#all the things he does for her and her family after finding out

[thebearer]

I need some of Ronan and Lip bc he feels like the forgotten child. Maybe Ronan and lip going out for a day after he wasn’t being paid attention to.

he’s not purposefully forgotten, lip just can’t relate to him the way he can with the others. not saying that he doesn’t, he loves ronan and ro loves him. he’s just very soft spoken, shy, kinda keeps to himself and lip’s not used to it. especially going from jude (who was wild especially as a kid) to ronan, it’s a big change.

it takes lip a while to find things to do with ronan because when he does take him to do stuff, he’s really quiet and lip takes that as he’s not having fun, when in reality he’s having a great time- he’s just quiet.

ronan loves the zoo. loves animals and that’s one thing that lip will take him to do. sure, the whole family will go every now and then, but when lip can, he’ll take just him and ronan to the zoo. let him look at all the animals, especially the reptiles.

“think mama would let us come home with one of those, ro?” lip grins, holding the tiny three year old up in his arms so he can see the snakes crawling behind the glass.

“no.” ronan giggles, shaking his head. “mama doesn’t like snakes.” he’s got a tiny lisp that makes lip’s heart melt.

“yeah, you’re right. she’d be scared, hm? better not scare her.” lip grins, pointing to the large anaconda in the next section.

#thebearer #bearblahs #lip Gallagher #lip gallagher x you #lip x you #dad!lip gallagher x mom!reader #dad!lip gallagher #ronan carl gallagher #shameless #shameless fluff #lip x reader #lip gallagher fluff

[sugarwavelove]

Dearest older brother...?

Notes: woke up from my nap and wrote this off the top of my head. Some of this is based off my own personal experiences. Not proofread.

Content to be found: 100% PLATONIC, implied bpd and ocd if you squint, unhealthy sibling dynamics (lmk if there's more I should add)

You remember asking Sunday that question all too well. And boy, how did you regret it. 

“Is it ok if I call you… big brother now?”

You so desperately wanted to have a caring family, siblings, but younger naive you clung to the wrong brotherly figure. 

He and Robin had such a tight bond, and you, being an only child, envied them. So when you were invited to playdates, you enjoyed every second being with them. 

The fond memories of you and Sunday supporting Robin's dreams. Sneaking into the kitchen to grab snacks without getting caught. You three grew so close, you practically were their third sibling. 

But happiness doesn't last long. The more you all grew up and followed different paths, the more distant you guys became. Of course, there are still attempts to meet up, but it was difficult. Most of the time, you were left behind with Sunday, the man you called big brother. 

Could you really call him that anymore though? He made little effort to keep ties with you. Check in on you. You understand that him and Robin obviously had a closer bond. Therefore, he'd pay more attention to her, but you? It's like he was trying to erase you from his life. 

No. That's not right. He distances himself from you and lets you fall into loneliness. Yes, that's true. But then why does he keep coming back every time you're at your breaking point? 

“What's wrong? You can always tell me anything. I am your big brother, after all.” 

It's the same thing every time. 

He asks you what's wrong. You break down. He consoles you. Then leaves and the cycle repeats. And every time you refuse to talk, he'll manipulate your emotions to speak and cause you to break down even more. 

Why would a big brother do this to his younger sibling? 

You couldn't take the emotional hurt anymore. It's like he just sees this as a game. He always uses the big brother card on you knowing it's your weakness. 

Things get worse though. Of course they do. 

You caught news that Robin has been found dead. That can't be right. It can't. You loved Robin as if she were your actual sister. Why did she die?? 

So here you are. Walking to the estate where Sunday should be. Why are you even going to him? You should be distancing yourself and be grieving alone. As much as he emotionally hurts you, you still care about him. As much as he abandons you, you always come back. 

As soon as you make it through his office doors, someone aggressively grabs you by the shoulders and backs you up to the nearest wall. 

It's Sunday. 

He's shaking, breathing hard, clearly angry, but hurt above all. He rests his head on your shoulder, still holding you but with less force. 

You've never seen him like this before. In the past, you'd occasionally see tiny outbursts when he couldn't get things the way he wanted, but he never displayed this much emotion near you. 

“...Don't leave me too” he said in a shaky voice, but you couldn't catch that. All you could hear was your heartbeat from the adrenaline of suddenly being forced against a wall. 

Out of genuine care you still held for him, you embraced him. He stiffened up but soon accepted it. 

No matter how much you regretted ever calling him big brother, no matter how much it hurt when he abandoned you, you couldn't find it within your heart to leave and move on. 

Comforting him was clearly a mistake. For out of fear he'd lose his only other sibling, he imprisoned you in a spare room in his estate. 

He still had to keep up appearances so you'd constantly be left alone repeatedly. The cycle repeats itself again. He'll come back home and comfort you for leaving you alone for so long, then leave again for a long period of time. 

You'd never escape. You had so many insecurities and were so emotionally constipated. Sunday made things worse. He just had to keep you somewhere where he knew he couldn't lose track of you and possibly lose you just like Robin.

You still loved him. You always would. And he in return would offer you the type of love you never got from your actual family, even if it was just for a bit. 

To you, he was your beloved older brother no matter what.

#honkai star rail #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #found family trope gone wrong #platonic relationships

[dwtdog]

Nursing Home AU, from the list of reverse tropes

DNF, ~1.7k words, fun little drabble as a break from finals :33

George’s walker catches on a stray piece of carpet and he grumbles, waving off the nearby nurse who turns her head toward him. He can handle this himself, thank you very much.

He straightens his back as he nears the door that he knows opens to the room just above his, all the complaints he’s built up in the weeks since his upstairs neighbors moved in at the tip of his tongue as he raises a fist to knock, grunting slightly at the way his shoulder creaks with the effort.

After three quick, hard knocks that he’s sure will be audible through whatever hearing impairment burdens the person behind the door, he studies the decorations with a careful eye. There are unframed pictures scattered across the door, some close to falling off the weak adhesives that secure them. George has to hold himself back from pressing them back down, telling himself that whoever is pictured in them probably deserves to have their treasured family pictures swept up by the night workers.

Because they’ve made George’s life a living hell.

He didn’t think his time in a nursing home could get any worse, until this neighbor moved in. It was like they had bricks attached to the bottoms of their shoes and frequently performed tap dancing routines, or like they had a particularly rambunctious pet elephant that traipsed around the place at all hours of the day.

George had done his best to be patient. He really had, but it’d been long enough. He’s dealing with this here, and now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door handle turns, and the solid wood slowly eases open towards him. He shuffles back to avoid being hit, because he doesn’t exactly trust them to be caring of his health now.

The deep frown that he’s been wearing since he was awoken that morning by thundering footsteps directly above his bed shifts to something softer when he sees the man opening the door.

The first thing George notices about him are the eyes- a golden yellow that he knows is really green, set in a kind face weathered with smile lines. The second thing George notices is that he does not, in fact, have bricks attached to his shoes, and that brings the frown right back to his face.

“Uh- Hello. How can I help you?” the man asks, and he sounds nice enough. George thinks it’s an elaborate front.

“Are you aware,” George starts, bringing his eyes up from the mans shoes. “That there are people living below you?”

He blinks. “It would be pretty weird if they didn’t, yeah?”

“So you are aware them,” George clears his throat, crossing his arms. “That you should consider that before stomping around up here like a bull with dementia?”

George almost finds it satisfying, to watch the way his expression goes from open and friendly to sour, the way his stance comes to mirror George’s, down to the crossed arms. 

“So it’s a sin for a man to walk around his own house now is it?” he says, and George finds it hard to take him seriously with the ridiculous hat covering silvery hair- it’s pointed at the corners, taking a shape similar to the ears of a cat. “Just turn down your hearing aids.”

“Don’t need them,” George says curtly, rubbing a finger over the skin of his left ring finger, a habit he hadn’t dropped since his divorce. It draws his eyes to the same place on the man across from him, and he notices that he wears no ring either. “And it is a sin if you’re disrupting my sleep.”

He looks ready to argue back, but his eyes dart down to the movement of George’s finger, and he seems to change his mind. “Listen if you want to debate the bible, the lady three doors down can go for hours. Let’s say, instead, you come in for a cup of hot chocolate. Get all your complaining out.”

George shifts on his feet, feeling his hip pop as he does, and it reminds him that sitting down sometime soon would be nice….

“Fine. But if there’s no vodka in that chocolate I’m stealing something.”

With a small smile that makes George’s heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in decades, the man steps aside, pushing the door all the way open. “I’m Dream, by the way. I don’t think you introduced yourself.”

“George,” he replies as he steps forward, struggling for a moment to lift his walker over the edge between the hall and Dream’s carpet. “Strange name.”

Dream laughs, and George is distracted from looking over every inch of his apartment when a small animal appears, walking with its tail held high. 

“You have a cat,” he observes, and Dream turns from where he’d been pouring milk to heat up. George sets his walker to the side as he ever so carefully crouches down to pet the thing, smiling to himself when it purrs.

“He likes you,” Dream says, and there’s a note of fondness in his voice. “That’s Spirit. He probably hates my stomping just as much as you do.”

“Oh, you’re a smart one then, aren’t you,” George coos, rubbing under the cats chin. He’s a big cat, with long orange fur and some spots of gray on his muzzle, and ridiculously long whiskers that tickle where they brush against George’s leg. “You ought to bite him more. Maybe piss on his bed,” George says in a faux whiper, leaning down as much as he can.

“Oh, so now you’re trying to turn my cat against me?” Dream says, and George nearly jumps from the sudden proximity. “Need a hand up?”

George huffs, glaring at the offered hand but taking it anyway, groaning loudly as he stands. “So you can walk quietly,” he grumbles, eyeing the distance between he kitchenette and his current position.

“Only when I want to” Dream says with a wink, and George really wishes he still had his own cane- a much better weapon. “Come here, sit down before I have to call someone to help you. God forbid that new one- what’s her name- Rosa, god forbid she shows up. She’d have you on the ambulance in a matter of minutes.”

George laughs, following as Dream leads him to a chair in the living area, acutely aware of their still connected hands. “She on this floor too? Sent my neighbor to hospice for a cough. Haven’t seen her since.”

As George lowers himself onto the chair, Dream still doesn’t let his hand go, and George can feel a blush, of all things, creeping up his neck and staining his face.

“You planning to hold my hand forever, or-” George suggests, just as the microwave beeps. “Don’t tell me you microwaved the milk.”

“How else would I do it?” Dream asks, pulling his hand back and turning back to his microwaved milk. “You want peppermint?”

“I want vodka. And I don’t know, on the stove, maybe?”

“Too much work,” Dream says cheerily, and George sighs, long and exaggerated. 

He looks around Dream’s living space as he waits, noting the various pictures with his seemingly excessively large family. It’s not the only thing he’s looking for, but he can’t help but notice the lack of any sort of spouse.

“Snooping around already?” Dream asks as he returns, two steaming mugs in his hands. “You could probably find my whole life’s story on these walls.”

George meets his eye as he hands a mug over, wrapping his easily chilled hands around it gratefully. Dream takes the chair opposite his, and watches as George takes his first sip. As much as he wants to hate whatever microwaved monstrosity is swirling in the mug, he has to admit that it tastes damn good.

“‘T’s good,” he says into the mug, not missing the way Dream’s face lights up at the admission. “Family recipe?”

“Nope, all mine,” Dream says with a grin. “Come on, I know you have questions. Hit me.”

George hums, making a show of thinking it over. The burning question feels too obvious, and too revealing. He’s only just met this man a few minutes ago, he shouldn’t be asking about his love life. And yet-

“No wife?” he asks bluntly, taking a big sip right after. 

Dream laughs, setting his own mug aside as he leans forward, planting his elbows on his knees. “Nope. Never settled down. Always felt like I was chasing something just out of reach, like I needed to wait until the perfect person came along. And now look at me,” he laughs again, this time sounding more forced. “Left in a home to die alone. Probably doesn’t help I only realized it wasn’t a wife I should have been looking for what, ten years ago?”

George leans back in his chair, studying Dream in a new light. “Trust me, men aren’t worth it either. My husband filed for divorce, what, 20 years back? Never even bothered to tell me why. One day there, the next, gone. Took everything too.”

“That why you ended up in Florida? Don’t meet many British people around here.”

“Wanted to die under the sun,” George says easily, the alcohol warming his veins. “London was too grey, too many memories. I always loved it here.”

They sit in silence for a bit after that, only broken by Spirit jumping up to George’s lap with a loud meow.

“So no kids?” George asks, easing one of Spirit’s big paws away from where it’s kneading at his shorts, claws digging into his skin.

“You’ve got the only one on your lap,” Dream says. “Well, grandkid, technically. His mom was mine too.”

George nods, tangling his fingers in the long fur. “You ever think about second chances?”

“I think I’m on third’s by now,” Dream chuckles, meeting George’s eyes curiously. “Why, you rethinking the way you introduced yourself?”

“In your dream’s,” George says with a grin. “But I wouldn’t mind coming over again- to tell you off, probably.”

“And to pet my cat. And drink my vodka.”

“That too,” George nods. “Might need to visit a lot, then.”

“Well,” Dream shifts in his seat, and he appears to be fighting off a smile. It still reaches his eyes, and George can’t help but think of the man he sees on the walls- happy, glowing. Hopeful. “Then I guess I’d have to let you in. As an apology for the stomping.”

#cq.writing #dnf #old man yaoi 🎉 #if yall want any of the other prompts lmk this was fun

[rebelliousstories]

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist

There was something different about this girl from the surface. Zylia Shelley was unlike anything anyone had ever met. Pink eyes, skin and hair devoid of color, and a peculiar appetite. She caught the attention of a certain Ghoul, and not in the way either one would like.

Cooper Howard did not want to care for anyone after losing his family. He has spent two hundred years alone, and he will spend the next two hundreds alone too. So when he gets this weird girl dumped on him, he is not a bit happy about it.

