Tumgik
#momma! jane
cowardlykrow · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Stop light shenanigans
Extra:
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
steveharirngton · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
These pictures are so adorable I can't 🥺🥺🥺
.
.
.
.
(Non of the pics are mine, I found them on Pinterest © to the owners)
50 notes · View notes
aphr0d1teh · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
no thoughts, just steve n his six adopted kids
223 notes · View notes
mrsparrasblog · 9 days
Text
Randome TF141 headcanons
Some of them are weird. But I just know.
Tumblr media
Price:
Never go to the toilet after him
has a hut in the forest for fishing but mostly ends up fucking a local in there
because this man is a whore
he is still the most loyal when he is in a relationship
his favorite food is Shepard's pie or red jelly but not the green one and no one understands why
has so hard Daddy issues that he fathers everyone
uses AXE dark temptation to get rid of the cigar smell in his house
smells like Tom Ford tobacco vanilla
his love language is gift - giving and acts of service
NSFW:
he is a munch everyone knows it but still he is the biggest munch
Breeding kink
He is a whore but just because he thinks he doesn't deserve more than a one nighstands , please give this man a soft wife to dot on - preferably me
he hates Anal sex but riming is okay in his cards
says he is straight but bottomed Simon and Johnny on many occasions and likes to get blowies from or favorite pretty boy :)
prefers hair down there
Tumblr media
Ghost:
He only Shops at Lidl you will never see him at Tesco or Sainsbury, even with all the coupons and tricks Lidl is cheaper. You will never see him somewhere else.
He hates London with all his heart, if there were a hate page for London he would be the admin. Dirty tube, bad football, and too many tourists.
He has a deep hate against a parrot, if parrots have zero haters he is dead.
Read Jane Austin and enjoyed it.
Has a book of stupid jokes in his apartment and laughs about them
When he is in love he is the cutest man alive, but somehow still creepy, he knows your favorite things in everything even your favorite underwear company even tho you never told anyone.
uses 5 - 1 shampoo .... from Lidl (still very keen on hygiene) 
NSFW 
He watches stepsiblings' porn unapologetically 
Has a mommy kink. I could go into heavy detail about it
He isn't a rough lover more of a service Dom 
Doesn't care about hair down there
Tumblr media
Soap: 
He sometimes feels left out in his family, his siblings have children and "normal" jobs. His family doesn't see his lifestyle as something to be proud of
Except for his mom, he is such a momma boy but in a good way.
Was a sperm doner once (more than once) but only because he is a good guy with fertile genes 
His mohawk was an accident, he decided it looked "fresh" so it stayed.
Watches DC instead of Marvel...... why?
Uses Hugo Boss, bottled Night, got it from his grandma, and never used anything else
NSFW: 
Gaz was his BI awakening: after las Almas and the broken shoulder he couldn't wank himself properly, and he got so frustrated because he couldn't even sleep properly with a woman because of it, and he didn't just want to go to the Pub and say "Hey my shoulder is broken can you wank me". So in his half-drunk state, he asked Gaz. And after promising each other they would never talk about it, Kyle did help him. Johnny never cummed that fast. He isn't sure if it was because of Kyle's skilled hands, Kyle's fucking hot body, or that he didn't have a wank in two weeks. And when Kyle licked his cum that was his awakening that he likes men and Women. Of course, he returned the favor after he was healed:)
His favorite porn category is Woman Masturbating or Male Masturbating, everything that is solo is 100000 times better than "real porn".
He lost his Virginity very Young to an older Woman. Johnny always flexed about this, but this isn't a reason to flex.
When you sleep with him - you need to be on the pill because he is mister fucks so hard that every condom breaks.
He wears lingerie sometimes - he pulls it better off than some of us :(
cums way too fast but can last like 4-6 rounds 
loves tit fucking
Tumblr media
Gaz: 
smells like Bleu de Chanel 
had a more expensive skincare routine than you 
he loves skincare 
He grew up with two moms.
He loves listening to Taylor Swift. No one can convince me otherwise.
Is deeply in love with me
He played Rugby in school. If he hadn't joined the Military, he would be a professional Rugby player.
Kyle was still somehow that awkward kid in class. Even needed to change the school because he got bullied.
NSFW:
He was disappointed in Johnny's cock sucking skills, but Price is a different breed.
can pull anyone and is mister give everyone an orgasm, not once in his life did he let his lover unsatisfied
had a foursome once when he was like 23, with three girls who were obsessed with him, and who can judge them
he is a guy who doesn't kiss and tell
his fav porn category is Anal Sex
has a CNC kink but is afraid to ask
is shaven down there but doesn't care if you are or not.
I have so much more ahhhh
397 notes · View notes
blackopals-world · 9 months
Text
Theater Kid!Yuu: I got complaints so I decided we are doing Six the Musical. My casting choices are Noble!Yuu as Catherine of Aragon.
Noble!Yuu: Finally a role fit for a queen.
Theater Kid!Yuu: Maid!Yuu as Anne Boleyn.
Maid!Yuu: It's because I'm dating Riddle isn't it? I get it off with her head, very funny.
Theater Kid!Yuu: You're also short. Don't hit me!
Maid!Yuu: (resisting the urge) fine.
Theater Kid!Yuu: Celestial!Yuu is Jane Seymour. You'll be great. I want every momma's boy crying in the audience.
Celestial!Yuu: My boys will be so excited to hear I got a role. Who is this Jane? Is she a mom? That's so nice.
Theater Kid!Yuu: (feeling guity) Yes, she's very nice. You'll do great. Moving on Vet!Yuu your Anna of Cleves because Special Forces!Yuu would cut off my kneecaps if I said otherwise. Also I'm scared you but in a cool way.
Vet!yuu: As you should be. At least I live by the end of the play.
Theater Kid!yuu: Katherine Howard will be played by Onsen!Yuu.
Onsen!Yuu: Why is that?
Theater kid!Yuu: ...
Onsen!Yuu: Are you saying I'm a slut?
Theater kid!Yuu: You like pink...so. Anyways Marine Biologist!Yuu is Catherine Parr.
Everyone else: What! No!
Marine Biologist!Yuu: Yay! I lived. Do you think Azul will see me on stage?
Vet!Yuu: I think you missed the point of your character. You don't need male validation.
Marine Biologist!Yuu: But I want it.
Celestial!Yuu: Can someone explain what this line means about having to go? Where am I going?
Maid!Yuu: I'm not telling them.
Onsen!Yuu: I still don't see why I'm Katherine. I mean she's my favorite but why me?
Theater kid!Yuu: Well I better go. (Runs away)
Tumblr media
718 notes · View notes
creepy-friday · 1 year
Text
Life as a female proxy
Notes: I only included the main 3 minions working under Slenderman and I might write more to include more residents!
Warnings: misogyny mentions,violence,a little suggestive in Brian's part
Masky gives the impression of being "the leader" altough there isn't one,he just likes to estabilish dominance to have the feeling that he's in control and that he's top shit.
He holds a grudge against you from the simple fact that you're a woman who has a high position over the mansion and the other creeps
He can be horribly misogynistic at times,arrogant and bossy,mostly due to the fact that all the women in his life left him(including his momma)
Clockwork would put him in his place really quick,Jane just ignores him and Nina avoids him like the plague.
He likes to show off to you in any way he can,he simply craves your validation and attention and is doing anything to get it one way or another, as long as he gets a reaction out of you it doesn't matter if it's negative or positive to him
He has closeted mommy issues
Tim's other side is different,whenever this soft human side comes out he's way more chill,often even tries to form a better relationship with you and understands if you ignore him. Sometimes he feels like he's losing his mind but it became a normal feeling to him and everyone in the manor at this point.
Tim snapping back to Masky or overlapping with him became the norm,that's why he takes his pills everywhere he goes
Hoodie/Brian differs a lot from his best friend. He respects you and actually listens to your opinions and plans,especially knowing how important your abilities are to the team
His personality can be described as a cold mentor during missions,he's quick and straight to the point,but since your humanity shows more often than his he grows soft on you,he won't admit it out loud tough
He looks out for you when no one else is,and altough he's in the wrong of thinking scenarios that wouldn't happen between the two of you,he's still secretly waiting for an opportunity for the both of you to get lonely,he can help with that
He's observing most of the time,whenever Toby has a panic attack and Masky bullies him for it he won't intervene until it gets bloody or the situation calls for it
Surprisingly Brian has the highest emotional intelligence out of the other proxies
Toby is a mess when it comes to you. At first he wanted to show off by being a big macho stupid boy,knowing you're kinda stuck with his ass so he wanted to profit off of it
Since all women except the ones from his family showed more disgust than interest in him,he became insecure,especially now with the scar on his face and how sickly he can look from time to time
Toby had crushes on girls he found pretty during missions but every chick rejected him whenever he had the balls to come to them
If you show him a grain of warmth and basic human respect his brain will automatically assume he has a chance with you
He already thinks he can have a chance with you tbh,he can be delusional to himself. He would be shooked tough if you ever tell him that you do indeed find him cute/likeable, a nice person like you with a freak like him would make a good joke,or so he thinks.
He snaps more often around you and that makes him even more anxious because of how he views you/his feelings towards you platonic or romantic,it's hard to make the difference
2K notes · View notes
barblaz-arts · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
I can't sleep, so here's a post about each of their Pokemon's personalities/backgrounds. Btw I like names following themes, so Wednesday's pokemons are named after classic authors, while Enid's are references to kpop groups. Whether they exist or not in their pokemon universe is totally up to you to hc
Gothita
Nickname: Agatha
Tumblr media
-basically Wednesday jr. If W hates being considered her mother's mini me, Agatha takes pride in it
-bit of a lil shit. Provokes Enid's pokemons, especially the Riolu
-was a gift from Morticia. W was reluctant to have another pokemon after the death of her skorupi, but W soon grew attached to her. This is also why Agatha is a bit of a "momma's girl"
Murkrow
Tumblr media
Nickname: Jane
-thinks this whole feud over Mimikyu is a lil dumb
Duskull
-tried to get W lost in the forest, was invited into her team instead
Tumblr media
-willingly went along before even getting caught by a pokeball when she learned that she gets to have a shiny lil brooch for it
-wants to befriend Enid and her Eevee but both were scared of her at first
-treats Mimikyu like a little brother
Nickname: Emily
Tumblr media
-very shy
Riolu
Nickname: Luna
-used to be Esther's
-is unable to tune into Aura due to some defect and is having trouble evolving
-was going to be discarded for that but Enid took her in instead
-very competitive
Growlithe
Nickname: Velvet
Tumblr media
-is the big sister figure for the team(even W's, no matter if Agatha and Jane deny it)
-very protective of Enid. WILL bite Wednesday. HAS bitten Wednesday
Eevee
Nickname: Zwei
Tumblr media
-always a lil nervous, especially around ghost types
-was a parting gift from Enid's father before she went on her journey
Mimikyu
Nickname: TBA
-likes to steal. Mischievous lil guy.
-likes stories, whether it's Wednesday's WiP novel or Enid's gossips
-is supposed to be this AU's equivalent to Thing
Tumblr media
966 notes · View notes
algea · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
just a few headcannons I have for Lars
(btw these are mine, they may not be yours)
Lars is the type of guy who gets super mega irritated if you ask too many questions about anyone besides him. Oh, you're asking him about his work? It's fine until you bug him with questions about other people and their work
Despite what you may believe, Lars is also a very jealous guy. One word about another guy and he's already interrogating you like you just murdered someone
Dude has absolutely no chill when it comes to his work. Someone starts talking shit about what he does and it's so over for them.
Even though he may not show it, Lars really enjoys when you touch him. If you're sitting beside him at the lab and place a hand on his shoulder, he's definitely leaning into you and relishing your touch (could also definitely be taken into other context as well).
Lars can absolutely, in no way shape or form, cook to save his life. He heavily relies on whatever he's got in his pantry or you to make him something. He also doesn't really have time for breakfast, so you best believe he's a snacker.
Lars talks to his mom on the phone everyday after he gets home from work. He is, without a doubt, a momma raised boy and you love it.
Lars hates coffee. Plain and simple. He will literally drink anything other than coffee. In fact, his favored drink isn't tea, it's water. He has to maintain his perfect hair somehow.
He may be a cocky son of a bitch, but he will definitely stand up for you if someone belittles you. Lars likes to tease you by saying rude things, but you know that he's just playing and that's how he flirts. When other people do it, he's very quick to jump on their ass about it. Absolutely no tolerance for someone making fun of you.
