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porkchop-ao3 · 4 years

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 55)

Choke

Reader has a word with Dutch. Couple of warnings for this one: one use of a racial slur, and some violence.

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Dutch seemed pleased when he returned from Saint Denis with Sadie, rolling in on a wagon dressed up like a lawman. I was stunned to see Sadie in a fancy, floofy dress and a big hat, though it was spattered with blood. They climbed down and Sadie immediately strutted off to get changed, her face twisted with a lingering vengeful look, as Dutch spread his arms wide and puffed himself up to get everyone's attention.

"It's done. Colm O'Driscoll is dead and gone. This is it, people, this is our first real step towards freedom, we just struck one huge thing off the list," he called out, strolling leisurely through the camp towards his tent. "We just gotta make one big bang and then we're gone."

I watched him from my spot on Arthur's bed, hearing Micah's deviant, low titter of a laugh.

"What'd I tell you, boss? This ain't nothing we can't get away from, with our strongest boys we'll be on our way," he said, swinging back on a chair with his feet propped up on the table.

"I can taste it, Mr. Bell. Ain't it a beautiful thing?" Dutch responded, then slipped away into the privacy of his tent. Micah glanced at me then, catching my eye for a moment, mouth curling into a smile. I rose to my feet and made my way over to the back of the women's wagon where Sadie was just finishing getting changed, smoothing out her shirt where it was tucked into her pants.

"Hey Sadie, how'd it go?" I asked.

"It got bloody. But Colm's dead, and whatever lackeys he brought with him, they're dead too," she told me bluntly. "Finally. I've been waiting for the day that those bastards paid for what they did to my husband."

"Good. I hope it hurt," I said quietly, looking towards the ground at the mention of her husband. I never knew how to act.

"You should've seen the look on his face when he realised he weren't getting away, pretty sure he shit himself before they pulled the lever," she gave a mean, scratchy laugh and I had to smile at her getting to see some justice finally delivered. "Bastard deserves everything he gets, what he did to me."

"Couldn't agree more. And I'm glad he's gone, maybe now we'll have some damn breathing space," I sighed.

"Maybe. But I got a word of warning for ya', Dutch got a little pissed off when we was in the bar before we watched Colm swing," she began, picking up her gun belt and buckling it around her waist, retrieving her pistol and sitting down to clean it, "Arthur said some things and Dutch weren't happy."

I frowned and sat down next to her. "What was said, exactly?"

"Arthur asked what the grand plan was, and when he didn't exactly jump for joy at Dutch's answer, his loyalty was called into question. I tried to step in and tell them to buck up, but they butted heads. Well, as much as Arthur'd dare to butt heads with Dutch, said just 'cause he's thinking about the others, don't mean he's disloyal to him. Dutch weren't having it though," Sadie explained, digging her nail into the nooks and crannies of her gun with the cloth. "He weren't particularly kind to Arthur."

I narrowed my eyes, my jaw clenching.

"Dutch said apparently he knows that you and him are talking 'bout leaving," she met my eyes at that, and my chest squeezed uncomfortably. "Arthur looked like he was about to throw up. In the end he just dropped it, and we had to go to the gallows anyway and nothin' more was said about it."

"And where's Arthur now?"

"Ain't sure. We split up and went separate ways after the chaos, I imagine he'll be back later," she told me, and I nodded, rising to my feet.

"Excuse me," I said, and turned to leave.

I was half way towards Dutch's tent when I realised I'd left my cane behind, I didn't stop though. I very nearly ripped back the canvas and barged in, but the possibility that he could be undressed in there halted me, and instead I stopped just shy of the tent and took a breath.

"Dutch? May I come in?" I called out once I'd gathered myself. There was a pause, then movement, and the canvas peeled back. Dutch looked a little confused, of course, I'd never really gone out of my way to speak to him in all the months I'd been around. "I'd like to speak with you."

"Of course," he said, his tone jumping up with a politeness that unnerved me.

He stepped aside and let me enter. I'd never really been inside his tent. They were far more luxurious lodgings than the rest of the camp had, that was for sure, with animal furs on the floor and everything. Dutch gestured for me to take a seat on the bed, and he stood before me with his arms crossed. I sat up straight, my hands clasped in my lap.

"I want Arthur to leave with me," I said, coming right out with it. "He knows this, and I ain't gonna try and hide it from anyone."

"Is that so?" His brows jumped up. I kept my eyes focused steadily on his.