The two outcasts strike up an unusual partnership that slowly morphs into some form of caring for the other person. No, they will not say they are in love.

~

Ongoing~ Updated on Fridays (Last Update: Friday April 26th, 2024)

~

Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Chapter One: Ten Thousand Candles

Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.

Chapter Two: My Thriller Scandal (May 3rd, 2024)

He has decided that he is equally impressed and pissed at Zylia as she proves to be a formidable opponent.

Chapter Three: Take A Bite (May 10th, 2024)

When it comes to his cold, undead, somehow beating heart, Cooper goes back and forth on whether or not to use it on Zylia.

Chapter Four: Home Is Your Teeth Sink (May 17th, 2024)

After two hundred years, Cooper thought he had seen it all. But he has no clue what fresh hell Zylia is up to.

Chapter Five: Take You In Real Slow (May 24th, 2024)

Finding an unlikely companion, Cooper can not help but to be amazed by the woman before him.

Chapter Six: Connect With The Sound (May 31st, 2024)

More tales and old wounds are brought to light around a campfire, and there is something interesting enough for Zylia to want to stick around with him.

Chapter Seven: Connect With My Body (June 7th, 2024)

Raiders, fiends, other ghouls, other humans; there is no shortage of people who would look to do harm to someone as rare as Zylia or as common and grotesque as Cooper. Does not mean that either one should be used to this sort of treatment.

Chapter Eight: My Tongue and Smoke (June 14th, 2024)

A budding partnership is born, and the two mutants realize the same thing at the same time; they are not as alone as they thought.

Chapter Nine: Something Darker On Your Mind (June 21st, 2024)

Cooper would argue that he does not have a soft side anymore. And even if you see him helping Zylia in a time of need, no you did not.

Chapter Ten: Teeth Are Where Your Heart Was (June 28th, 2024)

There is something so intimate about sitting on the same abandoned couch in the middle of the desert with a fire blazing ahead.

Chapter Eleven: Don’t Ever Let Me Go (July 5th, 2024)

Zylia has an epiphany. Cooper has a realization. Neither one of them get that the other person is going through the same thing.

Chapter Twelve: Tear Right Through Me (July 12th, 2024)

How far are you willing to go for someone that you care for?

Chapter Thirteen: Welcome You To Try (July 19th, 2024)

Such tender moments are not common in the Wastelands. You have to hold them tight and not let go when you do have them.

Chapter Fourteen: Kiss Me, Kiss Me (July 26th, 2024)

Time to put those old cowboy skills to work.

Chapter Fifteen: I Wanna See Your Teeth (August 2nd, 2024)

While Cooper is busy finding out how to get her back, Zylia is fighting as much as she can with what little she has left.

Chapter Sixteen: Kiss Me You Animal (August 9th, 2024)

One final showdown. One final goodbye. One final kiss.

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x oc #fallout imagine #fallout #Kiss Me You Animal series

[dangermousie]

Finished Blossoms in Adversity.

It was a pretty flawed drama, and Hu Yitian remains the second least watchable leading man in cdramas for me but it really was consistently the airing drama I'd watch FIRST - it really was an addicting watch despite its flaws.

The best thing? I don't know how they managed to get it past the censors, but they actually had the emperor as the Big Bad.

He was the one who exiled FL's family men unjustly, he was the one who punished and messed with her because he didn't like his nephew caring for anyone outside of him, and as the above scene indicates, even his gaslit/brainwashed/enmeshed in abused fashion nephew finally had enough. Every positive character who had an opinion hated him (FL literally called him out at one point!) and all the negative ones did too. He was not shown to do any of his petty, cruel, arbitrary things for the greater good but because he was a paranoid, self-absorbed man.

The best part? No last minute, death bed redemption of any kind. You think there would be one, as he lies dying from poison (inflicted by his own son! with the help of a foreign agent who is portrayed as justified and sympathetic!) but nope. Gu Yanxi, who realistically still loves his abusive as fuck father figure (because that's how it goes in rl), is all "I am sorry for stuff I did/said, I still love you, I will remain security head blah blah") and I expected the emperor to say he loved him and no pls go live your best life, find your happiness, I am sorry for being a bastard daddy etc etc but NOPE. Emperor just says "Yanxi" and croaks. (And same with his one remaining child, the sixth prince. He does not repent for how he treated his small son who saved his life, he does not appoint him heir etc. It's the dowager who trots the kid out.)

It's pretty telling that everyone gets a happy ending but only after the old monster croaks. The kid emperor pardons the Hua men who come back, Yanxi gives up his awful job and gets married and he and Hua Zhi peace the hell out of politics and business and just travel the world all over with no responsibilities etc etc.

I also liked how realistically tailored to various people the ending was in terms of happiness. Youngest uncle and aunt and their daughter go traveling, and I loved that - they were my faves except for sister and her OTP. Sister and her boo are in court, SML (who really wasn't - he never really pined and barely showed up) is a royal tutor, various younger married ladies have their own happiness (and I love that for one of them, it's a very realistic happiness of ruling her not attractive husband's concubines, business and household and getting his respect and buy in. She was neither looking for nor getting true love and that was fine with her) and the older generation of women also finding their calling that isn't just about the husbands (business, charity work etc etc.)

#cdrama #blossoms in adversity #hu yitian #zhang jingyi

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 5.1 - how soon is now?

Rating: mature (homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

December 1983 - junior year

Stepping off of the school bus with Robin close behind you, you immediately began scanning the Hawkins High parking lot for Eddie and his beat up van.

And there he was.

Leaning casually against the side of his van, one leg propped up on the tire. It was hard to miss the unusual creature that called himself Eddie Munson.

You tugged on Robin's backpack strap. "See you later, yeah? Cover for me with Mom and Dad if I'm not back by dinner," thinking for a moment, you laughed. "Actually, maybe consider calling Hopper if I mysteriously disappear after this."

Robin chuckled, "He does have a legitimate kidnapper's van. But hey, maybe he'll try to lure you in with free candy or puppies."

Sticking out her pinky finger to you, your sister hooked it around yours before saying goodbye.

Normally, you would exit the school bus each morning and look around for Nancy, or maybe Chrissy Cunningham, who you were friends with briefly in middle school. You used to look for Barb, too, with her glowing red hair and kind smile. 

You assumed Nancy was with Steve Harrington and their group. Lately, the popular crowd had been irking you, making the base of your skull ache with apprehension. The idea of them not being quality friends and judging you behind your back made you think of your parents. 

You did a lot of thinking in your spare time - about your family, school, stuff like that. You were naturally an overthinker. That's why you picked at your fingers so much.

Most of your thoughts that week were more focused on your social life, though, including the crazy-haired boy that stumbled into your line of attention by simply giving you a tattoo and being genuine.

You wanted that for yourself. You wanted to feel comfortable in your own skin. You wanted Robin to feel comfortable in her own skin, too. How long had they been conforming to the mold your parents put them in, for fear of chastisement? Or, in Robin's case, conversion therapy.

Shaking your head and vowing to start a new day, you meandered over to Eddie. You wondered if he would ever not look slightly shocked when you talked to him in public.

"Good morning, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

He sipped on a paper cup of what looked like black coffee, eyeing you through the steam that was coming off the hot liquid. You tried not to stare at his lips as he licked them.

"Wanna ditch school with me today?" you said quickly.

☾

You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way?

☾

Ten minutes into driving and you were already bickering with each other. 

Eddie couldn't keep his mouth shut. And you couldn't stop your fiery temper from taking the bait.

"...all I'm saying is, I don't understand why you're friends with those jocks."

You huffed for what felt like the millionth time, looking out the window of his van. "And I told you already, I'm not really friends with them. Nancy, yeah, but not the guys."

"And why not?"

Eyes wide, you snapped a little. "You just asked me why I'm friends with them. Now you're asking me why I'm not?"

The grin on Eddie's face was contagious, apparently, almost making you smile back. His outrageous, carefree attitude reminded you of why you wanted to skip school with him to begin with.

"Fine, fine. New question."

"Great," you replied with heavy sarcasm.

"What about me?" Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but glanced your way for a split second. "Why the hell are we suddenly hanging out with each other?"

"Because I asked you to ditch school with me today," you replied simply. 

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, but you know what I meant."

The girl in his passenger seat thought for a minute or two, trying to find the right words. You knew he deserved some kind of explanation. Especially after kissing him out of nowhere at the party. Hell, he probably thought you were a typical popular kid playing a prank on him.

You picked absentmindedly at the stray fibers sticking out of the woven seat cover. 

"I dunno, I feel like I can trust you, in a way. Like you're not going to run off and tell the whole school all the juicy details."

"I don't kiss and tell, Buckley."

You waved in his direction. "Exactly. Thanks for not telling anyone about the tattoo, either."

Eddie seemed unusually serious for a moment. "No problem."

"You know, I'm sure it would take less than a day for Carol Perkins to spread rumors about me if she had the right ammo for it. She's always had it out for me. And I never did shit to her!"

The boy beside you chuckled. "It's because you're prettier than her. And a lot less annoying," he paused before adding one last comment. "Not to mention her boyfriend Tommy drools over you every chance he gets."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. You never noticed?"

"Well… no. He's a douchebag."

The van was at a stoplight in the middle of downtown. Though the weather was bitterly cold, you could still see shoppers walking along the storefronts.

"So, I've recently come into some money," Eddie began. "Ten whole dollars to be exact. What do you think about grabbing some hot chocolate?"

The corners of your lips lifted into a smile. "Sure."

He rounded the corner, pulling up to the nearly empty small diner. 

Over two cups of hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream for you, the two teenagers chatted happily. 

It felt natural for you. For the first time since you could remember, you felt comfortable. Your sharp edges softened. The wall you had built up to shield your heart was still standing strong, but there was a tiny window on it that you allowed Eddie Munson to peer through.

You learned about the love he had for his guitar, the dreams he had for his future in the music business. You learned, sadly, that he didn't get along with his dad and that his mother left when Eddie was just a kid.

And most importantly, he made you laugh. Usually, Robin was the only one who could do that. But the difference between Eddie and Robin was that you had the natural urge to protect your little sister. You didn't burden Robin with any more stress than she already had to deal with. 

With Eddie, you looked at him as an equal, and maybe you didn't have to hide your deep, dark thoughts. 

A few hours later, you both made your way back to Eddie's van.

"You know, I've never driven a car before."

The leather-clad boy stopped dead in his tracks, one pale hand resting on the hood of the van.

"Come again?"

"I can't drive. No one's ever taught me," you tugged on the passenger side door handle. "Pick your jaw up off the floor and unlock the van! I'm freezing, dingus."

Finally inside with the heat blasting through the old vents, Eddie turned to you as you rubbed your hands together furiously. 

"Well, there's only one thing left to do now."

For a second, seeing the look on his mischievous face, you were scared that he was going to kiss you. Well, scared was the wrong word. 

You definitely wanted to kiss him again. A part of you wanted to re-do the first kiss. It shouldn't have been a quick peck on the lips in the dark, only for you to run away afterwards. You figured it was a necessity to get the first kiss over with, though. Now, you wanted another one, but maybe with a bit more... romance? 

Ugh, you thought inwardly. Romantic wasn't a word to describe you or Eddie fucking Munson.

But he didn't kiss you. He reached a calloused finger towards you and booped you on the nose like a little kid.

"I'm gonna teach you how to drive, Buckley."

☾

I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

☾

"Slow down! Pump the brakes."

"I'm trying!"

"The hell you're not!"

"Stop being an ass! We're fine."

Eddie spoke deliberately, face calm. "Put your foot on the brakes before you kill the both of us."

He was just giving you shit, because in reality, you were just fine. He took you to a large abandoned factory that had an expansive parking lot to practice driving in. There was nothing even slightly close for you to crash into.

If Eddie was being totally honest, the sight of a woman, specifically you, behind the wheel of his beloved van was enough to drive him wild. After spending nearly an entire day with the spunky Buckley girl, his spank bank was overflowing.

He never even let Gareth or any of his friends drive the van. Besides his guitar, it was his most prized possession.

He couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to teach you how to drive. It was like taking someone’s virginity - it can only be done to a person once. Eddie felt honored to be the first to teach you, even if he never ended up being any other firsts for you. But he had to slap those thoughts into oblivion as his jeans suddenly felt tight, causing him to sigh and fog up the window beside him.

What better than a day of hooky, hot chocolate, and reckless driving?

After a while of cruising at an insane speed of five miles per hour, you seemed to get more comfortable with pressing gently on the gas pedal and then alternating to the brakes. You were pretty good with the steering but your lead foot needed Jesus.

You slowed to a complete stop, shifting into park. "See? I told you we were fine."

"Hey, I just gotta look out for my precious… Brenda here," Eddie replied, rubbing his hand on the sun-bleached dashboard.

You stared at the boy, a smile tickling your lips. "Did you just make up that name?"

He tried to keep a straight face, but busted out laughing. "Yeah, I don't know. It was the first one I could think of. The van doesn't really have a name."

Eddie couldn't remember the last time he was in such a good mood. 

"Well, she has a name now. Brenda." 

You looked around, both of your hands still on the wheel. Your wandering eyes inspected the radio, then drifted towards Eddie. The look in your eyes was mysterious to him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring out the window towards the decrepit factory in front of you. "Nothing, really. Just a lot of firsts for me lately."

A knot formed in his stomach as your words mirrored his earlier thoughts. Curiosity taking hold of him, he couldn’t help but pry. "Like…?"

You had a neurotic habit of picking at things when you tried to explain serious business. He watched patiently as you scratched at the peeling paint on the driver's side door.

"Driving, obviously. Skipping school. That was kinda my first… kiss the other day, too."

If you were ever planning to tell him this information without him asking, Eddie would never know. But he was shocked. He let out a quick, unintentional laugh. He didn't mean for it to sound rude... but the words were already spilling out.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

He sounded very rude.