Even though Lars may not be social, he loves to converse about science and whatnot. He could literally get stuck in a conversation for hours about science. You find it so cute that whenever someone brings up something he likes to talk about, his pupils widen and a grin breaks out on his face.
Lars really loves to listen to music. He listens to it in the lab, at home, anywhere he can really. He's more into indie and older music, like Bees Gees, Sports Team, or Turning Jane.
Lars likes stupid romcom movies. It's a bit cliche, but he really loves a good romcom movie. He'd sit there for hours and watch them if you let him. He hates to admit it, but he loves Clueless and Legally Blonde.
He loves it when you kiss him. Whenever you kiss him, he always has a stupid little love drunk smile after. He's so head over heels for you and it's so cute.
Surprisingly, he's not super neat. Of course, he's not super messy either. Normally, he has a little clutter on his desk and he hates when someone touches something. If someone starts to clean up his desk a little, he's super quick to tell them off about it.
Lars loves when he's able to relax with you. On the days that neither of you are at the lab all night, he loves to curl up with you on the bed and talk about something. Sometimes you both read instead of talking. Just kinda a way to decompress after a long few days of work.
Even though he hunts ghosts, Lars is scared super easily. You could literally be standing behind a door and when he opens it he jumps and lets out a string of curses. This, of course, comes with some of the best pranks you've ever pulled on him. However, don't think that he won't do something back. He despises horror movies and makes you hold his hand whenever you watch one.
Lars puts a lot of time into his hair and skin. We all know about the Pukey incident (which you did not let him live down), so you definitely know that he's extra careful with his skincare and haircare from now on (his hair turned green for a few days).
Despite not knowing how to cook, Lars is such a foodie. If he has the chance to try something new, you best believe he's going to try it. Lars also loves fruity drinks, non-alcoholic and alcoholic (just like James).
I hope you guys liked some of these headcannons as much as I do because they're so fun to write.
89 notes · View notes
my-soupy-brain · 2 months
Note
could we have one where Ted’s having a high anxiety week and just needs some extra reassurance that he’s not too much??
We all have days like this, right? I've been in them a lot lately. Keeping quiet. Trying to make myself small, so as not to annoy anyone. It's hard! And those of us with big energy deserve love and acceptance like anyone else. So let's gooo!
---
Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (GN)
Warnings: None, all comfort
---
First Beard snapped at him.
Then he got into a fight with his mom.
Henry was a bit testy with him on Facetime last night.
Roy grumbled at him when he asked him out for a pint.
Ted was feeling... a little...
Well, shitty. Blue. Lousy. Like he was too much. His positivity was too much for Michelle, and now it was too much for everyone else.
On Wednesday he texted you.
Ted: Big fight with Momma. Beard snapped at me about somethin' I said. I just can't seem to do nothin' right.
You frowned, wanting to find him and scoop him into your arms.
You: I'm sorry, sweetheart. Don't let it get you down. I hear Mercury is in retrograde. Maybe everyone is frazzled.
Ted smiled at your rationality.
Ted: Maybe you're right.
So by Friday night, when you finally got to see each other again, Ted was feeling low. A little anxious, even. He slumped into your apartment with a small "Hey, there," and hung his jacket in the hall.
"You OK?" you asked, tilting your head, giving him a soft smile.
Ted just smiled gently. "I'm alright."
You picked up on it immediately. You walk closer and pull him into your arms for a tight hug.
"I love you, just as you are."
Ted's eyes close as he leans his weight into your embrace.
"Don't try to be small around me. Don't try to quiet yourself. Don't be anyone but you, Theodore Lasso," you whisper, kissing the side of his head.
Ted smiles weakly and holds you still.
"You're a big ol' sunshine in this downtrodden world, honey. And I refuse to let anyone put out your light."
When Ted pulls away, his hazel eyes are big and happy. Your cup his face and kiss his lips gently.
"Now sit down and make yourself at home. I've got dinner almost ready and a bottle of wine to share."
By the time you're done eating, Ted is telling you all about his day. Replying all the little arguments he'd had. He feels a little better, and your advice always helps.
As you sit back on the couch to put on a movie, you lace your fingers with yours and smile.
"Everybody has their days," you offer. "Roy's been a bit upside down, you said, so maybe he needed time alone. Beard is sensitive to some things with the sport because he's competitive. And, y'know, Jane..."
Ted nods.
"And your momma? We all fight with our parents and people who raised us. They're our closest people so of course we pick each other apart."
Ted smiles again, leaning his head on your shoulder.
"You're doing your best. Everyone's doing their best. Don't let other folks make you feel inferior for being you. I promise it was just a bad week for everyone."
"Thank you," Ted says softly. "Thank you for bein' practical. For bein' you."
You smile and kiss his head, pulling a blanket up to cover you.
"You still wanna watch this movie?"
Ted nods. "Should we take bets on how long that lasts before we end up with our tongues tangled?"
You know he's coming back to his old self, now that he's laying on the Lasso flirt charm. You chuckle.
"Oh that won't take long, I've missed you too damn much."
Ted pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. You can see his chest hair above his polo and smell his woodsy cologne.
You sigh happily, gazing at him.
"It might be even less than that..."
Ted grins before leaning in for a kiss.
Tumblr media
---
Of course Ted is gonna get handsy when you're so good to him! Also, we've all been there, Ted. It's not you. Don't let anyone snuff out your light! Thanks for the prompt, friend!
66 notes · View notes
Text
The Captain's Girls
October 11th, 2023
"What am I supposed to do? Pack orange slices? Send in juice boxes?"
Quinn's hands find my hips, slowing my pacing and quickly wrapping their way around my body to keep me in place.
"No one is asking you to do that, Rue. You're my girlfriend, not their mom, you don't have to pack snacks or organize carpool like you do for Ellie," He assures, trying to light it up with a joke, but this is no joke. This is important to me.
"Quintin Hughes-"
"Still not my name, and you know that, but carry on."
"-This is my first game going as the captain's girlfriend. I missed all of the preseason games because of visiting my parents and things for Ellie. And I had to facetime your mom to help me pick out outfits good enough for Ellie and I to be seen in, and don't even get me started on how long that took because only half my wardrobe fits over this stupid bump-"
"Not stupid, we love that bump, that bump is our son."
"Yes, you know I love him," I respond, not even slowing down. "But what if the guys don't think I'm good enough? What should I-"
I don't get to continue my rambling, his lips meeting mine and wiping any spiraling thoughts from my head. And as he pulls away, he smiles with so much love in his eyes it makes my anxious nausea settle.
"You, Ruthie Jane, are overthinking with that - gorgeous - big - incredible brain of yours," Each word punctuated with a kiss to my head, his hands coming to rest on my cheeks, making sure my eyes meet his. "No one is expecting you to be perfect. To bring snacks or drinks or anything like that to the games. You know the rink provides foods for the families anyways. And you're going to be gorgeous in whatever you wear to the game. You could show up in a garbage bag and still be the most beautiful woman in a room," He assures, his hands running from my cheeks and down my arms, taking ahold of hands and stepping back to look over my outfit, a simple Canucks blue jumpsuit that makes my five month bump even more apparent, a Canucks bomber jacket with Q's last name and number on the back keeping me warm, his captains C staring back at him.
"You look gorgeous," He assures, pulling me back in, wrapping me up tight.
"What about me Daddy!" Ellie's voice interrupts our moment, her body hurling at our legs. Always a daddy's girl.
"You're are just as beautiful as your momma, baby," Q compliments, bending and pulling her up into our hug, her little blue bell bottoms and a miniature version of her father's Canucks jersey keeping her matching the both of us, with a white longsleeve to keep her warm.
Thank God for Ellen constantly sending us knew clothes as she grows. We've already had to ask the team for a new jersey twice since Ellie and I came back into Quinn's life.
"You hear that Momma? I'm just like you! Will CJ be just like Daddy?" She asks, hand reaching down to pat where she knows her brother to be.
"One can only hope baby," I answer, my eyes catching Quinn's, his eyes the shape of hearts before he steps back, still holding Ellie and bouncing her around.
"Ok, I'm just gonna put Ellie in my equipment bag and then we can head to the game," Quinn tells me, starting to swing the little girl towards the disgusting bag that typically takes residence in the garage, her giggles filling the room and my heart.
"Daddy! No! No! I sit with Momma during game!" She squeals, Q pausing and holding her in front of him, eyes jokingly wide.
"Oh, so you don't come with me?"
"No Daddy," She's still giggling, digging her head into his chest and giving us a moment to catch eyes, and God I can't help but love this man.
"Well, we need to get going, cause otherwise Daddy will be late," He prompts, but before he's even done speaking we're both grabbing our bags, his to play and mine for Ellie, his body nudging mine as he draws close. And he smiles, his classic Quinn smile. "And I don't think they'll be okay with it, even if it was the Captain's girls who caused it."
109 notes · View notes
uispeccoll · 3 months
Text
#VoicesFromTheStacks
Tumblr media
Image: Self Portrait with cranes from Hope Project (Photo credit: Clarissa Sligh)   
The Artist Books of Clarissa Sligh
In honor of Black History Month, we are highlighting artist, writer, and lecturer Clarissa Sligh. Born in Washington, D.C. and raised in Virginia, Sligh is often inspired by cultural, historical, and political events that intersect with moments in her life. Sligh considers these interactions, or “collisions,” between moments in history and events in one’s life to be significant and transformative. One such example of this is detailed in Sligh’s work “It Wasn’t Little Rock,” which discusses desegregation in public schools during the 1960s, a personal topic for Sligh, who was the lead plaintiff at the age of 15 in a school desegregation case.    
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Images: Cover and inside page of "It Wasn't Little Rock" (2005)
A notable example of Sligh’s work and its reference to her personal experiences is her 1988 artist's book titled “What’s Happening with Momma?” Here, the artist engages users to “walk” through rooms of her childhood home, following the steps of accordion-folded strips of paper filled with text detailing memories of her sister’s birth in the home. This is Sligh’s first artist’s book, made through the Women’s Studio Workshop in New York.   
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Images: Cover and inside page of "What's Happening with Momma" (1988)
Sligh earned a BS in Mathematics from Hampton Institute in Virginia, a BFA and an MFA in visual arts from Howard University, and an MBA from the University of Pennsylvania. Earlier in her career she had worked at NASA in the manned space flight program, eventually leaving to focus on working as an artist. Her works have been featured all over the world, notably at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the National Museum of African American History and Culture, and more. To learn more about Sligh and her works, visit the artist’s website. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Images: Cloth enclosure, cover and inside page of "Voyage(r): A Tourist Map to Japan" (2000)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Images: Left: Inside page of "Reading Dick and Jane with Me" (1989). Right: Cover and origami crane for "Transforming Hate" (2016).