"Yes."

"And why exactly are you telling me this, may I ask?"

"I wanna make it clear that it's me that wants it, it's me who's asking Arthur to come away with me. And Arthur is… he cares a lot about this gang. He ain't going anywhere," I explained to him, my voice as strong as I could manage despite the fact I was so nervous my hands shook.

"Well, my dear, if you don't wanna be in this gang anymore, you know where the figurative door is. Nobody's stopping you," he cocked a brow, crossing his arms.

"It ain't that. It's not that I want to leave the gang. I just– I want Arthur to be safe. And I want to be with him, where we can try and be free from all those people that're after him," I clarified, shaking my head, "but he ain't prepared to leave all of you, he's known you longer and I ain't gonna force him to choose between us. So I'm staying."

"I still don't know why this has anything to do with me. It sounds like you and Arthur have discussed this at length just between the two of you and have come to a compromise, what do you expect me to do with this information, Miss?" His face was hard but his tone was easy and polite. He had a way of doing that…

"Because I believe you might begin to question Arthur. You heard him the night of my injuries, he mentioned us leaving, but I know for sure he was only saying that in the moment. He didn't really mean it, and I know this because I called him out and asked him to stick to his words. He couldn't," in a way I felt guilty for painting Arthur out as being against leaving with me. It wasn't entirely true, but Dutch needed to hear it. "I just have to tell you this, the truth, so that Arthur ain't punished for my sake," I added.

"You think I'd punish him for wanting to leave?"

"Yes, actually, I do. I think you'd resent him, after all you've done for him," I admitted, attempting to stroke his ego just a bit; I thought it'd help my case, "and I ain't here to tell you whether you should or shouldn't be mad at something like that. I'm here to tell you that Arthur ain't thinking like you think he is. Lord knows I wish he was, but I ain't that lucky."

"But my guess is you're gonna keep on working on him, try and get him to see sense?" He tilted his head, his brow cocking again.

I lifted my shoulders lightly. "I will keep on telling him what I want and hope that someday he'll want it too."

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss, but from where I'm standing, if what you're telling me is true, maybe Arthur ain't all that committed to you. Is it in your best interests to put yourself in the firing line for a man who won't commit to you, one-hundred percent?" He proposed, his head tilting down, eyes peering up through his lashes, partially obscured by the brim of the hat he wore. "Maybe you should… cut your losses and get out of here before it's too late for you, all these Pinkertons about. You've already been injured. Perhaps you gotta start thinking about what's best for you."

"Like Molly did?" I don't know why I said it. I don't know what possessed me, but it gave Dutch pause, his expression flinching to mild surprise before being concealed behind indifference.

"Yes, like Molly did," he responded after some time, voice low and level. "You should know that a leopard don't change its spots, no matter how pretty a lady comes along. This wouldn't be the first time Arthur's chosen the gang over a woman, you likely won't be an exception, and I just don't wanna see a sweet thing like you get hurt," the treacle in his tone made me nauseous, but I forced a smile.

"I appreciate the concern. But I'm not going anywhere, Arthur might not be leaving the gang for me but I'll wait for him, even if that means I'm waiting the rest of our lives," I told him. "Because I love him, and I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

"Oh, that's sweet. I usually like a little naivety in a girl, though it does so often border on wilful ignorance," he said.

"So I'm ignorant?"

"I never said that," he shook his head innocently, brows curving up, "but perhaps you're beatin' a dead horse, so to speak."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're in love with him… and he loves you, I ain't got much doubt about that. I know just what a fool that man can be when he's taken by a woman, after all I was there when he was getting pulled in two directions by Mrs. Linton. He loved Mary, too. But Arthur never could leave this gang then, just like he can't now," he said to me, eyes boring into me, I'd been staring at his face so long in the muted light of the tent that his face seemed to start to warp and twist into something ugly and unsettling.

"So you really think I should leave and not look back because Arthur ain't never gonna come away with me?" I kept my expression neutral and my tone flat, trying not to give away anything about how I was feeling.

"I think that might serve you better in the long run, but that's just my advice. Take it or leave it."

"And you'd tell me that, even after you said yourself that you don't doubt Arthur loves me, you'd hurt him like that?"

"It wouldn't be me doing the hurting, my dear, I ain't got nothing to do with yours and his relationship, this is all up to you," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You came in here wanting to speak to me, and I just gave my advice."