You looked suddenly defensive. "Yes, Eddie, I'm lying to your face." Your voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes turned cold.

"Back it up, sunshine. I'm not making fun of you," he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But, like, why? Why me? If it's 'cause you were drinking, I totally understand if it was a mistak-"

"No," you interrupted firmly, "Not a mistake." And then you went silent.

Looking again at the clock on the radio, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out. 

"I've got to get home soon. I don't want my parents to know I ditched."

"Won't the school call them since you didn't show up?"

"Probably, but they've been at work all day. They don't usually get home until after my sister and I get off the bus."

Trading seats with you in the van, Eddie followed your directions and drove you home. He felt a little insecure at the sight of your nice, perfectly maintained middle class home. He worried that you would have a conniption fit at the sight of the house he shared with his father.

"Thanks for everything today, Eddie Munson."

He stared at you, wondering what was going through your mind. But instead of inquiring, he let you go. You waved a quick goodbye at the brown-eyed boy before disappearing into the house.

☾

I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and heir Of nothing in particular

☾

"Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord we pray, Amen."

Dinnertime in the Buckley household was underway. From what you could tell, your parents had no clue that you skipped school that day. Shoveling mashed potatoes onto her plate, your mother looked at you and Robin.

"So, girls, tell us about your day."

You both exchanged identical looks before your parents could notice something was off. The eldest Buckley daughter responded with haste.

"My day was good. Not much homework with winter break coming up."

Your mother smiled at you. "I'm so excited for Father Humphrey's service on Christmas Eve. Aren't you, Richard?"

Grumbling something about being up late on a holiday, her father shrugged. "How about you, Robin? Did anything interesting happen at school today?"

You could see the internal battle in Robin's head, trying to think of a proper thing to say. 

"Oh, yeah. I was selected to do a new song in band. So I practiced that a lot today."

Melissa Buckley giggled. "That's great news, Robin. A solo? You're so talented, sweetie."

"No, not a solo. More of a… duet."

"And who is the lucky boy, dear?"

You knew that the duet was with a girl, which is the main reason why Robin was so excited about it to begin with. But Robin knew the protocol.

"Uh, Kevin… Kevin Brown." Totally made up name.

Your father finally spoke, his mouth full of food. "See, Y/N, why aren't you more like your sister? If you keep avoiding boys, the whole town is going to think you're one of those… homosexuals."

"Richard!" your mother scolded, straightening up in her chair.

"What? You know I'm right. The girl is seventeen. Prom is coming up. I've never heard a single boy's name come out of her mouth. She spends too much time with that Wheeler girl, and you know they're a bunch of sinners."

Resisting the urge to flip the entire fucking table, you remained stone-faced as you responded. You could feel Robin kicking your leg underneath the table.

"Actually, father, I have plans with a boy this week."

He snorted. "Is that so?"

You politely dabbed your mouth with the expensive cotton napkin, face red with silent anger, then stood up from your chair.

"Yes, and he agreed to teach me how to drive. So maybe I can get my license in the spring."

Your mother set down her silverware. "Darling, is that really necessary? What's this boy's name?"

"Eddie Munson."

Slam.

Richard Buckley pounded a fist on the table, then pointed at you. "I forbid this. You know what kind of reputation that family has. His father is a drunk and a heathen."

"Please…" Robin pulled on the edge of your shirt. Not worth it, she mouthed at you.

You looked your father directly into his eyes, the color so much like your own. But he didn't back down.

"I forbid this, Y/N," he repeated coolly. "If I see you with that Munson boy, you'll be spending your entire senior year in a private school, where you can focus on your studies and repent."

☾

When you say it's gonna happen now When exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone

☾

(song lyrics credit: "How Soon Is Now?" by The Smiths)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[olderthannetfic]

I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

--

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

--

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Rest in peace Perona her efforts will not be in vain… she’s having the formative sapphic experience of Definitely flirting with someone but them being too oblivious to ever pick it up so they’re just stuck in a friendship hole.

And the boys with Zoro 😭 they’re not doing any better . They miss their brother…!

Though thinking about it with what you said about not really believing in soul marks in regards to Zoro and zosan being implied to be soulmates, I feel like if that ever came up they’d tear him a new one . Zoro is entirely decked out in threes. The swords, the earrings, he prefers doing things in sets of three (new thing he didn’t know about himself that the brothers point out to him actually) , so is their three just not good enough for him??? Huh ???

Though also that leads me to ask. How are zosan in this au? I imagine they’re kinda turbulent in their usual way, but it would be fun to know more 👁️

- Wine

THIS IS SO LONG WINE! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME??

(thank you this is very fun)

Perona will never be forgotten! Mihawk will also make sure she knows her failures are not her fault, but that it is quite funny to see her fail. Perona argues that it's easier for him and Sora just because they have soulmarks. Sora then tells them about their first meeting and that it was a whole event and she's surprised the guards didn't kill him. Mihawk argues that he would have just kidnapped her then and there and killed the guards if they wouldn't release him. Sora just frowning at him with crossed arms. Mihawk stares back and points out it was an entirely valid option.

Where as 124ji miss their brother and whine about not being able to talk to him or get any updates on him for two years. They look at the hilts and braids on Zoro's swords and think of their brother and his mark. They ask Zoro about his mark and he shrugs and shows them. It's a school of all different types of fish in the bluest blue they've seen but it's on his back. They ask if they know who his soulmate is because they know. They can tell who it is but Zoro has no clue and doesn't care really. So they don't tell him. When Mihawk finds out he asks Zoro why he thinks denying himself will make him stronger at some point during their training together. Zoro says he wants to focus on fulfilling his dream and making sure Luffy becomes the king of the pirates. Mihawk sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and points out he didn't get become the greatest until he was in his thirties, after he saved Sora and started raising all the kids. Zoro shrugs and says that doesn't know what that has to do with him and Mihawk says it's a waste to ignore the power of having something to protect, that having that person, that family draws a strength greater than just wanting to be the the greatest.

Zoro shrugs and 124ji bemoan their brother going through soulmate rejection because they remember the rose colored view of soulmates Sanji had. Zoro looks at them with confusion and Niji says they were right about it when they were younger. Zoro asks what they mean and they point out the three swords, three earrings, that he does do things in three so what is about Sanji that he doesn't like so he rejects his soulmate. Zoro is staring at them. Because they're clearly fed up and they're talking about how they were right when they were younger about his soulmate not loving him as much as they do. Zoro argues he's never even seen the cook's soulmark and Mihawk chides his sons to be quiet. Zoro didn't want to know or be held back by his soulmate after all.

Zoro of course is thinking back to the cook asking him about soulmates in Cocoyashi after they saved Nami and her village and what he told the cook who nodded and stayed quiet. The agression and snide remarks. Of course it had to be the cook. Zoro always found Sanji when the blond got lost in the woods and always tailored food to him. So now Zoro, who's kinda been a dick to his soulmate for months and he's staying with his family and planning to kill his dad. The blond who has been telling people he knows his soulmate but they're not together, won't ever be together. The blond who sometimes gets a faraway look in his eye before going back to give his all to care for the crew.

Also like Sanji has to absolutely have game if Zoro "rejected" him. With all the flirting he was doing as a teen hoping to find his soulmate he has gotta have so much fucking game. So Zoro is with Mihawk and Sora and their kids and Perona as he running through the gambit of emotions of what happened up until Sabaody and he just looks like when Perona hit him with a ghost on Thriller Bark. Perona is yelling at Zoro that he's been so fucking dum and not cute because only he could reject his soulmate who is a one way ticket to Mihawk.

#black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #zoro roronoa #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk x sora #dracule mihawk #mihawk x sora #vinsmoke sora #vinsmoke reiju #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #1234ji #vinsmoke brothers #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke siblinga #answers #soulmate au #sanzo #loved!sanji #perona

[hd-junglebook]

Does He Know

Part 2

Word Count - 3023

The bedroom was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the nightstand and the distant hum of traffic outside the window. The once-comforting space now felt cold and unfamiliar, as if the revelation of Vince's cheating had tainted every corner of their shared life.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, the revelation of Vince's betrayal pressing down on her like a physical force. The hotel receipt lay crumpled in her hand even days after the discovery, the damning evidence of his infidelity a tangible reminder of the shattered trust between them.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the tracks of her tears still glistening on her cheeks. Her normally vibrant face was pale and drawn, the light in her eyes dimmed by the pain and confusion swirling in her heart. She stared blankly at the floor, the plush carpet blurring before her as fresh tears welled up, obscuring her vision.

Vince stood in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hunched in a posture of guilt and remorse. He watched Y/N, his heart aching at the sight of her so broken and lost. The urge to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and beg for forgiveness, was overwhelming, but he hesitated, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, talk to me. It’s been a week and you haven’t said a word. I ended things with her, I want to put you first. We can work through this. You know I love you."

Y/N's head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and anguish. "You love me?" she repeated, her voice raw and trembling. "How do we work through the fact that you betrayed me, that you broke our vows, that you..." her voice broke, a sob tearing from her throat. "How could you do this to me, to us? You told me you wanted to have a family and the next day you go and cheat."

Vince took a tentative step into the room, his hand outstretched in a gesture of supplication. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "It was a mistake, a moment of weakness. I was feeling insecure and went out to find something to fix it. It didn't mean anything more than that, I swear."

Y/N shook her head, a mirthless laugh escaping her lips. "It meant something to me," she said, her voice barely audible. "It meant everything to me. Our marriage, our love, our future... it was all a lie."

Vince crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping to his knees before her, his hands reaching for hers. Y/N flinched at his touch, pulling away, the hotel receipt fluttering to the floor between them. The sight of it, lying there like a boundary, a divide, was too much for Vince to bear.

"Please," he begged, his voice thick with tears. "Don't give up on us. I know I hurt you, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but please, don't let this be the end."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his face, looking for some glimmer of the man she had loved, the man she had trusted with her heart. But all she saw was a stranger, a man capable of deceit and betrayal. The pain in her chest intensified, a physical ache that took her breath away.

"I don't know if you deserve that," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I don’t want to trust that."

Vince's shoulders slumped, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow. He bowed his head, tears dripping onto the carpet. Y/N watched him, her own heart breaking, torn between the love she still felt for him and the unbearable pain of his betrayal.

…

Y/N sat at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of her. The cursor blinked mockingly, the empty document a reflection of the emptiness she felt inside. Her eyes drifted to the small slip of paper tucked beneath a stack of files, the edges peeking out invitingly. Jack's number. She had taken it on a whim at their last family gathering, not really intending to use it, but now...

Before she could second-guess herself, Y/N reached for the paper, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the number into her phone. She held her breath as it rang once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" Jack's voice was slightly breathless, as if he had been in the middle of something.

"Jack? It's Y/N. I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" Y/N bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Y/N! No, no, it's fine. I just got out of practice, that's all. What's up?" Jack's tone was warm, friendly, and Y/N felt herself slightly relaxing.

"I was just wondering if you might want to grab a coffee later? I could use a friendly face and some good conversation." Y/N held her breath, waiting for his response.

"How could I possibly refuse coffee with such a beautiful woman?" Jack's voice was playful, teasing, and Y/N found herself laughing despite herself. She didn’t even remember the last time Vince called her beautiful or anything romantic at all for that matter.

"Great. How about that little place on Main Street, say around 4?" she asked.

"It's a date then. I'll see you there." With a click, the line went dead, and Y/N found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement in her stomach. The sound of the office door opening startled her, and she looked up to see Vince standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Who were you talking to?" he asked, his tone slightly accusatory.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering. "A family friend, Jack. We're going to grab coffee later."

Vince's face darkened, his jaw clenching. "Really, Y/N? You're going to start hanging out with other guys now? I thought we were supposed to be working on our marriage, not complicating things further."

Y/N felt a spark of anger flare in her chest. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, Vince when I’m not even sure I wanna be with you. You're the one who complicated our marriage by sleeping with someone else for four months. I'm just trying to find a little bit of independence outside of you and support where I can."

Vince ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I hurt you. But you trying to get even with me is not allowed. I'm trying to be there for you. Running off with some other guy who just wants to sleep with you isn't going to solve anything."

Y/N stood up, her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not running off with anyone, Vince. I'm having coffee with a friend. And frankly, I don't think you have any right to tell me who I can and can't spend time with, not after what you did. I will continue doing whatever the hell I want."

Vince opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N cut him off. "I can't do this with you right now, Vince. I need some space, far, far away from you. And I need to know that I have people in my life who I can count on, who I can trust. Right now, that's not you."

She grabbed her phone and pushed past him, ignoring the stricken look on his face. As she walked out of the office, she felt a sense of lightness, of freedom. She knew that her problems with Vince were far from over, that they had a long way to go if they were ever going to rebuild what they had lost.

…

They settled into the plush, worn leather armchairs, the rich burgundy color a warm contrast to the pale green walls of the cozy coffee shop. The late afternoon sun streamed through the large picture window, casting a golden glow over the polished wooden tabletops and the colorful artwork that adorned the walls.

Across from her, Jack leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back, his long legs stretched out beneath the table. He was dressed in a fitted navy blue henley that accentuated his broad shoulders and a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged his lean hips.

The gentle hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine created a soothing ambiance, a welcome respite from the chaos of her personal life. "So there I was, standing in the middle of the pet store, covered in dog food, and this little old lady comes up to me and says, 'Young man, I think you've got something on your shirt.'" Jack's voice was rich and warm, with a hint of mischief that made Y/N smile despite herself.

She laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and she felt some of the tension that had been coiled tight in her chest start to loosen. It felt good to laugh, to forget about her troubles for a moment and just enjoy the company of a friend.

Y/N cradled her mug of steaming hazelnut latte in both hands, the heat seeping into her skin and the rich, nutty aroma filling her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent, before taking a small sip. The creamy, slightly sweet liquid coated her tongue, and she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the flavor and the warmth wash over her.