– Kaylee S., Special Collections Olson Graduate Assistant
67 notes · View notes
neverlookatthisblog · 5 months
Text
Harlow Christmas
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Merry Christmas hope you all have a wonderful day enjoy it
Just a little concept super short ngl it’s all I could write but it’s worth it
It was always so hectic during the holidays especially this year since you were off
The kids woke you up nice and early excited to open the presents you and Jack bought them
Everyone was now in the living room while you finished up making breakfast and after you all at the table Mae tapped your back you gave her your full attention
“Momma can we open themmm now” Mae begged
“Yes go ahead” you said
“Yay” she happily skipped tell her siblings
Like she wasn’t begging you last night to open one of her presents
“Please just one” it was Christmas Eve so you gave in of course
Jack on the other was a little more on the grumpy side especially when he got woken up by the kids
“Cmon grinch don’t be a booger” you say playful
“Fine” he said getting up
Now you both watched the kids happily open there presents you got them
Being nice you decided to get Jane her first bottle of perfume it was nothing crazy it had a sweet flower smell to it
She was happy about it but Jack
“Thank you mommy” she smiled
“Are you trying to make her smell like a grown womenn” he said you rolled your eyes
“Jack please it doesn’t even smell like a grown women” you said
“Okay your right it not that bad” he said smelling it
Christmas was always your favorite holiday and when you had kids you enjoyed it even more you loved giving back or just simply buying gifts
It was something really special about it you loved seeing people happy especially your family
They enjoyed there time opening there Christmas present you decided to go out with a bang making your famous Christmas dinner that you make every year
69 notes · View notes
geemyfirstluvstory · 6 months
Text
"Oh! oh! oh! oh!, 오빠를 사랑해"
blue lock boys as boyfriends + playlist (can y'all tell i listen to too much kpop), fem reader, i'm feeling sad and depressed rn let me be a little angsty but i can't stand sad endings
michael kaiser: melancholy at it's finest but not in a sad way, but definitely in a more nostalgic way. he's a red flag at best and a long gone man at worst. but as a boyfriend he does his best to make you feel good about yourself, mostly via spoiling you rotten. diamonds, clothes, the best food, anything. maybe he doesn't actually like you maybe he just likes the idea of you. but he will eventually come to love you and when he does it's like a dream, he has a resting bitch face and cocky attitude but when he does open up to you it's completely serious.
playlist- chill kill (red velvet), no blueberries (dpr ian ft dpr live + cl), baby (dj roots ft camo + 정진형), love story (indilla), flower (jisoo), siren (taeyeon), anoko complex (=LOVE), monochrome kiss (SID), diary of jane (breaking benjamin)
oliver aiku: yeah girl you're not dating him...he's definitely an ex as i write this. this man is, despite how nice he is, a player at heart and girl you can't change that. but he does keep you in mind. perhaps you're his favourite special lady. he kind of pops in and out of your life, big dick though so it's okay. he knows how to treat a lady though so it's not bad but you have to be careful or you'll catch too many feelings. maybe some time passes and you're eventually end game.
playlist- rsvp (koala ft. jessi), GAL (ohayo), mommae (jay park ft ugly duck), party (chris brown ft tyga), boom (dpr live ft dpr ian), thnks fr th mmrs (fall out boy), gamez (bei maejor ft keri hilson)
don lorenzo: girl why? girl, bye. the least you could do is make sure he had real teeth...but oh well we all slip up sometimes. he's addicted to you completely, day and night he thinks about you. y'all know homeboy loves money you likely met him at a club or party. somewhere in that territory and don has no problem with spending loads of cash on you. probably wooed you over with a condo in florence since y'know his little honey in his hometown. but his biggest flaw is definitely his obsession over money
playlist- ayo (chris brown), royals (lorde), ps5 (salem ilese ft txt), i got a boy (girl's generation), swalla (jason derulo), hula hoops (dpr live ft beenzino + hwasa), empire (wengie ft minnie), red lipstick (lee hi ft yoon mirae), best friend (saweetie ft doja cat), nobody's better (Z ft fetty wap)
118 notes · View notes
thegamingcatmom · 1 year
Text
Evil Dead Rise...but gayer
Okay but imagine Ellie aka Maggot Mommy clapping eyes on you and yes there´s this urge to chase and rip and eat your soul and all (she´s still an evil ancient entity after all) but there´s also something else. And she/it doesn´t know what it is because she/it is an evil ancient entity which absolutely thrives on being a lil shithead just for the fun of it (that´s what I love most about Maggot Mommy and it´s what makes her stand out from other deadites imo).
Tumblr media
Anyhow, Maggot Momma sees you, sprints towards you, only to stop inches away from your face and start sniffing you. Like, really sniffing you. All over.
It´s starting to get a bit uncomfortable and weird af actually and maybe now´s a good time to get the f outta there but jokes on you - you´re already being carried off, none too gently mind you (Maggot Momma still gotta learn how to human aight so leave her alone) and promptly plonked onto the floor in Ellie´s apartment. And while Deadite Mommy´s still thinking about her choices here (those being: eating you now or later) you snap out of it and actually try to make a run for it.
Tumblr media
Only, you failed to notice there´s a whole fucking family of undead…whatever they are. Leering at you, creeping closer, coming way too close and suddenly they´re on top, all snapping teeth and snarling in your face and JUST when you thought this is it-
Tumblr media
Maggot Momma´s set her eyes on you first and she WILL start whoopin some asses if the family even thinks about touching what isn´t theirs to devour.
So as the family scuttles off with their tails between their legs (cause Deadite Momma rules) only you and Deadite Ellie remain. But you´re still alive and kicking (for now), so I guess that´s a good thing (kinda)?
I just really LOVE this concept of evil, otherworldly creatures absolutely thriving on wreaking havoc and committing murder left and right. I LOVE evil entities being truly evil and staying true to who they are and what makes them so ASDFNSADFLASDF. They´re just pure evil and long for utter chaos and destruction…except when it comes to a certain someone. When it comes to them it´s more like (not so) little shit mode activated with a healthy dose of “I licks it, I keeps it” and JUST the right amount of sweetness (that being: looking at you rather unimpressed when you reprimand them for brutally slaughtering someone, again.)
Also, they can be the biggest pain in the ass, my god- (you kinda adore it though, almost).
(Btw, Maggot Mommy trying to bring that eyeball back up looked JUST like my cats when they´re about to absolutely explode after they´ve eaten too much cat grass. it´s actually kind of…adorable? Lmao.)
So here you are and for some reason, this demon has deemed you worthy enough to keep around for a bit longer and maybe it´s your smell that ended up being your saving grace or maybe it´s something totally different. Either way, somehow you´ve found your way right into the clutches of this family of…undead beings (zombies?) and The Mother is quite pleased indeed…
So yeah, I guess you could see this as some kind of Tarzan/Jane story? Just really (really) fucked up? And Deadite Momma is trying (and failing miserably) to human.
But also, there would be lots of sniffing and licking involved, just saying.
Tumblr media
But also also:
Tumblr media
(Ahem...)
So, after some really, really, really long time has passed you´ve come to realize you might not get munched on after all. Maggot Momma still gotta learn the basics of human behavior though, like personal space wha-? (You indulge her moods most of the time though since you quite like being alive and all and you´d rather it stayed that way…)
And it´s even better when Maggot Momma ain´t realizing she´s doing it. With time, being neck-deep into whatever part of you has become sort of a natural response whenever her human is near. Which happens to be quite often since there´s only so much space to be had when you gotta share it with a family of evil ancient entities who hear and see it all. (Taking a piss has never been more uncomfortable.)
Most times, Maggot Mommy is being extra touchy feely just because she knows it makes you feel hella weirded-out (and some other things) though. She´s still a lil shithead after all and that´s why we love her.
Tumblr media
Aight so, things have somewhat calmed down a bit (meaning: you´re not in danger of being eaten alive anymore) and the Deadite!Kids have decided that playing “pranks” on you is a good way to pass time. Pranks that give you nightmares. Like sitting in front of you. In the middle of the night. Unblinking. Wearing a grin rivalling Cheshire Cat´s. And what´s with their neck-
A head´s not supposed to do that.
Tumblr media
But fear not, for Momma´s there to soothe your fears. And she´s trying, she really is.
Tumblr media
But it doesn´t really help your case when Maggot Momma´s speaking to you oh so sweetly in her dark, sultry, demonic voice while the remains of some poor soul - foolish (or brave?) enough to wander her territory - are still sticking to her face, between her teeth, that breath my god-
So after attempting to calm you down, Momma´s decided now´s a good time for that promised ass whoopin.
Tumblr media
Which doesn´t help in calming you down either since Deadite!Momma reprimanding her Deadite!Kids for scaring the absolute crap outta you (something only SHE gets to do) sounds like hell itself has opened up to swallow you whole. In other words: it does not sound pretty, at all.
Tumblr media
The kids try to make it up to you though. They start to provide for you, even. Only, leg hasn´t exactly been on the menu for you (yet) and that severed head they brought you today didn´t do much for you either.
You actually excused yourself for a minute to go to the bathroom. You´re not planning on coming back out any time soon.
Meanwhile:
Tumblr media
(Patience isn’t exactly Maggot Mommy’s strong suit though, so you better not keep her waiting for too long…)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(2 mins later:)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
161 notes · View notes
cowboydisaster · 1 year
Text
The Fire In Your Eyes
part VI: horseshoe overlook ii
Tumblr media
pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 13.3k
summary: you, Arthur, and Hosea find some important horses on your trek to a hunt gone-wrong. Away from camp, Arthur opens up, letting you peek through his point of view to his heart-breaking past. Dutch asks for your help.
a/n: chapter six! Arthur and reader find their heart horses, there's a lot of hurt/comfort too which we love. Oh and I spoiled a plot point to Jane Eyre, so sorry if you were planning to read it, but also it was published 176 years ago so maybe get onto that. Also the tuberculosis in Jane Eyre was just a coincidence, so don't fret. I plan on keeping Arthur tb free. Lastly, there is some good ol' fashioned 'talking about our feelings' in this chapter. We are opening up and talking about trauma, yay! BTW, series hit 50k this chapter! Anyway! Enjoy
warnings: animal abuse (seeing a horse that has been abused), mentions of former child abuse, mentions of infertility, all are described briefly, nothing graphic.
SERIES MASTERPOST
taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo10300 @dudsparrow
series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Arthur’s supposed to be on watch, and you’re supposed to be doing laundry. But he’s tired of staring at trees and you’re sick of cleaning beer and stew out of Uncle’s long johns, so here you are.
Technically, Arthur hasn’t completely abandoned his task like you have. You’re both sitting on a decent sized boulder, the one he always sits on during his guard shift, just off the trail into Horseshoe. But his eyes are not focused on the trees, instead they fixate on his journal, where he is sketching something on the ivory pages. You’re all too curious, again, about what he’s drawing, but he's positioned in a manner so the contents remain hidden from your nosey gaze. He hasn’t missed the way you subtly lean every once in a while, peering down your nose to try and see the pages. Each time he notices, a small smile tugs on his lip, and he pulls the journal a little tighter towards himself. Arthur’s carbine rests between you two on the rock, next to a little bag of candies that he had picked up when you were in town a few days ago. Currently, your nose is in a book, but you haven’t been reading it for a few moments, instead peeking over the pages at Arthur. It’s nice to get away from camp for a bit. The past few days you’ve spent doing house chores for Grimshaw. She was less than happy when you “Went to the saloon all day with the men” as she put it, those couple days ago. She made sure that you made up for the lost time, and you were stuck peeling potatoes for so long that your hands went numb. 
It’s a beautiful day, the sun shines brightly, and a warm breeze passes through the camp. Birds chirp, singing their tunes as they build nests in the trees above your head. A few rabbits have passed by, even a fox, filling up on food before the storm hits, another reason you’re avoiding your chores. Charles had warned everyone that by the look of the clouds, a big storm was coming, probably tomorrow. You’ll be damned if you spent the last nice day staring at Pearson’s apron or a laundry bin.
You watch as Arthur moves his eyes from the journal to the bag of sweets, and he reaches into it, pulling out a yellow candy. With an almost unnoticeable frown, he drops it back into the paper  bag, and pulls out a red one. He seems satisfied enough with this choice, and he brings the little treat to his lips. It’s been so long since you’ve had the pleasure of candy, and you’ve gone and eaten nearly half the bag. You haven’t had money for pleasantries in a long while, not since your momma died anyway. 
“You don’t like the lemon ones?” You ask, reaching into the bag and pulling out the one he had dropped back inside. You pop it into your mouth, eyes slipping shut in bliss from the sweet, tart flavor of the candy. Arthur looks up at you for a quick moment, scanning over your face with a chuckle before trailing back down to his journal. 
“Nah, I like 'em well enough, but I noticed they’re your favorite. Didn’t wanna take all the good ones from ya.” 
You smile, grabbing another yellow candy from the bag just as you feel the remnants of the last one finish dissolving. You missed hard candies. They weren’t exactly high on your list of priorities before joining the gang. You put your book down, a piece Marybeth had let you borrow. You’ve read it a few times, and you already know exactly what the pages entail. However, you don’t know what the pages of Arthur’s journal look like. 
“Whatcha drawin’?” You ask, criss crossing your legs on the boulder. Arthur huffs a laugh, having expected this question. 
“Nothin’ much, just somethin’ little.” Arthur whispers. You’re confused as he leans down towards the grass, plucking a dooryard violet from a little patch of the wildflowers. So many of Arthur’s actions throw you for a loop. He’s so… dynamic, constantly showing you new sides to him that you would never expect. 
He unsheathes his hunting knife, quickly snipping the stem of the flower off. Now what really throws you off is when Arthur leans over, concentrated, and tucks the flower behind your ear. He adjusts your hair accordingly. 
“There,” He whispers, settling back into his former position to admire you. “Purple looks good on you, well except when it's your cheek that's purple but-” Arthur jokes, nodding to your bruised cheek, and you laugh, shoving him a bit. 
“I was just about to say that you’re goin’ soft, but now you’re makin’ fun of me. I guess things are back to normal.”
Arthur’s face turns to mock hurt, as he squints at you. 
“I ain’t goin’ soft.” He chides. 
You placate him, putting your hands up. 
“Alright, whatever you say, Mister.” 
