eyes.
"Hey, who's that guy over there looking at us?" She whispered.
"Weren't you in Blackwater a few weeks back?" A well-tailored stranger questioned.
"Me? No, sir. Ain't from there," Arthur replied sternly.
"Oh, you were. Well, I definitely saw you. With a bunch of fellers!" He accused from the back of his horse.
"Me? No," Arthur shook his head. "Impossible. Listen, buddy, come here for a minute," He coaxed.
"I saw you!" He spat, spooking his horse. "Come on, get!" He encouraged.
"I don't like this..." Uncle said as Arthur turned to the others.
"Me neither," He groaned, rushing to the buckskin horse, hoping he won't regret his decision. "Go get the girls home! I'm gonna go have a word with our friend," He explained as he mounted the tall horse.
"Be careful, Arthur!" Tilly said.
"Just a word!" He replied as he encouraged the horse into a gallop, amazed at the animal's agility and speed. 'Jesus Christ, what an animal!' He thought to himself as the horse made it seem easy to stay caught up with the stranger.
"Hey! That's my horse!" He heard Jameson yell from the hotel as it was now clear that Jameson was done with his chore.
"Just borrowing it!" Arthur yelled in response, hating himself for feeling like he stole an old man's reliable horse for his own selfish need. The horse had no trouble in catching up to the stranger, almost stopping on a dime when Arthur asked him to slow down to dismount as the stranger had now fallen off, hanging dearly to the cliffside.
"Why are you tellin' lies about me?" Arthur questioned.
"No, no! I-I-I got it wrong, partner... I got it very wrong, now please, help me up!" He begged.
"I ain't never been in Blackwater," Arthur growled.
"Then why are you chasing me?"
"I've got an unfortunate face!"
"Yes, yes... Me too... Now please, pull me up, please!" The stranger cried.
"Alright... Come on," Arthur sighed as he easily pulled the stranger to safety. "You okay, partner?" He asked.
"No... No, I am not," The stranger groaned as he staggered to his feet. "I'm a mess," He panted, looking at his now dirty clothes.
"Well, you ain't dead," Arthur reminded.
"There is that," He breathed, bracing his palms against his knees before standing up straight, offering his hand to shake. "Jimmy Brooks."
"I think it's best for both of us if we pretend this never happened," Arthur explained.
"Oh, I agree," Jimmy Brooks nodded. "You saved my life. You're a good man and I, err... Here, you want a pen? It's one of those steel ones!" He bargained, pulling the pen from his pocket.
Arthur nodded, amazed at the new stationery before him, "Oh, that's very kind of you, but I'm not a good man, Jimmy Brooks, not usually," He said before stepping closer to him. "You see, I was in Blackwater. I kill people. And maybe I should've killed you. Should I have killed you, Jimmy Brooks?" He intimidated, keeping eye contact with the man.
His lip quivered as he searched for a response, "Me?... I n-never saw you... Not-not now, not-not never... I think we have an understanding?"
"Of course we do," Arthur replied. "Jimmy Brooks - I will remember that. I've got a good memory," He smirked.
"I haven't! Not one lick in this old mind!" Jimmy pleaded as he made his way to his horse. Arthur shook his head as he approached the horse he had borrowed, admiring how the horse was patiently waiting on him to mount back up. A brief thought crossed his mind that if he didn't know the man who owned the horse, he would keep it as his own, but he knew the horse had to return to its rightful owner: Jameson.
The horse loped slowly along the trail until he arrived back in town, meeting Jameson halfway as he was happy to see the horse's return. "My horse! Thank you!" He smiled as Arthur dismounted.
"I told ya I was just borrowin' him!" Arthur chuckled.
"Well, my daughter would've had my hide if I let somethin' happen to her horse!" He joked. "His name is Trace," Jameson added.
"Well, Trace is a very nice animal. You're lucky, sir," Arthur said. "I had a horse like him once. Big mare who I called Boadicea," He explained.
"That's an interesting name..." Jameson replied, stroking Trace's muzzle.
Arthur chuckled, "My father named her that after a queen," He explained, his cheeks flushed as he was embarrassed.
"Ain't nothin' to be shy about, my friend. Thank you for bringing him back. Saves my daughter the heartache and me the headache!" He joked, winning a laugh from Arthur.
"I'd say so, sir," He smirked. He held out his hand to him as they have now earned each other's respect and trust. "Arthur Morgan,"
"Jameson Barlow,"
His suspicion was now confirmed: he had borrowed Minnie Barlow's horse and had a deep conversation with her father.
'And now she may kill me for ridin' her horse...'
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#k. I'm just going to sleep.#After ranting and shit. I'm too tired to care about a lot of things lately.#If I get any replies I'll check em when I wake up#If nothing else I'll just skip over to my personal most of the time. Yea. Personal stuff. I can catch up on that...#Like seriously I haven't been on that thin in months. HAhhhhhh!#ooc#outofchara;
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