"Well, wanting to speak with you and asking for your advice are two different things. I just came in here to tell you not to treat Arthur like dirt because of me."

"Hm, right you are. Well, unsolicited as it may be, my advice was given. You've worked hard for this gang, it'd be a real shame for you to throw your life away, risk it because of a romance that you can find with any old feller, ones that don't have to run away from anything for you. I love Arthur, I do, but the man is the furthest thing from a good suitor," he laughed and shook his head.

I was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Then I took a breath and rose to my feet.

"Well, thank you for your time."

"My pleasure, why I do believe this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. If you choose to stick around, I'd be remiss if we didn't do this more often," he chuckled, his overly proper and friendly manner wearing thin.

"I'll leave you to whatever you were doing, take care, now," I nodded to him before letting myself out of the tent, taking a cooling breath once I was out in the open again and away from his suffocating presence. There was something about Dutch that made it hard to relax and breathe, he dominated any space just by existing, took up too much room. I didn't like it at all.

"Workin' on Dutch, now, are we? You like the fellers, don't you?" Micah sniggered from his spot at the table by Dutch's tent.

"Leave her alone, Micah," Javier sighed from a ways behind him, taking a drink of water from one of our drinking barrels. I stopped dead and levelled my gaze to Micah.

"What? She's already screwing one of 'em, and she's getting mighty close to the likes of Marston and that darkie, always fluttering her lashes at the lot of them," he continued anyway, and I felt Javier looking at me. "Dutch even got a glimpse at Shady Belle. Remember that, sweetheart? Yeah, he told me about that."

I walked towards him, sitting down on the chair opposite. I kept my eyes so focused on his, to the point that he started looking uncomfortable. He glanced away for a second, then back at me. He almost looked confused.

"Keep going. Tell me more about myself, what else I been doing?" I asked.

Micah's mouth hung open just so, his brow furrowed a bit.

"So, I'm fucking Arthur," I counted it off on my finger, "flirting with John and– I'm sorry, who else was it?"

"Charles, I think he meant," Javier answered for him.

"Charles. Course, you didn't use his name. Anyway, Dutch saw me at Shady Belle, sure, but what was I doing?"

"You were prancing around on top of Morgan like a whore," Micah spat venomously.

"Like a whore? So, I looked experienced, at least. That's flattering," I nodded, and Javier snorted. "What else then?"

Micah hesitated.

"Sneaking into Dutch's tent," Javier added, and I glanced up to see him grinning, enjoying whatever I was doing… I wasn't really sure what that was but it was happening with a flurry of adrenaline and the urge to wind Micah up.

"Oh yeah, trying my luck with him," I nodded, "thank you, Mr. Escuella, Mr. Bell seems to have forgotten his tongue."

"Then there was you being a little cock tease with me," Micah finally said, attempting to flip it to his gain.

"Cock tease? But according to you I'm dishing it out left and right, I ain't one for teasing," I frowned comically. "Why'd it be any different with you Mr. Bell? Surely I should be throwing myself at you like I do with everyone else."

I raised my brows at him expectantly but he kept his mouth shut.

"No, it's 'cause that was all in your head. Truth is I wouldn't touch you with a barge-pole if your limp dick was the last damn thing on Earth and my life depended on sucking it for sustenance, you're disgusting," I hissed through gritted teeth, letting a fair amount of pent up anger out at him as I rose to my feet and leaned over the table towards him. I heard Javier choke at my foul language.

The next thing I knew, my hair was being yanked; Micah's hand wrapped around the braid that hung forwards as I leaned, dragging me down to his level. I cried out in shock and pain.

"Someone ought to teach you some goddamn manners you nasty little girl," he growled, his face far closer than I ever wanted it. A surge of adrenaline sent my hand up to his neck where I grappled and squeezed whatever I could get purchase on, doing whatever came naturally to get him to let go of me.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me!" I screamed, wrenching my head back out of his loosened grip, shoving him back into his chair by his throat.

"Woah, woah! Jesus Christ!" Javier was there, a hand on my shoulder, shoving me back, one on Micah's, keeping him in his chair as he choked and rubbed at his neck.

"Fucking psycho!" Micah's hoarse yell was my only evidence I hadn't done any real damage.

"You listening, shit head? You fucking touch me again and I won't let go next time," I spat, whirling around to storm off, slamming straight into someone coming up behind me. I stepped back and looked up to see Arthur's panicked, wide eyes, mouth hanging open. Shame washed through me.