When she opened them again, she found Jack watching her, his gaze intense and focused. He had one elbow propped on the table, his chin resting on his hand, and he was leaning forward slightly, as if drawn to her.

"You know, Y/N," he said softly, his voice low and intimate, “He doesn’t know how lucky he is does he? To be married to someone so gorgeous and interesting as you.  He must always let you down, he probably doesn’t even buy you flowers or cook dinner. you're handling it with such grace and resilience."

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck at his words, and she glanced down at her mug, suddenly shy. "that’s what happens when men aren’t in love with you anymore," she murmured, tracing the rim of the cup with her finger. "And I’m not handling it gracefully at all. Most days, I feel like I'm barely keeping it together."

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Jack said, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. "And you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, whenever you need me."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. There was something in Jack's gaze, in his touch, that made her feel seen, understood in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and she found herself leaning closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. "That means more to me than you know." Jack smiled, a slow, warm curve of his lips that made Y/N's stomach flip.

They sat there for a moment, lost in each other's gaze, the rest of the world fading away until it was just the two of them, connected by a thread of understanding and attraction that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

Finally, Y/N pulled her hand away, breaking the spell. She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the other patrons in the coffee shop, the clatter of dishes and the hum of conversation rushing back in. "We should probably find somewhere more quiet," she said, glancing at her watch. "It’s getting crowded in here."

As they left the coffee shop, Jack suggested a walk along the nearby beach. Y/N readily agreed, eager to feel the salty breeze on her face and the sand beneath her feet. They strolled along the shore, their shoulders brushing occasionally, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks a soothing rhythm.

Y/N found herself opening up to Jack in a way she hadn't with anyone else, not even Vince. She told him about the struggles in her marriage, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued her even before Vince's betrayal. Jack listened intently, his brow furrowed in concern, his hand occasionally reaching out to give hers a comforting squeeze.

The sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they settled down on the sand, side by side, watching the stars slowly emerge in the darkening sky. Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in longer than she could remember.

She glanced over at Jack, only to find him already staring at her, his gaze intense and filled with an emotion she couldn't quite name. Y/N's heart skipped a beat, a flutter of something dangerous and exciting stirring in her chest.

"You know," Jack said softly, his voice barely audible over the crash of the waves, "Vince is a fool for not realizing what he had in you. You deserve so much better, Y/N. You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will put you first, always."

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself leaning closer, drawn in by the magnetism of Jack's presence.

"And who might that someone be?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack's hand was warm and slightly rough against Y/N's cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gesture intimate and possessive. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she leaned into his touch. “I think you know," he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this was wrong, knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but in that moment, with the stars shining above them and Jack's touch setting her skin on fire, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Are you happy with him?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky. "I can do so much more for you than just make you happy."

Y/N shuddered at his words, a heat blooming in her core. She knew she should pull away, should put some distance between them, but she found herself drawn to Jack like a moth to a flame. His presence was intoxicating, his gaze hypnotic, and she felt herself falling under his spell.

"I..." Y/N's voice trailed off, her thoughts scattered and jumbled. She couldn't think straight, not with Jack's hand on her face and his body so close to hers. "I don't know anymore. Things with Vince are so complicated, so broken. I don't know if we can ever go back to the way things were."

Jack leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. "Then don't go back," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Move forward. With me."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a thrill of excitement and fear running through her. She knew that what Jack was offering was dangerous, that it could destroy what little was left of her marriage. But there was a part of her, a part that had been buried for so long, that yearned for the passion and excitement that Jack promised.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't. I'm still married. I made vows."

Jack's hand slid down to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Vows that Vince already broke," he reminded her, his tone gentle but insistent. "You deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deserve to be with someone who will cherish you, who will put you first."

Y/N's resolve wavered, her body responding to Jack's touch even as her mind screamed at her to stop. She knew that what he was saying made sense, that Vince had shattered their vows the moment he had slept with another woman. But still, she hesitated, torn between her desire for Jack and her sense of loyalty to her husband.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so confused, so lost."

Jack's other hand came up to cup her face, tilting her chin up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "Let me guide you," he murmured, his gaze intense and filled with promise. "Let me show you what it's like to be truly loved, truly desired."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing. She knew that she was standing on the edge of a precipice, that if she took this step, there would be no going back. But with Jack's hands on her skin and his words echoing in her ears, she found herself wanting to take that leap, to give in to the desire that had been building between them for weeks.

Slowly, tentatively, Y/N leaned in, her lips parting slightly. Jack met her halfway, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Y/N melted into him, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as she pressed her body against his.

For a moment, the world fell away, and there was nothing but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace. Y/N knew that there would be consequences, that she would have to face the fallout of her actions. But in that moment, with Jack's lips on hers and his hands roaming her body, she couldn't bring herself to care.

All that mattered was the fire that Jack had ignited within her, the passion and desire that had been missing from her life for so long.

…

#fluff #angst #new writers on tumblr #masterlist #new fic #x reader #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #timo meier #njd #new jersey devils #luke hughes #dawson mercer #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes masterlist #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x sister!reader #jh86

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

req for how Grayson would celebrate his so’s birthday please! 🩵

grayson celebrating his so's birthday

of course! the s/o can be whatever girl you want it to be (lyra, you, oc, etc). hope you like them <3.

he would wake her up by kissing her all over her face (he does this everyday, but he puts extra effort on her birthday) (nose kisses, forehead kisses, cheek kisses, etc)

he would literally spend thousands of dollars on her gifts and will have put a lot of time making/buying them.

he will compose her a piano piece ever single year. he performs it at night in the piano room when the two of them are alone.

he'll buy the outfit he wants her to wear prior to the birthday (he doesn't force her to wear it though, it's just something he likes doing/likes helping her out)

he'll wake her up with breakfast in bed and a bouquet of flowers (not roses though, he buys the rarest, most expensive flowers he can find)

he definitely sort of makes her birthday a full week/weekend thing. after they celebrate her birthday with the others, they go on a trip to like italy, spain, portugal, etc where they celebrate even more (if you know what i mean...)

he'd paint something for her. idk what it would be but i hc that gray is like the next picasso or some shit

every year, on her birthday, he adds a picture of her to this photo book he has of the two of them.

one year he got her this beautiful white gold necklace/bracelet/earring set (you can imagine it however you want)

he hires someone to do her hair and makeup for her.

other than physical gifts, he also gives her money for a spa day, concert, etc (he sometimes comes along if she wants him to)

the entire house will be decorated from floor to ceiling (the decorations are her favorite color). diamonds and sparkles are fucking everywhere. it makes her feel like a princess.

he also gets her 2491093480 books because she loves reading (or he brings her to the book store and tells her to take all of the books she wants)

they always end up watching a movie at the end of the day bc she loves watching movies/shows.

grayson helps libby bake her cake (libby could do it by herself but grayson wants to help bc its for his gf)

they eat outside during sunset and stay out long after the stars come out. she loves stargazing (they eat with the other brothers, avery, etc but they also have a date night the day after where they do pretty much the same thing)

he makes playlists for her that he thinks sort of sums up her year (idk if this makes sense) or just of songs that remind him of her

he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her. he'd always be holding her waist or hugging her or smth.

the entire family would end up in front of a bonfire dancing and talking. they'd have a fucking blast. grayson would be holding her in his arms the entire time with his head stuffed in her neck.

he'd do anything she wanted him to do like twerk or pole dance (he only lets her make a fool of himself when its her birthday). she takes advantage of this and makes him do all the crazy shit imaginable.

this one's shorter than my other posts but oh well. i have quite a few requests so some of my next ones may be shorter. anyways, hope you liked them <3.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #the grandest game #lyra kane

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ obsessed with the idea of ellie & abby being mothers

synopsis: a few headcanons of abigail and ellie being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details!!!

notes: hiii!!! i've just been thinking about these two being mothers for the past few days and this came up—sorry if it's simple or too dumb. (don't take it too seriously pls)

I'm still not sure whether they would prefer having a girl or a boy. It seems it wouldn't matter much to them, as they would raise the baby the same way regardless. However, these two are mothers of a boy!!!

They speak to their baby as though he were a responsible adult who understands everything perfectly and frown when someone uses a high-pitched voice or baby talk.

Abby is the one who always gets up in the middle of the night if the baby cries. She automatically wakes up and goes to see what's wrong with her son.

Meanwhile, Ellie doesn't wake up at night, but she reads a dinosaur book to the baby before bed, tucks him in, and gives him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.

Ellie is enthusiastic about her baby, playing energetically and carefree, tickling him, putting him on her shoulders, and playing with his hands. She's proud of her baby and believes he's the best.

Abby is not so calm, paying attention to her son's safety. She comes from a family of doctors —she's a doctor herself— and watches Ellie carefully whenever she holds the baby. Abby feels the need to keep her son close at all times, either in her strong arms or on her lap, playfully touching his nose or gently stroking his hair.

Ellie can spend hours watching Abby take a nap with their baby. She sees Abby sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, cuddled against her chest and holding her shirt tightly with his small hand, afraid of losing contact. They breathe softly, calmly together, which Ellie finds adorable — making her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

At first, Abby worried about seeing Ellie handle the baby so lightly, but she has become accustomed to Ellie's relaxed attitude. Abby watches carefully to avoid accidents, but one of her favorite things is listening to her baby and Els laugh together at something silly Ellie does, causing Abby to laugh too.

Abby "I want to name our son after a writer" Anderson versus Ellie "Let's name our son after a constellation" Williams — Els won!

Ellie helps her son learn to speak by playing her guitar, singing songs about letters, animals, and the names of family and friends.

Abby cheers and celebrates every time she sees the baby trying to stand, keeping his balance by holding onto the couch. She's proud of her little prodigy and also believes her baby is the best.

Ellie lets her son trace the lines of her tattoo and even color the spaces with markers. She accepts without complaint, extending her arm for her child to do his art.

Abby lets her son comb her hair. She loosens her blonde hair and trusts her baby's hands as he tries to comb her long hair, clumsily attempting a braid but failing.

Ellie can't help but swear in front of the baby, as she hasn't managed to change her language yet. She often ends up letting out a curse word, especially when the baby does something that excites her.

She might say something like, “Fuck yeah, you're so intelligent, kiddo!�� Or, whenever the baby cries for no reason, Ellie will get completely flustered and not know what to do, like, “What the hell do you want from me, dude? I can't help you if you don't tell me!”

On the other hand, Abby doesn't see the appeal in swearing in front of their son. So, whenever a curse word slips out of Ellie's mouth, Abby quickly exclaims; “Language, Williams!”

No matter where she is in the house, she can always hear Ellie swearing, which ends with Ellie responding with something like, “Fuck, sorry, babe. Shit, right, sorry, buddy. It just comes out like verbal vomit; I can't control it.”

Every time a rock song plays, Ellie can't help but do headbanging, and her son joins her in the fun. Both end up in the kitchen, energetically moving their heads to the music and dancing around.

For every special occasion, such as Valentine's Day, birthdays, or even Easter, Abby doesn't hesitate to buy flowers for Ellie and her son.

Both understand their child perfectly. The child might babble something unintelligible, but they simply nod, comprehending every word.

#ellabs #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #abby anderson #ellie x abby #lesbian #abby tlou #ellie williams fic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons #ellie williams headcanons #abby headcanons #abby the last of us #tlou abby #ellie and abby #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #tlou fic #the last of us fic #ellie williams the last of us #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #ellie williams fluff #idiots in love #wlw #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #abigail anderson #ellie/abby

[heaven-s-black-box]

No Second Chances- Al Haitham x Azar's daughter! wife!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 26th, 2024

Description: Hello sorry if I'm bothering you but I got an idea from this video. (https://youtu.be/ZcMI-CQcZ_c?si=Ri1SQU-0DO6PMtIV) What if the reader is the biological daughter of Azar and is currently married to Alhaitham and they have a toddler who's almost two years old and the reader wants nothing to do with Azar because of what he did though she was willing to try and keep a somewhat healthy relationship with him because at the end of the day Azar was still her father and her child's grandfather, the reader is a gentle, humble and soft-spoken woman who does try to avoid confrontation.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. This one was a little hard to write, so I'm sorry if it's not very good.

Word count: 640

Back to directory

Al Haitham is not known for his empathy. He comes off as cold, he is calculating, and he doesn’t care for other people's bullshit. Those traits serve him well, they keep him out of trouble and on time, and they make it abundantly clear what he thinks of people.

He can count on one hand the people he tolerates excess complaining and illogical arguments from.

“You don’t have to see him,” Al Haitham whispers into the quiet room, tightening his hold on his wife.

She stops squirming, finally, but he knows she’s not done. He’s proven right when she fights against his hold to turn towards him and he opens his eyes to find her staring into his. Y/n places her hands on his chest, above his heart, and takes a deep breath. He can feel the pounding of her heart.

“I want Ehsan to know his grandfather.”

“He will.”

“Beyond what the history books will say,” Y/n sighed.

Al Haitham bit back a sigh. He couldn’t say he agreed with her, Azar hadn’t even been particularly present in her youth, but he understood what she was trying to do. When Azar had come to their wedding, she’d been ecstatic. When Ehsan had been born and he’d sent flowers, she’d started planning a day to bring him by the Academia. To her, Azar’s absence had always been explained and was never malicious so she was willing to give him a chance in her life.

That illusion she’d created, that her father carried, was now teetering after the recent events with the Akasha terminal. It was always so fragile, and now she was looking for a way to break it completely.

“It’s making you anxious,” Al Haitham said instead, resting his chin on her head and rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You hardly ate today.”

“I want my father to meet his grandson at least once, and you and Cyno went through all that trouble-”

“Y/n. We don’t care.”

She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands as she drummed her fingers against his chest. Al Haitham slid his hands around her waist to hold hers and placed a gentle kiss against her ring.

