#real talkin to myself hours tonight sorry

[fooltofancy]

anyway i'm watching the sd house argue the birth certificate bill they miraculously managed not to pass last year and just witnessed a woman argue that allowing trans individuals to adjust the data on their birth certificates would mean the fundamental breakdown of law, order, and society as we know it and like. what fuckin universe do you live in, actually.

#some of these old dudes have the spirit #they're confused but they're getting there #it's hb1076 for anyone wondering #back at it again in the great state of south dakota #THE WORD OF GOD IS A LOVE LETTER TO THE WORLD is a phrase uttered in the sd house of reps today #lmao #real talkin to myself hours tonight sorry #txt #losing my fucking mind listening to these people

[weaver-z]

Birthmark

A short horror story by B.E.

The women in my family have port-wine birthmarks, but none ever had any as strange as mine. 

Not even my mother, who had one that stretched across her forehead like a bloodshot eye, the pale sclera-white of her skin visible under the glaze of reddish violet. She told me, when I was very young, that my grandmother had one, too, along the back of her head--she, unlike us, had been lucky enough to have one that could be hidden under a bonnet, though her blonde hair still revealed it in the summertime.

“Can I see the ones on the legs?” Thomas asks, chewing the inside of his cheek like a cow chewing its cud. I allow it, even though I am a girl, because Thomas and I are friends, alone in the center of a field of tall summer alfalfa. I can feel his eyes boring into the marks on me in fascination, as he moves around me to see my arms, at the marks on those.

“I like the winter best,” I say, pulling my skirt up. “Pa hates it. But I like it, because I can cover all of ‘em up with my clothes, even the ones on my arms.”

“They’re not so bad,” he says. “They’re not on your face, at least.

“Guess so.”

He sits in front of me in the clear space between the eden-green strands of the grass, looking down at the marks on my legs. They are strange, wobbling lines, not blotches or patches--the lowest two are at my knees, lines that wrap around the joint like the borders of a county. 

There are two more on my upper thighs, though I don’t show Thomas those--he’s still a boy, and even though he looks at my markings with nothing but fascination, I still feel a little kernel of shame rubbing at the walls of my chest. The arms are easier to show to him--there are only two marks, just too low to be covered by my short sleeves, broad and awkward unevenly-stamped lines.

“So you’ve got more? On your back?” Thomas asks, sitting on his haunches, looking at me with intent, dust-brown eyes too large for his face.

“Yes. Almost like a corset,” I say, “like a nice corset, the kind rich ladies wear with their jewels. One on my waist, like a belt. One below my shoulders. Oh, and a line down my back, a kinda wobbly one.”

“Like the laced-up part of the corset,” he says, and I nod, happy that he understands. Most boys who live in these parts wouldn’t. He moves around me, and I sit straight, lifting my long frigid-blonde braid so that he can see the very top of the line that travels down my spine, the source of the splotchy red-and-purple river. 

“You ever wish that you could have them wiped off?” He asks. “I heard that God sometimes grants big miracles if you pray for ‘em enough.”

“Maybe,” I say, doubtful. “I’ve tried it. Pa makes me pray each night, but nothing seems to work.”

“Shame about that. Real shame. Maybe God’s busy with somethin’ else--” he says, and suddenly a gunshot rings out in the distance.

He freezes, pupils dilating like a rabbit that hears a hawk, and I scramble for my boots, forcing them on over the crumbles of mud on my feet. We can both hear Pa, coming through the brush, forcing his way through it with snaps and tears and nearly inarticulate grumbling. Thomas is off like a shot, running almost on all fours as he crouches, and by the time my father reaches me, panting and huddled in the grass, my friend is nothing but a mole-trail disturbing distant strands.

Pa is a tall man--though I inherited his height, I’m only 13, and he towers over me, so broad and heavy that I am thin as grass and summer wind below him. I stand, looking up at him with a look that must look shameful, and he lowers the rifle to point at the earth, face still and steely with malice.

“I told you I didn’t want no boys ‘round,” he says, voice thick, like smoke from a bonfire. “Told you I didn’t want you foolin’ round like a little whore.”

“He didn’t do nothin’,” I say, arms wrapped around my chest. “Honest.”

“Who was it, then? And why didn’t he come see me, an’ ask if he could talk to you?” He takes my arm--not tightly, but with such strength that I couldn’t run if I tried. 

“He and I met while I was out with the chickens. He was on the road going up to town.”

“Sure he was.” Pa shoves my arm away and laughs, the sound like metal clattering to a dirt floor. “Sure, the devil ‘e was. I heard him talkin’ bout your legs, girl. Didn’t hear much, but I heard that. You think you’re the pick of the meat at the market, don’t you?”

“Pa--”

“Don’t talk, pretty girl. Don’t talk, and don’t you ever try and do this again. You’re gonna pray as long as you can tonight. I want your damn tongue to fall out before you stop praying,” and he begins to move, and now the pain comes as I stumble half-backward with him, held in a vise by my arm. 

“Pa, I’m sorry--”

“You ain’t sorry yet, Lu,” he says. He looks back at me, from under the shadow cast beneath his brows by the white sun overhead. “You ain’t sorry, yet.”

---

He makes me pray, that night, for hours and hours, for forgiveness, for something I never did. But the praying he makes me do that night is only meager practice for the praying I do during the winter.

Our chickens die when a coyote pack rolls through in the late days of fall, snarling and barking with a sound like mocking laughter. We salvage what corpses we can, and for a while, we eat well, but not well, because while we dine on fresh meat, the knowledge that something terrible to come hangs over us like the fog of their blood. The cattle start to go soon after, the first to a weak cover over a well (it falls in, it screams for hours), the second to a river, the third to disease, the rest tumbling like the articles like a rotting shelf soon after them. 

When winter comes, we have little, so little, and my father tears into his meager dollars to buy us what we can. I am grateful to him, even as the food dries up, even as he becomes silent, frighteningly silent, staring at me above the candle that lights our dinner-table with a face like a haunting.

I am not allowed to leave the house anymore.

I only cook--clean--mend--read the scraps of old newspaper used to patch the walls of the house as best I can. I make what food he finds for dinner, if he finds any, and I give more to his portion, and he says almost nothing to me except to remind me to stay in the home, to keep house and to keep out of the snowstorms and the paths of wild things. He fixes the roof and sharpens the knives--those are the only tasks he does around the house, besides force me onto my knees beside him to beg God for something for our stomachs.

And it is in cleaning that I find the box.

It is a small box, barely as long as my forearm and as shallow as the length of my hand, and it is under his bed, dislodged from a long stay deep in the shadows beneath his cot by a storm that shook the house.

I pull it slowly from beneath--it is unpainted, made of thin wood that leaves little splinters in the flesh of my thumb-joint. I remove its lid and look inside.

My mother is there, first, as I remember her--thin, short, with a look in her eyes like the hollow of a tree, unexplainably empty. The mark is clearly visible in the photograph, as she stands next to my father, mottled and dim. Neither of them are smiling. They are younger in this photograph--it is blurry, hard to make out.

Beneath that is a scrap of newspaper that I have a hard time understanding for a moment. 

Mrs. Mary J. Letts, 68; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Letts, wife of Mr. Roger Letts and mother to Mabelle Letts, which took place last Thursday due to a tragic accident involving an injury sustained to her head while riding. She is survived by her husband and daughter. 

The paper cuts off there. I don’t recognize the name of Letts, and the paper is old; I continue reading as I find another scrap.

Mrs. Mabelle Dawson, 36; Wife and Mother

We regret to announce the death of Mrs. Dawson, who is survived by her husband, Mr. Arnold Dawson, and her young daughter, Lucy Dawson. Their family has our greatest sympathies. She was killed accidentally as she was cleaning a weapon owned by Mr. Arnold Dawson, who claims deepest regret that

I feel my mouth run dry and my pulse hammer against my skin like stone against a drum. That is my mother’s name--that is my name, too, faint against the paper. I don’t understand why these things are in the box, among other pictures and portraits of my mother, and, unmistakably, my mother’s mother, whose mark is just visible in one small portrait of her, clearly done by an amateur hand. I can imagine how it stretched across the back of her head, branching along her skull--I can see my own mother’s mark, clearly, in the center of her forehead.

I feel cold as the wooden floor under my feet as my eyes trace the border of the mark on her forehead for the first time. 

“Lu?” my father calls, from downstairs. “Lucy? Lu-cy?”

The starburst on her forehead is strangely jagged. Unsteady. The shape that a bullet hole would make, if someone were shot close in the head. An accident while cleaning a gun. A trauma to the back of the skull. I hear a footstep on the stairs, almost hesitant, its weight barely masked by the slowness with which my father places it down.

“Lucy?” he says. “I prayed to God for a miracle, and he told me what we ought to do. I need to see you, now.”

I can’t breathe. My throat is choked by a snare as I throw myself back, scrambling across the floor and away from the box. My skirt flies up--my legs are exposed, the lines on them obvious in their purpose.

Summers ago, I went to the village with Pa, and we went to a stall hung with pig carcasses. There, there was a picture of a sow, her legs and sides and ribs marked with uneven lines where the different cuts of meat came from. Here was the thigh--here was the shank--here was the cut you made along the spine and the stomach.

I hear a slow, low rumble of creaking wood as he stops outside the door.

“Lucy?” he says, his voice more paternal than I have ever heard it, and I begin to cry--begin to pray to anything, anyone that will listen, pray that something else kills me before he enters, and nothing does.

And the door opens--slowly, too slowly, as though I’ve had a nightmare and he’s coming to check on me like a good father should--and he sees me with the box, with the tears flowing down my face, with my chest heaving in great stops and starts.

He takes a step forward. In his hands, he holds a sharpened butcher’s knife.

#horror #short story #writing #creepy #abuse tw #FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[meltwonu]

98.“If i have to pull over, you wont be able to walk for the next week.”

86. “Stop distracting me.”

60. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

notes; name-calling, choking, car sex, minor mentions of violence, yandere!woozi means possessive/mean!woozi, i realize i don’t have a yandere!woozi fic yet? Unless my masterlist is just that due for an update(it is tbh☠️), but anyway I love the idea of yandere!woozi so this is kinda long! The rest is under the cut! Thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

WARNING; That being said, I do NOT condone yandere-like/obsessive/possessive behaviour in real life. this is a work of fiction therefore I will indulge in it. If you do NOT like this kind of content, please just ignore it.

Jihoon sees red, knuckles white against the steering wheel as he tries to focus on the road. He knew attending any of Minghao’s parties was an awful idea and it’d only gotten worse when he saw you ‘talking’ to Jeonghan.

“‘Hoonie, can we talk about it?” You use your best pleading voice, already seeing the tenseness in his actions. You knew Jihoon could be possessive sometimes but this was possibly the worst you’d seen him yet.

“Stop distracting me.” He bites out, eyes never leaving the road.

“I’m not, I just… wanna understand why you’re so mad…” You trail off, noticing the way his hands grip the wheel even tighter. “Mad? Why would I be mad? Oh, cause you spent all of tonight laughing at Jeonghan’s shitty jokes?” Biting your lip, you lean over the center console of the car, placing a hand on Jihoon’s thigh.

“But it’s not like that, Jihoon… I was just being nice and he was just talkin’ to me…” He clenches his jaw, trying to not give in to the feeling of your hand slowly palming him over his pants. “You know I only like you.”

It feeds into his ego slightly as he smirks. You won’t have a choice once I’m done dealing with Jeonghan, he thinks.

“Get your dirty hand off my lap. If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” You pout at him, cupping his hardening cock through his pants once more. “But… you’re already getting hard...”

Jihoon spots the nearest highway exit, maneuvering over a few lanes until he’s speeding off the highway and searching for an empty and secluded place to park.

“You’re just a needy little whore, aren’t you? First Soonyoung and now Jeonghan?”

Right. Soonyoung.

Actually, you hadn’t heard from Soonyoung in a few weeks since Minghao’s other party. Soonyoung had taught you a new dance and you’d had fun that night, although Jihoon had been relatively quiet. He even disappeared early in the morning, an empty smile on his face when he presented the breakfast that’d taken over an hour to get.

“Jihoon~” You whine, seatbelt digging into you as the car comes to a stop in an empty parking lot.

“Get in the backseat. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

And then I’ll get rid of him for good, just like I did Soonyoung.

Jihoon smirks, watching as you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and maneuver yourself into the backseat in a huff. He follows suit, rough hands guiding you over his lithe body without a second to spare.

His lips meet yours in a heated kiss, teeth clashing as his hands roam all over your body. He eases one between your legs, nimble fingers dancing up your thigh until they reach the edge of your panties under your dress.

You moan into the kiss as soon as the pads of his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties; Jihoon’s lips parting from yours as he raises a brow up at you.

“Wanna explain why you’re already wet? Does Jeonghan do it for you?” He growls, eyes fixated on your already fucked out expression.

“Wh--what, no! I--I was jus’ thinkin’ about you…” You whisper, suddenly shy under Jihoon’s heated stare.

“Right. Is your pussy wet enough to take my cock already then, baby?”

“H-huh? Um, ah, d-dunno…” Jihoon scoffs, pushing your panties to the side before his fingertips glide through your wetness. “You don’t know if your pussy is wet enough? Do I have to do everything for you, slut?” You mewl when he eases in a finger, pumping the digit with sharp flicks of his wrist for what feels like only seconds before he’s already adding another.

You moan loudly as you ride his fingers in the backseat of his car, begging him for more as he curls and scissors them inside of you.

“Fuck, p--please, Jihoon, I need more!” You cry, watching as he licks his lips.

“Fine.”

Jihoon quickly slips his fingers from inside of you, licking them clean before he pushes at your chest. You fall back onto the other side of the backseat, head banging on the glass window for a second with how quickly he seemed to have shoved you.

He hovers over you in a flash, pants already undone and hand wrapped around his cock before he uses his free hand to pry your legs apart. “I’ll fuck you so good that you’ll only ever think of me.” He pushes your panties to the side again as he positions himself at your entrance, bottoming out in a single thrust. The air gets knocked out of you at the sudden fullness you feel; his cock snug against your cervix as he starts a quick and rough pace.

“When you’re talking to someone else, you’ll think of my cock fucking you open. And anytime you even think of anyone else, it’ll be replaced with thoughts of me and how I’m the only one that can satisfy you and how your ‘lil pussy was made for me.” Jihoon grins, fingers wrapping around one of your ankles as he positions it against his shoulder. He leans over you, making you whimper at the way he bends your body.

“It’s just you and me, baby. You don’t need anyone else~” He singsongs, slowing his pace.

The car windows fog up and you lose track of time; only focused on the way Jihoon fucks you slow yet roughly. He pushes his sweaty hair out of his face, brows furrowed when he looks down at you.

“I love you so much, y’know. I’d do anything for you. And I’d do anything to protect you.” He whispers, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips.

“I, ah, l-love you too, Jihoon…” Your words are muffled against his lips as he kisses you harder, smiling into it as you brace your hands on the leather of the seats.

You feel your orgasm getting closer, body tensing as Jihoon slightly pulls away. “Gonna cum?” You nod, hazy eyes focused on the way Jihoon smirks and straightens out his back. He keeps one hand on your ankle against his shoulder, but wraps his free hand around the column of your neck, gently squeezing down the sides.

“Then cum. Get my cock nice and wet ‘n I’ll reward you with my cum inside your tight ‘lil cunt.”

He squeezes a little harder as you groan; the lightheadedness washing over you the exact same time your orgasm crests. Your entire body feels tingly down to your fingertips digging into the leather and the only thing that spills from your lips are broken cries of Jihoon’s name.

Jihoon follows suit, grinding against you as he cums hard; eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock. He unintentionally squeezes your neck a little harder as you whimper, placing a hand over his as you gently ask him to ease his grip.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m so sorry!” His eyes fill with worry, letting go of your neck as he lets down your leg from his shoulder. He stays sheathed in your warmth as he checks over you, making sure that you were okay.

“Shit, did I hurt you? Fuck, I won’t forgive myself if I hurt you!”

“Ji--Jihoon, ‘m okay, really! It was just a second…” You catch your breath, leaning up to smooth his sweaty hair. “I promise, you didn’t hurt me.” He can’t wipe the worried look on his face but he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid of me.”

Jihoon helps you get somewhat cleaned up, apologizing profusely when the two of you maneuver back into the front seats. He opens up the windows to let in some of the cool summer air as he starts the car.

“Sorry, I’ll get us home so you can take a shower and get some sleep. It’s been a long night.”

You nod, watching as he turns out of the parking lot and heads back for the highway. And it doesn’t take long before you’re back at your place; having dozed off in the car for however long it was. Jihoon parks the car in the front, turning to you.

“I’m gonna… uh, grab you some of your favorite ice cream from the 24 hour store down the street. It’s the least I can do after the way I acted tonight. Why don’t you head in and get showered? And don’t wait up for me. I can see how tired you are, so just go to bed okay? I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He flashes you a genuine smile, eyes forming crescents as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure? It’s getting kinda late though…”

“No, no, no! I acted stupid and you even hit your head on the window when I pushed you. Please, let me just treat you a little. And maybe clear my head a bit before I come home.” You nod slowly, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Don’t take too long, okay? The bed gets cold without you.”