With a smile, you pick your book back up. Arthur reaches into the bag of candy, pulling out a yellow one. Words need not be said as he mumbles to get your attention, and when you look up, he tosses the little yellow candy towards you. You catch it, tossing it into your mouth and thanking him. It’s quiet as both of you pick your books back up. It’s nice, with you both silently enjoying each other's company. You’re lost in the world of Jane Eyre, and Arthur lost in his journal. Every so often Arthur will peek up from his book, glancing at you for a moment before returning to his sketching. 
You reach the bit of the novel where Helen is lying on her deathbed, finally succumbing to tuberculosis. This particular scene has been read and reread by you many times, but it still manages to choke you up. Helen is so brave in the face of death, so sure of the paradise that will await her. And poor Jane, another loss, another grief. You’re not sure what happens after death, but if there is an afterlife, you’re not so sure you’ll be on the pleasant side of it. Tears begin to prick the sides of your eyes as Helen speaks her last line to Jane, begging her not to grieve, beckoning her to find joy. Arthur eyes you curiously from the side of his eyes, wondering what about that little book has you so in your head. With a sigh, you finish the chapter and sniffle, placing the book down to take a breath. Arthur’s charcoal stills on the paper as he hesitates, a question on his lips. 
“What's goin’ on in that head a yours? Tough read?” Arthur asks, gesturing to the little ruby colored book in your hands. You meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow, placing the book down on it’s opened pages to keep  your spot. 
“How about a compromise? I’ll tell ya…if you show me what you’re drawin.” 
Arthur’s eyes turn dark with mock threat as he whispers, tone gravelly. 
“Never.”  He chuckles, and you sigh dramatically. 
You both slip into a comfortable silence again, and you find yourself bored. You don’t feel like reading any more, and you’ve picked through most of the yellow candies, so in a futile attempt to distract yourself you toy with your spurs, flicking the rowel and watching as it spins. Arthur notices this, and he huffs. He’s noticed in the past few weeks that you’re always keeping your hands busy, always toying with something or other. He thinks back to when you were tracing constellations on his palm in the bath, and his head hangs low with some shame, and a pain. 
“I uh- I been meanin’ to apologize…” Arthur mumbles, eyes fixated on his book. 
Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, what on earth does he have to apologize for?
“The other day in Valentine, in the bath house. I overstepped- or I misread the situation n’ Im sorry. Never meant to make you uncomfortable, Star.” Arthur all but whispers, a heavy feeling settling in his gut because he doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to push you away, and he is. 
Immediately your heart sinks, you’ve been meaning to have this conversation, practicing your words when you lie awake at night, unable to sleep. But all the things you wanted to say slip from your mind.
“That wasn't… you didn't-" You mumble, at a loss for words. There's so much you could tell him right now, so much you could explain. But you don't. No, instead you shove it down, pulling that unbothered facade over your face that has been protecting you from heartache for years. 
"We don't gotta talk about it, Arthur." You whisper, flicking the rowel of your spurs and avoiding his eye contact. 
You can still see it though, as Arthur leans back, cocking his head with a downcast face. He wants to talk about it, but you can't. 
With a sigh, you lay back against the rock, hands behind your head to look up at the clouds. As soon as your back hits the rock, Arthur sighs, humorously irritated. 
"Dammit woman will you just- " Arthur chuckles, pulling you back up to a sitting position by grabbing your forearm. 
"Just hold still for a minute, I'm tryin' to do somethin…" Arthur smiles because you're always moving, you can't sit still, and a moving model proves to be a difficult one. 
You go back to your sitting position, and Arthur leans over towards you, adjusting the violet in your hair. Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion for a moment until you spot the little journal sitting in his lap, closed over his charcoal. Your eyes go wide, and your lips crack into a shocked smile.
Arthur leans back, picking the journal back up and opening it. For a few seconds his eyes run over the soft features of your face, and then he looks down to his paper.
"You're- You're drawin' me ?" You ask, perplexed, honored.
When Arthur glances up, seeing the look on your face, he gets nervous. He probably should have asked your permission first. He didn't mean anything strange by the drawing, and he doesn't want you to think that. 
Arthur scratches the back of his neck, searching for words to explain, but falling short.
"Uh- yeah, I am. But I don't mean anything odd by it. I just like to draw things that I like or that I find- Well, I don't know, usually I draw things that I think are pretty. Like nature n' plants and uh…" Arthur rambles, terrified you're gonna think he's some type of pervert. A smile blossoms across your face, a full, genuine one. He's dug himself in with his words he realizes when you lean in toward him, voice quiet. 
"...and me?" You ask, finishing his sentence. Arthur smiles crookedly, eyes on the paper as he responds. 
"Yeah, like you." 
You smile, content. Arthur continues sketching. The quiet scratching of charcoal on paper is the only reminder that he's still beside you as you slip your eyes shut, soaking up the last of the sun. You listen to his sketching, to his breathing, and the little sighs and chuckles he lets out when you move too much. He knows you can't sit still, it's just one of those little things about you. 
After a while, the sketching stops, and you peek one eye open, glancing down at Arthurs hands. He sets the charcoal down, closes the book and then dusts his hands off of his jeans. 
"You gonna let me see it?" You ask, turning towards him, adjusting the flower in your hair. 
"I never really shown anyone this… My new one or my old." Arthur says, quietly. 
"You don't gotta, it's okay." You reassure, sincerely. He's very closed off about the journal, and you respect that. Having one yourself, you understand the desire to keep it hidden away. Arthur thinks for a moment, looking down to the leather bound journal in his hands. 
"Here," he whispers, opening it to the correct page and handing it towards you. You hesitate, not wanting to push him, but he nods for you to go on.
"It's just for fun, I'm not real good or anything." Arthur adds, always having a lesser opinion of his works. 
You very gently take the pages from his hands, pulling the book towards you. You cover your gaping mouth in shock. Anytime Arthur has previously mentioned his drawings he downplayed them greatly. You should have expected this, as he always down plays his talents. But you had expected messy scribblings, doodles. 
What Arthhr has created is beautiful. He intricately copied your face onto the paper, perfectly portraying you in his own style. His shading is perfect, contouring your face and the bright smile plastered onto it. He's drawn the violet, sticking out from behind your ear. 
"Arthur…" You gasp, taken aback by his artistry. Next to the journal is a little note, accompanied by your name, spelled out in all caps, and a little drawing of the north star. 
She joined me for my guard shift again. We was bored so I started drawing while she read something or other. She looked real pretty with that flower in her hair, oh and she likes YELLOW CANDIES.
Arthur blushes a bit, embarrassed that you've read his thoughts, but he knows you won't judge him for it. Make fun of him, however? Knowing you, you will. He chuckles, glancing up to your face. 
A throat clears behind you both, and you jump, turning to see Hosea standing there. He curiously eyes Arthur's journal in your hands, eyes flickering between the two of you, knowing that you're the first person he's ever shown those pages to. 
"How's your watch goin'?" Hosea asks, knowingly quirking a brow. 
"Just fine, now whatchu need?" Arthur asks, gently taking the journal back and binding it up. Hosea is unshaken by Arthur's attitude, having dealt with it for nearly twenty years. 
"Your horse. I'm heading to the stables to buy a new ride, but I need a way to get there." Hosea answers. 
"Thought that was your horse there? Why don't you ride him down to the stables?" Arthur asks, gesturing up the slope towards the hitching posts to where a massive black shire horse resides. You don't recall seeing the beastly animal before, but then again you've been stuck with Miss Grimshaw. 
"Yes, well I'm giftin' that bastard to you. He's a nasty son of a bitch, and I'm too old to be thrown. I nearly died a handful of times just getting him back here. I stole him from a fella on the road a few days back, now Karmas got me." Hosea says, angrily gesturing towards the stallion who is pinning his ears and pawing the ground impatiently. 
"He can't be all bad. You know anything about him?" You say, eyebrows pulled together as you stand up, walking up the slopes to the posts. The two boys follow you. 
"Well before I robbed him of his horse and his hunting map, me and this fella got to drinkin'. He was boasting about this damn thing, and said it was immortal. Apparently he was ridden by a bounty hunter before this, and got hit with more bullet shrapnel than you'd believe. Somehow he managed to stay alive. Fella was drunker than a skunk though, so I reckon you should take it with a grain of salt."
You stand back with Hosea as Arthur steps towards the uneasy animal. The horse stomps, ears pinned, and Arthur coos to him, hands up in surrender to the animal. 
"That boys' always had a way with animals." Hosea remarks, watching as Arthur calms the shire enough to pet it. His hands meet the dark horse's neck as he shushes. After a few moments, the horse begins to calm. His tail stops swishing, his ears prick to the sides, listening to Arthur and his lip becomes loose. 
"Real good, boy. Now don't go kickin me, I'm just gonna take a look, I ain't gonna hurt ya." Arthur coos, running his hand from the horse's front shoulder down to its hock and pastern. He whistles lightly, pulling his hand back up. 
"Feller weren't lyin'. Legs are covered in old scars. It's a miracle he didn't die from infection or just get put down." Arthur says, patting the horse's croup before backing up, eyeing the horse from a few steps back. 
"He got a name?" Arthur asks, and Hosea shakes his head. 
"No, never given one." Hosea adds.
"Reckon I'll start callin you Balius, you're a strong one." Arthur says, moving back towards the horse and picking up his hoof, checking over the state of it. 
"Balius…?" You ask, not sure why Arthur would have picked that name. It's beautiful,  but foreign to you. 
"Ah, Balius. An immortal horse, a gift from Poseidon." Hosea smiles, looking at Arthur and the horse. 
"Arthur, he's a smart one. Too humble to show it often, I'm afraid." Hosea whispers to you. 
You think back to Boadicea. Arthur must take some interest in history and mythology. You curiously watch him, seeing Arthur in a different light. 
"Okay, I can take him off your hands. Go ahead and ride my Walker to the stables. Just board him there for now, I'll see how this big guy does." Arthur says, pulling an oatcake from his satchel and feeding it to a now calm Balius. 
You glance to the unhitched horses, seeing your buckskin grazing with the other gang member's horses. He's a small thing, not much muscle on him and Colter certainly didn't help that fact. He's a good horse, but not what you need. You need something strong and quick, something younger. 
"I'll join you, Hosea. I've been meaning to get a new ride for a while." 
"I might as well go too, get him checked out by a stable hand. He's gonna need a different saddle. Boadicea's is still down in Blackwater and the saddle on the walker is a piece a' shit." Arthur pipes in. Hosea places a hand on each of your backs as he smiles, leading you towards the unhitched horses. 
"I'm not sticking around, I'm afraid. Once I get this horse I'll be heading back up to ambarino for a hunt. I hear that there's a beast of a bear up there." 
Arthur stops, hands on his belt as he raises an eyebrow. 
"You want help with it? Y'aint so young no more, Hosea." Arthur asks, not wanting to overstep, but worried about Hosea's cough and age. Taking on a bear is hard for someone your age, let alone Hosea's. Hosea hesitates.
"Star's daddy was a gunsmith. Sure she knows her way around what we need and I can track better than you, let us go, as long as the lady wants to." Arthur adds, looking over to you quickly. 
"Alright, suppose some company would do me some good up in the mountains." Hosea nods, glancing behind him at the horses. 
"I reckon me and Arthur get these horses saddled up. I'll have Charles take the rest of your shift. Dear Star, why don't you go pack a bag, we may be away a few nights. Oh and check in with Dutch, he was asking for you. Tell him we're heading out for a day or two." Hosea orders around, and you nod, anxiety pooling in your gut.
"Dutch was askin for you?" Arthur asks, shooting a look at you and then Hosea. You nod, biting your lip.
"Yeah, said he wants to get to know me on a more personal level… Whatever that means." You mumble, and Arthur's face is drawn up in distaste. Without another word, you head towards your tent. 
You wave at Jack on the way, noticing that Abigail and John are fighting again. You feel bad for the boy, caught up in this life. You ignore the hungry cries of the O'driscoll, tied to a tree on the other side of camp. Dutch is a fool for bringing him here. With a sigh, you part the canvas to your tent, drawing the flaps closed behind you. A little wooden box rests on your bedside table, a gift from Tilly after you'd done her a favor. You pick up the wooden box, hand resting in the lid, and yet you hesitate to open it. You know it's not gonna be good, maybe enough change for some canned goods, but not a horse, which you need.
Frustrated, you slam the box down harder than necessary. Your hand grabs an old saddle bag from under your cot, and you move to your wardrobe. 