“Ehsan has a wonderful family already.” He nudges her chin up. “And if you tell any of them I said that I will put salt in your coffee.”

Y/n cracked a smile, and Al Haitham put his chin back on her head while wrapping his arms back around her.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “You can decide in the morning.”

---

Y/n took a deep breath before nodding at Cyno who opened the interrogation room door and let her in. She stepped in, fiddling with her fingers, and stared at the floor as she made her way to the empty chair. Azar watched her with stern eyes, hands folded on the table.

“I hear you’re being sent to Avidya forest.”

“Yes.”

Taking another deep breath, Y/n pressed her palms flat against the table and squeezed her eyes closed before meeting Azar’s eyes.

“Good luck.”

She got up from the chair and headed back towards the door.

“Is that all?” Azar asked, frowning.

“That’s all.”

“How’s Ehsan?”

Y/n stopped with her hand raised to knock for Cyno.

“He’s good, very smart… like his father. I think it would be better if maybe you take some time to think about things and then, if you want, we’ll come visit.”

“But he’s my grandson,” Azar snapped, making Y/n tense up and dig her nails into the palm of her hand.

“You’ve never met him, and the idea of seeing you makes me so nervous that he gets worried. So, for my son’s sake, goodbye,” she breathed, the shaky exhale causing her shoulders to relax as she knocked on the door.

#researcher s's recovery #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact al haitham #alhaitham #al haitham #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #x reader #female reader #oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #rating unavailable

[spooky-pop]

Hey found your blog and your punk rock broppy au. Got to say love what I see so far and what to know more about it like. What movie does this au take place?

When rock branch and poppy meet again after all these years apart what was their impression on each other?

Was it love at first sight ? If not who fell for who first?

Is creek in this au and did poppy have a crush on him like in the canon? What’s branch thoughts about his siblings? Is branch fully loyal to the rock tribe including twt barb plan?

Does branch get jelly of creek or hickory when their around poppy like he did in canon? That’s all I got for now.

Thank you so much!! I also really appreciate the questions and am so excited to answer them since I've been working more on this AU behind the scenes. There are a lot of details and plot points I just have not figured out yet, so there's a chance some things could still be changed, cut out or just tweaked a tad. I don't mind sharing more about this AU since the comics are already in progress haha

Excuse the text wall, haha!

-This takes place around the Trolls 1 timeline, then maybe a little into Trolls 2. The Bergens are still a danger and Branch still accompanies Poppy to save the Snack Pack. Instead of him finding the will to sing again in Trolls 1, he works on facing his past and traumas with Poppy to finally find his happiness.

-When Branch left pop village he was probably around the age of 9 or 10, he and Poppy definitely had some kind of a bond as children but as years passed, they both tried to focus on their own lives by trying to move on and forget about what they lost/left behind. They re-unite in their 20s, and since this AU follows RomCom tropes, they have a similar vibe to Trolls 1 Broppy. She wants to know more about him, and he is very secretive about it all and keeps his distance. There's a lot of banter between them. Very much begins like they dislike eachother but time will fix that :)

-It was not love at first sight for them, but Branch was the one who fell first, and the hardest. He tried to keep that hidden behind his tough exterior though, because he CERTAINLY didn't want to show that he had fallen for the princess of pop, exactly what he swore he wouldn't do since he was done with pop village. Loving her meant he would definitely have to revisit his past he tried running from, which scared him. But he finds comfort in Poppy that he was not provided in many years.

-Creek is in this AU (not much), and he and Poppy are good friends who do flirt a little, she does have a crush on him. Branch absolutely hates him, and of course, becomes a jealous that someone else is fond of the Princess.

-In this AU, Brozone was still a thing and they still broke up and went different ways. They just never contacted Branch again. Branch is very fueled by his anger and resentment, because essentially, they did abandon him and still never returned when he needed his family. (His brothers COULD return in the future, but at this point in my AU, their whereabouts are unknown)

-When Branch left Pop Village, he sort of became a wanderer until he happened upon the Rock tribe. Nobody really took him in, he just made himself at home and they accepted him. He purposely kept his distance from some trolls and focused on himself. Sort of living his life on autopilot. He is still a pop troll at heart, he wouldn't have felt that Barb's plan was right either. The Rock tribe does have heavy influence on him in his personality and his appearance, but inside he is still the Branch that came from Pop.

-And again, yeah! He absolutely gets jealous still, it's a big part of his character haha.

There is so much lore and other stuff I've planned and thought out, also a lot of points I excluded because I don't want to reveal them yet. But I can't wait to make some mini comics sowing som of these scenes :)

#ask #broppy au

[kittenintheden]

Not Your Sweetheart Ch 34 - Lavender

Not Your Sweetheart Chapter 34 - Lavender

The one where I absolutely delight in reminding everyone that Astarion has a dead average 10 charisma and an 18 CHA Tav gives him a run for his goddamn money in all the best and most angsty ways.

AKA "gets away with it bc hottie w/a body" meets "wins every social interaction and is also troubled and hot."

AKA the seducer gets seduced and he's mad about it, until he isn't.

But also it's a whole campaign? You know. Do not enter unless you're expecting true-to-life D&D -- everyone hot as hell but stupid as fuck. Get your top-shelf found family and hotties battling for flirt dominance tropes here. 

---

We start off with some spicy and end on some sweet and everything in between is incredibly awkward and funny. Read on AO3.

Commissioned piece of the dorks by the fantastically talented @hamrikaa (see the full thing in Ch 10).

---

“Are you cold?” comes a voice from beside him.

He whips his head around to find the tiefling girl peering up at him. When she doesn’t look away, he glances around to see who she was talking to. “What?” he says.

Arabella points at his arm. “I rub my arms like that when I’m cold. Are you cold?”

“No,” Astarion says, forcing his arms to his side. He clears his throat and looks out over the camp until she wanders off.

She does not wander off.

“Sorry,” she says, though she doesn’t sound it. “I just thought maybe some of you were getting sick.”

“Why would you think that?” he sneers down at her, folding his arms in front of him so he doesn’t fidget.

The girl arches an eyebrow at him. “At least half of you were moaning and groaning partway through the night. I thought it was whatever you all ate. I think Karlach may have been hallucinating. She kept talking to someone who wasn’t there. If you’re not sick, then what?”

Astarion stares. The gears in his head turn, click into place, and he takes a sizable step back.

“No,” he says, putting more space between them. “I am not the one for that talk, no. I’m going to go away now. Do not follow me. Ever again.”

Arabella frowns a little at his retreating back before two of the women walk by, each carrying rations and water toward the fire. The tiefling sighs and says after them, “That’s not what you had last night, is it?”

Shadowheart stops and looks around, confused. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Don’t want to end up with a bellyache. You all were louder than Mirkon’s snoring until late.”

The half-elf goes immediately pink up to the tips of her ears. “We, erm,” she says. Swallows. “No one was sick. The food is fine.”

“Then what in the hells?” Arabella huffs. “No one tells me anything.”

Shadowheart’s mouth works as she tries to formulate a response.

Before she can get there, Lae’zel says, “I imagine you overheard us having various forms of intercourse, child.”

Very slowly, Shadowheart turns to look at her with wide eyes.

#astarion x tav #astarion x original female character #astarion x oc #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion fic #astarion fluff #bg3 #not your sweetheart

[recurring-polynya]

hello, congrats on one mil!! you mentioned (very) off handedly in the tags a long time ago that an au where renji was byakuya's sibling would be difficult because renji would want hugs and Kuchiki Do Not Hug. ever since ive been wondering: what exactly would it take for byakuya to give renji a hug? this is my prompt to you. any and all external influences are permissible but it has to be a real, proper hug. no side hugs allowed. bonus (infinite) points for rukia being somewhere in the mix.

I thought about this for 20 minutes and then just yes, and...'d my way through the rest of this. It was very fun! Hopefully someone else finds this half as funny as I did.

| read on ao3 | request guidelines |

❄️ ☃️ ❄️

"Hitsugaya here."

"Hello, Captain Hitsugaya, it is Captain Kuchiki."

"..."

"I am calling from Lieutenant Abarai's phone."

"Of course you are. What's up?"

"I have a question. What is the standard treatment for hypothermia?"

"...why are you asking?"

"When a person dives into very cold water, say, if they were chasing a semi-aquatic Hollow into a lake and the air temperature is below--"

"Kuchiki, how do you have Abarai's phone if he just jumped into a lake after a semi-aquatic Hollow?"

"Because he threw it at me and yelled 'call Rukia and ask her how to treat hypothermia, I'm sure she knows.'"

"But you didn't call Rukia."

"I did not. I would prefer if she did not find out that I let Abarai jump into a frozen lake. I did not mean to. He is very quick and also a bad listener. Hmm. The water is turning very red. Hollows do not usually have red blood. It would probably be a bad idea to jump in after him, don't you think? Then, we would both have hypothermia."

"Where are the two of you?"

"The thirty-first district of North Rukongai."

"Okay, that's too far away. (yes, it's your brother. no, everything is not fine. no, i think it's better if you let me talk to him.)"

"Is my sister there?"

"Yes, your sister is here."

"What are you doing with my sister, Hitsugaya Toushirou? She already has an official, family-approved suitor!"

"Does she, Kuchiki? Or does she have an official, family-approved popsicle? (no! no, stop grabbing! Matsumoto, some help please!)"

"Forget what I said earlier, he is coming out of the lake now. (Abarai! What is the limb situation? Ah, excellent, well done!) He even has all of his limbs. He does look rather pale and is shaking a lot, so perhaps we should get back to the hypothermia question."

"To be honest, I don't know that much about it. Usually I'm trying to freeze people to death. I only know what they teach in the decadal first aid refresher. Maybe you shouldn't have done that sleeping-with-your-eyes-open thing the last time we had--"

"Captain Hitsugaya, perhaps we could save the recriminations for later. Abarai is dying."

"Fine. I'm giving the phone to Rukia, who is here to work on her bankai, the same as every Tuesday afternoon. Kuchiki, tell your brother how to fix the hypothermia he gave your boyfriend."

"Brother!"

"Hello, Rukia! I would like to clarify, I did not 'give' Abarai hypothermia. He is very difficult to--"

"Stop talking, I know how he is. I am not holding you responsible. I only heard half the conversation, is he wet?"

"He dove into a lake, so yes."

"Okay, your first priority should be to dry him off."

"(Abarai, Rukia says you need to dry off. Yes, I know I have told you not to do that. Go ahead and do it. Just try not to get me--ugh! I told you not to--!")

"Is he trying to dry off by shaking himself like a dog? Don't let him do that!"

"It is surprisingly effective."

"It could also cause him to go into cardiac arrest so please don't let him do that!"

"(Abarai, Rukia says your heart will stop working if you do that. Yes, it sounds fake to me, too. I am just the messenger.)"

"I would hang up on you, except that then Renji would definitely die. Look, is there shelter nearby? Somewhere you can get him inside?"

"No. Can I just pick him up and flash step him back to town?"

"No, that would also cause his heart to stop. (Captain Hitsugaya, can we send a message down to-- oh, you already have? Oh, great, thank you!) Captain Hitsugaya has already called the Fourth. They're sending a medic to you, but it'll probably be at least an hour. In the meantime, you need get him dry and start to warm him up. Do you have any spare clothes?"

"Why would we have spare clothes?"

"I don't know! Sometimes people carry spare capes! They come in handy! Can you give him your haori?"

"Of course not, he hasn't passed the Captains' Examination."

"Okay, well, make him take his wet clothes off, and you figure out which parts of your outfit you can spare. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Oh, I see. Hmm. Wait, Rukia. Before I disrobe, I read a book once, where someone was in a cold climate and they were freezing to death, and they killed a bear--"

"Do not put Renji inside the dead Hollow, Byakuya. I mean it."

"Hollows disintegrate when they die, Rukia, and even if they didn't, he left it at the bottom of the lake. (You did kill it, right? All right, good.) Ahem. I was just thinking that I could find a bear--"

"You do not have time to find and kill a bear, Brother."

"Hmm. Very well. (Abarai, take off your pants. Rukia says so.)"

(various mumbling and other noises)

"All right. I have returned. Abarai is wrapped up in both our cloaks."

"Wait, you had a cloak this whole time?"

"Of course I had a cloak. We went to the mountains of North Rukongai. Of course we dressed appropriately. Abarai even had the presence of mind to remove his before jumping in the lake. (Yes, I know it was so you could swim better. Do you wish to take this phone call?)"

"You could have--you know what? Never mind. Okay, do you have any field rations with you? Getting some warm food or liquid in him would be very helpful. Even if you can just warm some water with kidou and give it to him, that would be good."

"We did not bring any provisions. We were only supposed to come out here for an afternoon and we did not expect to have to leave town. (No, Abarai, I do not think you should drink that lake water. Well, a Hollow died in it, for one thing.)"

"Brother, do me a favor. Go touch his skin and tell me what it feels like."

"His skin?"

"Yes, I want to know if it's cold."

"Does it matter where?"

"Not really, I guess."

"(Abarai, stick your arm out of the cloak. Look, this is very unpleasant for both of us!) I am touching his arm. I would say it is approximately 30C."

"How can you-- never mind. I don't want to know. Is he shivering? Are his teeth chattering?"

"Less so than before, on both counts. That is good, right? That means he is warming up?"

"No, it means his body is shutting down. Is he still talking to you? Is he lucid?"

"He is still talking, a thing that I assume he would keep doing even after all other vital signs have ceased. I will check the state of his reason. (Abarai, who was the captain of Sixth Squadron during the Hellish Dangai Incursion of 892? No, it's not a trick question. All right, it's a little bit of a trick question…That's a really questionable interpretation of events, Abarai. No, I do not think there are any historians that would agree with you.) Rukia, I will be honest. He is not at his best."