“Mm, I promise.” ...That taking care of Jeonghan will be quick enough for me to grab the fuckin’ ice cream and be back in an hour.

#woozi smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines #yandere!woozi #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jihoon imagines #jihoon scenarios #woozi #jihoon

[cullxtheherd]

@joannabethharvelle continued from [🆇]

Jacob nearly chokes himself trying to subdue a bark of laughter and he coughs at length, amused with her discomfort. The back of his hand glides across phlegm spattered lips and he spits in the direction of the waste bin. He misses but serves no reaction or acknowledgement for it. Pointer finger extending from the lip of the dented bowl he points in her direction but with the effort it takes to regain his breath it wags and wavers. 

“Funny and,” His lips curl around the words, finally able to speak and he produces another final, labored breath before concluding, “Interesting assumption you have about me and my,” Making a wide gesture his mouth shrugs, “Habits, but good for you.” Smirking he is able to regain himself for the most part, “Sense of humor is important around here. Never know,” Brows raise, voice pitted, “Place like this? It can be a real lifesaver.”

Expression darkening in a complete reversal his tone drops, “Or strike you down without a glance.” Bottom lip sucking into his mouth his teeth drag against ginger before he speaks again, tin bowl wagging, “Some more food for thought, darlin’: you want this filled you’ll learn the difference.” Stopping just long enough to be considered done he grumbles once more, nearly startling himself when he sets the bowl down audibly, “Or you will face the consequences.”

In an instant he is disinterested, ready to busy himself long enough to let his prisoner marinate. Although it is the tail end of June they are in the valley of the mountains and without a functioning central heating system it will be cold tonight. The welded door of the barrel fireplace whines open and he makes a much longer task than usual of getting it started. 

As a rule of thumb Jacob doesn’t give a second thought to any of his captives comfort or condition because ultimately they will fail their trials and be a waste of his time and resources, but? He is concerned for Elvis and, lastly, himself.

Having to backtrack for the matches he keeps on his sorry excuse for a desk he skates the edges of her with his line of vision- keeping tabs. “Elvis, pass auf sie auf,” His tone is uncharacteristically soft, even for speaking with his wolf. “Ja,” He confirms when the wolf hedges the metal frame, sniffing thoroughly before settling. “Gut,” Jacob is very nearly totally exhausted; insomnia is nearly unshakable as of late and he is beyond running on empty, “Braver hund Elvis,” With his back turned he yawns silently, “Braver hund.” 

Before leveling himself with the hearth he can hear a low, warning growl, “Whatever it is you’re planning on doing, Deputy,” Pausing to strike a match he finishes, “Don’t.” The logs he has loaded are mostly dry, leftover from last season and they catch easily, warming the immediate area. 

“You and your little friends been makin’ a lot of trouble in my hills girl,” Jacob takes measure to not address her directly, moving to the double doors of the balcony instead. He talks to her with his back turned, half in and half out- on the precipice of the threshold. “I didn’t want you to think I was unimpressed,” He makes a move to look over his shoulder but his gaze doesn’t quite rise, doesn’t meet. 

“Followed ya’ all the way to Dansky’s cabin last time you were in town- thought about introducing myself, but damn cougars, huh?!” Giving almost no time for any kind of response he pushes through, more used to a reverent, audience, “Things’ll just about lick the skin right off ya’- and I ain’t talkin’ about the Drubman variety either, darlin’.”

Jacob is fairly certain she hasn’t trekked through the entirety of his realm, but he is certain that aside from putting that shiny, new grappling hook to use, that she’s likely at least heard of the woman’s reputation if not seen her in the flesh. Before accepting his role as public enemy- back when this had first started he’d been propositioned by her on more than one occasion as gnarled and frightening as he is. “Interesting woman,” He remarks without elaborating.

From up here the courtyard doesn’t look as grim as the reality of the situation: neat and orderly rows, symmetrical barring; truly a madman’s beloved tartan. The front door to his quarters rattles and he suspects Staci. “Go away Peaches,” Honeycomb glazed glass rattles again under a knocking fist and he releases a grunt of aggravation before moving. 

Jacob sticks his head out at first, but the look Pratt is wearing has him swinging the door open, granting access. “What is it?” Staci speaks in mostly hushed tones and candidly, dropping the majority of the act and addressing him by his first name, first try; no sniveling. “Have them haul in extra- I don’t care, find them.” Widening his stance he hopes to block most of her view but he knows that despite his lumbering form there isn’t much he can do about what she may or may not be privy to. 

“The Project will not halt for the commission of cages, Staci. They’ll have to drive them up from Breakthrough,” Grip tightening on the door knob he huffs, annoyed, “I’m not keeping three Deputies in this establishment- yes, three. Idiot, you’re one ain’t you?!” For all of his smarts and efficiency sometimes Pratt can be dense and it is a fact that never ceases to amaze him. “I don’t- look. I don’t care about the other Deputy, ship them off to Rachel for all I care, you understand? Make another blessed fucking Angel, her Daddy will be delighted!” The phrasing turns even his skin and, gruffly, he dismisses Staci, trying to uphold at least a morsel of his image as dictator, “Get the fuck out of my face and do something useful, Pratt.”

Wagering that she may only remember bits and bobs of the entirety of the night he is confident that Staci’s cover isn’t blown. But, just to be sure, he winds the ancient Victrola on his way by and opens the lower cabinet doors. “Hope you like oldies, kid.” Nearly jolting into a pause he considers disengaging the changing arm that is almost comically new in comparison, but he isn’t in the mood to hear the same old tune ad nauseum at this hour. 

[🆇] “Ugh, no- Jesus,” He grouches to himself, manually engaging the vinyl switch. [🆇] “Much better.” Using little effort he scuffs a half broken arm chair across the peeling linoleum. The chair thunks into place against the lip of his work area and releasing the snaps on his holster he retrieves his pistol, ““Real toe tapper,” Sliding into the worn comfort of it’s misshapen seat he has an unhindered view of her, “Dont’cha think?”

German / English “Elvis, pass auf sie auf.” / “Elvis, watch her.” “Ja.” / “Yes” “Gut.” / “Good.” “Braver hund.” / “Good dog.”

#hi ksajdnkjsdfn i missed u #i loooove yousufdsjfhbdjs

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode Four: Wolves Gone Wild

View in Google Docs

Summary: June 15, 2015 - With Sammy & Ben in contention over a forced apology regarding the Bass Tournament, a full moon causes all hell to break loose on the outskirts of King Falls.

[Podcast intro music]

[KFAM rock intro music]

Ben Top of the hour here on King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the AM dial. And we’re live here on this crisp, King Falls evening. It’s a full moon, and you know what that means, so be careful out there. It’s four AM, on the dot, and as per instructed by Merv, the station manager, who we will be—

Sammy [agitated] You’re really gonna play that.

Ben [sarcastically] Oh look who’s talking again, everybody! Sammy Stevens, ladies and gents.

Sammy Very funny, Ben. You know, we’ve played this apology enough. let’s just get back on track, how ‘bout it?

Ben Gotta do it.

[radio static as recording begins]

Sammy Hello, this is Sammy Stevens and I’m sitting here with Ben Arnold, your co-host of King Falls AM.

[record scratch]

Sammy No! We aren’t doing this, Ben.

Ben Sammy! I’m gonna have to file a report if we don’t play this apology at the top of every hour.

Sammy Write it up!

Ben I don’t want to!

Sammy Then don’t.

Ben Sammy— can we talk about this? Folks, uh, we’re just gonna take a quick break for—

Sammy No break, no apology, you wanna play that tape?

Ben No, but we have to!

Sammy Fine. You know what? We’ll do this one live, kids, and *angry laugh/huff* boy are you in for a treat.

Ben I don’t know, I—

Sammy [mildly outraged] So there’s a note, on the board, when we came in. We’re to record an apology to you, the dear listeners and residents of King Falls—

Ben Merv simply asked that we apologize for… creating a controversy at the 55th annual—

Sammy We talk about the news here. Relevant subjects that affect this town. What we don’t do- *angry laughing* What we would never do, is apologize for trying to cover a breaking news story! A dead body at a public event that King Falls AM is covering is News.

Ben Maybe Mayor Grisham went a little overboard kicking us out- I’m not saying he didn’t, but—

Sammy [outrage continues] If I owned this station! If I owned the station? I’d go after him. I mean, why isn’t Merv mad at Grisham. Why is this on us? [softer] Have you even met Merv, Ben?

Ben Yes— I mean… not in person, but— Look, we have a show to keep on track: in a few minutes we’ll be speaking with both of the winners of the 55th annual Bass Tournament—

Sammy How ‘bout this. How ‘bout we open up the phone lines and talk about how the good Mayor Grisham is strongarming the media—

[static]

Announcer This Sunday evening, at 7PM, we say goodbye to longtime host of King Falls Sewing Corner, Esther Rollens, the way she would’ve wanted us to.

Esther [old, wavering voice] Talkin’ about life, talkin’ about love, and crochetin’ a mean doily while we’re at it!

Announcer While we will all miss Esther’s sweet stitchery tips and needlepoint mastery, we’ll miss Esther even more.

Esther We’ll darn your socks, and maybe even darn your men to heck, while we’re at it.

Announcer We’ll reminisce and play clips from Sewing Corner’s illustrious twenty-four year run. As well as a live music tribute from Esther’s favourite band.

[heavy metal music] ♪WAKE UP. YOU’LL SEE.♪

Esther Ohh, I just love these boys! All possible states. [heavy metal music fades out] Always remember: bad times never last. But badasses certainly do! We’ll see you soon, King Falls!

Announcer Hopefully not too soon, Esther. 7PM, this Sunday. Help us say goodbye to King Falls’ most bitchin’ granny.

[heavy metal music resumes] ♪*SCREAMING* I WILL NEVER REESST. UNTIL I WALK IN THE SUNSET. BURN ME UP IN FLAAMES.♪

[heavy metal fades out]

Ben I didn’t cut you off, Sammy!

Sammy Real mature, Ben.

Ben You were looking right at me, I didn’t even touch the board! And you know Esther Rollens was slated for 4:32 AM! I’d never.

Sammy [sarcastically] Oh, oh, okay, it must’ve been General Abilene, right?

Ben You know he’s in Sweetzer Fore- Sheesh. Can’t you just take some calls? You’re killing me. Line 6!

Cecil Sheffield [Cecil’s voice is old and slurred] Benjamin Arnold! Mr. Sheffield here! Why’re you on- the radio?

Ben [muttered] Crap. Bass Tournament winners were scheduled for two minutes ago. I-I’m gonna call the other—

Sammy Oh! So we can talk about the tournament, we just can’t talk about the dead body.

Ben Sammy.

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Cecil Sheffield to the show, uh, co-winner of the 55th annual King Falls Bass Tourney.

Ben It’s great to have you. Mr. Sheffield.

Cecil It’ss good to be taalkin’ to you fellas too! Benn, how’re yer grades holdin’ up this year?

Ben Uhh, I- *confused laugh* I- I graduated uh- already. Sev-several years ago—

Cecil No more late papers thiss semester, Mr. Arrnold.

Sammy Yeah, Ben! No more late papers!

Ben *deep breath* For those of you who don’t know: Mr. Sheffield was my history teacher at King Falls High School. [embarrassed and tense] Shouldn’t he be retired by now?

Cecil [singing] ♫Riiiiiising miidst the goooolden orrrange, graaandly iiin tooo th— bluuuee, reeeeeaches our dear aaaaalma maater—♫

Sammy *clapping sarcastically* There ya have it folks! Mr. Cecil Sheffield, winner of this year’s King Falls Idol.

Cecil Go Faaallls! I rreally lovve talkin’ t’ you guuys.

Ben [awkwardly] And we… love talking to you.

Sammy How ‘bout we talk about the big win at the tournament, huh? You split the grand prize, $500 and a bass boat, is that correct?

Cecil Ohh it was awwesome. Staandin’ up there at the podium with ma’ good friend Herrschel! I’m happy t’ shaare the prriize wi’ such a great man! I haven’ gotten a channce to uuse the new booat- uhh… yet—

Ben Aaand, we’ve got Herschel Baumgartner!

Sammy Sorry to cut you off, Cecil. Herschel, you’re live on King Fal-

Herschel [angry as always] You usurpin’, unsportsmanlike, son of a b[bleep]h filth! I know all you were colludin’ against me this year. It’s a conspiracy!

Sammy I’m sorry, what now, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, Big City.

Ben We actually don’t, Mr. Baumgartner.

Herschel Don’t mouth off to me, you conspirin’ little bag of d[bleep]ks!

Sammy Hey! Hey, hey, Herschel! No one is conspiring against anybody here! You should be happy right now, this is what, your fourth time winning the tournament? Granted, let’s be honest, a cadaver should probably give this one an asterisk.

Ben [eagerly] 1989,1992, and now back-to-back titles in 2014 and 2015. You’re the first ever to have four titles!

Herschel [hesitantly] W-wellll, when you put it like that, I guess. I never thought o’ it that way. I was just so red-faced about someone pokin’ a hole in the bottom of my boat right after I caught my last fish. Old Cecil wouldn’t’ve come close if some boobstain hadn’t’a messed with my damn boat!

Ben Kingsie got ya!

Herschel [mocking] It wasn’t Kingsie; that serpenty little b[bleep]h!

Cecil Iss that Herrschel? Hooww ya doin’ buddy? I’miss ya. Why dontcha answer when I calll?

Herschel [back to angry] Cecil! You cheatin’ dog pecker! I’d know-what-it was you who sunk my battleship! You couldn’t stand to have me win all by myself this year you limp-d[bleep]ked drunkard!

Ben Ooh-[worried]Haah! We’re gonna have to ask you. to watch your language. Mr. Baumgartner.

Herschel Now you listen here, you motherf[bleep]—

[dial tone]

Sammy Hello?

Ben Sorry Sammy. Merv’s already not happy, let’s not have the FCC[1]join him?

Sammy You know, you’re gettin’ real good with that dump button trigger finger tonight, Ben.

Ben I told you I didn’t dump you! Herschel, yes, but not you.

Sammy Y- *huff/laugh* You were so right about this full moon tonight, Ben.

Ben [mumbled] This is a nightmare.

Sammy [seriously] Hey. I’m sorry. Okay? I shouldn’t have gotten so fired up.

Ben You and Herschel both- You know how hard I work on this schedule? Don’t… puppy dog eye me, Sammy.

Sammy Hey, I’m just tryin’ to ice this apology cake, buddy.

Ben … 6:20, you buy me a stack of pancakes, at Rose’s Diner, and… we’ll call it even.

Sammy Sounds like a plan. So you’ve heard our story King Falls, now let’s hear—

Ben Good grief, we’ve got line 2, he’s in a panic.

Sammy Aren’t we all? You’re on the air with Sammy and Ben, what can we—

Line 2 [overly dramatic] No time for pleasantries- I need the law!

[small dogs barking in bg throughout call]

Ben Sir, uh, 911 is probably your best bet.

Sammy Or maybe tweet Troy and hashtag “KingFalls911” [half-muttered] I dunno.

Line 2 You silly Sallys. I’ve already called, the deputy is on the way. But I’m havin’ a terrible night, and I don’t appreciate the two of you makin’ it worse!

Ben Wait, is this- Archie Simmons?

Archie [sing-song] The one and onlyy.

Ben Is there something wrong out at the Pomchi Palace?

Sammy Pomchi? What the hell is a “pomchi”?

Archie Oh my gawd, read a book Sammy.

Ben It’s a dog— breed, half pomeranian, half chihuahua.

Sammy Oh! So Archie’s a professional dog breeder.

Archie Best bitches in the tri-state area!

Ben [flatly] That’s their motto.

Archie [softly aside, cooing] That’s a good baby, Daddy loves you! What’s that? That angry, mean werewolf violated you? Don’t you worry, Daddy will make. him. pay.

Sammy Did he just say “werewolf?”

Archie You betchyer bottom dollar I did!

Sammy Ben, I- I can’t.

Ben T-tell us what’s going on, Archie.

Archie Well, I live offa Route-72, damn near out of town. It’s usually nice and quiet [muttering](except for those damn trashy rednecks in their trailer park every damn Saturday night!)

Ben Buuut, tonight, it’s not nice and quiet?

Archie Hell no! I woke up to the most godawful squawlin’. I mean it sounded like a freight train hit a barrel a’ screamin’ billygoats. Half a step below a damn eight f[bleep] bottle rocket.

Ben That is vivid!

Sammy [being a smart-aleck] Dare I say, was it a half-man, half-wolf?

Ben [unimpressed] Good job, Sammy.

Sammy [quietly] Please don’t encourage this.

Archie It was so terrible a noise, I thought I might’a dreamed it. But then I heard it again!

Sammy Go on.

Archie So I threw on my slippers, and I went runnin’ towards the back of the house— an’ I’m scared, because I just paid— well, I paid a bundle for a couple’a these new pomchi bitches? So I’m worried that maybe Rufus (that’s my labradoodle)—

Sammy Labradoodl—?

Ben [quickly] Labrador-poodle mix.

Archie Damnit, Google it fellas and keep up. I’m worried that Rufus is maybe snuck in the backyard and roughed up the new pomchis? So I rushed toward the back and Rufus is in the Florida Room— just a-growlin’ mind you— so it wasn’t him. So I burst open the back door, and what do I see??