You don’t have a tent kit, but you do have a bedroll, so you grab it and stuff it into the bag alongside a few pairs of jeans and some underthings. Damningly, you forget to grab your coat, leaving it stuffed in the bottom of your wardrobe. 
Once your bag is packed you can no longer ignore the wooden box that is haunting you. You sit down on your bed, picking it up and holding it in your lap. You pull the lid off, looking down to a measly five dollar bill. It's not chump change, but it won't help you with a horse. It's the last of the money you have from stealing in Tumbleweed. You hope that with the gang you'll never have to live like that again. You were barely making it, never knowing where you were gonna get a meal or sleep. Anytime you needed to purchase something you had to steal. And now here you are, thinking about how in the hell you're going to steal a horse. 
You pluck the bill from the box, fold it over and stick it into your satchel. 
"Can I come in?" A voice says from outside your tent. It's Arthur, and instinctually you smile.
"Sure c'mon." 
Arthur steps through the flap, coming over to your bed. You scooch over and he sits down beside you on your cot. 
"What's the matter?" Arthur asks, taking his hat off and placing it on the cot. You sigh, closing the box and putting it back on your table. 
"I still feel like I'm just runnin." You whisper, noting the double meaning of your words. 
"From what?" Arthur asks, no judgment in his eyes. 
"Everything," You huff, "Myself mostly. My past, my feelings. Just robbing and killing and lying to survive. I'm stuck back in Tumbleweed, Arthur. I have no money, I have nothin' to my name. I need a damn horse before this one up and dies on me but I can't even afford the cheapest one. I'm gonna have to steal a damn horse." You sigh, running your hands through your hair, plucking out the violet and twirling it between your fingers. Arthur rests his hand on your knee, and you look up to his ocean eyes. 
"Star, you got the whole gang now, okay? You don't gotta watch your back now, cause we all got it." You nod, knowing he's right and feeling better for it.
"I'll help ya get a horse, c'mon." Arthur says, patting your knee for good measure before standing up and placing his hat back on. 
"I'm not lettin you buy me a horse." You bite.
"Marybeth caught word of a train job. You come rob with us, n' get your cut, you can pay me back." Arthur says. You know he would never actually ask you to pay him back, he's only offering this to make you feel better.
Arthur extends his hand out to you, and once you take it, he pulls you up to your feet. He grabs your packed bag from the cot, slinging it over his shoulder.
"Alright, go check in with Dutch, I'll get your horse loaded."
Arthur holds the tent flap open for you, and once you exit he files out behind you. You go your separate ways then. Dutch's large tent seems to rise over the others, intimidating you. But you strengthen your resolve, walking towards it with purpose. 
Just as you reach to pull the canvas aside, Molly  pushes through the flap, knocking into you and pushing you to the side.
"I'm not blind, Dutch! I know what you're doing! You won't even TOUCH me anymore because you’re thinkin about her!" Molly yells, and her voice pierces the ears of everyone in camp. She points her finger at him, seething with rage before grunting loudly. 
"You're delusional. Again." Dutch says, rolling his eyes, frustrated. 
Molly flips him the bird before stomping off. Dutch only watches her go with distaste. 
"Sorry, I didn't intend to interru-" 
"Nonsense. I'm sorry. Miss O'shea has been… difficult as of late." Dutch says, clicking his tongue against the room of his mouth. He comes beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder and leading you into his tent. 
"Would I be correct in assuming that you've been avoiding me?" Dutch asks, groaning as he rests down into his chair. Everything about the man is dominating. His stature, his stance, his words. He demands respect, and those who don't give it to him receive a bullet. Naturally, with you being you, you test his boundaries. Arthur trusts Dutch, but he gives you an odd feeling.
"Why would I avoid you?" You chuckle, watching as some of the charisma bleeds from his eyes. He gets off on being frightening, and you've just insulted his resolve.
"Hmm." Dutch squints at you, unsure if you're just ignorant or if you're intentionally pushing his buttons. He grabs a cigar from the pack on his desk, placing it between his lips.
"I only came by to tell you that Hosea, Arthur and I will be off on a job hunting for a few days. They asked me to let you know."  
Dutch nods, holding a match to the candle on his table until it lights before bringing the lit match to his cigar. He makes you wait, lighting the cigar, slowly inhaling and then releasing the breath of air. 
"Okay… I hope you haven't forgotten about our little chat. I've got plans for you. As soon as you return, come see me. We've got a lot to talk about." 
You dip your head in understanding, and turn to exit. 
"And miss?" Dutch calls after you, and you stop, turning on your heels. 
"Hmm?" 
"Do be careful on that hunt. Be a real shame if somethin' scratched up that pretty little face." Dutch says, and your stomach rolls as you exit. 
You try to quell your anger, try to be the bigger person. Dutch is the one person who you cannot piss off. Your tongue gets you in trouble often but you won't let it leave you without a home. You move through camp, Dutch's remark playing through your head. The boys are waiting for you at the hitching posts, and they see your rage from a mile away. 
"Miss Star, what is it?" Hosea asks, checking his girth to make sure it's tight before climbing onto Arthur's horse.
"It's that prick." You snap, finger directed at Dutch's tent. 
"What's the fool gone and done now?" Hosea asks, grabbing the reins and adjusting in the saddle. 
"Dutch? He botherin you?" Arthur asks, glancing between you and Hosea. 
"Oh I can handle it just fine. Miss O'shea don't seem to be handlin' it so well though. Bastard makes her cry and then two seconds later starts tryin' to flirt with me." You growl, climbing into your saddle. You follow Hosea, cantering out of the Overlook. 
"He tried to flirt with you?" Arthur growls. 
"This isn't new for Dutch. He finds something shiny, new, and he wants it. Happened with him and Marybeth too, but I shut that down quick." Hosea yells back. 
"He knows better. I'll have a word with him when we get back." Arthur hisses, disappointed. 
"No. I've got it." You respond. 
"Don't mind him, hard as it may be. Lately he's been nothing but greedy when it comes to women. He's downright disrespectful, demeaning… Annabelle would be ashamed." Hosea shakes his head.
"Annabelle?" You ask, never having heard the name before. You turn in your saddle to look at Arthur. 
"She was Dutch's fiancé. Got killed by Colm O'driscoll." Arthur mutters, an old pain resurfacing. 
"She was a sweet girl. She was good for him, too, and kept him in line. Along with young Arthur over here. He and John were a pair of fools when they were kids. She was always badgerin' them." Hosea chuckles at the memory. 
"Nah, that was mostly Bessie. John used to steal my damn cigarettes all the time. Course that was my fault. God knows little Johnny Marston couldn't do no wrong." Arthur chastises.
"Oh be quiet, Arthur. We all knew you were sneakin them to him. Along with the booze." 
Your eyebrows are pulled together in confusion as the two bicker, and you laugh. 
"Yeah well gettin' the kid drunk was the only way to shut him up." Arthur explains. 
"Wait-" You laugh, "You all knew each other when you were kids?" You ask, trying to piece together the timeline, picturing them all younger.
"We brought Arthur in when he was only a boy, about fifteen if my memory hasn't lost me. Our first stray, our unruly son. For a long while it was just me, Dutch and Arthur. But then I found Bessie and Dutch, his Annabelle, and then eventually we took in John." Hosea explains, trotting over the railroad tracks into the auction yard. 
You can't help but chuckle, the thought of their younger years is a sweet idea. They really are a family, you can see that now 
"How did you end up with them? How did you end up doin' this?" You ask Arthur and then Hosea, spurring your horse.
"I was just a kid, livin' on the streets for a long while, stealin' to get by. The city weren't kind to me. After a few years I decided to get away, take my chances out in the woods. I needed a horse to get away from the city." Arthur explains as you slow your horses, riding towards the livery. Hosea chuckles, and you can't help but smile, wondering where this might be going. 
"So one day I'm sittin' on the sidewalk beggin' for spare change. See these two horses hitched outside the gunsmith, real fine horses. Saw a white one, knew it'd be quick and strong, just what I needed." 
You chuckle, knowing exactly where this is going.
"Get up close to it, no one's lookin' so I throw myself up into the saddle." 
Hosea is smiling brilliantly at the memory, as if he's back in the same setting. 
"That horse threw me faster than you could blink an eye. I'm layin' there on the street like a fool, feelin' sorry for myself when suddenly these angry lookin' outlaws peek over me, lookin' down at me in the mud." 
"And that was where we found him." Hosea laughs. 
You make a note to ask why Arthur was alone at such a young age. Your heart breaks at the idea of him, just a kid, begging for money in the streets. You've heard amongst the laughter of the gang that The Count won't take anyone but Dutch, and Arthur appears to have been the first to test that theory. You trot past the butcher's, making your way towards the stables. Once again, you pass the peculiar one armed man posing as a veteran. You nod to him lightly as you pass, and he smiles in return. 
"We can fill you in on old stories during our trek up the hills. There's a lot of goodones, especially about Arthur here." Hosea chimes, dismounting from Arthur's walker in front of the livery. 
"Great." Arthur says, sarcastically elongating the word.
You slide down from the buckskin, forgoing your eyebrows as you hear commotion on the other side of the closed stable doors. A horse shrieks, whinnying with fear as thumps sound out against the door. 
"Just grab her halter!" A man yells, and the stable doors shake from an apparently hard kick to them.
"I can't! She won't settle, goddamnit she's goin' through!" Another man screams, and suddenly the door cracks and is pushed open. 
A beautiful Palomino mare pushes through the door, terrified and angry. You jump back out of the way with a gasp, almost getting trampled by her. 
"Star, get back!" Arthur yells as the horse rears up, crying out with an ear piercing whinny. 
"I got her!" One of the stable boys yells, swinging a lariat over his head. He releases a coil as the rope flies through the air, landing around the mare's neck. 
The rope only seems to terrify her more, and she drags the poor stable hand who's heels drag in the dirt, trying to pull her in by force. 
You know that there's no way he could possibly force this horse to do anything. She's tall, lean and strong. Her piercing blue eyes are a symbol of her ancestors' spirit. She's a force to be reckoned with, an open flame, you can tell from just a glance. 
"Stop! Stop- you're scarin' her!" You call to the boy with the rope, handing your buckskin's reins to Hosea. You walk towards the spooked mare as she rears, hands placed up to placate her. 
"Be careful, miss, please. She's dangerous. Wasn't taken care of properly by her last owner n' now she don't trust men. Maybe she'll take to you." The man calls. 
You look to her sides, to the scarred over wounds on either side of her stomach where spurs have dug in harshly, and to the sores on her mouth from where a torturous bit has been yanked far too often. 
"Oh you poor girl." You coo, taking a step towards her. 
Arthur shifts behind you, wanting to just grab you and pull you backwards. But he knows by now not to question you. You can handle your own. Still, it doesn't help his anxiety as he glances at Hosea. 
The horse is locked onto you. She has stopped rearing, but she snorts and huffs, prancing and snorting nervously. 
"Drop the rope." You order the boy, but he hesitates, stuttering. 
"I- I can't, I shouldn't. She'll run off again, and my boss-" 
"The lady wasn't askin', now drop the damn rope." Arthur orders from behind you, and your lips crack into a small smile, grateful that he has your back, that he trusts your sometimes insane decisions. 
The kid obliges, immediately dropping it to the ground. Your fingers are crossed, and much to your relief, the mare stays put. 
Her crystal blue eyes are locked onto you, separated only by the thick, long white forelock that covers part of her face. Her golden coat is broken up by a thick white blaze, and she has four tall white stockings. 
"Easy there girl, I'm not gonna hurt ya." You whisper, inching towards her. She stomps her right hoof, ears pinned back. You stand still, waiting for them to pop back up before you continue. 
She has a presence about her, something deeply human about those eyes. There's a sense of understanding in them, a clarity that you find only in the rarest of beasts. 
"She's got that affinity for animals too, huh?" Hosea whispers to Arthur, looking between you and him. 
Hosea notices that Arthur doesn't turn his head, doesn't acknowledge the older man because his eyes are locked onto your back, watching as you approach the mare. Arthur is looking after you with a small smile, a glint in his eyes that Hosea hasn't seen in so long. He doesn't remember the last time he's seen Arthur with so much… life in his eyes.
"She's incredible ain't she?" Arthur whispers back, eyes glued onto you as he speaks. Hosea brings his hand up to Arthur's shoulder, offering it a light squeeze. 
"She sure is, son." 
Oblivious to their conversation, you shush to the horse, calming her down some. No one moves save for you, not wanting to interrupt this moment, lest the mare run off again.