"If he's talking and making sense, that's…something at least. But he's not in good shape and you've got to do something to help him warm up until the medic gets there."

"'Sense' is really debatable, Rukia."

"I think you're going to have to do the kaidou, Brother."

"My understanding is that the body temperature stabilization kidou should only be performed in a sheltered location by a trained Squad 4 medic."

"Yeah, that's the clinical one, and you are correct. You need to do the emergency one. It's not as good generally, but it's less tricky. It should help, though! Zabimaru runs hot, so if you can just give them a jumpstart, Renji will probably stabilize by himself."

"(Oh, is that so?) Abarai says you cast this on him 'all the time.' Why didn't you bring this up earlier? And why are you freezing my lieutenant 'all the time'?"

"He likes it. And I assumed you would refuse!"

"Why would I refuse? Which kaidou is it again?"

"Did you really sleep through the decadal first aid refresher? It's number 17!"

"Number 17…that's the one where…oh."

"Can you do it, Brother?"

"..."

"Brother?"

"When you say you do this to him 'all the time', is it because you are truly giving him hypothermia constantly, or is it just a ploy to…you know?"

"..."

"Rukia?"

"Must it be one or the other, Brother?!"

"Well, I was just wondering if the full body contact was truly compulsory, or if maybe I could just…do it from a respectful distance."

"You have to hug him, Brother."

"..."

"It's not so bad, Brother! You nearly cut off an arm and a leg to save me once!"

"...what if I were to sit next to him, so that our sides were touching? I…I could probably even put my arm around him."

"A side-hug is not going to cut it! The whole trick of the thing is getting your saketsu and hakusui close enough to his! You can hug him from behind, if that makes things better."

"I think that might actually be worse, Rukia."

"You're just going to have to hug him normally, then. Renji gives very good hugs! I tell you it won't be so bad! Just do it!"

"I am only doing this for you, Rukia."

"I appreciate it, Brother."

"(All right, Abarai. Brace yourself. As unpleasant as it is, I am going to have to--no, I will not 'bring it in!' Why must you make this worse than it already is?)"

(unintelligible)

"Brother? Brother, are you still there?"

"I am still here. I am doing it. I am hugging him. This is terrible."

"Are you doing the kaidou?"

"...right. The kaidou. I am now doing the kaidou. Ahem."

"Hi, Rukia, can you hear me? He's got the phone kinda close to my face and I can hear you!"

"Renji, is that you?!"

"It's me! He's hugging me, Rukia! This is so weird!"

"We can memory wipe both of you later, probably."

"No, I mean, he's really bad at it! This is the worst hug I have ever gotten!"

"Shut up, Abarai."

"I think you need to relax a little, Captain. Loosen up those arms."

"I do not want pointers, Abarai."

"Well, I'm having--a little trouble--breathing."

"Oh. I see. Yes, sorry."

"Not to interrupt all the fun you two are having, but does it seem to be working?"

"I have no idea. Abarai, is it working?"

"It's pretty different than when you do it, Rukia, but I think it is. Can I have a real hug when I get home?"

"You can have as many hugs as you want when you get home."

"Ahem."

"I am trying to keep him thinking positive, Brother! You can also have as many hugs as you want when you get home! It sounds like you need some practice."

"..."

"Or if you'd rather just have a stiff drink, I'm sure that can also be arranged."

"As you say, Rukia: why not both?"

"Sounds good to me, Brother!"

~end

#byakuya kuchiki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #toshiro hitsugaya #1M words request event #my writing #i used to write dialogue-only fanfic all the time when i was a teen and normally i consider it very lazy and try not to do it #but in this particular case i felt like it really added to the bit #anyway big ups to the mayo clinic and webmd pages on hypothermia #couldna done it without you

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire. Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  TW: Brief mention of suicide, body image issues, eating disorder. Period typical racism. Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady **please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

AN: Another long one, ~8k words. The end had me giggling and kicking my feet. I hope you enjoy! Comments and criticism are always welcome :) Story Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast

Kate and I met this strange young bastard, Beau, and his forbidden love Penelope. Poor kids are just lookin’ for freedom but they’re stuck in some old family feud they ain’t even a part of. We delivered some letters for them, Kate insisted on it. I  gave her grief about it at first, but she was determined to go out of her way for these kids. Woman’s got a heart of gold.

Somehow, I ended up marching as a suffragette, the looks of loathing on the face of the locals amused me. I don’t know much about good causes, but I enjoyed my little experience riding alongside them. Kate showed me there’s more than one path, she chose to do the right thing and we still managed to gather some useful information. 

She makes my head dizzy sometimes, this woman. Came right out and asked to kiss me again! I choked up bad. She’s always speaking her mind, like she ain’t afraid of nothing. I love that about her. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn’t. I just can not do that to her. She’s been through too much already, and she deserves a good man. 

And I don’t deserve that kinda happiness. 

Arthur woke the next morning with a heavy weight on his chest, the remnants of a sleepless night etched into the lines of his weary face. Kate's tender words echoed in his mind like a haunting melody, refusing to fade with the dawn. No one had spoken to him with such honesty and vulnerability in ages, and Arthur couldn't shake the memory of disappointment flickering in Kate's eyes when he couldn't reciprocate her feelings. As much as his heart longed to kiss and hold her again. 

As he lay there, Arthur's thoughts drifted back to Mary, the woman he once loved. He recalled the night he proposed to her, the anticipation heavy in the air, only to be met with the sting of rejection. Mary wanted him to leave behind his life of danger, to embrace a quieter existence with her, far from the chaos of the gang. Arthur understood her desire for simplicity, but he couldn't abandon the gang; the family that needed him. He pleaded with Mary to join him, but she refused, unwilling to sever ties with her own family, especially her younger brother.

Now, years later, Arthur felt he had strayed too far down a path of darkness to ever deserve happiness again. The memory of Mary's rejection lingered as a painful reminder of his inability to change, to be the man she needed. He believed himself beyond redemption, resigned to a life devoid of the joy he once craved.

To his surprise, Kate appeared unfazed by Arthur's refusal the previous night. She greeted him in the morning with her usual warmth, as if their conversation had not left a lingering tension between them. They shared breakfast together, engaging in easy conversation that helped ease some of the weight on Arthur's shoulders. Kate mentioned that she had already discussed their findings with Hosea, who wanted to meet with Arthur later that evening regarding a potential job at the Braithwaite estate.

Her calm demeanor brought Arthur a sense of comfort amid his inner turmoil. As they finished their meal, Kate gracefully excused herself to resume her tasks with the other girls. She promised to join him for dinner as usual, maintaining their routine without skipping a beat. Arthur watched her go about her duties with a mixture of admiration and gratitude. Despite his fears of pushing her away, Kate seemed to understand. And didn’t think ill of him for it. 

As the day unfolded, Arthur found himself immersed in a job orchestrated by Uncle—an opportunity to stage a simple yet lucrative payroll robbery. He teamed up with Charles and together they executed the heist with precision. The stagecoach robbery went off without a hitch, yielding a substantial sum that brought a brief sense of satisfaction to Arthur, feeling like a proper thief he was raised to be.

As the sun began its descent, Arthur sought out Hosea near the hidden stash of stolen moonshine. He detailed his failed attempt to sell back the stolen moonshine to the Braithwaites. Hosea recounted how they had approached the Braithwaite matriarch with an offer, only to be met with a cold rejection. The old woman haughtily declared that they deserved no reward for returning what she considered rightfully hers. Instead, in a spiteful act of retribution, she offered a meager ten dollars to distribute the moonshine for free at Mr. Gray's saloon.

Arthur was puzzled by the Braithwaite's response. Hosea clarified that it was a calculated move—a means of exacting revenge on the Grays and the town drunks. By turning the intoxicated patrons into even greater fools for the night, the Braithwaites hoped to incite chaos and leave Sheriff Gray to deal with the ensuing fallout.

Amidst the chaos of the moonshine-fueled night at Mr. Gray's saloon, Arthur assumed his familiar role as "Fenton," a persona he had adopted in previous schemes alongside Hosea. The act required him to play the part of Hosea’s younger idiot brother, who also happened to be mute. His only job was keeping glasses filled without uttering a single word. Though Arthur despised the charade, he couldn't suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of their antics—the lengths they would go to for a successful heist.

Draped in the guise of Fenton, Arthur navigated the rowdy patrons, handing out moonshine liberally as the atmosphere inside the saloon grew increasingly raucous. The scene was a stark reminder of earlier days, when he and Hosea were younger and life seemed simpler, despite the risks they took.

As the night wore on, the situation escalated when Sheriff Gray himself appeared, prompting Hosea and Arthur to spring into action. Shots rang out, echoing through the old saloon as lawmen pursued them. With practiced ease, they slipped through the back door, disappearing into the shadows and swiftly making their way to the waiting wagon. In the chaos that ensued, Arthur expertly handled their pursuers while Hosea skillfully guided the reins.

A small shootout erupted as the Grays chased them through the winding back roads and fields leading out of Rhodes. Arthur remained focused, taking down their adversaries while Hosea expertly navigated the terrain. The tension was palpable, the thrill of the night's escapade mingling with the danger of their flight.

Approaching the train tracks, Arthur spotted a train. With precise timing, they crossed just as the locomotive barreled through, cutting off their pursuers. The lawmen were left stranded on the other side, unable to follow.

Once they were safely beyond reach, away from the danger that had pursued them, laughter erupted between Arthur and Hosea. It was a release of pent-up tension, the adrenaline-fueled joy of a successful escape mingling with the shared camaraderie of outlaws.

“Remind me to never take up a career in…what was it? Bartending,” Arthur chuckled, glancing back at the remaining clinking bottles they were unable to distribute.

“I didn’t know they’d throw so much of a fuss over booze, this town is odd,” Hosea answered, shaking his head as he cracked the reins of the wagon.

Arthur furrowed his brow, considering the surplus moonshine. “What should we do with all the shine we still have left?”

Hosea’s expression turned grim. “That miserable Braithewaite woman wants us to burn the Grays' tobacco fields with it, I was hoping you and Sean could handle that tomorrow night.” 

“Damn, ain’t that makin’ a bit too much noise? I thought we were tryin’ to lay low in all this. These fellas may be drunks and racists, but they ain’t afraid to kill, you saw them back there,” Arthur expressed his concern.

Hosea sighed, revealing a hint of hesitation. “Dutch thinks there's money in this somewhere. His plan is to get them all riled up on each other and use that as an opportunity to slip in and rob ‘em.”

Arthur fell silent, contemplating the dangerous path they were treading by getting involved in a longstanding blood feud. “Things could get real ugly, Hosea. Do you really think one of these families is sitting on a pile of money?”

“Can’t say. But the cash box is getting full again, Arthur. We’ve been doing well on making money. With just a bit more cash, we’ll be out of here,” Hosea replied, injecting a note of hope into the conversation. Sensing Arthur's unease, he changed the subject. “Kate told me about your adventures yesterday. How are things going between you two?”

As their wagon rattled down the road, illuminated by the soft glow of the full moon, Arthur felt a sense of comfort settle over him. He glanced over at Hosea, his trusted father figure, and knew that he could confide in him about anything. The old man had a way of understanding Arthur's thoughts and feelings without needing them spelled out.

Arthur shifted uneasily in his seat, rubbing his palms together nervously, the words weighing heavily on his mind. It wouldn't escape Hosea's notice that Arthur was quite sweet on Kate. After all, it had been Hosea's idea to pair them up for the day, hoping to give Arthur a chance to spend time with her away from the group.

“I kissed her the other night, when she was singin’ a lullaby for Jack,” Arthur began, the words spilling out into the night air like a secret long kept.“She… she wanted to kiss me again today and, I really wanted to, but I had to let her down easy,”  He glanced over at Hosea, seeking some semblance of understanding in the old man's eyes.

Hosea raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You kissed her and ditched her? I thought I raised you better, son,” he teased, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

Arthur chuckled, though there was a tinge of self-deprecation in his amusement. “I know, I’m dumber than a bag of rocks.”

Hosea patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly, his touch grounding. “You may be good at playing an idiot like Fenton,” he remarked, referencing their recent job, “but you’re a smart boy. What harm could come if you just let it happen and see where it takes you?”

With a heavy sigh, Arthur leaned back in the seat, his gaze drifting up to the blinking stars above, memories of Kate’s confession flooding his thoughts. “I just don’t wanna hurt her. And… I don’t wanna feel that kinda hurt again.”

Nodding in understanding, Hosea's expression softened with a paternal concern for the young cowboy. “I’m not gonna live forever, son. I’d just like to see you be happy with someone before I go.”

“I was happy once. I had a woman who loved me, and she left me because I couldn’t change for her.” Arthur admitted, his voice giving away the deep sorrow he still harbored about his young love. 

“Mary was a good woman, I did like her. You were both so young and naive, still navigating your own lives,” Hosea mused, his voice carrying the weight of hindsight. His gaze softened with memories. “But I don’t think she was the right one for you. She couldn’t tame that wild heart of yours.”

Arthur listened, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the wagon jostling over uneven terrain. “Sometimes, I feel like I can’t even tame it myself,” he confessed, his tone tinged with resignation.

Hosea's eyes twinkled with a knowing glint. “That's why you need someone strong enough to stand in the ring with you,” he remarked, his voice brimming with wisdom, “and face down the beast with a heart just as wild.”

Arthur nodded slowly, the words sinking in like stones dropped into a still pond. He mulled over Hosea's advice, feeling the weight of his own heart's desires. The night enveloped them in a cocoon of shared understanding, the stars above bearing witness to their quiet contemplation.

Arthur’s confession hung heavy in the air, his words weighed down by the burden of his past. “Once she knows what I’ve done, I don’t think she can forgive me for it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, like a man confessing his sins.