Ben What-ahh… wh-wh-what did you see?

Archie [increasingly distressed I see a half-man, half-dog, bent over hunchin’ the hell out of my twenty-four-hundred-dollar Princess Von Barktooth!

Ben Not Princess Von Barktooth!

Sammy Okay, so you run outside in your slippers, and you see some skeezy pervert, and he’s got your dog—

Archie In the biblical sense! But the maaan was A. Werewolf.

Sammy Are we really talkin’ about wolf-man werewolves, here? *laughs* I’m sorry Ben—

Archie You shouldn’ be sorryin’ to Beeen! He’s not the one who’s been sodomized by a damn man-wolf! And now I gotta stay up all night watchin’ the princess and dealin’ with the law! Lord knows I’m worried that this leads to long term emotional distress, or, worse. [distraught] An’ we can just throw out winnin’ the Westminster trophy!![2] That was not in our five year plAN!!!

Ben I have to. What- Was the five year plan?

Archie [soft and rushed] Princess Von Barktooth was supposed to fall in love with another purebred pomchi, who sweeps her off her feet, holds open all the doggy doors for her, shares all his treats. *giggles* [to the dog] Isn’t that right lil princess?

Sammy [derisively] This is just silly. I mean it was obviously just a creep with serious issues, not a mythical—

Archie Are you callin’ me a liar? I saw that abomination with my own two baby blues.

Ben S-Sammy likes to look at these paranormal events from all angles, Archie.

Archie Well the angle that I saw it at was a G-D crime against humanity and dogmanity alike! The beast man looked at me, evil in his eyes, and desire in his heart, tossed my princess like a ragdoll, howled at the moon like the wretched demon that he is and scampered off!!

Ben Ar-Archie have- have you had issues with the werewolves before?

Archie Oh-my-gosh, who hasn’t? Ol’ Dylan hillbilly Baxter used to pepper buckshot those chicken-thievin’ shapeshiftin’ sons-of-bitches!

Sammy Brass tacks[3] here; Is Princess Von Barktooth okay?

Archie Needless to saayy, we are more than a bit shaken by this turn of events.

Sammy Have you looked into silver bullets? eBay? Amazon Prime?

Archie You come out here the next full moon you sassy Sally and I’ll show you more werewolves than you can shake a d[bleep]k at… Aw, I just heard Deputy Troy pull up, I gotta go, boys. [click]

[dial tone]

Ben Th-thanks for letting all of us know that there’s been some activity on the wolf front, Archie.

Sam This is just too much. Look, stay safe, Archie, listening public. I’m not saying that there’s werewolves on the loose—

Ben There are.

Sammy *laugh/huff* Ben. Everyone stay safe. There’s definitely something in the air tonight.

Ben Oh no. Sammy *heavy breath* Can you take Line One?

Sammy Do I even want to ask?

Finn [panicked] Sammy?! Ben?! It’s bad! It’s real bad, y’ know?!

Sammy Are you alright, Finn?

Finn [still strained and panicked] I-I didn’t.. even see him comin’! Musta run head-long through the truck on my blind side!

Sammy Who did? What’s going on?

Ben Finn hit a dog, off Route 72.

Sammy You’re f[bleep]king kidding.

Finn [distraught, almost crying] This poor little guy! I feel so bad, y’know? [less scared, more nervous] Actually. He’s not that little.

Ben Finn, are you still in your truck?

Finn Oh yeah, but I stopped it when I hit the fella… I’ma shakin’ somethin’ awful here.

Sammy [“not” worried] I think you should start the truck up, and just keep on movin’.

Finn … I think he’s still alive! I’m goin’ out to do the right thing an’ check this out, Sammy.

Ben Sammy’s right. Keep—

Finn I’m outside the truck! Headin’ back towards the pooch!

Sammy Get back in the truck, Finn! [quietly aside] Uh, you know, because it could be a- a coyote or something, n-not a were- you know.

Finn Oh my. This poor fella don’t look too good. This looks— Whoa now!

Ben Move your maple lovin’ ass, Finn!

Finn It’s two-leg runnin’ at me boys! What the f[bleep]k!

Sammy Finn? Finn?!

[sounds of a struggle, garbled words, then howling]

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] FCC - The Federal Communications Commission is an independent agency of the United States government that regulates communications by radio, television, wire, satellite, and cable across the United States.

[2] Westminster trophy - The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show is an all-breed conformation show that has been hosted in New York City annually since 1877.

[3] Brass tacks - n. details of immediate practical importance —usually used in the phrase “get down to brass tacks”

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep4 #cecil sheffield #archie simmons #finn the truck driver #herschel baumgartner

[sockablock]

When Fjord closed his eyes, it was like he was back on the sea.

Waves from the quiet underground river lapped against its banks like the ocean beneath a ship, waxing and waning with the moon high above. A breeze carried down their tunnel like the wind in the surf, and by the soft glowing light of his sword on his knees, Fjord could almost pretend he was keeping watch above-decks.

But, of course, there were no stars here tonight. Just rock where there should have been sky. Darkness swallowing their meager camp on this shore.

At least the chances of harpies swooping out of the cavern ceilings were pretty slim. A part of Fjord almost wanted the action, almost craved some kind of fight, if only to take his mind off the things he had learned just hours ago.

And then, there was a rustling from behind one of the tents. He was instantly on his feet, falchion drawn, scanning the gloom.

He quickly found another gaze, slightly pale and golden too. A set of thin pupils blinked lazily back at him, and then Nott the Brave emerged from the shadows and came closer.

No, Fjord remembered. Not just Nott, but...someone else.

She joined him easily as he sat back down, taking the seat across from him on the cold tunnel ground. She was still wearing her armor, and had her crossbow at her waist.

Fjord raised an eyebrow at this.

“What are you doing still awake?” he murmured. “I said I’d take first watch. You, ah...you should go and get some sleep.”

Nott shook her head. “I can’t,” she said quietly. “Especially knowing...knowing that he’s still out there, somewhere.”

Fjord sighed. He gave her a slow nod. “I guess I can’t argue with that,” he conceded. “But you’ll need your strength at full when we find him. It won’t do you well to be tired, later on.”

Nott just grinned at his words. “You don’t have to try so hard to take care of me,” she said. “I can manage myself.”

Fjord immediately opened his mouth to protest. But whatever words he’d found, they fell silent on his tongue. He paused, for a moment, and thought this one through. 

“You really can, can’t you?” he said eventually. “You...gods, Nott, you’re probably the oldest one of us all.”

She laughed. Very softly, but it was there.

“You know, it’s not nice to comment on a lady’s age,” she said. “You could get into big trouble like that, young man.”

Fjord couldn’t help but chuckle along. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I don’t have much practice talkin’ to women.”

“What, you?” Nott raised her eyebrows. “But aren’t you Captain Tusktooth? Scourge of the High Seas? Rogue of the Waves? The dashingly handsome pirate warrior who’ll steal your fortunes and steal your heart?”

There was followed by a brief pause. Then:

“You’ve been talking to Jester, haven’t you?”

Nott shot him a grin. “Only a bit. And only for fun. I know in real life, you couldn’t last two seconds as a pirate.”

“Aw, come on!”

“Not without us, anyways.”

Fjord considered this. “Alright, fair.” Then he paused, and his gaze fell to the cavern floor. “But, um...I...speakin’ of that...Nott?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

The river tumbled on gently behind them. From somewhere far away, came the chittering of tiny bats.

“What? What for?”

Fjord sighed. “For dragging you out to sea,” he said. “For making you get on a boat and spend weeks on the ocean, runnin’ around and helpin’ me deal with my problems. You...you didn’t have to...and if you hadn’t, your husband could’ve been sav—”

“Stop that,” Nott interrupted instantly “Don’t say that. It’s...it’s okay.”

Fjord shook his head. “But it’s not,” he whispered, frantic but quiet to not wake the others. “It’s not, Nott, it’s...it’s my fault we stayed out there so long. It was my own stupid ambition that got us stuck there. And it’s my fault we didn’t come back here in time. Even though I knew you hated the water. Even though we knew...I knew, Felderwin was in dan—”

A very small hand found its way onto his cheek. The fingers were clawed, palm rough, but somehow, in some way, they were still incredibly gentle.

“And what about it?” Nott murmured, her voice soft in the darkness. “What’s the point in dwelling on that? We’re back now, and we’re chasing Yeza now, and Luke’s safe now, and that’s all we can do, isn’t it?”

Fjord desperately wanted to argue. But there was something in Nott’s tone, something in her faint smile, in the way she brushed a lone tear from his face, that made him pause.

That made him stop.

Fjord bit his lip. A tiny tusk poked through.

“I’m still sorry,” he whispered, almost to himself. “For that, and...not just for that. For, ah...for everything, really, ever since we met.”

When Nott pulled back, Fjord suddenly felt himself missing something he couldn’t quite place. Something he’d never really known, before.

“It’s okay,” she murmured again. “I know you didn’t really mean it. And part of it’s my fault, for not being able to help you understand the whole story.”

“Your fault?” Fjord quickly shook his head. “Gods, Nott, gods, no, it’s all on me. I was...I was jerk to you, I shouldn’t have made fun, I mean, I know how shitty that feels, I...I’d never want to feel that way again. I had no reason to be like that to you.”

Nott sat back down on the stone. She gave a faint shrug. “Neither did my brothers,” she said. “Neither did the other boys. But I was a halfling, then, and I was family, then.” 

She glanced up, and her eyes glimmered through the darkness.

“You aren’t my family. Right now, I’m a goblin. And yet, you just apologized. What do you think that means?”

Fjord struggled to find the right answer. Eventually he just shrugged, and Nott gave a laugh.

“It means you’re not like them,” she said. “It means you get it, and that’s a good enough apology for me.”

They sat there in the darkness for a few minutes more, quiet in the song of the river. 

And then Fjord spoke:

“You’re wrong, though.”

A pause. Nott turned her head. “I am?” she asked. “About what?”

Fjord leaned back on his palms and gazed up at the sky. 

“You are family. At least...at least to me.”

They were silent for a moment. Then Nott cracked a wry smile. 

“Like you’re my older brother, or something?”

Very slowly, Fjord shifted and met her eyes. He found amber that shone as brightly as his own, saw green tinting the sharp angles of her face. He remembered the desperation she’d cried at seeing Luke, and remembered every moment of every battle she’d protected them in since they’d met.

He shook his head.

“Nah,” he said softly. “Nah. Not...not a brother. Maybe...yeah. Maybe something else.”   

• • • • • •

💜 Ko-Fi link in my bio, if you’re feeling generous! 💜

#critical role #critfic #nott the brave #critrole #fic #fanfiction #long post #fjord #jay writes #the mighty nein #NOTT IS THEIR MOM #AND THATS THAT #sorry bout the length!! #fanfic #cr2 #text

[songofadaydream]

my real-time thoughts on rocketman the 4th time I’ve seen it in total and 2nd time this week, let’s go bois *very long post warning*

fair warning I just finished jojo rabbit less than an hour ago and it was way more emotional than I expected, so she’s probably going to be an emotional wreck tonight ladies!! :)) also, I will be pausing the movie throughout! just wanted to let you know

starting the night out right with some lay’s salt and vinegar chips and a lush face mask

not even a part of the movie but when the studio logos come on a version of goodbye yellow brick road and just *french kiss*

it’s starting and I am here for it!!

taron comes looking like an icon and a snack. actually, a whole meal. the heart glasses omggg

“how long’s this gonna take.” “that’s really up to you.”

i never noticed this before but taron stares right into the camera as he introduces himself

“my name is elton hercules john. and I’m an alcoholic. and a cocaine addict. and a sex addict. and a bulimic. i’m also a shopaholic who was problems with weed, prescription drugs, and anger management.”

“well my dealer was out of town I thought this seemed like a good alternative,”

“and I wanted to get better.”

um the transition into the full on musical number of the bitch is back.

this tiny little child actor playing elton saying bitch 10 million times. props to his parents for letting him do that.

um also his riffs??

just the way his mom says, “love to.”

god his dad is a DOUCHE

“when are you going to hug me”🥺🥺

the flashlight conducting scene!! they’re playing rocketman and it’s so beautiful and cute!! whe lil reggie/elton gets on the mini piano oh my god

when he looks at his mom’s fashion magazines...gay fashion icon beginnings...

*looks up* “can we go home,”

he starts playing his teacher’s song and she’s just like 😦😦

idk if this is an unpopular opinion but I don’t really like the I want love scene. I just don’t really like the switching of singer, the arrangement, and tempo. just my opinion though :/ also that’s the only weak scene of this movie I think

elton’s grandmother appreciation post send tweet

that last I want love though.

when his mom is clearly getting it on in a car and her date is like, “I’m..,,..a friend of.,.,,..your mum’s,.,,”

his dad leaves. heartbreaking!

when he wipes the tear away...

“i discovered records. and rock and roll :)”

playing classical music with an elvis presley haircut is an aesthetic no I don’t take criticism

“excuse me. you can’t put that there,” “why not,” “it’ll get knocked off.”

when he transforms into teenage elton and an amazing musical/dance number starts

that face taron makes when the door shuts on the car

“it’s not just your name. you gotta kill the person you were born to be in order to become the person you wanna be.”

that kiss with one of the band members is so hot.

peeing in a bottle in disgusting I’m sorry.

“what’d you say your name was again?” “elton.” “elton. elton what.” “john. elton john.”

ray is cute af. also the transcendental moment when he hands elton the envelope with bernie’s lyrics in it.

“one frothy coffee, no froth.”

jamie is so cute what the heckkkk

singing streets of loredo in a cafe is so wholesome and adorable

holy sHIT BORDER SONG IS STARTING

bernie and elton are literally so cute together as friends omg

also completely digging these like early 70s silk scarf things.

“yeah I could just take those songs and leave if you like,”

“what about the fact that you’re a f*g...your little friend here...is a homosexual.”

bernie not caring whether or not elton is is gay is Peak Pure ™

“oH fUcK”

when they stumble home drunk. the cuteness I can’t.

“you are a ssshhHHITT hot piano player, you have an aMAZING voice, and I’m telling you there is something special that happens...when you sing our songs.”

the way the two handle elton’s leaning in for a kiss is SO GOOD and I could write an entire essay on it. “we became inseparable after that. the brother I never had.”

“anyway I took his advice. told arabella. she took it quite well actually,” *cut to her throwing his piano out the window* “sHe KiLlEd mY pIaNo”

your song and everything about that scene is perfection. that’s all I have to say.

“you can’t just sPRING the troubadour on me.”

“put on a great

fucking

show. and just don’t kill yourself with drugs?”

amoreena is so good how didn’t I realize this until now!

doug flirting w/bernie kills me every time.

“ooh dude. what the hell’re you wearing?”

“my stage gear.”

*bernie stumbles in drunk* “reggie! reggie reggie. neil diamond is at the bar he’s talkin to leon russell and half the fuckin beach boys eh??”

“jesus sHIT bernie,”

that little, “well come on then,” after being yelled by bernie & ray

“please welcome all the way from london, england...”

ELTON JOHN

when he starts singing it’s like the smoothest molasses ever and I am HERE for it.

there’s an interview where taron says, and I quote, “those dungarees made my ass look massive” wholeheartedly agree my guy. but in best way possible

when they start floating

elton’s jacket and the magic that is the entirety of tiny dancer <3 <3

there’s a whole ass bed in a tipi?? what the hell

“so you like the songs then?” “not quite as much as the singer,” OH SHIT THE GAY TENSION

“there are moments in a rockstar’s life that defines who he is...and it’s going to be a wild ride,”

it’s a weird scene to like but I really love the take me to the pilot love scene. the song is so good and perfect for that moment, and they seem genuinely attracted to each other (even though john ends up being a huge dick later)

the way he takes the glasses off

the lil race to get their pants off is weird but it works

elton just seems so happy and content at the end and it’s so refreshing.

when he gets the shoes and the glasses <3

he looks so happy and fulfilled my little boy

why is it so cute when he and Kiki record don’t go breaking my heart

elton stops it the SECOND he sees John oh my goddd

kiki’s little “ough” when she sees john

“elton what’s going on are we going again or should we go for a pint,” *sees john walk into the closet* “yeah no yeah you should go for a pint”

HONKY CAT IS ONE OF IF NOT THE BEST SCENES/SONGS IN THE ENTIRE FILM THERE I SAID IT

cocaine induced head butt of a soccer ball is iconic

why did they have to get rid of rayyyy

the, “best of luck to you elton,” is so bitter yet genuinely well-wishing??

“welp...that was *absolutely* horrible,” is such a mood

the scene where he goes to come out to his dad is so incredibly heartbreaking, especially when it cuts to him in rehab.

taron deserves an oscar just for throwing that chair alone.

“what have you got to do the get a fucking drink around here, eh?” and then he takes a swig from a bottle in the car with john

when he calls his mom to come out. that shit hurts.

“i just hope you realize you’re choosing a life of being alone forever...you’ll never be loved properly.” he opens his mouth. it’s so awful guys. and then he fucking gets punched by john what an absolute dick.