"That's a good girl, see I'm friendly I swear it." You whisper, smiling as the horse stands steady on her feet, ears coming forward curiously towards you. Holding your breath, your fingertips reach out, inches away from her pale nose. She snorts, sniffing at you, gauging your intentions. 
At the same time, you move towards each other, and your fingers brush against her soft coat. At first the mare hesitates, but after a second she leans into your touch. You laugh, petting under her forelock. When you turn around to show Arthur what you've done, you find him sweetly looking over you, eyes bright, proud. 
You gently reach and grab the rope from her neck, using it to lead her back towards the stables.
"I ain't never seen nothing like it miss! She just- she just calmed right down for ya!" The stableboy says excitedly as you lead the mare back inside, followed by Hosea and Arthur with the other horses.
Hosea and Arthut deal with their horses, selling, buying and stabling while you chat with the stable hand. 
"Can I help you with anything? Seein as you helped me out." The young worker asks you as the older one helps Hosea pick out a ride. 
You hold the mare's rope in your hand, scanning down over the other stalls. There's a dappled standardbred, a silver turkoman, a roan nokota, a morgan… nothing that catches your eye. 
You turn back towards the mare at your side, then to the stable boy. 
"I want her." You say, no chance of compromise in your voice. The stablehand looks at you oddly.
"You- you want her? Miss I don't think that's such a good idea, she ain't right in the head!" He explains, but you've found your resolve, and you are going home with this mare, one way or another.
"You turnin' down a customer?" You bite, raising an eyebrow at the boy and purposely drawing his attention to his boss. Surely the owner won't appreciate his hand turning away a paying customer. 
"No! No of course not, ma'am!" 
"That's what I thought. She have papers?" You ask him, and he turns around with a sigh. 
“Yeah she got papers.”
You nod, satisfied with the response.
“She’ll be nine hundred n’ fifty, miss.” The boy says, handing you your papers and your gut sinks. $950?  Quickly coming up with an idea, you smooth your face over with a small smile. 
“I'll take her for fifty.”
The boy laughs, snorting at your attempt at a bargain. 
“We already lost enough money on this horse. You can have her for nine hundred.” 
You squint, eyeing the man up and down. 
“Seventy five.” You bite. 
“I'm sorry lady, that just ain’t happenin’. This is one of the nicest horses we’ve had, and I can’t just hand her to you for nothin.” He says, chuckling as if you’re crazy. 
“You sure about that? This horse nearly killed you.” You lean back on your heels, eyebrows raised, “You said she don’t like men, right? If I walk away now are you even gonna be able to lead her to a stall?”
The boy glances between the horse and you, and the mare pins her ears at him, biting out as if she wants to rip him apart. He sighs loudly, running a hand over his face before looking back to you.
“Four hundred.” He offers you, and you squint, releasing a little of the mare’s lead so her bites and kicks towards the man land a little closer to his face. 
“Two hundred.” You bite, and the man rolls his eyes. 
“Listen, lady, my pa will kill me-” He starts but you interrupt him. Hosea and Arthur have already checked out and boarded their horses, and they watch you with amused chuckles. 
“You’re startin’ to piss me off mister! Would you rather your pa kill you, or this horse? Cause the more you continue to irritate me, the looser this rope gets, and, the lower my offers get. Now, let's try that again. I’ll take her for one hundred.” You bite, leaving go of some more rope and the man has to back up to avoid the mare’s pinned ears and kicks.
“Jesus! Fine, a hundred works. Just, get her away from me.” The boy yells, and you pull her rope back in towards you, calming her down with a very satisfied smirk on your lips. 
Arthur pays the man the hundred dollars, and you switch saddles from your buckskin before stabling the horse. Arthur picks out some carrots for everyone’s new horse’s and before long the three of you are walking out satisfied, with three new rides. You stop outside of the stables as everyone mounts up. Hosea had purchased the turkoman, and now he swings a leg over it with a very satisfied grin. 
“So we all got new rides, eh?” Hosea chuckles, waiting for you and Arthur to mount up.
“It seems so.” Arthur chuckles, watching as you comfort your palomino before getting up into the saddle. She feels nice to ride, got solid feet, and she doesn’t buck or fret. You pat her neck once you’re in the saddle, and then signal to the boys that you’re ready to head out.
“This one should do me good. Got nice bloodlines, a good age.” Hosea says, waiting for Arthur to mount up. 
“What about her? You pick out a name yet?” Arthur asks, pointing lightly towards your horse for a moment. You frown slightly. 
“No. I ain't much good with pickin’ names out truthfully, maybe somethin’ will come to me eventually.” You mumble
“Awe, well ya gotta pick somethin’ out. Horse as fine as that needs a proper name… She’s a spitfire for sure. You gotta find a name that fits her spirit too.” Arthur explains, placing a foot into the saddle and swinging a leg over. You hum, thinking. 
“Well what would you name her, Arthur?” Hosea asks, turning his horse around to butt in a little. 
“Oh, I don’t know, I was just thinkin-”
“C’mon, what would you pick? Tell me.”You interrupt his ramblings and Arthur looks down at his saddle horn. 
“I guess I’d call her Athena. War, wisdom, beauty, sure seems to fit her description.” Arthur says, looking the mare over. Hosea smiles a bit, as do you because you can’t believe he’s hidden this apparent interest in mythology from you. First Balius, now Athena? He’s so complex, you smile.
“Athena” You test out the name, liking the way it rolls off your tongue, and even the mare’s ears prick up when you say it. 
“Athena it is…” You whisper, smiling as you lean to pet the mare's neck. Arthur chuckles, watching the two of you. 
“We best be on our way then, by the time we get up there it’ll be good huntin’ hours.” Hosea calls out, trotting up the road. You and Arthur follow after him, making a triangle formation up the main road. You all pass the building that's half built, and you notice they’ve made some more progress, as wooden beams stick up, framing the roof. There's a ‘coming soon!’ sign plastered out front. 
“Say what are they building there, anyway?” You ask, watching as the workers carry cut beams and tools. 
“A blacksmith I hear, some real peculiar feller. They say he's real… imaginative. Sounds to me like he’d be better off in a city, but he liked the ‘quaintness’ of Valentine.” Hosea pipes up from ahead. 
“He’s… imaginative?” You ask, unsure of the creative limits to Blacksmithing of all things.
“They say he makes decorations, jewelry, all kinds of peculiar trinkets and the like. Alongside regular stuff, of course. He makes tools, and the odd bits are more of a side gig.” Hosea explains, trotting around the bend past the sheriff’s office. 
“Strange…” You mumble, glancing back at the building one last time before it disappears behind the sheriff's office. 
“Where exactly we headin’?” Arthur asks, spurring Balius into a canter now that you’re all out of town. 
“A little stead, called O'Creagh’s run. Beautiful hunting up there, but it’s a bit far.”
“Let’s ride, then.” Arthur responds, and you all push your horses into a gallop. You use vocal cues, not wanting to touch Athena’s sides with your spurs. She responds well, and within no time you’re all galloping back up north. 
— — — — 
A few long hours later you finally arrive. O’Creagh’s run is a beautiful little place, with wildflowers, grassy hills and a glass-clear pond with massive fish swimming through it. As you ride past, you see a man in a boat, fishing over the waters. 
“Just a bit further, we can leave the horses up ahead off the road.” Hosea says, veering from the road and trotting up a small hill. Big boulders stick out of the ground in places, and you maneuver Athena around them. 
Hosea leads you to a little opening, and he slides down from his horse. 
“Why don’t you grab that gun? And whatever bullets you see fit. We’ll let dear Arthur here shoot the bastard.” Hosea chuckles, pulling out a map and looking it over for a few moments before nodding. 
“Alright this is the place to start lookin.” Hosea says as you pull the springfield rifle from your saddle, loading it with express bullets.
“And what exactly are we lookin’ for?” You ask, never having hunted before. 
“Bear shit, tracks, fur, blood, anythin’ really.” Arthur answers, patting Balius before coming towards you.
You nod, falling into step with Arthur as you both follow Hosea. The three of you walk around for a long while, scanning the ground, slowly inching around. You see nothing but rocks, grass, leaves, and sticks. Arthur has noticed that you sigh loudly every few minutes, kicking a rock or a stick out of your way as you grumpily walk around in search of anything.
“Arthur, this is boring as hell.” You whisper out of earshot from Hosea. Arthur chuckles lightly, rubbing at his stubble.
“You won’t be sayin’ that when there's a half ton beast comin’ at you.”
“If we ever find it that is.” You huff, crossing your arms as you follow the men. After a few minutes, Hosea stops, waving you both to come over. 
“Bear dung here, fresh.” Hosea explains, looking over the pile. 
“Never thought I’d be glad to hear it…” You mumble under your breath. 
“How close you think, Arthur?” Hosea asks, looking up to the younger man. 
“I reckon he ain’t far. See a few tracks here,” Arthur points in the direction of the disturbed trail. “They disappear up here, it splits off into two trails.” 
You look at the two trails. One wraps around the side of the hill, and the other continues through a valley. You’re tired of standing around, walking slow  and looking at bear shit, so you nod, walking through the valley. 
“Where you goin?” Arthur asks, gesturing to you with furrowed brows. You turn around, slowly walking backwards to yell at him. 
“Goin’ to find this thing!” You holler back, and Arthur sighs, telling Hosea to go with you while he searches the other trail. 
You wait for Hosea to catch up to you, chuckling as Arthur stomps up the hill in the other direction. 
“I don't mean to question your thought process, but what's your plan if we do come across this bear?” Hosea asks as you pull your rifle around into your hands. 
“Well I guess I’ll shoot it. N’ if that don’t work, you go get Arthur, or we run, I don’t know.” You admit, shrugging your shoulders lightly, “Wasn’t this your idea?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 
“Yeah but now that we’re actually here, I’m wondering if this was a bad idea.” Hosea huffs, and you crack a smile. 
You walk the trail for a while, not really seeing much for about ten minutes. Just as you're about to turn around you see something on the grass up ahead. You jog up to it, crouching to the ground. 
"Hosea, I found a fish! He's eaten most of it, he can't be far now." You chime, looking at the fresh blood and teeth marks. 
"Uh, Star?" Hosea calls your attention, barely over a whisper. Slowly, you turn around. 
Hosea is standing facing away from you, frozen in a statue-like stance. About forty feet down the trail stands the largest bear you've ever seen in your life. Its face is scarred, an eye is missing. On all fours this bear is as tall as you, and your breath hitches in your throat. 
"Don't move." Hosea whispers, as the bear inches forward. You can't help it, fear taking over as you stand up from your crouch. 
You take a step backwards, and your boot squishes right down onto the fish. The slip surprises you. Instinctually, you gasp, pulling your foot back away quickly with a yelp. 
The bear's ears prick forward at your noise and motion, and he roars, spit flying from his mouth as he charges. 
"Oh SHIT!" You scream as the bear charges straight forward. Quickly, you pull your rifle around and fire. You hit the bear in the leg, and then in the shoulder, and you curse your shaking hands. The bear charges for Hosea, but as you continue trying to shoot it, it switches direction, coming straight for you. You gasp, pumping bullets into it, missing some, hitting random areas and grazing it in others. It will not go down.
You cry out as the bear gets closer, firing once again before it runs into you, a paw against your chest as it knocks you to the ground. Your rifle is knocked away from your hands, and lies uselessly far away in the dirt. Your heart pumps rapidly as the bear roars in your face, ready to tear you to pieces. 
You quickly reach down, unsheathing your knife as the bear's claws against your chest push down painstakingly. Your ribs ache from the impact of hitting the ground so hard, but you can do nothing about it as you plunge your knife into the bear's chest. It yelps, snarling and growling as you pull the knife out, sinking it back in until the bear falls to the ground at your side with a yelp. 
You pant, chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay on the ground. Your eyes slip closed as you drop the knife to the ground. 
"Am I dead?" You whisper, peaking an eye open, relieved to see the setting sun. 
"Oh my God, Star, are you alright?" Hosea calls out from his position backed against a tree on the ground. You ask yourself the same question, noticing that it hurts when you breathe, your ribs ache and there are some scratches against your collarbone where the bear had dug his claws in, but other than that you're okay. 
"Think so." You hum, just as Arthur approaches, sprinting down the grassy patch. 
"What in the hell happened?" Arthur yells, glancing between you and Hosea and the bear, dead at your side. 
"We found the bear." You whisper, placing a hand over your ribcage and hissing. 
"The bear found us." Hosea corrects, standing up from the ground with a sigh. 
"I'm sorry dear girl. I wouldn't have brought you up here if I would have known." Hosea says, feeling guilty. 