Hosea let out a light scoff, his eyes bright with a hint of amusement. “Son, your bounty has been posted in almost every town in the west,” he remarked wryly. “She knows we’re outlaws, I think she’s probably aware you’ve killed some folk.”

Shaking his head slowly, Arthur gathered his thoughts, his gaze fixed on the horizon ahead. “No, no it ain’t that,” he muttered, his words heavy with hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Kate told me ‘bout her family, how they all passed from accidents or disease. She even had to bury her own daughter. I just…” His voice trailed off, grappling with the weight of his own truth. “I just don’t know how to tell her about my own. About my son, Isaac. Or Eliza.”

Hosea leaned back against the wagon’s seat, his expression thoughtful. “What’s stopping you from telling her? That’s something you two have in common,” he pointed out gently.

“Because I–I can’t tell her I’m the reason they’re dead,” Arthur confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “Family means so much to her, she’d never forgive me for throwing it away.”

The old man regarded Arthur with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. “Son, if you’re so worried about her turning the other cheek on you, I think you need to tell her the truth,” Hosea advised, his tone earnest. “She’s going to find out eventually, and you know she’s a smart woman. She understands what you are and still chooses to be by your side. And I’d be surprised if she draws the line at something that happened in the past. You're too hard on yourself, Arthur. What happened to Eliza and Isaac was terrible, but it was not your fault.”

Arthur rarely spoke about his son, Isaac, even with Hosea, his closest confidant. The weight of their deaths bore heavily on his heart, like an anchor dragging him into the depths of guilt and regret. Isaac's passing had transformed Arthur into a different man, one hardened by grief and the burden of responsibility.

Hosea had witnessed the change in Arthur firsthand. Before the tragedy that befell Eliza and Isaac, Arthur was more carefree, with a spark of youthful innocence in his eyes. But as time wore on, a darkness crept into his demeanor, a shadow that never quite lifted. He carried their deaths like a scar, a permanent mark etched upon his soul.

In moments of vulnerability, Arthur would let slip glimpses of his sorrow, revealing the cracks in his stoic facade. He blamed himself for their deaths, convinced that if he had been a better man, a different man, things might have turned out differently. It was a burden he carried alone, tucked away behind layers of bravado and hardened resolve.

Hosea understood the depth of Arthur's pain, but he also recognized the resilience that lay beneath. Arthur's reluctance to share his grief spoke volumes about the depth of his sorrow. It was a wound that time could not heal, a wound that had shaped the man Arthur had become.

As the wagon turned down the familiar winding road that led to their camp, the night's chorus surrounded them with the faint hum of a crackling fire and the warm glow as it cast dancing shadows across the clearing.

Arthur broke the moment of silence, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I should’ve been there for them, Pa," he confessed, his eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the trees passing by.

Hosea sighed, the years etched into the lines of his face. "Yes, son, but life has a way of throwing us off course, even when we try our best," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of wisdom earned through hardship. "This world can be cruel, as you well know."

"I can’t be a bad man and expect good things like Kate to happen to me. It just don’t work that way," Arthur continued, his words laced with self-doubt.

Hosea placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder, his touch a welcome comfort. "Kate sees something good in you, son," his tone was gentle yet firm. "Maybe it's time you started seeing it too."

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate scrubbed diligently, the soap creating frothy suds as she ran the bar along the stretched cotton over the washboard. She sat on a small stool in the shade beneath a sprawling tree, her trousers dotted with darkened spots from the splashing water. The air was heavy with heat, but the coolness of the water in the small washtub offered a brief respite. With each steady motion, her fingers became slightly more pruned from the repeated immersion.

Beside her, Mary-Beth was busy ringing out the soapy cloth and dipping it into a clean bucket, the rhythmic process mirroring Kate's own. The girls found solace in their shared task, engaged in easy conversation to while away the chore.

“So,” Kate began, a mischievous glint in her eye, “I saw you talking to Kieran the other day. Want to spill the beans on what’s really going on there?” She nudged Mary-Beth playfully with her knee.

The young girl looked down, a faint blush tinting her cheeks as she tried to hide her face from Kate's teasing gaze. “He was just curious about the book I was reading, that’s all,” she admitted bashfully, her voice carrying a hint of embarrassment.

Kate knew Mary-Beth's romantic tendencies well. From the moment they met, it was clear that she had a penchant for love affairs and romantic tales—her nose buried in romance novels and dreams of penning her own someday.

“That’s all?” Kate teased, a playful glint in her eye. “I see you watching him groom those horses every day. Somebody's got eyes for the O’Driscoll boy,” she added, splashing a bit of water in jest.

Mary-Beth retaliated with a laugh, “He ain’t an O’Driscoll!” Her grin gave away any attempt at concealing her feelings. She glanced over towards the horses, and Kate followed her gaze to where Kieran Duffy was tending to the animals. “He’s been talkin’ to me a lot recently. I just think he’s sweet.”

Kate's eyes lingered on the scene, noticing Lenny and Javier saddling their horses nearby, while John caught her gaze as he approached them.

Just as Kate was about to respond, John called out to her, “Kate! You busy right now?”

She looked up, eyes squinting as the sun glowed behind his frame. She gestured with open palms towards the wash bin. “You need somethin’?” she asked.

John tipped his hat to Mary-Beth, who waved politely in return. “We’re heading out to the Braithwaite manor to check out some horses. Thought you might wanna come,” he explained, nodding back to where Lenny and Javier were waiting.

Kate chuckled, her tone lighthearted. “You plan on stealing them or something?”

John crossed his arms casually, “well, you know,” he trailed, “if the opportunity presents itself.” Not bothering to hide their dubious intentions. Kate has to remind herself sometimes that she is running with outlaws. For them, a job doesn't mean checking out the goods, it means stealing goods. 

He cleared his throat and explained the situation seriously, “some fella from the Gray family told us he’d pay to have their horses stolen. Also mentioned they go for $1000 a piece.”

Kate raised a brow of suspicion, “and you believe him?” 

John only shrugged, “it's worth looking into.”

She waved him off with a touch of concern, “I don’t want no trouble John, I’m sure you boys will manage fine without me.” 

John persisted, his voice reassuring. “It won’t be no trouble at all. We’ll be in and out, they won’t even know we’re there,” he said, adding an enticing detail, “word is they got some pretty nice gypsy horses. Real purebreds too.”

Kate found herself caught in the web of temptation. Stealing horses was not something she relished, but the promise of seeing such a purebred up close was alluring. If they pulled it off successfully, she knew the money would help the gang alot. She figured it wouldn't be so bad to help them in one little heist. 

As if Mary-Beth could sense her conflicting ideas, she interrupted the silence, "I can finish up here, Kate. You should go. They'll have a better chance of pulling it off with you." She winked knowingly, seeming to support Kate's unspoken decision.

She made up her mind, fixing John with a pointed look. "No trouble," she repeated firmly, more as a command than a question.

"No trouble," John assured her with a nod of understanding.

Kate wiped her damp arms across her shirt, bidding Mary-Beth farewell and promising to catch up with her later. As she approached her midnight mare, the horse whinnied in recognition, sensing the upcoming adventure. Javier and Lenny greeted her from their saddles, both looking ready for action.

Javier tipped his hat with a charming smile. "Nice of you to join us, cariño," he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Kate swiftly mounted her horse, adjusting herself in the saddle. "You boys better hope this goes smoothly," she remarked with a playful smirk, her eyes scanning the group with a hint of caution.

Lenny rode his stallion closer to Kate's, "I gotta say, having you with us doubles our luck, don't you think?" he replied, his tone light-hearted but with an underlying sense of confidence.

She smiled fondly. Together the four of them took off down the lush green path and onto the dirt road. Kate was glad for the invitation, it made her feel good that the gang trusted her enough to include her in such tasks, that they were confident in her ability to work alongside them. She felt a new sense of trust among them, and camaraderie. She felt like she was becoming a real member, and not just some lone traveler like she had been nearly a month ago. 

The journey to the Braithwaite manor was uneventful, the cool breeze of the afternoon air was refreshing against their skin as they rode. As they arrived at the manor from the south side, away from the prying gaze of the property guards. The grand estate loomed before them, a testament to the family's wealth and power. They dismounted their horses in a secluded spot, ensuring they wouldn't draw too much attention.

Kate's mind wandered briefly, wondering if Penelope would be out in her gazebo enjoying the afternoon sun. 

John's voice interrupted her thoughts, his tone matter-of-fact as he laid out the plan. "Let's keep this nice and easy. No need to rush. We're here on behalf of a buyer, looking to make a significant investment," he explained as they followed him toward the barn.

Outside the stable doors, a worker paused in his tasks, eyeing them with suspicion. "Can I help you fellas?" he asked, his tone wary.

"I hope so," John replied amiably, trying to appear non-threatening. "Heard you got some horses?"

"We always got horses," the man responded gruffly.

"Fine horses, I mean," John clarified.

The worker's expression soured, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the group. "I don't know whatchu’ talkin' 'bout, friend. Why don't you take that hoyden wench, yer greaser buddy, and his darkie friend and get off the property ‘fore I blow your face off," he retorted, spitting at their feet.

Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise at the man's unabashed racism and arrogance toward strangers. Suddenly understanding Tilly’s hesitation about being so far south. Javier quickly raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Whoa, take it easy there, amigo," he interjected, trying to diffuse the tension.

John remained unfazed by the man's hostility. "Come on now, partner. We're just looking to do some business. Inquire about a purchase," he persisted.

The worker let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, follow me, Scarface," he grumbled, the insults never ceasing.

The ranch hand, ever welcoming, led them into the barn, his voice a steady stream of information about the horses—names, breeds, and abilities. She noticed they were not the purebreds John had heard rumors about. Still beautiful, strong horses nonetheless. 

Kate observed John and Javier exchanging a look as they walked deeper into the dimly lit space. When the man paused to pet a horse, John subtly motioned to Javier, who deftly moved behind the unsuspecting worker. 

Meanwhile, Lenny smoothly interjected with feigned interest. "Wow, look at the balls on that one," he chuckled, pointing in another direction. The ranch hand followed his gaze, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him.

With his back turned, Javier seized the opportunity, drawing his pistol from his belt. "Greaser, huh?" he muttered bitterly before striking the bottom of the iron against the man's head, knocking him out instantly. John and Javier wasted no time, swiftly moving the unconscious body to a hidden spot while Lenny began unlocking the stable gates.

Kate stood in stunned silence for a moment, her voice barely audible as she tried to suppress her surprise. "What happened to nice and easy?" she muttered.

Her comment elicited a chuckle from Lenny, who had already mounted one of the horses. "Can't get any easier than this. Let’s try to get 'em out of here without drawing too much attention," he replied casually.

Despite her swirling thoughts and unease, Kate pushed her concerns aside and mounted one of the horses. Following the three bandits out of the barn, she joined them as they sped off through the sprawling property, the rush of adrenaline mixing with a sense of trepidation.

The thundering hooves of their stolen horses echoed through the property. Behind them, shouts and the pounding of boots indicated that their presence had been discovered. Several ranch hands emerged from the buildings, brandishing rifles and shouting warnings.

John, Kate, Javier, and Lenny spurred their horses into a full gallop, kicking up dust and dirt as they raced across the open fields. The pursuing ranch hands fired off a few rounds in their direction, but the distance and the speed of their mounts made accurate shooting difficult.

As they reached the fence at the edge of the property, they leapt over the barrier. The group plunged into a dense thicket of trees, the branches clawing at their faces and clothes. The sounds of pursuit faded behind them as the guards were forced to slow down and eventually give up the chase. They whistled loudly, and soon their own horses caught up and began to follow in tow. 

Javier led the way as they made their way through the landscape to find the supposed buyers at Clemens Cove. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The encounter with the buyers proved to be an intriguing yet unsettling experience. They were met by a pair of brothers who seemed to operate in uncanny harmony, sometimes speaking in unison and shrouding their business with secrecy. Details about their clientele and operations were kept hidden, with only a vague promise that one of them would be available for future dealings, if they wished to become business partners.

During the negotiation, one of the brothers made a direct offer to purchase Kate’s prized black Hungarian outright, offering her a substantial sum. However, Kate politely declined without hesitation. Her bond with the mare ran deep, and no amount of money could sway her decision to part with her cherished companion.

The brothers’ offer of 50 cents on the dollar for the stolen horses was not quite what John had anticipated, but it still amounted to a respectable deal given the circumstances.

After concluding their business at Clemens Cove, the posse set off back towards the rolling plains. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm and serene glow over the lush green hills. Their horses trotted steadily along the trail as the  landscape unfolded around them, painted in hues of amber and gold, as they made their way back to camp.

"Hoyden wench…" Kate echoed with a chuckle, mimicking the ranch hand's harsh drawl. "I've been called a lot of things, but that sure is a first."

Javier, riding alongside her, piped up from the saddle, his expression puzzled. "What the hell does that mean, anyway?"

Lenny let out an exasperated sigh. " 'Wench' was a term used by slavers for black women. And 'hoyden' means she's too much of a 'tomboy’,'' he explained.

"Well, I can understand the 'tomboy' part, but she's not even—"

"Doesn't matter, amigo," John interjected, his tone matter-of-fact. "If ya skin ain't as white as a baby's bottom, it's all the same to them."

Kate nodded in agreement, her thoughts drifting back to the locals she had observed while running letters with Arthur. Witnessing their prejudice up close and personal was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by Lenny and Tilly in this region. As a woman of Italian descent, her skin carried a honey-brown hue, bronzed by the Lemoyne sun. Even this slight difference posed a threat to the narrow-minded locals, a reality that churned her stomach with discomfort.

"I'm ‘bout ready to get the hell out of dodge," Lenny added, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Speakin’ of racist hillbillies, Javier and I are heading out to Shady Belle. Got a tip there's some raiders sittin’ on guns and ammo. You guys want in?" He turned to John and Kate with a casual invitation.

Kate shook her head, "thanks Lenny, but I think I'll pass this time."