“real love’s hard to come by. so you find a way to cope without it.”

the scene that comes right after that when he’s getting ready for his show and snorts cocaine and takes a swig of a drink really shows how far off the deep end he had gone. it’s heartbreaking, really.

“PEOPLE DON’T PAY TO SEE rEgInALd dWiGhT THEY PAY TO SEE ELTON JOHN. DON’T EVER TELL ME HOW TO DO MY FUCKING JOB.” “WRITE THE FUCKING LYRICS, BERNIE. LET ME DEAL WITH THE REST,” “i’m sorry,” “i know.”

that headdress tho

ok but pinball wizard absolutely slaps and so does the montage with all of his changing outfits

oh my god the drag queen in his room though

NONONONO JOHN IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE FUCKING CHEATING ON HIM IT IS NOT OKAY.

what an inconvenient time for his mom to waltz in

“and what a shy little boy you were! look at you now.”

“mum you’re ON my GOWN,”

i wish i were as cool as bernie getting out of that car and coming inside

“yEaGhHhH...go get a lil drink. yehyeh,”

get ready for one of the most impactful scenes of 2019 if not the 2010s ladies

“FOR MY NEXT TRICK i’m gonna fucking kill myself.”

again, I could write an entire essay on this but the fact that he is literally hitting rock bottom with his childhood self down there is so impactful and powerful and one of the greatest artistic choices they made in this film. also the cinematography is gorgeous.

and oh, by the way, taron actually performed this underwater. no cgi or special effects. where is his oscar.

john is a dick to him on the stretcher but bernie looks so genuinely concerned for his friend and I love that.

it is absolutely gut wrenching when they pump his stomach.

THE CINEMATOGRAPHY AND ANGLES AND SILHOUETTES WHEN IT GETS TO THE BIG CHORUS PART IS SO SO SO INCREDIBLY GOOD AND AMAZING AND I WILL NEVER, EVER GET OVER IT.

the nurses getting him ready for what was probably his biggest/most iconic performance to date is something so incredible, and such a great choice cinematically, story wise, and really emotion wise too. he was at his absolute rock bottom and did one of if not the most iconic performance a little over 24hrs later, and I think this little part really helps to illustrate that.

taron actually hit that baseball and I’m so proud of him for it.

the liftoff is so great. and then it cuts to him in a plane with smoke on his head which just. ugh.

hot take: elton’s addiction wouldn’t have gotten so bad if he had just gone to bernie’s fucking ranch with him

THE QUEEN OUTFIT IS SO ICONIC IM SORRY

also if this movie doesn’t win the goddamn best costume design I swear to god.

YES BENNIE AND THE JETSSSSS

this is also such a great scene as well omg.

when he flashbacks to his childhood and difficult and also great moments in his life during this sequence. that hit hard.

i feel like no one talks about taron’s arms enough? they as thiccc as his thighs why y’all sleeping on them

“You signed a contract with me years ago, so I’ll still be collecting my 20% long after you’ve killed yourself.” that’s cold as hell.

when he throws that glass at the door. and then victim of love starts playing straight afterwards UGH dexter fletcher you need to STOP and CALM DOWN

listen I don’t know elton was thinking and/or feeling in terms of life and his sexuality when he decided to marry renata but can we talk about his wedding outfit?? wtffff it’s so gay and if you don’t see it you’re blind.

the look his mom gives him I’m DEAD

they literally had separate rooms this was not a normal marriage. the breakfast scene is so sad though.

“did being married make you happy?” “not really, I’m gay.” hands down one of the most iconic lines in the entire movie.

why does he have sperm on this firework suit coat.

“you know I am so sick of running away from who I am.”

the way his voice wavers and cracks is not okay. and neither is his mom twisting everything around so that she’s made out to be the victim. and don’t cry in the bathroom elton please buddy. you’ll be okay.

“campaign to kill yourself is going well, eh?”

“when did you give up? if you don’t care about yourself how can you expect anyone else to...it’s not weak to ask for help.”

goodbye yellow brick road is such a beautiful song and scene and why didn’t we get Jamie to sing more I mean come on he does so incredibly well in this scene.

also I didn’t really realize that they flipped a few verses around for the movie. and elton yelling and screaming at bernie as he leaves is so powerful.

elton yelling at himself.

this is also when he has a heart attack?? chest infection?? I don’t really know but he falls down the stairs and Mr. Dick Manager John makes him continue to perform.

and there he is in the first scene’s costume. singing the rest of yellow brick road.

and there he goes. off to rehab. a full circle moment. good for him for finally taking control of his life and addictions.

“yeah but I started acting like a c*nt in 1975. I just forgot to stop.”

“maybe I should’ve tried to be more ordinary.” his grandmother walks in. “he was never ordinary.” my. heart. can. not. take. this.

this next scene where he talks to everyone in his mind is incredibly powerful and I will shout it from the rooftops until the end of time.

“my problem is that I believed you loved me. and you’re incapable of it.” the SHADE

“actually I think I’m okay with strange.”

BERNIE COMES IN MY LOVE

“bernie...I never told you how much I need you.” shit fam here comes the waterworks

“you just need to remember who you are. and be okay with it.”

and then his childhood self comes in. “I haven’t been reggie Dwight for years.” “when are you going to hug me.” he engulfs his young self in a hug. this is one of the best moments of the film and I am now full on crying.

I can’t get over how wholesome bernie’s visit is with Elton. the sweetest thing ever.

“you’re not scared you’re not good without it, you’re scared to feel again...this is the part you gotta do on your own. these...need music”

“thank you bernie.” “you’re my brother.” <3

and then he finally sits down to write again. and it’s pure magic.

I’m still standing is a a feat of what he’s been through the entire movie. finally, he’s sober, he’s accepting of himself/his sexuality, and is getting to a better place. plus, it mirrors the original music video, and is everything I’ve ever needed and more. *the* perfect scene and song to end upon.

he’s so happy at the end. and then the epilogue starts and says he’s been sober for 28 years and counting, set up an aids charity, still writes with bernie, met his husband David 25 years ago and is finally loved properly (rip my heart out of my chest, why don’t you), has two sons and is retiring from touring. and and the I’m gonna love me again plays with him and taron and it’s just such a perfect song to end, and I can’t.

so. those are my thought while watching rocketman for the 4th time in total, 2nd time this week. sorry that’s it’s so long. I just love this film so much. anyways, it’s almost 2am and I’m an emotional wreck. I’m gonna go cry and go to bed now. thanks for making it this far. :) <3

#elton john rocket man #eltonjohn #sir elton john #elton john #taron egerton #taronegerton #taron egerton rocketman #70s music #musical biopic #musical fanatasy #rocketman review #rocketman movie review #movie review #film review #music review #film analysis #film exposé

[likeadrug-ff]

T H R E E . O N E

L O N D Y N 

I smacked my teeth as my phone was going off the hook. Somebody was blowing me up so much that it fell off the nightstand. I roughly threw the covers from over my head and felt for my phone. Once I had it, it started to ring again. “What took you so long?” I sighed and threw myself back on the bed. “Maybe ‘cause I was sleeping boy.”

It had to have been at least two or three in the morning. It was still dark as fuck out. “Wake up mama.” I rolled onto my stomach and wrapped one arm around my pillow. “Im up baby, whats the matter?” I asked. “Im bout to come through after I make this slam,” I kind of left out the part about him being deep into the drug business. 

He started dealing our senior year of high school. I was the first to know and of course I didnt like it one bit. I begged him everyday to let it go but he was determined to make his money. “Ima be there in a hour.” I hung up and threw the phone next to me and drifted back to sleep. 

I felt a strong pair of arms slide around my bare waist and I instantly melted. My man was finally here. “You better not have no shit in my room.” He hugged me from behind and I felt that he was only in his boxers. “Only my book bag and weed.” Just when I thought I was going back to sleep he started grinding his dick onto my ass. I whined and tried pushing him back.

“Im tired Kaiden. Its four in the morning and I just went to sleep at one.” He went to leaving passion marks on my neck while using one hand to roll my nipple between his fingers. “Let me just slid in real quick. I need to bust.” Being that I was completely naked he grabbed my leg, lifted it in the air and pulled his dick out. 

He went to rubbing his dick all in my wetness and around my clit. His dick was so thick and long and I thought it was the prettiest thing in the world. “K-Kaiden.” 

Kaidens grip on my leg tightened as he pushed into me causing me to moan and shudder. “Its gon’ be quick mama.” Our bodies moved as one as he picked up his speed. “Dont stop. Dont..fucking..stop!” He covered my mouth as he pounded me from the back with no remorse. I was close. I felt it coming and so could he. In a matter of minutes we were both cumming. 

“Best quickie of my life.” He was practically panting breathlessly. “Aight you can go to sleep now.” Kissing me roughly on my cheek he pulled out but stayed close behind me. 

--------

“Lon baby? Its mama.” She knocked softly and I scurried out of bed. Kaiden huffed and turned on his stomach covering his whole body. I snatched my silk robe off the door and opened the door as I tied the straps. “Good morning.” I cleared my throat. “Hey mamas Rosey,” I had to side eye her. “I made everyone breakfast sandwiches. Including Mr. Kaiden.” She gave me her best ‘I knew it’ face. 

“Im going to be staying the night at the hospital, please dont forget to study. I need you to be ready before we can put you in the field mamas.” My mom is the head pediatric nurse and she took her job very serious. “I’ll get on it.” She kissed my cheek and said her I love yous before leaving the house. I closed the door and cleaned up the sprawled clothes from the floor. 

“Yo ya ass is moving like crazy.” I turned to see that Kaiden was now woke and watching my every move. “You look so beautiful, I heard moms cooked.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them together afterwards. “Whats the plans for tonight? Why you aint talkin’? Oh cat got ya tongue huh?” I stood completely still. Its too early for these questions. Like I just woke the fuck up. 

“Im working all day, both jobs. I wont get home until its time to get ready for Loryns grand opening.” I raked my hands through my hair and walked back to the bed. He sat up against the headboard and patted his lap. Of course I made my way to him and got comfortable. “My lil brotha coming in town so I gotta pick him up, get him situated and then we’ll be on our way here.” 

“Sounds good?” I nodded my head then kissed him quickly before getting up and getting ready for work.

K A I D E N

“Move the fuck out the way then bitch.” I grumbled when some old bitch honked her horn at me. I was speeding towards Lolanis school. She called me at the last minute asking if I could come pick her up. Rolling up to the exact spot she sent me I seen her arguing with some nigga. So me being me, I immediately threw the car in park and jumped out making sure to slam the door.

Heads turned in the process but I aint give not one fuck. “Whats da problem?” When I say she looked back like she seen a ghost. I had to keep myself from laughing man. “What-How did you even get here that fast?” Who ever this nigga was , was grilling the fuck out of us. “So this the nigga that got you ignoring me? Must’ve been why you broke shit off too huh?” Lil Lo got a man? Well shit, had a man.

“Omari you know exactly why I ended shit between us! You think you can have your cake and eat it too? You had a whole baby on me and didnt give a shit to even tell me!” Well this shit here is awkward. I aint know if I should say something or just wait in the car. This what my ass get for getting out in the first place rather than just letting her know that I was here.

“Aye..Ima just go wait-” Lolani quickly held her hand up. “Its not gonna take long. So you’re just gonna stand there looking dumb?” I wanted to laugh but it wasn’t the right place nor time. Well neither was this argument they were having but hell, shit happens.

Right when I thought we could walk away he decides he want to start talking. And of course I couldn’t help my overly dramatic sigh. “Look Im sorry aight? I aint.. I aint mean to hurt you Lani.” I probably looked bout crazy going back and forth between them. “You aint no fucking sorry!” She made us both jump back as she bucked at him and talked through clenched teeth.

“You’re sorry that I found out. You’re sorry that we can no longer fuck and chill anymore! Im done Omari. I wish you the best of luck with your child and everything but please, Im begging you to please leave me alone ok?” She turned and strolled to the car with me on her heels.

L O L A N I

Heartbroken. Shattered. Fucked. I dont know how to feel at this moment. Omari was my first everything and I just cant believe he would do something like this to me. But he did. The ride to my house was very much silent like I needed it to be.

I needed to get my thoughts together. Try to understand this whole thing. The only man I’ve ever loved and let explore my body has betrayed me. “You aight Lil Lo?” This nigga just had to ruin the peace and quiet. I picked at my nails and shrugged. “No but I’ll be fine. I get over it one day.” When I looked over at him he gave me a small side small. “You will.”

Why couldn’t Omari be like Kaiden? Even before he made things official with Londyn he was always loyal and true to her in their friendship. “You have any brothers?” He screwed his face then we both busted out laughing. “Ok ok, take me serious Kaiden.” He was in the middle of rolling a backwood as we sat at the red light.

“I do, hes suppose to be coming down tonight for Loryns grand opening.” He licked the wood closed and searched for his lighter. Looking up he saw that the light had turned green and proceeded down the road. “But if you’on mind me saying, Ion think its a good idea to just try to jump into something new after what I witnessed today.”

I crossed my arms and looked out the window. “Just like ya stubborn ass sister. Just hear me out Lil Lo aight?” He sparked the blunt before talking again. “Today you only got a lil taste of how grimey niggas can really be. I just feel like you should focus on yaself and school right now. Dont get me wrong we all wanna see you happy and living life, but dont rush it. Thats all Im saying.”

I sunk in my seat. “Fine. At least let me meet him.” He gave me a thumbs up and hesitated on passing me the blunt. I laughed and took it from him. Just because Im a college girl doesn’t mean I dont have my fun. Just as he pulled in the drive way we finished the wood. “Thank you again Kaiden. Please dont tell Londyn about this, I’d never hear the end of it.”

I smiled and patted his shoulder before letting myself out. Letting myself into the house I headed up the stairs and straight to my room. Being a pastry chef was not easy. Some days I have to work overnight and sometimes I dont get a break. I went to pick out some set of bra and panties. Then I gathered everything I needed for a nice hot bubble bath.

#Dave East #dave east ff #dave east fanfic #trey songz ff #Trey Songz #trey songz fanfic #Lala Anthony #meekalina #dyme taylor #deja hiott #beauty_newnew

[och-ako]

Heaven Forbid — Chapter One

Genre: Melodrama, romance, angst, slow-burning romance Pairing: Kim Taehyung x fem!reader Word Count: 1,900 Rating: PG-13 Plot: non-idol!taehyung. He was angry at the world while she saw all the good it had to offer. Little did they know that they both needed each other more than anything else. Trigger Warning(s): Death mention, blood, car accident, nsfw language, tsundere!taehyung Author Notes: Please excuse any mistakes as this is not proofread. I hope you enjoy it!

Rain pounded against the roof. I watched as it crashed against the large windows, cascading down the glass in streams. Sighing, I considered changing the OPEN sign on the door of the bookshop to CLOSED because I doubted anyone would be stupid enough to be out and about in the middle of this rainstorm.

“It’s going to be a pain getting back to my apartment, Mom,” I mused, talking to the small picture right next to the cash register. My mom smiled up at me, her arms wrapped around a three-year-old me, both of us looking happier than ever. I picked up the frame and smiled. “At least you can stay dry in my bag.”

I took my mom’s picture everywhere with me. It made me feel better—having it. I missed her every second of every day. I’d never forget the accident that took her from me, nor would I forget that I wasn’t there to help her. No, I was walking around the mall with my friend while my mom was lying in the street in a puddle of her own blood.

The bell above the front door chimed and snapped me out of my thoughts. I stumbled a bit, dropping Mom’s picture in my bag and saw a young man standing by the door absolutely drenched.

He rung out his shirt, leaving a puddle around his feet. His hair was dark, bangs covering the top half of his face, so I couldn’t get a good look at him. He startled me, though. He was the first customer who came in all day. After hearing the weather report, most people stayed in.

“Welcome!” I said with a wide smile. “Can I help you find something?”

The young man looked at me, his brown eyes narrowed to slits. He was frowning, too. Then again, I guess I’d also be frowning if I got caught in such a storm. “Yeah. A towel or something to help me dry off.”

I blinked.

“Are you deaf or somethin’?” he demanded in a harsh tone, making me jump. “I said get me a damn towel.”

“Y-Yes, sorry.”

I quickly stumbled to the bathroom and grab as many paper towels as my hands can carry. I knew that they weren’t as good as a regular towel, but it wasn’t like I walked around with a bath towel in my bag. I scurried back out of the bathroom and before I could hand him the towels, he yanked them from me and started drying his face and his hair.

My heart jumped into my throat as I took a step back. “Can I ... get you anything else, sir?”

“Sir?” His nose curled in disgust as he looked down at me. “The fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to? We’re the same damn age. Just call me by my name.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “I would, but I don’t know your name because you didn’t give it to me,” I said. “Besides, no matter how bad a day you’re having, it’s not nice to be rude to strangers for no reason. Even if you’re upset or angry, you should greet everyone you meet with a smile.”

That was what Mom always said.

The guy scoffed. “Who told you that bullshit?”

“It’s not...” I took a deep breath, reminding myself not to stoop down to his level. “If you need me, I’ll be at the cash register. Have a good day, sir.”

The guy was fuming by now, his hands clenched into fists, shaking at his sides. “My name’s Taehyung. Stop with the ‘sir’ bullshit.” And he stormed off down one of the aisles before I had a chance to say anything at all.