Arthur comes over to the grass where you are lying, and he sits down beside you. 
"You alright?" He asks, seeing where a deep patch of blood soaks through your shirt. It's not yours, but he's sure you're hurting somewhere. 
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just let me lay here for a minute n' feel sorry for myself." You whisper, breath coming down from its heightened pace as you slip your eyes closed. 
"I'm afraid my age seemed to have slipped me. I ain't as young as I used to be and it shows. I'm shaken up beyond repair, think I'll return to camp to lick my wounds." Hosea chuckles, "You folks comin' with?" He asks. 
Arthur glances down at you, noticing the way you cling to your ribs. You shouldn't be riding, it's probably best that you rest for the night.
"We'll set up camp here, be back in the mornin'. She should just rest for now." Arthur responds, and you're relieved for it. A few hours' ride home does not sound fun, and besides, you packed a bag in case. 
"Okay." Hosea smiles, "I'll see you kids then, be safe." 
Then Hosea directs his attention to Arthur. 
"Take care of her, son." 
With that, Hosea leaves, whistling for his new horse and trotting off into the night with it. Once he's out of the trees, Arthur looks to you. 
"C'mon, I'll set us up a camp. Looks like that storms finally comin' in." 
You think back to what Charles had said about the rain, and peek up to the evening sky, colored with black clouds. 
Arthur pulls you to your feet and you groan, before he whistles for the horses. 
"I'll get you settled then get that bear." Arthur hums and you nod. 
Arthur starts a little fire a ways away, getting it set up with his percolator and an iron cooker. Once it's set up nicely, he goes back to skin the bear. You grab your bag from Athena, rolling out your little bedroll on the grass before sitting down on it criss-crossed. The night is cold, and you dig through your bag searching for your coat. 
You groan, realizing that you must have forgotten it at home. Rain starts to drip down quietly, just a sprinkle, but it's enough to chill you to the bones as you bring your knees up to your chin. 
"Why ain't you got a coat on? You're shiverin'." Arthur points out, walking back toward you with a pelt and a bundle of bagged meat in his hands. His eyebrows are drawn together as he comes forward.
"I forgot it." 
Arthur chuckles, setting his things on the ground beside the fire before going towards Balius.
"Course ya did." He chuckles pulling something from his saddlebag before coming up behind you. You crane your neck up to look at him as he drapes a coat over your shoulders. It's tan with a warm wool interior, it's warm, and you wrap it around your body as tight as you can, shivering. 
The coat is so big on you, it swallows you up, and you relish in the warmth. But the most intriguing aspect of it is the scent. The coat smells just like Arthur, like gunsmoke and tobacco and something else so indescribably him that you dig your frozen nose into the fabric. 
"Don't you got a tent…?" Arthur asks kindly, worried over you. He places a few cuts of bear meat over the cooker on the fire, eying you as he does. 
"Hm hm" You mumble, shaking your head no. 
"Why didn't you say somethin'? Here let me put mine up, you can sleep in there for the night." Arthur says, checking to make sure the bear meat won't burn before he starts gathering the materials to build your tent. 
"Why don't you change into a fresh pair of clothes. Your shirts covered in blood, that can't be helpin' your chill. N' you can check for any cuts that need bandaged up." Arthur suggests, down on one knee across the fire, stabbing the beam supports into the wet soil. 
"I ain't just gonna strip down right here. Especially not with you right here." You point out. Arthur stands up, tying together the posts. 
"Get changed. You're freezin' to death n' you're worried about a gaze when we're in the middle of nowhere." Arthur chuckles, shaking his head at your stubbornness. You look down at your ruined clothes, blood spattered across your torso from stabbing the bear in the heart whilst he was right over you. 
"Fine but you better not peek." You say, standing up and walking over towards Athena.
"Star-" Arthur sighs, laughing, "I ain't gonna peek." 
"Good. Cause if you do peek I'll have to kill ya," You smile. "No man's ever laid eyes on me indecent before, and that sure as hell ain't changin' now." You mumble, not even thinking about your words. Arthur however, stiffens, hands stilling where they were pulling the canvas over his tent. His shoulders tighten and he swallows thickly. No man…? Ever…? 
He coughs, awkwardly. 
"Alright well, uh. Hurry up." He mumbles, putting all of his focus onto the tent and forcing himself not to turn around. 
You take his coat off, letting it fall to the grass. Arthur counts the pieces of clothing as they fall, flinching each time a new piece hits the ground. It seems to be forever until you're undressed, but eventually you stand naked in the night. You're facing away from eachother. And if he did turn around, he would be met with your exposed backside… but he won't. He's a gentleman and he's made a promise that he intends to keep. 
You stand bare facing Athena, digging through your saddlebag as a slight panic starts to creep up your neck. The rain has picked up, coating you in a cold, yet glistening wet. You dig through the bag, realizing that you hadn't brought a shirt. You were so worried about Dutch and money that you didn't bring the most basic of necessities. You shiver, covering your breasts with your hands. 
"Arthur…?" You ask, sounding so coy and small, it's foreign to your ears. 
"Everything okay? You decent?" Arthur asks, swallowing thickly.  
"No! No, I didn't… I didn't bring a shirt." You say, quietly. 
"Oh… Go ahead n' take one from my bag. It'll swallow you up, but be better than nothing." Arthur answers, finishing the tent as the rain picks up. He makes an obvious attempt not to look at you as he turns around, grabbing the meat from the fire and taking it into the tent. 
"Just come in here when you're ready." He hollers from inside. 
You go over to Balius, leaning up on your tiptoes to reach into the shire's bag. Your fingers brush against a soft cloth, and you pull out a neatly folded jade green shirt. It's long sleeved, it'll be warm and it smells like him. You smile, pulling it over your bare body. The shirt comes down to your mid thighs, and the top buttons are undone three holes down, leaving a little of your chest exposed, including three scratches from the bear along your collarbone. You frown at it, pulling his coat back on before reaching for your undergarments and sliding them up your legs. 
Your jeans are destroyed, muddied and caked in fur and blood. You don't bother to put them on, knowing they're garbage. Instead you opt to just wear the shirt. It covers you enough, and you prefer sleeping without pants anyways. 
You grab your saddlebag, running through the rain until you break through the tent flap, finally escaping the cold water.
"Jesus, cold huh?" Arthur laughs at the way you've barreled into the place. He has turned the whole floor into a bed, as there's not much room. The two bedrolls beside each other take up the whole floor. Arthur sits up, two plates in his hand, and he holds one out to you.
"Frozen." You whisper, sitting on your knees and wrapping Arthur's coat further around you before taking the plate from him. He's cooked up the bear, seasoning it with some oregano and thyme, and you smile for it. 
"Maybe if you were wearing pants, ya wouldn't be so cold." Arthur chuckles, forcing his eyes away from the glistening rain on your thighs. 
"Yeah well I don't want to." You bite, getting an idea, "Oh! Arthur, I brought rolls!" You chime, digging through your saddlebag until you find the little dinner rolls. You hand him one, and he lifts it up in a little toast. 
"Thanks, look, we're havin' a proper dinner." Arthur chuckles. 
"Yeah for once." 
You eat and chat, enjoying each other's company for a long while. The rain on the tent roof is comforting, and the thunder that usually frightens you doesn't seem so bad now that you're with him. After you've both had your fill, he puts the plates away. You're still shivering, and Arthur's too big shirt slips down over your shoulder. 
His eyes flicker to your exposed shoulder, and you go to pull the cloth back up but he knocks your hand away. 
"You didn't tell me he scratched you." Arthur mumbles, eyes flickering up to your own as you shrug your shoulder away from his touch, covering it again. 
"Just a scratch." You whisper, looking down to the sore wound. 
Arthur slides forward, chest towards yours, so close that your knees touch.
"Let me salve it." He whispers, and you look up to his crystal blue-green eyes. 
"It aint a big deal, Ar-"
"Please." He urges, eyes locked onto yours as you nod your head lightly. 
He reaches into his bag, pulling out the same little tin of poultice that he'd used on your thigh in Colter.
"I use this on you far too much. You oughta be more careful." Arthur whispers, and his breath floats down to your skin, warming you and causing a chill to run over you at the same time. 
He gently takes the collar of your shirt, well his shirt, and pulls it down to expose more of your chest and collarbone. You shiver, not from the cold, as he runs his finger alongside the scratch with feather-like lightness. 
"Steady." Arthur chuckles, a sound you're familiar with and he applies some salve to your cut. It's so intimate, another thing that's becoming familiar with Arthur, which terrifies you.
To calm your anxieties, you instinctually trace your fingers over the scar on your right thigh. Arthur notices, and he brushes your fingers away from your leg gently. 
"Still botherin' you?" He whispers against your skin. You shake your head, ignoring the way his fingers rest on your thigh. 
"N-no, just a habit I guess." You stutter, rendered speechless. Artgur focuses his attention back to your collarbone, neatly covering it with the poultice.
His lip quirks halfway up in a smile before he continues. 
"Didn't know if you was gonna make it down here after Colter. Thought that fever was gonna do you in." He mumbles, thinking about all that you’ve overcome. Your eyes are downcast, watching as his hand applies the salve to your scrapes. He finishes with your collarbone, and closes the tin up. 
“I didn’t know if any of us were makin’ it down from Colter.” You admit, watching as Arthur pulls the shirt back up over your shoulder. 
“I'm worried about Lenny,” Arthur sighs, “wherever he and Micah ended up. And I hope Sean is safe for now till we can get to him.” 
You nod, thinking about Sean stuck down in Blackwater. 
“Yeah, me too. Javiers’ down there with Josiah now. Charles should be heading down in a day or two to help him scope out the town.” You whisper, sighing before tying your hair up and lying down on your bedroll. Arthur hums, watching as you turn towards him on your side, curled up in a ball inside his coat. He chuckles, lying down on his own bedroll beside yours. He lies on his back, hands on his chest, thinking. You’re shivering still, even with his coat. Arthur takes his hat off, fully laying back while keeping an eye on you. He notices that your eyes are far away, your breathing slow and concentrated.
“Caught up in that head again. Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” Arthur asks, crossing his ankles as he intertwines his fingers over his stomach. You hum with a sad smile, drawn out of your stupor by his words.
“My parents… My past.” You admit, pressing one hand against the ground and propping your head up with the other. 
“After I shot that creditor I thought I’d never stop runnin from the law. There was so much blood on me, I thought I’d never wash it off.” You whisper, sighing and biting your lip to stop it from trembling. Arthur turns onto his side, mirroring you by propping his head up so you can talk face to face.
“I guess I haven’t yet. I still got blood on my hands.” You frown. Arthur nods, looking down at the space between the two of you. 
“Was he the only man you killed before joinin’ us?” Arthur asks, and your lip trembles. 
“No… After I left, I was nothing. Just a shell of a person, cared for nothin’, for no one. I was so damn angry. I killed bounty hunters, lawmen. I killed-” You choke on a sob, shoving it back, “I killed people that hurt me, n’ people who tried to hurt me.”
Arthur doesn’t speak, listening to your story. He wants to know how you’ve become so hurt, so afraid of feeling.
“God, my parents would be disappointed if they could see me now.” You chuckle, humorlessly. Arthur’s eyes slip shut with some pain, and he reaches out to brush a tear from your eye with his thumb. 
“Now Star, that ain’t true.” Arthur coos, heart breaking at your tears.
“Oh, it is. My daddy was anyway, when he was alive. You’d never come across a stricter man, in his later years anyway. Didn’t let me get away with or try nothin.” You huff, “Didn’t stop me from tryin’ though.” 
The wind howls outside, and you shove yourself tighter into your coat.
“Tell me about em.” Arthur asks, and you’re surprised by his curiosity, furrowing your brow, but continuing nonetheless. 
“They were in love, truest love you’d ever see.” You smile, and Arthur sees the sparkle in your eyes while recounting your childhood. “I was their only kid, their little miracle.” 
Arthur’s eyebrows pull together, and you rush to explain. 
“You see, the doctor said momma couldn’t have children n’ that's why she started callin’ me Star. She wished on em’ every night for a baby… Here I am.” You say, smiling sweetly and toying with the blanket of the bedroll. Arthur concludes that you’re right. You are a miracle. You had to have been made from some divine intervention, you're too perfect to be otherwise.
“She was feistier than me, even. I know where I got it from. N’ daddy was grounded, level headed and smart. They kept each other balanced. It was all near perfect… till momma got sick that is.” You mumble, looking up to Arthur. He’s smiling down at you, a warmth in his eyes that is piecing together the background of who you are. You blush, realizing that you’ve explained everything about yourself, and asked him nothing. 