John chimed in with a polite refusal. "As much as I love killing racists, I gotta get back to Abigail for dinner."

Javier and Lenny exchanged nods of understanding. "No worries, compadres," Javier replied. "We'll catch up with you later."

As they bid farewell, Kate and John veered onto the familiar dirt path that led back to Clemens Point. 

The gentle melody of song birds and the steady pounding of hooves on the dry soil filled the atmosphere. Before they could approach the camp, John's voice broke the peaceful ambiance. 

"Hey, I know I sound stupid for saying this, but thank you for being a friend to Abigail. All of this has been really hard on her," he explained, his tone earnest and reflective. He glanced ahead, his thoughts drifting to his woman back at camp. "I know it may not look like it, but I'm trying—I'm working on being the kind of father she wants me to be and the husband she needs."

Kate gave him a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. “You don't sound stupid, John. This life ain’t easy for nobody, especially when there's a child in the mix.” She was slightly surprised to hear him open up to her. 

John sighed, his expression heavy with regret. “Still, I know you and I ain’t all that close, but, I did somethin’ pretty bad. I worry she might never forgive me for it.”

With a sideways glance, Kate nodded reluctantly. “Yeahhh, Abigail already told me ‘bout all that.”

“Shit, she did?” John's eyes widened in surprise.

She couldn't help but chuckle, a hint of mischief in her voice. “Oh yeah, she’s told me everything John.” Abigail didn't babble to Kate just for the sake of gossip; she understood that Abigail needed someone to confide in, someone to listen and truly hear her. She needed to feel seen, heard, and understood. Especially in times like these. 

“Well goddamn, now I feel like a proper dumbass.”

“She still loves you, John, and your boy does too. But love doesn’t come for free—it takes a lot of effort. Keep pushin’ to be a better man, she sees your effort. I promise you.” Kate's words were gentle yet firm,

"Thanks, Kate. Say, you’ve been ridin’ with us for a while now. You think you’re stickin’ ‘round for the long haul?” John asked, his tone curious.

Kate shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “I can’t say for certain. But for now, that’s the plan. Never thought I’d be workin’ with outlaws, but I guess it’s sometimes kinda fun,” she replied, hinting at their recent endeavor. Though petty horse theft was one thing, running from the law for murder was another.

“I noticed you and Arthur get along pretty well. He the reason you're stayin’ put?” John probed further. No doubt trying to get a grasp on his brother's affairs.

“Arthur’s a bit of a mystery to me. But we’re just friends, is all,” Kate answered, her tone casual yet guarded. She knew things between her and Arthur were only just beginning, but it was still undoubtedly complicated. The fact that some of the members had taken notice of their relationship sparked a tinge of worry. 

“You’re a tough woman to read sometimes,” he smirked, the scar on his cheek crinkled slightly. “Well, whatever the case. Take care of yourself, ya hear?” He expressed a genuine smile as he rode ahead back into camp. 

Kate followed behind, the aroma of Pearson’s signature stew filling her lungs with its savory fragrance. She left Lorena to graze peacefully among her own four-legged companions and headed toward the chuck wagon, eager to enjoy a well-earned meal after a day filled with adventure. The camp was alive with the usual sounds—crackling fire, distant chatter, and the occasional whinny of horses—creating a familiar and comforting backdrop to the evening.

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As Arthur returned to camp under the blanket of stars, the world seemed silent except for the faint rustle of night creatures and the distant crackle of a dying fire. He dismounted his mare with practiced quiet, the shadows of night his ally in avoiding unwanted company.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, his frustration palpable in the tight set of his jaw and the weariness etched in his movements. Tonight, he had no patience for idle chatter or bullshit from the guys. Especially the ones awake at this hour.

Burning the tobacco fields with Sean had proven to be no easy task. Though never any job orchestrated by Dutch ever was. It was nights like these where Arthur questioned when all the shooting and robbing would end. What the point of it all was. 

Behind his tent, the open end of the wagon served as a makeshift wall. Arthur rummaged through crates, finding what he needed—a needle, thread, alcohol, and cloth. Wincing as he prodded the bullet graze just under his armpit.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit” he mumbled to himself.

Getting shot had never been part of Arthur's plan on any job. He prided himself on his quick draw and accuracy, always aiming to fire first and hit his mark before danger could strike him. But shooting under cover of night, navigating through a blazing tobacco field while avoiding being burned alive—such challenges could make even the finest gunslinger stumble.

The guards had descended upon them as soon as the smoke rose, but Sean had urged them to press on, insisting they keep pouring the moonshine without hesitation. Arthur couldn't help but worry that the young Irishman's ambition might one day lead him into an early grave.

Surprisingly, the only injury Arthur had sustained was a bullet graze, still needing a few stitches but nothing life-threatening. Meanwhile, Sean had returned unscathed, already regaling their escapade around the campfire with a bottle in hand.

Under the cool night air, Arthur peeled off his sweat-dampened shirt, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body. The lantern's dim glow cast shadows, highlighting the glistening of sweat on his chest and stomach.

He dipped the cloth into the alcohol, its sharp scent biting into his senses. As he attempted to clean the wound tucked under his arm, frustration crept in. The injury was beyond his line of sight, a challenge exacerbated by his own size.

Placing one arm against the side of the wagon for support, Arthur tried again, unaware of Kate's quiet approach behind him amidst the backdrop of the night's stillness.

“Need some help there, big guy?” Kate's voice was endearing, soft, almost motherly. The tone made Arthur's knees weak and his face grow warm.

Startled, Arthur nearly leapt out of his skin, quickly lowering his arm and stepping back, almost out of the lamplight. The nickname, though used innocently, stirred something akin to shame in his belly.

"What're you doin' up?" Arthur asked, attempting to appear unbothered.

Kate shrugged, her demeanor relaxed. "Couldn’t sleep. I was brushing Lorena when I saw you come in. Figured I’d say hi," she explained. "You want some help with that?" She gestured to where small trickles of blood traced down his side, her eyes lingering slowly over his bare torso.

If it weren’t for the cover of night, Kate would have seen the deep blush that crept up to his ears. "I think I’ll be alright," Arthur managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

Kate took a step closer, her gaze shifting to his shirt hanging from the side of the wagon, a round, deep red stain contrasting against its usual pale blue.

"Well, it sure don't look alright," she noted, her eyes returning to his side. "Tough spot to reach too."

Arthur's breath quickened. "I’m fine, don’t worry 'bout me," he replied, a hint of nervousness creeping into his tone.

Kate only brushed him off with a playful wave of her arm, “oh quit it! You stitched me up before, let me return the favor.” Before Arthur could react she placed a gentle hand on his bicep, “here, turn around.” She said quietly.

He complied, turning his back to her. His body froze when her fingers returned with the wet alcohol cloth. Barely noticing the sting, as her hands alone felt like fire against his cold skin. Her warmth is intoxicating. 

A moment's silence embraced them, and Arthur prayed she couldn’t hear the beat of his heart as it raced in his chest.

Her words startled him from his thoughts, “see, ain’t so bad,” her tone soft like she was comforting a child. “Why’d ya hesitate?” A hint of curiosity and concern filled her voice from behind him.  

Arthur lowered his head slightly, “I um, well I know I ain’t much to look at.” He mumbled. 

Kate continued to clean his wound tenderly, “what do you mean by that?” 

He let out a deep sigh, there was no point in being dishonest with her, “I…I just don’t like folk seein’ me without a shirt. I ain’t what I used to be. I’m gettin’ old, gettin’ heavy too.” His hand subconsciously rubbed over his belly. 

Arthur's weight was his biggest insecurity, a constant reminder of his struggles and the pain he carried. Years had passed since Eliza and Isaac's deaths, but part of him had withered away back then. The guilt had gnawed at him, devouring his spirit day by day. He sought solace in alcohol, drowning himself in the numbness it offered. His relationship with food became a twisted dance of indulgence and deprivation.

Some days, he ate to fill the emptiness inside, seeking comfort in the fleeting sensation of fullness. Other days, food seemed an enemy, a symbol of his lack of control. He despised his belly, the way it was soft and curved, a stark contrast to the man he once knew in the mirror. His size served as a relentless reminder of his deepest failure, haunting him with each glance.

Each morning he woke, Arthur grappled with the weight of existence. The world, in its merciless ways, kept him breathing, a living monument to his own remorse. He often wondered if the world would be better off without him, a sentiment that lingered like a dark cloud over his soul.

Kate sensed Arthur's tension, the silent turmoil that echoed beneath the pads of her fingers as she tended to his wound. She felt the subtle movement of his muscles, synchronized with the rise and fall of his breath. "You're a strong man, Arthur. Age and scars don't make you any less handsome," she reassured him with genuine honesty, her voice a soothing balm.

With practiced ease, Kate finished cleaning his wound and reached for the needle and thread. She gently maneuvered his arm to rest on the side of the wagon, adjusting her position for a better angle to begin stitching. Arthur's nerves betrayed him, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side as he tried to compose himself. His head felt dizzy, as if he had been holding his breath all this time.

"I reckon you're just sayin' that to be kind," Arthur finally admitted, his self-doubt palpable in the air.

Kate chuckled softly, the sound carrying warmth and sincerity. "I've met my fair share of ugly bastards in my lifetime, but believe me, you are certainly not one of them," she assured him, her voice like a gentle flame against his skin. Her words were a rare gift, stirring something deep within him that he had long kept hidden. Arthur closed his eyes briefly, letting her words sink in.

"You're a very handsome cowboy, wrinkles, scars, size and all. I think you're a lovely man," Kate affirmed, her words carrying a sincerity that tugged at Arthur's heart. "Besides, I know I'm not the picturesque woman myself. I'm no stranger to the cruel effects of time and livin' rough. Today, I was even called a ‘hoyden wench’ by some bona fide racist ranch hand," she added with a light laugh, as if brushing off the insult.

Kate had a way of making Arthur feel like they had known each other for a lifetime. Since the day she opened up to him about her life, she had been unapologetically honest with him. It was as if she already knew she could trust him with her personal tragedies.

Hosea's words echoed in Arthur's mind, a comforting reminder of the wisdom his old father figure imparted. Hosea simply wanted happiness for him—not wealth in money, but richness in love. He wanted Arthur to find purpose and meaning in life, to share that journey with another soul.

As Kate's needle deftly worked the thread through his skin, Arthur felt a warmth bloom in his chest. Kate's words eased a heavy burden, if only momentarily. 

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, summoning the courage to speak. “Well, I’ll say this. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lady who can hold her own,” he began, his voice laced with sincerity. “You’ve got a strength and beauty that’s hard to come by. I think it’s pretty admirable.”

Kate giggled softly, the sound sending a warm flutter through Arthur’s chest. “Thanks, Arthur. First time I’ve heard that in a while,” she replied, her eyes meeting his.

Arthur marveled at how he had summoned the courage to kiss her the other night, feeling as if he could barely face her now. Yet, if she leaned in to kiss him at this moment, he knew he would succumb to his desire, despite what he had told her before. She lit a fire in him.

“S’true. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole damn holler,” Arthur said, unable to hide the light chortle that escaped him.

Kate leaned closer, her breath tickling his neck as she whispered, “You have quite a sweet side, Arthur. I adore that about you,” her hand lightly squeezing his arm.

His heart swelled, and Arthur knew this was the moment. He needed to tell her, despite the nerves that threatened to overpower him. Hosea may have been right; she had stayed by his side despite everything. But as he searched for the words, unsure of how to broach the subject, his nerves got the better of him once again. There was never an easy way to say it. Just the memories of them alone felt like acid in his throat. 

Kate took a step back, placing her tools down on the back of the wagon. “I reckon I’m about done stitching this. Try to stay out of the crossfire next time, yeah?” She teased, holding up his bloody shirt with a knowing look as she handed it back to him.

Arthur felt a pang of regret. “Wasn’t my intention to get shot,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. He slipped the shirt over his shoulders, tugging the sleeves down his arms.

“Nobody intends to get shot,” Kate mused, taking a step back to give him space.

Turning to face her, Arthur was struck by the sight of her eyes, a sadness that mirrored his own that evening under the moonlit sky when they kissed. His heart throbbed at the sight. Since the day he met her at Emerald Ranch, she had a welcoming presence that drew him in, along with a deep sorrow that resonated with his own. It was as if she knew him before she even met him.

He looked down, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I appreciate your help, darlin’,” he murmured. Then, letting out a deep breath, he added, “though, I really don’t deserve it.”

Kate brushed off his self-doubt. “Don’t fuss over it, Arthur. I’m here whenever you need a hand,” she assured him. “I think you should get some rest though; from Sean’s stories, it sounds like it’s been a long day.”

Arthur nodded silently, watching as Kate bid him farewell and faded back into the night. His heart silently begged, please don’t go. But she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts under the blanket of stars.

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Kate lay beneath the star-studded sky, her eyes fixed on the milky purple and white swirl above, like celestial clouds in motion. Her heart echoed the rhythm of hooves against her ribs. Thoughts of Arthur filled her mind, his presence vivid in her thoughts.

The image of his body lingered before her, along with the stories he shared about himself. A longing surged within her to reveal how beautiful she found him, to explore him with kisses and her wandering hands.

Patience wavered as a persistent ache in her belly reminded her of the closeness she craved. Intimate moments with Arthur kindled her core, igniting a blaze of desire. Each quiet, vulnerable encounter with him deepened their connection. Funny how his true colors always showed when he was alone with her. 

Kate smiled to herself, feeling a rush of desire she hadn't known for what felt like a century. As good as she was on her own. She felt like life had finally granted her an anecdote to her lonely heart. 

---

AN: Phew, its out there. I know that was pretty dialogue heavy, so I hope I didn't bore you guys. Next chapter is going to be a long one, and may take me awhile. But it will be worth it, I promise!

As always, thanks for all the love!

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