I shrugged it off and went back to my place at the register, bending down to make sure Mom’s picture didn’t get ruined when I dropped it. I let out a breath of relief when I saw that it didn’t. Thank goodness. I quickly hugged the picture frame to my chest before placing it more safely in my bag, making sure it was cushioned enough so the glass wouldn’t crack.

Thunder boomed and I hoped it wasn’t too windy for my umbrella to handle. Walking home would be a real pain if it were.

I was staring out the window, watching as two drops of rain raced down the glass when books were slammed on the counter in front of me. I practically jumped out of my skin as I looked up and saw a frowning Taehyung still staring down at me. 

“I wanna buy these,” he said.

I nodded once and proceeded to ring him up. I couldn’t help but notice the titles he was picking up. Romance novels, ones whose audience was primarily female. And middle-aged. I didn’t say anything because Mom always said it was rude to judge and packed the three books in a small bag, sliding it to him across the counter.

“That’ll be $33.92, please,” I said, pressing my lips together as he dug into his wet pocket and handed me a few soggy ten dollar bills. I left them out of the register so they could dry. “Have a nice day,” I said as I handed him his receipt, my lips pulling at the corners as I smiled at him.

But when I handed him the receipt, he didn’t leave. He just shifted his weight from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek as if he were contemplating what he wanted to say next.

“You don’t happen to know when the rain is gonna let up, do ya?”

“Oh, uhm ... I’m not sure. I think it’s supposed to last into the night.”

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, running a finger through his wet, frizzing hair. “Okay, uh ... thanks anyway.”

Taehyung turned to leave, but before he could open the door, I called after him. “Do you not have an umbrella?”

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me over his shoulder. “Are you lookin’ down on me?”

My eyes widened and I immediately put my hands up in surrender, shaking my head as fast as I possibly could without getting dizzy. “No, no, I was just asking. I mean, if you’re headed in the direction of the bus stop, we can go together and you can use my umbrella. I mean, uh, you don’t want your new books to get wet. The words will smudge.”

I tended to ramble when I got nervous.

Taehyung cocked a single eyebrow at me. “Well, if you’re offering,” he started with a quick shrug. “Just hurry up. I don’t got all damn night.”

I quickly started gathering my bag, my coat, and my umbrella. I made sure to grab the keys to the shop as well, figuring it would be okay to close an hour earlier than usual. It wasn’t like there was a lot of foot traffic on the streets tonight.

“Damn, you’re slow.”

“You should be grateful I’m offering you to share my umbrella after you’ve been so rude to me,” I countered as I switched the sign to CLOSED and locked the door.

Taehyung huffed, but he didn’t say anything. Probably because he knew I was right.

I opened the umbrella and stood next to him, looking up at the gray sky. The clouds were so dark and heavy. Definitely wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon. I stepped next to Taehyung and had to hold my hand up high so the umbrella would cover him. The top of my head reached his shoulder. I hadn’t noticed he was so much taller until I was standing so close to him.

“Walk faster, will ya?”

“Someone was bit by the grumpy bug this morning,” I muttered, picking up my pace. The puddles on the side of the road were at least a couple inches thick and every time I stepped in one, it splashed into my shoes, soaking my socks. I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment, put on some pajamas, and make some ramen. “You know, you use more facial muscles frowning than you do smiling.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Tell me more,” Taehyung said sarcastically.

Sometimes I wished Mom didn’t tell me to give everyone the benefit of the doubt because this guy was extremely unlikable for many reasons. I looked at him and watched as he clutched the bag of books to his chest, walking in pace with me and watching the cars drive by.

“Switch places with me.”

“What?”

Taehyung gritted his teeth, clearly on one of his last nerves. He just sighed heavily and moved around me so he was the one next to the street and I was next to the buildings. “Idiot,” he grumbled.

Then a car drove by quickly and drove through a giant puddle, splashing onto Taehyung and wetting his shirt and jeans. I looked at him with wide eyes, asking if he was okay, but all he did was shrug and frown. That seemed to be a normal thing for him. For a moment I wondered if he knew he’d get splashed walking on that side. Maybe he ... didn’t want me to get splashed.

My face burned as I looked away from him and instead looked in front of me, trying to get to the bus stop as soon as possible in hopes that getting a little farther away from him would help me calm down.

Ten minutes later, we were at the bus stop and our feet were completely drenched. There was a whole ocean in my shoes, the fabric of my socks sticking to my skin.

“This is as far as I go,” I said, standing under the little canopy of a nearby bakery while I wait for the bus. “It was nice meeting you. I hope you’re in a better mood the next time we meet, Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s mouth was a straight line as he looked at me, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and bit his tongue. “Your name.”

“Huh?”

Taehyung groaned as rolled his eyes so far back that it looked like it physically hurt. “What’s your name?” he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable one after the other.

“Oh, uh ... Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said, his voice so soft that I almost didn’t hear him over the rain coming down in sheets. He swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. Then he cleared his throat and turned on his heels, running off into the rain without looking back.

I watched him as he left with a confused look on my face, my mouth forming a little ‘o.’ 

What a weird person, I thought to myself. 

He turned down the street and disappeared just as the bus stopped in front of me. I almost didn’t notice it as I fumbled with my bag, trying to find some spare change to put in the money meter. As soon as I paid the fare, I smiled at the driver I recognized from yesterday and made me way down the aisle, looking for an empty seat.

Hey, Mom. Today seemed like a normal day. Little did I know that my life would change forever from here on out. And little did I know that that angry guy with a serious attitude problem would become the biggest part of my new life.

#bts #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #taehyung x reader #hf: ch 1 #story: heaven forbid

[bee-kathony]

Four Years | Year One - February 15th, 2014

Claire and Jamie go on their first date

February 15th, 2014

It’s been forty four days since I last saw Jamie Fraser. But it’s been one hour since I last spoke to him.

Over the past few weeks I learned a lot about him. He owned his own company for starters. A successful business man, he had started a distillery company a few years ago with his Godfather, Murtagh. The whisky he made was actually quite good and I even had a bottle of it sitting in my cupboard. A fact he loved to bring up.

His parents had both died when he was young, at separate times but their absence made him ache sometimes, for family. And he had a sister, Jenny, who was married with a couple of kids.

Because of my busy schedule, we had been unable to meet since that day in the gym. I also hadn’t found time to get my head looked at. Jamie asked me at least every other day, pestering me and reminding me that I worked in a hospital and that it shouldn’t be that hard.

But it was hard. I would have to ask one of my colleagues for a head CT and I wasn’t prepared to do that yet. Besides… I hadn’t fallen since that day. There was nothing to worry about.

I found that Jamie knew more about me than anyone else. This was especially odd because we only talked over the phone or texted. The digital age.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day and I hadn’t expected anything. So when a vase of flowers showed up with my name on it, well… it said, “For my Sassenach, Happy Valentine’s Day,” I found myself doing an embarrassing little dance by the nurses station.

“That from Jamie?” Geillis asked as she came up from behind me.

“Ummm, it might be,” I quickly grabbed the card that came with the flowers and tucked it into my front jacket pocket.

“Ye spend all yer time talkin’ with the ginger fox but ye havena gone on a real date yet.”

Pushing my nose into the flowers, I felt faint. Not like I would pass out but just a bit light headed. The emotions, I told myself.

“We will. I think we found time to see each other. In two weeks.” Jamie had asked for my schedule ahead of time and made sure to block out the days that I was off. He didn’t tell me what he was planning but I hoped it would include a kiss somewhere in the day.

Ever since I saw his body, it was all I could think about. Most of the time I thought of his back and the story that went along with it. Jamie had told me bits and pieces; an accident of some sort, but he wanted to wait to tell me the rest in person.

+++++++

My hair had a mind of it’s own. I had tried to put it in a cute messy bun on top of my head but it looked more of a mess and less cute.

Jamie had just texted me that he was on his way to my house and my heart hadn’t slowed down ever since. Would he look different? Would he think I looked different? We had only Facetimed a couple of times, never finding time to do it properly. I couldn’t wait to see him again, I only hoped he felt the same.

“Have a good date tonight, Claire.” Geillis smiled, flicking through the TV channels as I walked past her, towards the front door.  

“I will!” I half sang as I opened the door to find Jamie standing on the porch. “Hello there.”

His smile was intoxicating, “Hello there, Sassenach.”

“Ye better kiss her properly, Jamie!” Geillis shouted from behind me and I laughed, my cheeks blushing and I pushed him out of the way to close the door.

“Don’t mind her.”

“I plan on kissin’ ye.” Jamie said and caught my hand, he leaned in close, “After the meal,” and pulled back, leading the way to his car.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

The waiter took us to our table, a booth near the back of the restaurant with a stunning view of Edinburgh.

“Before we start, I have to ask ye one thing, Sassenach.” Jamie folded his hands on the table and gave me a quizzical look.

“Have ye checked out yer head like ye promised?”

I should’ve known he would ask about this. “No,” I shook my head and felt ashamed.

“I dinna want to make ye feel bad it’s only I worry —,” his hand slid across the table to reach for mine and I gave it to him. “What if somethin’ really is wrong. I couldna bear it.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I just haven’t found the time.” My apology was genuine and I knew he could tell.

“Och, just do it soon okay?” He smiled and released my hand, grabbing the menu instead.

++++++

“Yer tellin’ me that Claire Beauchamp has been in Scotland for five years and ye’ve never been to the Highlands? How is this?” Jamie gasped and mocked horror.

“I’m very busy! I told you I’m a Doctor. I’ve always wanted to go but there just never seemed a good enough reason to go and see it for myself.”

“I’m takin’ ye. That’s that. Ye canna keep livin’ here if ye dinna see the beauty of Scotland.”

“Sounds like a plan, Fraser.” I reached for my glass of wine.

“I know many things about ye, Sassenach.” Jamie said to me, pausing in between bites of his pasta carbonara, “But I dinna ken anythin’ about yer family. Where ye grew up? Siblings?”

I had been dreading these types of questions. I had managed to avoid answering any of them while we had been texting, simply ignoring the message and answering a different one. There was still pain surrounding memories of my family.

I set my glass down and folded my hands in my lap, “My father’s name was Henry, he was very kind,” I smiled, remembering my father, “very smart, actually he was a doctor like me. That’s part of the reason why I chose to become one.”

“That’s verra interesting, what was his practice?”

“He focused on the brain, neurology. Very talented.” I began to feel more relaxed, taking another sip of wine, I let it all spill out of me, things I had never said about my parents to anyone. At least not in a very long time.

“And yer mother? Was she as beautiful as ye?” He smiled and I felt the tip of his foot touch mine under the table.

I blushed, “Well, she was very beautiful. I don’t know if I would say she looked a lot like me but yes. Her name was Julia, the strongest woman I knew. When I was young, my father and her tried for another child but they were unable.”

I remember wanting a sibling so bad, someone to play with, a friend to have by your side always.

“I think my mother must have had about five miscarriages while I was growing up. But she never lost the faith. Never let it show how much it really got to her.”

“I notice ye keep sayin’, ‘was’ and not ‘are’ or ‘is’ — are they gone then?” He asked and my throat clenched. Inevitably we would have gotten here at some point.

“Yes.” I steadied my voice, years of practice. “About six years ago, they both died in a plane crash. I was in the middle of my residency in Oxford, that’s where I’m originally from, when I got the call from my Uncle Lamb.”

Jamie reached for my hand across the table, all food and drink abandoned.

“I’m so sorry Sassenach, I know what it feels like to have lost those most close to ye. I even ken what its like about the plane —“

“Are we all ready for the check?” The waiter interrupted Jamie. “Oh aye” Jamie looked flustered, I could see his train of thought vanishing behind those ocean blue eyes.

The waiter presented the check and Jamie grabbed it quickly before I could reach to take it.

“This is a date, Sassenach, you’ll no’ be payin’. I’m a gentlemen.” He bowed his head and handed the check back to the waiter.

“That you are,” I smiled. My palms were starting to get sweaty, now thinking about how Jamie said he would kiss me after the meal. God, I probably had horrible breath after that garlic pasta. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp. Garlic pasta?!

“When will you take me to the Highlands?” I asked as Jamie wrapped his arm around my waist. He wasn’t taking us back to the car but was leading us to a park near the restaurant.

“Whenever ye’re free. Let’s wait a bit though, so it’s no’ so cold. Scotland doesna have too many warm days but I’d like to take ye there and not have ye freeze to death!”

Jamie pulled me close to his side, his hand slipped into the front pocket of my coat and settled on top of my hand. The park was lit with globes of light lining the path. He lead us to a bench and we sat down.

“Did you bring me here to kiss me, Jamie Fraser?” I looked up at him, my hand slid across his firm stomach and latched onto his side.

“How’d ye know?” He grinned and then brought one hand up to cup my chin.

“Because I think you plan everything. You’re very romantic.”

“I’m no’ romantic.” He blushed, leaning in.

Apparently he didn’t care that I had just eaten garlic pasta, he didn’t care that my hands were probably ice cold against his skin as I slid my hand just under his shirt.

Jamie closed the distance and kissed me. His mouth was warm and he tasted sweet. This was the second time that I had seen Jamie in person but my heart already belonged to him. I just hoped he felt the same, so soon.

#four years #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie and claire #four years fic #mclairefras #first date #february 15 2014 #next chapter broke my heart to write so good luck everyone

[trashboatprince]

I told @thedobermutt and @inkspottie that I was gonna write angst for the Bioshock au tonight.

And here it is!

Warning: character death

On with the fic!

--

Delta was not pleased that Joey had requested, no, demanded that he come to his office. He had been in the middle of playing hide ‘n seek, Bendy’s favorite game, and it was his turn to hide.

Well, he was found, but not by Bendy.

“What is that you want?” Delta frowned. “I’m rather busy.”

“Entertaining the gatherer, yes, I know.” Joey huffed, waving him off as he leaned against his desk. Delta noticed something next to Joey’s hand, his pistol. He’s been carrying it on him lately, because of those demented people, addicted to INK.

Delta didn’t like how he had it out like that.

Joey moved from the desk, picking up the gun as he did, looking it over. “Oh dear, oh dear... you seem much more attached with the Little Devil than expected. Heard you view him as your own flesh and blood, as your son.”

“Yes...? He’s my child, and I will do anythin’ to protect him.” Delta crossed his arms, staring at the gun. “Is this another problem for you?”

“Hmm... more of an annoyance to me. But there is a problem, and it involves you.”

“Me? Great, what did I do this time?”

Joey looked at him, his stare was colder than the water outside. “I’ve had... some issues, in recent weeks, Subject Delta. Two people, who have been living in the labs, have escaped and frankly? I can’t allow that to happen again.”

“What does this have to do with me? Do you want me to play security or somethin’?”

The man shook his head as he approached Delta, standing before him. “Subject Delta, I’m afraid that I cannot for another escape. Alpha and Omega are gone, up on the surface now, and I can’t have you joining them.”

Delta blinked. “What? Alpha? Omega? Who- what the heck are you talkin’ about, Drew?”

“Well, since I’m going to take you out anyway, I suppose I can tell you the truth. You are not really Henry Ross, or at least, not the real one. You are nothing more than a clone, the third successful one, to be exact, of Ross.”

There was silence between them before Delta let out a nervous chuckle. “W-what? What does that even mean? I can’t be a clone, I’m Henry.”

“No, you just share his name and most of his DNA, but you’re just a clone. And two of his other clones have escaped, they have betrayed me! They have betrayed the studio!”

Joey grabbed Delta’s hand, putting the gun into it. “And you will betray me as well. I know you have been wanting to leave as well, to take your gatherer to the surface. But I can’t let that happen, I’m sorry, Delta, but you have to be eliminated, best to do it by your own hand.”

Delta looked at the gun in his hand, before looking at Joey with hurt and shock. Then he got angry, his eye going to yellow in warning. “This is bullshit, Joey! I’m not gonna kill myself just cause you tell me I’m a clone or whatever! This is stupid!”

He moved to throw the gun across the room, to bolt out of there and get Bendy, find Norman, he was not going to stay here if Joey was gonna spit out such nonsense!

But as he moved to throw it, he froze up. What? Why couldn’t he- the Big Daddy noticed that Joey’s hand glowed brightly, a faint trail of energy connected it to him. Oh no...

“Like the new plasmid? It’s meant to control Big Daddies and the like, to put you under my control and influences. I knew you wouldn’t obey my commands, you’re not like Alpha, you’re too much like Omega and his stubbornness, thought I made sure you didn’t get that trait. Well, this little plasmid will take care of this for me.” Joey said this in such a casual manner, was this a joke to him!?

Delta felt his arm raise up, the gun was pointed at his head now. He moved his finger onto the trigger, he could feel the cold metal of the gun against the side of his head.

“Joey, Joey, please, don’t do this...!” He begged, which made Joey narrow his eyes.

“You sound just like Alpha and Omega when you say that...” He growled, before hearing the doors to his office slam open. “Great, what do you want, Polk? I’m busy.”

“Mr. Drew!” Norman shouted, he had noticed that something was right, and he felt like something was wrong. He came to the office as soon as possible and was shocked that this feeling of dread was attributed to the scene before him. Delta, standing in front of Joey, with a gun to his head. “What... is dis your solution?! You said you were gonna fix da problem, an’ you decide to do that wit’ a gun?! Henry, put dat down!”