“What about you?” You ask, “What was your childhood like?”
Immediately Arthur’s smile falters, and he lies back on his back, sighing. You’re afraid that you’ve overstepped, or upset him, but after a moment he opens up. 
“Nothin’ good.” He mumbles, a dark edge to his words. You leave yourself as an open ear, ready to offer him the same comfort that he’s provided you. You want to know about his parents, his life. Hell, you want to know everything about him, as long as he’s comfortable telling you. He has so many layers, so many contradictions.  You’re curious as to where they’ve all derived from.
“Momma died when I was just a kid, smallpox. After she passed it was just me and daddy. He was a cruel bastard, the type who enjoyed the pain he caused. See, I was more of his punchin’ bag than his kid. He made me steal for him, made me kill for him. I knew what would happen if I didn’t listen to him. Not that it mattered, nothin’ pleased him.” Arthur sighs, running his hand over his face. 
“Don’t talk about him much…” He whispers, afraid by how much he’s just opened up to you, afraid you’ll push him away. 
“Arthur, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, hand resting on his forearm. You want to say more  but what else can you say?
“Daddy was never kind, never good. He hurt my momma too, even when she was sick. My momma was good. She deserved so much better than that piece of shit. I wanted to protect her so badly. Was just a kid, n’ I wanted to kill him, Star. I saw what he did to her and…” Arthur’s fist clenches involuntarily, “I wanted to kill him.”
You’re at a loss for words, shocked and aching for the trauma he must have gone through. And just being a kid, he never felt sorry for himself. He just wanted to protect her. It speaks volumes about his personality, and you see pieces of that hurting little boy in Arthur today. 
“I ran away once, few months after she passed.” Arthur admits, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. 
“Just a boy, only eight or so. I didn’t get real far. He found me, made sure I never ran away again. He knocked some teeth out, just baby ones.” Arthur adds, as if that somehow makes it better, “even broke one of my goddamn ribs.”
“Arthur–” You interject, tears pooling in your eyes. He offers you a little smile, letting you know that he’s okay to continue. 
“I never ran away again, not till I saw him swing. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw me standin’ at the gallows, knowin’ I wasn’t gonna do anythin’ to stop it.” 
Tears slip down your cheeks, and you want to hug him, to hold him, to do anything to take this pain away from him. 
“I walked up to the gallows when it was over, picked his hat up from the mud. I wear it to remind myself who not to be… I know it's in me, I got his blood, his rage.” 
You glance to Arthur's hat on the ground, seeing the meaning behind it. For the first time since he’s started talking, Arthur looks at you. There are unshed tears in his eyes, ones that you wish you could wipe away. 
“How can you look at your wife, your boy, and wanna hurt them?” He asks, searching your eyes for some answer that you cannot provide. He inhales, forcing those tears back.
“He was a sick man,” Arthur growls, an anger coming over him, “I never would have hurt my son, Star. Not ever.” He hisses, and you sit up on your bedroll, eyebrows pulled together. 
“...Your son?” You ask, and Arthur curses, head in his hands.
You cross your legs, looking to him with no judgment, only worry. 
“Yeah, I had a boy… Isaac was his name.” Arthur starts, eyes slipping shut. He wants to tell you, wants to explain everything, but it's too much.
“Can we-” Arthur sighs, looking up to you with so much pain in his eyes that your heart shatters. 
“Can we just lay here for a bit? I wanna tell you everything, I do, but it's a lot, all at-” Arthur rambles, voice quiet. He stops when your hand finds its place on top of his own. 
“It’s alright, Arthur.” You say, sincerely. And you take his hands, pulling him up to a sitting position. To his surprise, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his head to rest on your good shoulder in a hug. 
“S’okay.” You whisper against his hair as Arthur snakes his hands around your waist. 
“I'm so sorry, Arthur. You didn’t deserve any of that pain.” You reassure him, but he brushes it off. 
“I was alright. All over now-” 
“Don’t. Don’t downplay your pain, it doesn’t work. I should know.” You whisper. 
You both stay like that for a while, neither onr of you wanting to pull away. Arthur is feeling more vulnerable than ever, but he trusts you more than anyone. He knows you’ll keep this between the two of you. 
"You're nothin' like him, Arthur. Nothing." You whisper, and Arthut nods, finally hearing the words that he's needed to hear for so long. 
After a few more minutes, Arthur pulls away, resting down on the bedrolls and patting the space beside him. He's just a little closer to your side than he was before. He wants to thank you, to explain that you've helped him in so many ways, saved his soul time and again, broken down the walls around his heart, but he's not sure how. 
You smile as you lie down next to him, soothed by the rain. Your hands are in between each other, resting on the blankets. After a while your heart beats faster, feeling his fingers brush against your own. Slowly, as if testing the waters, his hand moves closer to yours, until you both mutually intertwine your fingers. You smile as he runs this thumb over your knuckles. You’re the first to fall asleep, but even then, Arthur doesn’t pull away. The two of you are wholly comforted by each other's presence, just not quite sure how to show it.
— — — — 
The next day, you arrive back at camp feeling better. There's a weight off of your shoulders, having cracked away another one of your layers before Arthur. He feels relieved and more afraid all the same. He had told you more in one night than he’s told anyone. Even Hosea. Still, he doesn’t regret it. He’s glad to know that some of the dark conversation is over, and he can breathe a little easier now that it’s no longer weighing on him. As you dismount, hitching Athena, Arthur moves past you, tapping your arm with a little nod. You smile, just taking the mare’s saddle off as a loud voice calls to you from the otherside of camp. 
“You’re back!” Dutch hollers, arms outstretched as wide as the smile on his face. You turn to him, still wearing Arthur’s shirt alongside your old jeans. Dutch doesn’t miss this, and his eyes glance from you to Arthur in his tent, wondering exactly what you and Arthur got up to on your getaway. 
“I am.” You say with a sigh. 
“Good, now come with me.” Dutch says, and you know there's no room for argument as he leads you through camp to his oversized, white tent.
“What's this about Dutch?” You ask, irritated, as he holds the canvas up for you to walk under his arm into his tent. He enters after you, sitting down in his chair, propping a leg up on a wooden crate. 
“Everyone seems to be saying good things about you…” Dutch hums, looking over your body, sizing you up, to see where he can best play you like a damn chest piece. 
“That’s… good?” You somewhat ask, completely unsure of where he’s going with this. He leans back, the front feet of his chair tipping up into the air as he squints at you. 
“Why haven't you been on a job yet? A real one?” He asks, and you scoff. 
“I was on a job, with Arthur and Hosea, but you kinda threw a hitch in that plan when you blew up a goddamn boat.” You bite, harsher than expected. His tongue darts out over his lips, dark eyes scanning you over. 
“Marybeth got word of a train, sneaking through Lemoyne in the dead of the night- filled with rich passengers. It’ll be cruisin through virtually unprotected.” Dutch emphasizes the last word, a dangerous glint of power in his eyes as they flick up to you. He seems to have pieced together where he wants you, he's found a play for you to work for him.
“I want you there.” He says, pointing at you, at your brows pull together. 
“Alright…” 
“A lot of these boys- they’re good boys- they can shoot, and they can steal. But you? You’re a schemer, a player. I can see it in those eyes. You’re like me, like Hosea. We could use your head out there.” Dutch speaks as if his plan is coming together. 
“And I’ll get a cut?” You ask, making sure this isn’t charity work. 
“Of course.” Dutch responds. You nod, thinking it over. 
“Alright, whens it comin’ by?” You ask, and Dutch smiles at your eager attitude. 
“Few weeks. Talk with John and Arthur. Come up with a plan, do as you see fit.” He explains, and you nod, moving towards the exit. 
“Oh and miss?” Dutch calls after you, and you turn around. 
“Do make me proud. I'm not a man you want to cross.” Dutch warns, and you crack a smile, nodding at his attempt to frighten you. 
“Sure thing, Dutch.” You respond, and he sticks his tongue in his cheek, looking over you.
“That attitude. I would say it's not ladylike, but I've always been attracted to women with spitfire like yours.” Dutch says, voice almost as low as the glint in his eyes. You bite your tongue for a moment, adjusting your weight to your other foot, and cock your head.
“Molly know you’re sayin’ things like that, Dutch?" You hiss, and Dutch’s smile falters. His stare becomes menacing. 
“Molly and I are done-” He starts, and much to his growing rage, you interrupt him. 
“Yeah I can see why.” You snap at him. His face turns red with anger as he stands up, and the chair scrapes loudly from how quickly he gets out of it. He comes straight up to you, towering over you, but you don’t back up. 
“Excuse me? Do you know who you’re talking to?” Dutch growls, and you only smile sweetly, looking up to him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dutch. I thought you liked women with ‘spitfire’ like mine.” You hum, watching as he steps back, shocked and insulted. You chuckle, parting the canvas of the tent. 
Causing the gang leader to hate you is probably not a great idea, but you can’t help it. He needs to be humbled by someone. And it's funny. He sits on his high horse, in his castle-sized tent, ordering everyone around while reading, listening to music and smoking cigars. You laugh at the contradiction in his philosophy. He is exactly what he swears to destroy: an overseer, a power hungry fool. Satisfied with your little victory over Dutch, you settle in your tent, pulling out your journal. 
It's been a busy few days. Got a new horse, Arthur calls her Athena. She is something special, by god. Beautiful Palomino, eyes blue as the sky. Took her up with Arthur and Hosea to catch a bear, but it nearly caught me first. Arthur and I stayed up there the night, it was real special. We talked a lot. He said things I'm sure he's never said before, and so did I. It was nice, having someone to talk to. I worry for him. There's so much pain in his heart, so much ache, old and deep. I hope that one day he can move on from it all, start anew. I guess I wish the same thing for me too…
232 notes · View notes
pastelsprouts · 17 days
Text
Creepypasta/Marble Hornet Head cannons My friends and I have developed in the past 9 months
- Nina is the go to person for Piercings. Her two favorite people to practice on are Toby and Sully. Toby because he can't feel pain anyways and Sully because he likes making the body his when he fronts
- Nina also gets crushes super easily. She's pan and if anyone is just a little nice to her she very well could get a crush. They usually go away pretty quickly unless your Jeff, Toby, or Kate
- Ben's British
- Ej comes from a family of 5 with his parents and two younger siblings. He was a mommas boy when he was human.
- Liu would shoot Jeff with Dr. Pepper filled water guns.
- Brian is allergic to pineapple
- Liu is an insomniac
- Lazari has a swear jar for everyone, it's her college fund. Jeff and EJ are the ones who pay the most
- Nina is very annoyingly charming, she always worms her way into people's hearts.
- EJ was born in Australia on an army base. He has the slightest accent while his siblings don't.
- speaking of siblings, he has a brother named Travis and a sister named Victoria. Victoria is an FBI agent while Travis does freelance work
- Jeff's an ass hole but he actually does care about his boyfriend (friends oc Kris)
- Liu can sing quite well, especially considering he has no training.
- Lulu stays away from the mansion, she's more often than not terrified and attacks anything that could pose a threat.
- Ben is a trans man
- Liu is also a trans man
-Lazari and EJ have a father daughter relationship. They're very wholesome
- Sally is co-parented by Slender and EJ at this point
- Liu, Jane, and Nina are found family. Jane and Liu were a duo first a while but they found an abandoned Nina in the woods and took her under their wing as a sister
- Sully isn't a demon or anything evil. He's just an alter that holds all of the trauma making him angry and vengeful. Sully is ace/aro, a gender, and uses He/It pronouns.
- Sully hates men
-speaking of the system, Liu had already had a system long before all the Jeff stuff. Most if the alters have gone format after tho leaving only him and Sully
- Jeff is obsessed with one piece
- Liu is an awful driver
-Lazari can't bake to save her life, she enjoys it anyway. EJ encourages her and makes sure everyone eats what she makes, even if it probably isn't edible. He's a little shit once you get past the gentle giant part of his personality
- EJ has better eye sight than he did as a human. That being said he doesn't actually see, he 'sees' the way you do when you day dream... So he sees everything but nothing at the same time
- Natalie and Toby had an extremely healthy breakup. They're still really great friends.
- Nat is very gay, she loved women especially if they could kill her
- Lazari is really trying to play matchmaker with Liu and EJ. She has not figured out that as if December they're together
- EJ is very cat coded. Purs, hisses, sleeps all the time, and pushes shit of counters
19 notes · View notes