“I-I can’t...” Delta gasped, his hold tightening on the gun.

“Sorry, Mr. Polk, there’s nothing that you can do to change what I already have in mind for this. Delta, say good bye, it’s time to leave.”

Delta inhaled sharply, he could feel something wet coming from his eyes and he knew it wasn’t the occasional leakage of ink. He was going to die, he didn’t want to! Sure, his job as a Big Daddy had that consequence but if he was going to die, he’d rather be doing it protecting Bendy, like he was suppose to.

Oh no... Bendy, oh his sweet, precious devil... he had no idea what was going on, he didn’t understand death, he thought the bodies of splicers were just sleeping angels. What would he do if he saw his father’s body on the ground...?

“Norman.” He spoke up, his voice cracking. “Tell Bendy I love him, and that I’m so sorry...”

The last thing he heard was Norman shouting his name as the gun went off, and he knew nothing else.

--

Bendy stumbled, there was a sudden, sharp pain in the side of his head. What... what was that? Did someone throw something at him? No, he was alone in this room.

But something felt wrong, why did he feel that? Why did he suddenly feel like something was torn from him?

Did something happen to Delta?

“Daddy?” He called out, moving about the room to find him. “Daddy, where are you?”

“Aww, lookin’ fer yer dad, kid?” Someone asked and Bendy looked over at the doorway. He saw someone standing there, finely dressed with a rabbit mask on his face. Bendy could smell the scent of ash and decay coming from this man, he could see the dark aura coming off him.

This was a bad person, and someone Bendy should avoid.

“Want me to help ya? All you gotta do is gimme some INK.” The man said, walking towards him.

Bendy shook his head, letting out a small whine, before his eyes burned, no, no! That meant something bad was gonna happen...! He closed them tightly before opening them.

He didn’t see clean floors and decorations in the room. No, he saw cracked mirrors, knocked-about chairs and tables, tears in the carpet, and a human with ink-stained clothes and a broken make that covered his rotting face.

The Little Devil screamed and ran, clutching his ink syringe tightly to his chest as he ran, hearing the man shout as he chased after him. Bendy was unable to fight, he didn’t know how! Yes, he’s seen Delta fight these mean people before, but he didn’t know how he did things!

Where was his father, he needed him! Wasn’t he suppose to sense automatically when Bendy was distressed?!

“Daddy! Daddy! Henry, where are ya!?” Bendy shouted as he ran through the halls and corridors of the studio through rooms, seeing more damage and addicts. He passed by Little Devils and their guardians, but he saw no sign of Delta anywhere.

He continued to run as fast as he could, his head hurting on the side, as if someone hit him with something sharp. It only added to the sharp pain of his blackened eyes, he hated it when he saw this scary version of the world, he liked the nicer version better!

Where was his father, he needed him! Someone was gonna hurt him, take his INK! He just knew it!

He ran into a large room, with a grand staircase, where he slipped on some water at the top step. He tumbled down the stairs, shouting in pain as he did, before he hit the final step with his head.

Bendy landed hard, laying there in a stunned state, before the pulsing pain in his head alerted him to something wrong. On wobbly arms, he pushed himself up, touching the side of his head, where we felt a gash. Bendy pulled his hand away, finding a black liquid on his finger tips.

“Daddy... where are ya...” He whimpered, crawling away to the side of the stairs, to a corner that was hidden away by a vending machine. His head hurt so much, his eyes blurring with tears as he laid down, passing out on the cold floor.

When he came to hours later, he saw the world as it should be, bright and colorful, and that he had woken up on a small pile of black rose petals. What sleeping angel left these here?

Why did Bendy’s head hurt, and why was he hiding?

Oh! He was playing hide ‘n seek with Delta! But he remembered being the one seeking, had he found Delta? He couldn’t remember, but he seemed to have dozed off.

He crawled out of the corner, turning when he heard footsteps and a relieved sigh of someone. Oh! It was Mr. Norman, he was in the room, looking a bit out of breath. “Hiya, Mr. Norman!” Bendy smiled, approaching him.

There seemed to be some red spots and stuff on Norman’s clothes, did he spill something on himself? What a messy guy. Bendy almost noticed that he looked upset, did something happen?

Norman looked down at Bendy and got on his knees, opening his arms. Bendy happily accepted the hug, moving into his hold, but blinked when Norman held him tightly, sniffling hard.

“Mr. Norman, are you cryin’?”

--

30 years later...

Delta found another Devil Vent, but he knew he had been here before. He knew this hall and this vent, of course he did, there's a triangle drawn in green crayon right next to the opening. 

This was his third time passing this one, he's been walking in circles through this damned studio. Of course he has, it's bigger than he remembered it being. There's more to it, more to what Delta knew was here. 

How long had he been out for Joey to expand this place? He stopped in front of the vent, frowning deeply. He was so tired, he's been wandering for hours, fighting splicers and searchers, banging a little song on vents, waiting for a little response to the song. 

He has yet to hear one, he keeps finding drawings of himself and Bendy all over walls and floors, many damaged and smeared over time, but he still knows what they are. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against the vent. 

His eyes burned with tears as he lifted his hand, banging on the vent to a beat. "I'm the dancin' demon..." He mumbled as he knocked out the beat. He paused, looking at the dark hole, hearing nothing. "I should have kn-" 

Then he heard it, the response. 

'Watch me twirl around and spin'. 

"Bendy?" There was a shuffling, thumping, getting louder. In the darkness was a soft glow, he knew those two, glowing lights anywhere. 

"Bendy?"The thumping got louder, the glows getting closer, as Delta stepped back. Then he saw the little white and black face, poking out of the hole. Oh, oh he was just as cute as Delta remembered. 

Bendy looked at him with a shocked stare, before his eyes watered with inky tears. "D-Daddy...?" 

"It's me, kiddo, it's your dad."  

Delta smiled softly, opening his arms. The little demon sniffed before a big grin came to his face as he launched himself at the man, wrapping his arms around Delta, who did the same to him. 

"Daddy! Daddy, Henry, I missed you so much...! Where were you!?" 

 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just... I don't know where I was, somethin' happened to me and I was asleep..." 

 "Mmm, no, when angels sleep, I gotta work..." Bendy mumbled into his shoulder, his hold tightening. Henry frowned, feeling his eyes sting again. 

"I know, buddy, but I'm okay, I'm not a sleepin' angel, I'm here. I'm here, I won't ever hide from you again." 

--

I’m ending this one here, but Norman never had the heart to tell Bendy what happened, so for thirty years Bendy believed that Delta was playing the game still. Since Bendy has no concept of time, this just seemed like a long, long game that left him feeling really upset.

And as for what I meant about his vision. Bendy’s eyes often look like white circles with deep, black lines outlining them. He sees the world through rose-colored lenses (just like how Little Sisters see in-canon), but sometimes his vision changes to where he had his typical black eyes and he sees how terrible his world really is. Yet he doesn’t understand this, he thinks his void eyes are his real eyes, what he really sees, and that his black eyes show a fake, scary world.

Also, Joey is a huge dick.

EDIT: I tacked off the fluffy angst I wrote for dober and spottie on discord to the end cause this was SAD!!!

#batim #batim henry #batim bendy #joey drew #norman polk #character death #john's drabbles

[diningpageantry]

Evolution Killed It All

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909690/chapters/37678574

Chapter 6/16 of Love You All, Die For This

Word Count: 2131

Chapter Summary: Family isn't quite generations of blood coming together with swarms of people. Family, sometimes, is an aunt, her nephew, and his husband getting piss-drunk over Christmas. In fact, family's rarely ever just flesh and blood; it's usually who you accept and love.

Notes: thank you to @jessethejoyful for quick scanning this ! this isn’t the last appearance of fiona in the fic, btw! (god, i hope i did her justice; fingers crossed) also cw: alcohol use

FIONA

Suppose I’d say The Chosen One’s grown on me over the years. It’d be a lie if I said I wouldn’t give the world for this little shit. The way Baz looks at him? Forget it. There’s no fuckin’ way I could hold anything against him in the long-run (especially after he offed The Mage; got good marks in my books after that).

When Baz asked me to be his ‘Best Aunt’ for their wedding, I nearly shed a tear for them. Nearly. Sure, I just gave a hearty thumbs up, but it was the best I could do without spilling tears over shit that fucked me more than it should’ve. Felt fucked to have me as the only viable family there, although, granted, most of the wedding party was the Bunce family.

But I’m honored to be their only “real” family. It makes the holidays wicked; one year, I beat out Simon in shots (although, it was by default. You lose if you break my fucking coffee table.) They’ve become the kids I never made the effort in raising, but with all the perks of somebody to complain to while they bring you fancy shit at Christmas.

Although, today was vastly different than the past few years. Not to say it wasn’t cheerful at times, but it wasn’t exactly what I'd consider ‘festive’.

Sure, I know about the fight and the whole baby thing, whatever the fuck’s going on there.

I know too well that trying is probably going to get them nowhere, but hell, they wouldn’t want to hear it. After all, I didn’t have the heart to break it to them during their dinner discussion tonight.

Or their after-dinner discussion.

Or their discussion during Die Hard.

Where I’m getting at it is I got tired of them talking and told them to go to bed because we had to prep for all the Chinese takeout we’d eat the next day while getting shitfaced with spiked eggnog.

Even then, a few hours of silence didn’t prepare me for a 1 am cup of water I walked into the kitchen for, only to find Simon downing a glass of whiskey (from my cheapest bottle; how considerate).

“Oi,” I mutter, smirking in the slightest as my eyebrow quirks up. “Pace yourself; don’t wanna puke in the sink again, do you?”

His eyes flicker up to mine as he sighs and lowers them again, reaching for the bottle despite my commentary. He pours it slowly; it’s a good mouthful worth. “Sorry,” he whispers pathetically, rubbing his face as he continues, “I just… dunno. Couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to feel anymore.”

“Huh. Couldn’t tell,” I quip, dragging out a seat and across from him. I grab my pack off the table, hitting it against my palm before taking out a fag and holding it carefully between my lips as I use my wand to light it. Simon keeps his eyes down.

“Do you know anything about this… vampire baby shit? How it works?” he asks after moments of deafening silence.

Didn't expect him to braven up and ask me already. Doesn’t shock me, though. Figured he’d let it eat him alive for a day or two before breaking. Stubborn one, this kid. “Do you wanna know?”

He pauses. “I…” he trails, staring into the brownish liquid in my obviously pristine plastic cup that was half melted in the dishwasher a year or so back. “Yes. Yeah, I do. At least, I think so.”

It takes a moment, as I drag in my cigarette before exhaling and sighing. He comes off confident enough vocally, but he doesn’t seem it at a glance. Kid looks looks scared to hell. “I know how hard you two have been trying, but I’ve never seen it happen, kiddo.” I take another drag, watching him squirm in his seat. He downs the whiskey with a scrunched nose and sharp exhale following. I let him have that moment in peace. “It doesn’t seem to happen much in nature. Hell, doesn’t seem to happen much at all. They’re their own breed of creatures, and a diminishing one at that. If anything is to happen, it’s a bloody miracle. Crowley, the whole vampire-Mage combination is unheard of unless they were turned, and I wonder if it’s like that for a reason.”

His face doesn’t really drop, but it falters in the slightest. He reacts with just a solemn nod before he pours himself another gulp, which just makes me chuckle. “Pass me the bottle? You two are depressing me.”

I receive a half-hearted smile as he passes it over, to which I just unscrew the cap and take a hearty swig, letting it burn my insides before coughing a little. “Shit’s not the best, kid.”

“It gets the job done,” Simon mumbles, voice barely breaking over the nightlife downstairs. A hand of his raises, scratching his chest before dropping back to his sides.

It’s sort of haunting to watch him; his wings fold over his shoulders in a matching hunch, shadowing over his body. He looks like a corpse. Maybe he is a corpse, beyond the magick-drained flesh and blood.

“It might get the job done,” I let out, pulling myself to my feet as I slowly let in another drag, letting it blow through my nose in an exhale. “But I have better shit for the holidays.”

There’s a pause before he chuckles, shrugging. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

The gentle sound of clinking bottles fills the air as I grab the nice shit I have post-its on just saying “FOR FESTIVE FIONA”. I set it between us after pulling off the top and having a nice mouthful, shaking my head a bit and coughing. “Fuck. Alright, nice.”

Snow reaches for it after me, filling a cup as if he’s some proper shit (probably something Baz has scolded him for; he gets on me about it too sometimes, but then I call him Little Squirt or just Dumb-ass and he shuts up). Before taking an extended sip, he stares down into it, seeming to contemplate something.

He scoffs out a soft groan after, sinking deeper into his seat. Something in me smiles, watching him. Gets me to brave a shot at making him smile. “I can try and steal a magick baby for ya. I’m a quick little fucker; they’ll never see me comin’. Just nick it outta the NICU before they even notice.” It makes me feel a little lighter when he laughs, like the room just lost 20kg. “Hell, I’ll steal a wand while I’m at it.”

Snow keeps laughing, curling over into himself a bit as he wobbles to the side, throwing me half off to thinking he’ll lean right out of my chair and break the damn thing. I finish my cigarette, watching him.

He doesn’t though, catching himself on the table. “I think we’re fine, but I’ll keep the offer in mind,” he giggles, pulling himself back up shakily. His curls shake a bit when he laughs, bouncing with his head.

It dies down, and he’s awfully quiet again, lip pulled inward to his mouth as he thinks. I give him a nudge with my foot, gently kicking his shin. “Oi, kid, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He lolls his head back a little, shrugging his shoulders up as his arms wrap comfortingly around his middle. He sighs, chest deflating slowly. “Dunno. Some shit.”

“And I’ve got all night,” I say gently, lips upturning. Don’t know if it’s comforting or not, but he gives me a smile back.

“‘S silly ‘n not a big deal. Just… me being stupid, that’s all. My therapist says this is just that part of my brain that doesn’t like me talkin’. Saying shit I don’t wanna hear but think I deserve.” He shifts his body more upright, trying to hold himself more properly now. His slump doesn’t help much. “I’m just… pathetic.”

I scoff, knitting my eyebrows together as I eye him. The kid’s anything but pathetic. “You do shit with your life,” I say as gently as manageable. He needs a parent right now, and I’ve never been the best alternative for one, but hell, I’ll give it a shot. “Don’t ya? Baz loves you to death, you’re working a good samaritan job that helps people, Merlin, you saved the magickal world, didn’t you?” He just shrugs. “Look, what’s makin’ you think that?”

“I can’t… give Baz what he deserves.”

I cock a brow at him, and I watch the corner of his mouth upturn. I still blink. “What?”

He shakes away whatever’s on his mind, a hand lifting and scrubbing his face. “He deserves a usual, mage’s life. He didn’t deserve a broken husband. He… keeps staying, he comes back to me, and he doesn’t deserve the shit I give him.” A broke chuckle slips through, hand covering his face from the glaring kitchen light. “Fuck. He deserves the world, and I’m his biggest mistake.”

I can’t help but laugh. Crowley knows it’s the worst reaction, but I grab the bottle, laugh, and take the biggest chug I can manage before practically slamming it back down. “Merlin, Simon, do you know how much that isn’t true?”

I can barely see his wringing hands, and I have no clue wherever he’s looking, but the kid looks overwhelmed. “But… I…”

“No, no he loves you. More than the whole goddamn world. Fucking Merlin and Morgana, Baz sees you as everything. Do you know how many nights he’d stay up and tell me it’d be you or nothing after you got together? Too many. The boy loves you more than the ground loves dirt.”

Snow shifts a little in his seat. “But… he…”

“Look,” I mumble, swaying forward in my seat. “You’re his world. I know it sounds like nothing, but I’m basically the only other person he talks to, so you gotta listen to me. He fucking loves you.”

He swallows, loud enough for me to hear, before nodding. “Thank you,” he lets out.

I nod, resting my elbows on the table and crossing my arms in the slightest. “Mmmhm. And I’m gonna give you some advice, and I think you should really listen if you actually wanna be fucking happy.” The way he nods makes me feel like a wise-man, so I let it fuel me to continue. “Kids aren’t everything. Sure, they seem great, but they’re the biggest fuckin’ stress you’ll ever see. They’re loud, they’re messy, they fuck with your shit and don’t say sorry. They’re a pain in the arse and you can’t just toss ‘em aside afterwards. There’s a reason I never had one of my own, especially after helpin’ out with Baz here and there. It’s too much stress, and look at you. You’re stressed, and you don’t even got one yet.”

“Don’t rush into something when the world isn’t giving you what you want immediately. You guys ready for a baby? The world might give you a little sack of shit. Until then, don’t wear yourself out over something you can’t control. If you wanna try, then try. If not, just tell him that you love him and some other sweet shit, and you’ll both be fine without it. Okay?”

He sort of stares at me and I think I get what Basil means when he says he can feel the kid thinking. It shows on his face; he narrows his eyebrows in and mulls over every word like it's some prophecy to follow for the rest of his life. Makes me feel like my words fucking matter, which feels sort of nice. “I… uh… yeah. Fuck. I, uh, I needed to hear that,” he mumbles under his breath, hands running back over his face a few times. “Fuck. Thank you.”

I smile slightly, tipping my head up for a nod. “Promise me somethin’, alright?”

“Mhm?”

“Give it up soon, if it doesn’t just happen.”

He pauses, leaned back in the seat as his head tilts up. He stares at the popcorned ceiling, chewing on his lip. He breaks the silence after minutes. “Okay,” he gives in, hands coming to his face to rub. “Yeah… I’m… we… yeah. I’ll talk to him. We’ll talk about that.”

I exhale slowly, smiling as my head rests on the table. “Alright. Mhm. Now, go to bed, kid. We’ve got festivities in the morning.”

“Are those festivities more drinking?”

I click my tongue, aiming finger guns at him halfheartedly. “You’ve got it.”

He chuckles lightly, body hauling up and stumbling out of the seat. I’d offer him help, but I don’t have the energy in me. We mumble goodnights, and he heads off to his bedroom.

I smile a little to myself. They’ll be fine.

#carry on #fanfiction #snowbaz #fiona pitch #aunt fiona #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #fanfic #fic #mine #simon #baz #fiona #love you all die for this #lyadft #this is honestly my favorite chapter #i loved writing this and just god #i'm hoping you guys love it as much as i do #i'm honestly so happy to get over that angst bump this makes me feel all warm #like yes! good!!!

[an-unkindness-of-muses]

AHS Lyric Starters

Murder House 

Sometimes I feel I've got to run away 

I've got to get away from the pain that you drive into the heart of me

The love we share seems to go nowhere

I've lost my light

I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

Once I ran to you

Now I'll run from you

I give you all a boy/girl could give you

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

You don't really want it any more from me

You need someone to hold you tight

And you'll think love is to pray but I'm sorry I don't pray that way

Once I ran to you

Don't touch me please

I cannot stand the way you tease

I love you though you hurt me so

Now I'm going to pack my things and go

Asylum

“There must be some kind of way outta here”, said the joker to the thief.

There's too much confusion

I can't get no relief

Business men, they drink my wine

None were level on the mind

Nobody up at his word

“No reason to get excited,” the thief he kindly spoke.

There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke

But, uh, but you and I, we've been through that and this is not our fate

So let us stop talkin' falsely now

The hour's getting late, hey

All along the watchtower

Princes kept the view while all the women came and went

Coven

You touched my hand, all the way down to Emmeline

But if our paths never cross, well, you know I'm sorry 

If I live to see the seven wonders

I'll make a path to the rainbow's end

I'll never live to match the beauty again

The rainbow's end

So it's hard to find someone with that kind of intensity

You touched my hand I played it cool

And you reached out your hand for me

You touched my hand and you smiled

All the way back you held out your hand

If I hope and I pray

Ooh it might work out someday

Freak Show

In the land of gods and monsters I was an angel

Living in the garden of evil

Screwed up, scared, doing anything that I needed

Shining like a fiery beacon

You got that medicine I need

Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly

Put your hands on my waist, do it softly

Me and God we don’t get along, so now I sing

No one’s gonna take my soul away

I’m living like Jim Morrison

Headed towards a fucked up holiday

Motel, sprees, sprees, and I’m singing

Fuck yeah give it to me, this is heaven, what I truly want

It's innocence lost

I was an angel, lookin' to get fucked hard

Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer

Life imitates art

Dope, shoot it up straight to the heart please

I don't really wanna know what's good for me

God's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'

When you talk it's like a movie and you're making me crazy

'Cause life imitates art

If I get a little prettier, can I be your baby?

You tell me life isn't that hard

Hotel

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right

At the right place and right time, maybe tonight

And the whisper or handshake sending a sign

Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait never mind

Late night, and passing, mention it flipped her

Best friend, who knows saying maybe it slipped

But the slip turns to terror and a crush to light

When she walked in, he froze up, believe its the fright

Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak

You leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak

An escape is just a nod and a casual wave

Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days

It's only just a crush, it'll go away

It's just like all the others it'll go away

Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know

You pray it all away but it continues to grow

I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart

Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed

And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance

Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there

Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do

'Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school

But their lips met, and reservations started to pass

Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

Either way he wanted her and this was bad

He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy

Now a little crush turned into a like

And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

Roanoke

Tryin' to get control, pressure's takin' its toll

I just want you alone

My guessing game is strong

Way too real to be wrong

Caught up in your show

Yeah, at least now I know it wasn't love

It was a perfect illusion

Mistaken for love, it wasn't love

I don't need eyes to see

I felt you touchin' me

Maybe you're just a dream

That's what it means to crush

Now that I'm wakin' up I still feel the blow

Dilated, falling free in a modern ecstasy

I'm over the show

Yeah at least now I know

Somewhere in all the confusion

You were so perfect

Cult

You don't own me

I'm not just one of your many toys

Don't say I can't go with other boys

And don't tell me what to do

Don't tell me what to say

And please, when I go out with you

Don't put me on display cause

Don't try to change me in any way

Don't tie me down cause I'd never stay

I don't tell you what to say

I don't tell you what to do

So just let me be myself

That's all I ask of you

I'm young and I love to be young

I'm free and I love to be free

To live my life the way I want

To say and do whatever I please

Apocalypse

All our times have come, here but now they're gone

Seasons don't fear the reaper

Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be like they are

Come on baby, don't fear the reaper

Baby take my hand, don't fear the reaper

We'll be able to fly, don't fear the reaper

Baby I'm your man

Valentine is done

Another 40, 000 coming everyday, we can be like they are

Love of two is one

Came the last night of sadness and it was clear she couldn't go on

Then the door was open and the wind appeared

The candles blew then disappeared

The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don't be afraid

Come on baby, and she had no fear

And she ran to him, then they started to fly

They looked backward and said goodbye, she had become like they are

She had taken his hand, she had become like they are

#The Start of Something New ll Memes

[annaphoenix1994]

Horseshoe Overlook - Americans at Rest

Minnie looked up from cleaning her rifle to the sound of hoofbeats, relieved that it was her father finally returning home after being to town all day. "Ya get lost?" She questioned with a grin, teasing him.

"I might have," Her father replied, stopping Trace at the hitching post outside the cabin. "I met a feller and we got to talkin' and I lost track of time." He explained.

"Did you talk the poor man's head off?" She chuckled.

"No, he actually liked talkin' to me. He didn't talk much of himself though. Just another ear to listen I suppose. Real nice feller. You'd like him!"

"Is that so?" She scoffed.

"Sure is! He looked a little older than you, but was real polite and charming. You would've fallen in love with his eyes," He explained, knowing his daughter was soft for blue eyes. Jameson was always a man who remembered another's face. In his time, it was crucial to remember a familiar face.

Minnie's heart fluttered as she immediately thought of the "man in blue" back on the Cornwall train. 'That's a one in a million chance it was him' she thought to herself, frowning in disappointment. "So, that's what you do: playing matchmaker for your daughter!" She laughed, shaking the memory of the man's blue eyes from her mind.

"Nah, I just met him while I was having a drink and we got to talking. He reminded me of you, so I immediately brought you up." He explained.

"You didn't tell him my name, did you?" She rose her brows.

"Of course not!"

"Good," She smiled. "I'll go make some dinner," She said as she stood to her feet before stretching by raising her arms above her head. "You still play your banjo? You said earlier that you missed playing."

"I haven't lately. Say, you wanna sing with me later?" He suggested.

"Of course, pa," Minnie smiled. "Give me an hour to make dinner." She assured as she walked into the cabin after getting the provisions from Trace's saddlebag. She caught a glimpse of her father staring off into the distance again like he had done earlier, worried about something happening. She sighed as she knew sooner or later, he would have to be under supervision twenty-four seven. She made her way to the chest at the foot of her bed, pulling out a dark blue skirt to compliment her cream-colored blouse. She tied her apron around her waist as she made haste in getting dinner prepared. Dusk was soon approaching as she lit a lantern to flatter the inside of the cabin while her father lit the lantern that hung from the porch.

"I'll be right back!" He announced from outside. "Goin' to go put Trace up!"

She nodded as she looked at him through the window, rapidly stirring the heated corn kernels, mixing cream and flour in them as it was heating up, making creamed corn as she waited for the camp bread to rise as they cooked on a cast-iron skillet.

"You comin' in for dinner?" She asked as the food was finally ready. It wasn't much, but it was definitely a bigger meal than what was typical: creamed corn, camp bread, celery sticks, salted beef, and potato slices.

"This looks great, dear!" He applauded as he sat across from her at the small table. She smiled as she set his prepared plate in front of him as well as the skillet of camp bread in the middle of the table just in case they wanted more.

"Thank you," She replied as she poured him a tin cup of water before pouring her own as she sat down to join him.

"How long you plan on stayin'?" He asked.

"What kind of question is that?" She furrowed her brows.

"You know exactly what I'm askin'. You know I hate talkin' about this, but I need to know." He replied, his mouth full of creamed corn.

She sighed, "I don't know. We have quite a bit of money for now, so I don't think I'd be goin' anywhere any time soon." She assured him, sighing a breath of relief as she saw him smile at her response. She could tell it made him happy to hear that as well as she, but she knew she would have to leave sometime soon.

Their conversations were brief as they ate, grateful that they were able to eat a meal this big compared to the simple diet of beans, camp bread, and dried fruit. During their meal, she couldn't help but notice how fidgety her father was, which wasn't normal for him unless he was eager to do something.

"What's eatin' at you, pa?" She asked.

"When I was talking to the feller I met, we got to talkin' about how we used to be in church. I miss playin' my banjo while you sing. It brings back so many memories. Wanna go play?" He asked, his grey eyes pleading for remembrance as he was desperate to ignore the awful gut feeling he had of things about to take a turn for the worst.

She smiled, "I haven't sang in years..."

"That don't matter. You know you'll feel better if you sing. Takes stress off ya!" He suggested.

"Alright, fair enough! You got me!" She chuckled. "Let me clean these plates up first. I'll meet you out on the porch." She said. He nodded as he slowly stood to his feet, grabbing his banjo as he walked to the front porch. She grew excited as she heard him tune up the instrument, knowing that he was eager to play as it was one of his many talents. Brief thoughts came back to her from when she would sing in the choir at church growing up, looking at her father for comfort to ease her nerves as he played the banjo while the church group sang. In a way, she needed this as much as he did.

She wiped her hands on her apron before removing it, grabbing a bottle of whiskey to take with her to soothe her nerves, even if she was just singing in front of herself and her father. "Alright, what song should we do?" She asked, sitting down in the rocking chair next to her father.

"Wayfaring Stranger" to start out. It's slow and I know I'm a bit rusty." He chuckled.

"I don't know if I remember the words!" She giggled.

"You will, dear," He assured. "You ready?"

She nodded as she gulped, closing her eyes, waiting to hear the soft strums of the banjo to get the rhythm of the old song.

I am a poor wayfaring stranger Traveling through this world alone There is no sickness, toil nor danger In that fair land to which I go

I'm goin' home to meet my mother I'm  goin' home, no more to roam I am just goin' over Jordan I am just goin' over home

I know dark clouds will hover o'er me I know my pathway's rough and steep But golden fields lie out before me Where weary eyes no more will weep

I'm goin' home to meet my father I'm  goin' home, no more to roam I am just goin' over Jordan I am just goin' over home

"I told ya!" He cheered her, chills erecting on his forearms. His daughter really had the voice of an angel. "What about "Cruel World?"

"I'll see if I can remember that one! That one's new!" She chuckled, feeling more confident as her natural talent came back to her.

Cruel, cruel world, must I go on? Cruel, cruel world, I'm moving on I've been living too fast And I've been living too long Cruel, cruel world, I'm gone

This big ol' world sure got me running 'round I heard a voice that said, "Just settle down" And with the moonlight as my guide And with this feeling deep inside I know now that I am homeward bound

"Should we do another?" She asked, taking another shot of whiskey to calm her rattling nerves. It felt as if every other problem in the world has faded away, even the gang lurking in the distance, waiting to make their move.

He smiled as he strummed his banjo once more, his mind searching for the next song to suggest, but his mind was boggled by the irritable gut pain he kept getting, feeling like he was being watched.

"What have we got here? A party?" A man said from horseback, holding his lantern up. Minnie's eyes widened as she stood to her feet, standing in a protective stance in front of her father.

"Mind your business," She snarled.

"Oh, I am, darlin'. You see, I have a reason to be here tonight,"

"Yeah? And I have a reason to shoot you if you don't leave right now!" She warned, raising her brows.

The stranger chuckled, "Ha! I don't see that happenin'," He said as a few more men appeared from the perimeter.

'Me and my big mouth,' She scolded herself.

"Dear, I believe your sins have come to get their due." She heard her father say.

That sentence stung her heart, but she knew he was right. "Get inside," She said.

"What're you gonna do?" He whispered.

"Don't worry about it. They look like bounty hunters. They just want me-"

"Oh, we don't just want you, but this house. Ya see, your buddy needs a place to stay-"

"Your buddy will have a hole in the ground to stay in. Not here, so get lost!" She hissed.

"Get lost, huh?" She heard a familiar voice say.

Colm O'Driscoll.

"Shit," She mumbled. "You heard me," She said, making her voice stern. She never wanted her father to be involved in her ways of being an outlaw, but she came to peace with the fact that he would eventually.

"You're right, I did. Loud and clear. Now you hear me: we're takin' your home. We need a hideout. Now if you want to live with your pa here, I suggest you move aside and let us in," Colm explained.

"Over my dead body!" She snarled.

Colm shrugged his shoulders, taking his pistol from his holster, pulling the hammer back, "If you say so," He said, pulling the trigger, except his aim wasn't on her, but her father.

With a grunt and thud, he landed on the porch. She immediately knelt down to him, holding his head in her hands, crying uncontrollably, apologizing to him, "I'm so sorry! I'll never be able to forgive myself for this!" She cried, her tears blurring her vision. He tightly gripped her hand, using his thumb to rub the top of her hand. "Never be sorry. It's how the ways things is," He panted. "I love you,"

"I love you too," She cried, bowing her head to where her forehead was resting on his. "Give momma a kiss for me,"

He chuckled quietly, "I know she's a-waitin' on me!"

"Get her outta my sight!" She heard Colm demand. She tried her best to fight the two men grabbing her, pulling her away from her father. "Dump him in the wagon right there!" He demanded, pointing to the unusable wagon sitting a few yards away from the cabin.

Both of the men gripped her harshly by her arms, dragging her away from her now-deceased father. Her body was numb and her brain felt stunned while her vision was blurred by her tears. Her heart was broken.

Both of Colm's men drug her into the cabin, using a stiff rope to tie her wrists around the thick cot post before tying her ankles together. "Where should we start?" Colm asked as he walked into the cabin, scavenging the food that had previously been prepared.

"Don't think there ain't shit here, boss." One of the men said.

Colm smirked, "Oh, there's somethin' here. Search every cabinet and chest," He directed. The men nodded as they followed orders. Minnie shut her eyes and turned her head as she felt Colm's presence tower over her, his rough hand gripping her jaw and turning her face towards him. "You got prettier," He whispered, evident of the bourbon he had been drinking. "You think you could get away with threatenin' me like that?" He mocked.

"I still can," She spat. "There ain't much you can do to me now. I got nothin' better to live for."

"Very cooperative, Miss Barlow. Congratulations, you'll be livin' your new life in prison after we have ya turned in. That's a mighty fine bounty you got on your head." He said.

"'Bout as big as the one on yours," She replied, pursing her lips. "I'd rather rot in prison than sit and hear your bullshit words," She opened her eyes to stare into his, taunting him. He clenched his fingers harder against her skin, wanting to make her wince, which she didn't. He didn't want to admit that she was as tough as nails as he was going to do everything in his power to make her crumble.

"What're you gonna do? Hit me? So big and bad." She mocked. Without a response, he did just that, smacking her clean across the face twice, slightly splitting her lip.

"You're gonna wish you didn't piss me off." He said, roughly pulling her closer to him, his lips centimeters from her cheek.

"Likewise."

───※ ·❆· ※───

A few days later...

Arthur took a long draw from his cigarette as he walked through the saloon in Valentine, scanning the area for Javier and Charles. He remembered that Hosea had said they had been going back and forth to Valentine since arriving at Horseshoe Overlook, haste to get a drink almost every night. He put out the cigarette with his boot, walking over to his fellow gang members, chuckling as they were trying to get in between the sheets with the local working girls.

"Hey! Alright, here we go!" Javier cheered as he had talked one of the working girls he had his eyes on to take back a shot of hard liquor he had paid for. Javier had always been one to try too hard to get women. "Oh, Arthur! Come here, come here!" He said, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Come over here, I want you to meet our friends,"

"Please to meet you," Arthur said, not interested in getting to know these women, although he couldn't keep his eyes off of the younger woman's oversized breasts. 'No wonder Javier wants a go at that,' He thought to himself.

"Well ain't you just the tough as teak mountain man," The large-breasted woman flirted, her eyes scanning him up and down, biting her lip at his strong build and broad shoulders.

"Oh, you be quiet, Anastasia, anyone can tell this one is a pussy cat!" The other woman teased.

"Exactly, yes he's a pussy...cat," Javier said, bringing back the attention of the women to himself. "Ain't that so, Arthur?"

"Whatever you say," Arthur replied, standing back to look at the women up and down like they did to him. "How much you cost, anyway?"

"Well ain't that a nice way to talk to a lady," Anastasia flirted, resting her elbows on the bar as she leaned back.

"Oh, I didn't know I was talkin' to a lady," Arthur sneered, thankful that they got offended.

"Excuse me," Anastasia said, embarrassed, gesturing for the other girl to follow her, Charles attempting to graze her arm as he was almost heartbroken that she was leaving.

"Well, I must say, you got a fine way with the women, amigo," Javier sighed.

"Yeah, a regular dandy and a charmer," Arthur chuckled, now leaning against the bar. "Where's Bill?" He asked before taking back a shot.

"Oh, man, I dread to think about it," Javier replied, taking a drink for his own. "Hey hey hey, there he is!" Javier pointed to his now-drunken friend, staggering through the saloon doors, accidentally bumping into a fellow customer.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" Bill spat, pushing the man away from him.

"Take it easy!" The local replied.

"Is he about to kiss that guy or punch him?" Arthur questioned, taking another shot as he knew he was about to get his knuckles bloody.

"Oh, and we have our answer!" Javier said, taking the lead and attacking the man that punched Bill.

Arthur sighed as he prepared his fists by cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders as he made his way to an opponent, delivering a few good blows before being punched himself, making his anger peak.

"Let's just shoot these bastards!" He heard Bill yell as he was growing more agitated that he was receiving more punches than delivering.

"Don't think that's a good idea!" Arthur grunted as he used the pillar to slam his opponent's head, knocking him out cold.

"Ain't there no men in this saloon?" Bill teased as three men had him cornered, two holding each of his arms as the third was delivering blows to his abdomen and face. Arthur groaned as he grabbed the man by the shoulders, turning him around to hook him square in the jaw, sending him staggering until he fell backward, holding his face.

"What the hell is goin' on down here?" A gruff voice said from atop the staircase. Arthur's eyes widened at how big this man was, secretly hoping that he wasn't going to have to fight him. 'With my luck...' He thought.

"No, Tommy, stay outta this!" The bartender pleaded as he took shelter behind the bar.

"Come here, you little greaser!" Tommy mocked, his attention on Javier.

Javier shook his knuckles as he attempted to throw a punch at him, Arthur following closely behind before being struck from behind by a man with an old wooden chair, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck, using his elbow to squeeze.

"Get the hell off me!" Arthur grunted as he used his elbow to deliver a few strikes to his abdomen. Once he was weakened, Arthur escaped from his grip, using everything he had to throw a solid punch to the man's temple, knocking him out cold.

"He ain't gettin' up from that!" Bill chuckled. "Javier needs some help, Morgan!" He said.

Arthur rushed to Javier, whose face was being implanted into the wooden table closest to the window.

"Hey, tough guy!" Arthur yelled, grabbing Tommy by the shoulders, pulling him off of Javier before punching him in the stomach. Tommy pursed his lips before grabbing Arthur's jacket collar, striking him in the cheek before effortlessly throwing him across the table. "You want some too, huh?" Tommy mocked as Arthur struggled to get up, trying to catch his breath. Tommy gripped his jacket, using his body to almost throw Arthur through the window, tumbling into the muddy street below.

"Come on, pretty boy," Tommy mocked, marching down the three steps that led out of the saloon.

"You're kiddin' me, pretty boy?" Arthur questioned as he staggered to his feet, mentally preparing himself for another brawl.

The men boxed for a good few minutes before Arthur finally had the final say, straddling Tommy as he repeatedly delivered multiple blows to the man's face, wondering why he wasn't out cold yet. If it were up to him, he would've shot him by now.

"Stop! Stop! Please!" A bystander intervened, putting himself between Arthur as he was sure he was close to splitting Tommy's skull. "Please, I beg you. Stop. Come, sir. You won the fight already, surely that's enough?" The man suggested.

"What business is it of yours?" Arthur growled.

"No business," The man replied, coughing as he spit bile from his mouth. "No business, sir, but please, I beg you-"

Arthur had enough, pushing past the man as he quickly tended to Tommy. Arthur grabbed his shoulder as it was aching more than any other limb, making his way to the general store to have a seat on the bench outside, not even noticing Dutch's presence.

"Making new friends again I see, Arthur," He heard a familiar foreign voice say.

"Look who we found sniffing about," Dutch said, introducing the gang's longtime friend, Josiah Trelawny, a former member of the Van der Linde gang and Englishman. By how Arthur noted how he was dressed, he wasn't the only one giving him the odd look of 'this man is a long way from civilization.'

"Josiah Trelawny," Arthur said.

"The very same!" Dutch chuckled as Josiah did a bow, introducing himself.

"Well, well," Arthur said as he took a seat on the bench. "I thought you'd gone to New York?"

"And miss all this glamour?" Josiah replied in his sing-song voice. "You must be joking!"

"How are you?" Arthur asked as he now stood up to walk off his aches as sitting only seemed to make it worse.

"Quite well indeed," Josiah replied. "I went to Blackwater looking for you gentlemen. You're not very popular down there it seems," He explained. "Ah Javier and Charles! I've missed you! And Bill looking as well as can be. Gentlemen, always a pleasure!"

"You're right, we ain't too popular in Blackwater," Dutch nodded as the men seemed to be gathered in a small circle to talk about future plans.

"We left a lot of money there," Arthur said to Josiah as he was now sitting on the steps to the general store, finding the steps more comfortable than the bench.

"And young Sean it seems," Josiah added, referring to the young, cocky Irishman who had been with the gang and captured by the lawmen in Blackwater.

"Sean? You found him?" Dutch asked.

"Yes, I have!" Josiah nodded. "He's being held by some bounty hunters trying to see how much money the government will pay them. I know he's in Blackwater, but there's talk of him moving," He explained.

"Well, if we step foot in Blackwater well, then we're dead men for sure," Arthur warned, groaning as a sharp pain entered his jaw as he almost struggled to stand up.

"They'll be Pinkertons all over the place, but if he's alive we gotta try," Dutch said.

"Yeah, of course,"

"It's you they want, Dutch," Josiah warned.

"Always is. Charles, go find out what you can, carefully. Josiah, take Javier. Arthur, go get yourself cleaned up. Join them when you're ready," Dutch commanded.

"Well, what about me?" Bill asked, walking with Dutch as he dismissed himself.

"Well exactly, what about you?"

"W-What does that mean?"Bill questioned.

"Ah, Bill. Come on,"

Arthur shook his head as he made his way to the barrel of water in the alleyway, quickly cleaning his face before heading to the hotel to pay happily for a piping hot bath and a warm bed to stay in.

#arthurmorgan #arthur morgan #reddeadredemption2 #minniebarlow #Youtube

[hellomissmabel]

When he was mine

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mild angst. Brief mention of sexy times but not the actual thing.

Word count: 2.460

Summary: Nat and the girls help you get over Bucky.

A/N: Written for @caplanbuckybarnes her song challenge! I love you sweetie <3 Inspired by Dua Lipa’s “New Rules”.

You and Bucky met at a housewarming party. Turned out you had a lot of friends in common and much to Nat’s surprise, you were never really formally introduced. Well, you knew Steve, Bucky’s best friend, since you both studied at the same college. And you had a fling with Sam, Steve’s roommate, who you don’t see that often anymore after he moved to Chicago after his graduation.

You and Tony don’t get along very well so you stay clear from his parties, as did Bucky who had a beef with Tony when they were both after the same girl. Occasionally you get together with Clint but married life keeps him too busy to actual attend any parties so it’s been a while since you got to catch up. So when Pietro moved out of his sister’s apartment and got his own place, Natasha decided this was the perfect opportunity for all your friends to get together again and for you to finally get introduced to the brunet.

You two had a lot of mutual interests and soon you started dating. But last year when you decided to take the next big step and move in together, you and Bucky fell out after a serious discussion about your hopes and dreams and the future you were hoping to share together. Even though you still were like two peas in a pod, you both struggled with the details of the plan you were designing together.

As a city girl, you wanted to stay in the city. Coming from a small family, you wanted to have at least two or three kids. And considering you grew up watching your mother struggle with a job she loathed, you made it your goal in life to also find a job you love. Bucky, having grown up in the city as well, felt it was time for a change and was considering a suburban house. He also wasn’t particularly picky when it came to job-hunting not to mention the fact that having even one kid already scared him to death.

Talkin' in my sleep at night Makin' myself crazy (Out of my mind, out of my mind) Wrote it down and read it out Hopin' it would save me (Too many times, too many times) My love, he makes me feel like nobody else Nobody else But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself I tell myself

And so one Friday night, after another fight, you found yourself knocking on Natasha’s door. “Nattie?,” you cried softly. “Nattie! Are you there?”

When she opened the door, your tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes were the first thing she noticed. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?,” she cooed kindly as she guided you inside, sitting you down on the couch and getting you a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, holding you tightly.

“Bucky and I got into a fight again,” you sniffed loudly into Nat’s handkerchief. “We’re through.”

“Did you fight about his job again?,” she asked and you shook your head no. “About wanting to start a family then?” Again you said no. “Was it about the house you went to look at with me? Didn’t he like it?”

“He did like it,” you finally piped up after you wiped away some excess snot from your nose, embarrassed that Natasha had to see you in a state like this. Shrugging, you confessed the real problem to her. “He just didn’t like me going to an open house behind his back. But I was just trying to save our relationship, Nat.”

Natasha sighs a little, a glum expression dulling down her fiery brown eyes. “If I had known you left Bucky in the dark on your little house hunt, I would never have agreed to go with you. You know Bucky has trust issues.”

You reach out to take her hand and she squeezes it gently. “I think – I think Bucky doesn’t love me anymore. I think he’s just staying with me because we’ve been together for so long. I just - I love him so much, Nattie. But I couldn’t do it anymore… so I ended it. Told him to pack his bags and go stay at Stevie’s until he finds something else of his own.”

Desperately, your eyes search her gentle eyes for understanding. And she understands, she really does. But she also knows Bucky and much to her dismay, you’re probably right. He’s never been with anyone else but Y/N and neither has Y/N ever been with anyone else but Bucky. The only difference is that to Y/N, Bucky is the one and only. Whereas Bucky approaches love the same way he approaches life: come what may.

“What do you say if I call the girls, hm?,” she suggests, pressing her lips to your temple and murmuring sweet nothings to calm down the shaking of your hands. “Sharon, Wanda, Maria,... we’ll have a girl’s night out. We’ll pamper each other and drinks lots of cocktails. It’ll cheer you up.”

Thinking it over, you gaze down at your fidgeting fingers. “Okay. Call the girls. I don’t wanna be all alone tonight.”

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

About half an hour later, you’re sitting in a circle doing Maria’s hair while Nat is braiding yours. When it’s girls’ night, everyone takes care of everyone. There’s hair, nails and make-up first. Then it’s looking for the right outfit to party. And all the way through, there are cosmopolitans. But while sipping on your fourth glass of the evening, your phone starts to buzz yet before you can answer it, Sharon snatches it away from you.

“Don’t you dare answer it,” she warns you as she reads Bucky’s name on the display.

“Oh hell no,” Nat chimes in, taking the phone from Sharon and threatening to drop it in her laundry bag. “You’re not answering that! He’s only calling you because he’s drunk and alone.”

“You don’t know that,” you try to argue with Nat but all the girls agree. Bucky wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t go on a pub crawl after something bad happens to him. And when you’ve lived with someone for as long as Bucky has with Y/N, the loneliness kicks in twice as hard once the realisation has sunk in.

“If you’re gonna get over him, we’re gonna have to set some ground rules. First one being, no phone calls. You’re not some broken creature that hides behind her boyfriend, you’re a strong woman that doesn’t need a man in order to stand her ground.”

I keep pushin' forwards, but he keeps pullin' me backwards (Nowhere to turn) no way (Nowhere to turn) no Now I'm standing back from it, I finally see the pattern (I never learn, I never learn) But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself I tell myself I do, I do, I do

Nevertheless, not even an hour later, the doorbell rings and Maria moves to open the door. You hear a faint “hi” and Maria’s voice shouting out for Natasha. You can hear forced whispering and what sounds like a heated argument, which peaks your interests even more about who’s visiting Nat at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. So you get up from your spot on the couch and take a peek, your mind and body freezing once you see Bucky standing in front of a very annoyed Maria and an extremely pissed off Natasha.

“Please let me in. I gotta talk to her,” Bucky pleads to both girls with those signature puppy dog eyes. But that trick doesn’t work on them, it only does on you. And very well so, because if it wasn’t for Sharon gently guiding you back to the living room you would’ve rushed to him. But Bucky has already spotted you and jumps past Maria, forcefully pushing Nat aside so he can reach you. He has barely touched your arm when Sharon positions herself in between your body and his, preventing Bucky from taking any further action and at the same time allowing Wanda to escort him back outside.

“Please! Y/N!,” are his desperate cries for your attention. “I love you! Please! Please don’t let it end like this!”

“Ground rule number two: don’t let him in, you’ll just have to kick him out again,” Nat tells you after throwing the door in Bucky’s face. You can still hear him wailing outside her door as she turns up the volume of the music, “Despacito” blaring through the speakers and dulling out Bucky’s pleas.

Eventually you hear a car outside driving away and Sharon looks outside the window to confirm it’s Bucky’s. “I’m so sorry, love,” she says sadly, her eyes cast downwards.

“Don’t cry over that Brooklyn boy.” Wanda envelopes you in her warm embrace. “He’s not worth it.”

“Let’s finish up on our make-up and go out, have some fun. What do you say, darling?,” Nat chimes in, trying to make her voice sound more chipper than she’s feeling.

And so that night you went out to party. You and your girlfriends and a whole lot of alcohol to numb your feelings. Even though Nat insisted it was more than okay for you to stay over and spend the night at her place, you didn’t feel like sleeping on a stranger’s couch when the heartbreak was still so fresh. So you went back home, shed your clothes and dove into your bed only to cry yourself to sleep.

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

But as the days went by and spring turned into summer, you felt yourself getting used to the single life. You even started dating again, your heart getting less heavy the more time you spent with your new love. That is, until that unfortunate morning you ran into Bucky at the grocery store. It was awkward at first, a mere handshake enough to tear open all those old wounds. You exchanged a polite smile and there was no small talk, just a simple hello. You wanted this no never occur again, but fate disagreed with you. So you kept running into each other, at the local café where you got your morning fix of coffee, or at the pub where you went for drinks with your co-workers after your shift had ended. It seemed as if life was trying to offer you a helping hand. And so you decided to be friends.

Nat had warned you for him. “Being just friends with Bucky will never work out.” And it didn’t, because as soon as you had agreed to go the movies with a couple of your mutual friends, you found yourself in his bed the exact same night. This worked for you and Bucky for a year or so until the pressure to be more than friends with benefits increased to a point you were losing yourself in a relationship you didn’t want to be in anymore. A second break-up was imminent, even though you never really were together.

Practice makes perfect I'm still tryna' learn it by heart (I got new rules, I count 'em) Eat, sleep, and breathe it Rehearse and repeat it, 'cause I (I got new, I got new, I...)

One Friday night, there was a soft knock on your door. “Y/N/N?,” she cried softly. “Y/N/N! Are you there?”

When you opened the door, Sharon’s tear-stained face and red-rimmed eyes were the first thing you noticed. “Oh, honey, what’s wrong,” you cooed kindly as you guided her inside, sitting you down on the couch and getting her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, holding her tightly.

“Steve and I got into a fight again,” she sniffed loudly into your handkerchief. “We’re through.”

“Did you fight about that job offer in Washington D.C. again?,” you asked and she shook her head no. “About your wish to spend Christmas with your family in Atlanta instead of with his in Boston?” Again Sharon said no. “Was it about not wanting a shared account?”

“He found my pregnancy test,” she finally piped up after she wiped away some excess snot from her nose. Shrugging, she confessed the real problem to you. “I know how much he wants a child and I just – I just can’t get pregnant, Y/N. It was another negative pregnancy test and he was so disappointed. I could see his face light up and then fall in just mere seconds.”

You reach out to take her hand and you squeeze it gently. “He was disappointed in me and I just couldn’t take it any longer, so I broke things off.”

Kissing the top of her head, you whisper into her hair. “Do you remember Nat’s two ground rules? From when Bucky and I broke up?”

Sharon nods and lays her head to rest on your shoulder. “Rule number one,” she says solemnly. “Don’t pick up the phone.”

“That’s right,” you encourage kindly, “because he’ll probably be at a bar with Bucky, drunk off his ass and feeling lonely. And if he shows up at your door, don’t let him in. That’s rule number two. You’ll just have to kick him out again.”

Sighing a little, you remember the heartbreak and hardship you went through after your first separation from Bucky and the mistakes you made that led to your second one. So you add a third rule to the equation, lifting up her chin and smiling tenderly at the distraught girl in your arms.

“And rule number three, don’t be his friend. You’ll just end up in his bed in the morning and you can’ get over him if you’re under him.” Sharon chuckles a little at this. “Now let’s call the girls, hm? Nattie, Wanda, Maria,… We’ll have a girls’ night. It’ll make you feel better,” you say before dialling the first number.

One, don't pick up the phone You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone Two, don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three, don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't getting over him

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