"What's going on out here?" Dutch yelled from the parted flaps of his tent.

"Nothing! Just fucking leave me alone!" I yelled, storming off away from it all, my face burning. Arthur's hand tried to catch my wrist but I jerked it away, not wanting to be kept in that place any longer. I headed down the slope towards the river, the only place I could think to go. Half-way down I regretted not going to the horses, but I didn't even know if I could mount a horse with my leg. I wasn't even really supposed to be walking without support, but it was a bit late for that.

I marched down the edge of the river, my feet slamming down on the rocks below loudly. I stopped soon, the adrenaline wearing off and bringing pain to my attention. My leg throbbed with my quick pulse, but my scalp did too. He'd pulled hard, way harder than I thought. I hobbled over to a rock and slumped down, taking in a shaky, stuttered breath as I released the ribbon that held my braid in, fingering the strands apart and shaking my hair loose. I pushed my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my tender scalp as more shaky breaths came, I felt like I couldn't quite pull a satisfactory breath, and I buried my head in my hands. I felt out of control, like my fingers were slipping from the situation and I couldn't quite grasp my own peace like I'd managed before.

I was always just about able to keep my head, to go along with things and stop myself from lashing out and snapping at every new blow that came my way. But with Micah… I'd strangled him. Even if it was only for a moment, I had my hand around his throat and I'd squeezed. And for what? He'd teased me about speaking to Dutch, it was mild, really. Sure, he'd pulled my hair but I'd provoked him, hadn't I? It was one bad decision after the other–

I was alone for only a few moments before inevitably the crunch of pebbles underfoot came close.

"Please just don't look at me. I wanna be alone," I said.

"I ain't sure if I can do that," it was Arthur, of course. "I'm not leaving you out here with a bad leg and no gun," he added, and I realised he was right. I hadn't equipped my holster that morning, I hadn't felt like wearing it most days while I was sitting around camp.

"I don't wanna go back there," I whispered, hiding my face from him.

"That's okay. I ain't gonna make you," he replied gently, the crunching of stones drawing nearer until I felt his hand scrubbing back and forth across the top of my shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

I heard his breath as he crouched down to my level, his hand on my shoulder, clearly wanting me to look at him.

"He yanked my hair, pulled me right up close to him," I breathed.

"Yeah I saw that part, I was on my way over there to knock a few more teeth loose. But you had it covered, didn't you?" He sounded amused, almost.

"Don't. I ain't proud," I shook my head.

"What did he say?"

I paused. If I told him the complete truth I'd have to explain how I'd been to speak to Dutch. I didn't think Arthur would be that pleased about me interfering like I had. But I didn't want to lie or hide things from him…

"He was being a bastard because I was speaking to Dutch. He made some comments about how I'm getting all cozy with the men here… it weren't a big deal, I pushed him, it got out of hand," I sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean, getting all cozy?" He snorted humourlessly and I was relieved that he didn't question why I'd spoken to Dutch.

"Who knows? Apparently just speaking to a man means I'm sleeping with him, or trying to. You know how he is, he's speaking out of his ass and trying to wind me up. I'm ashamed to say he was successful."

"Don't be ashamed. It's been tough these few weeks, everyone's been lashing out. I don't blame you one bit," he said, rubbing at my shoulder soothingly. My heart squeezed and soared for him and I lifted my head, closing the space between us and hugging him tightly, pressing my face into his neck.

"I don't know why I did it. I snapped. I don't wanna hurt no one, not even Micah, I can't believe I–" I stopped, breathing deep to stop myself from crying.

"You didn't hurt him, he's fine. Well enough to talk shit before I came after you," he assured me but it didn't really help.

"That was so ugly of me, I should just rise above it and walk away. This ain't like me, you're right. About what you said before about seeing yourself change in this gang, maybe that's happening," I leaned back to look at him. He was lost for words, his brows curved in distress and his mouth hanging wordlessly open. "I think I just need a break. I've been there since we arrived. I ain't been out and away from everyone for some time now."

"You want me to get the horses? We can ride out– can you ride?"

"I think I'd be okay side-saddle."

"You can ride with me, then, we can set up a camp elsewhere. You want that?" He cupped my face, thumbs stroking the tops of my cheeks. I nodded my head. "Okay. I'll pack us some things and come get you. You'll be alright here for a couple minutes?" He glanced around as he spoke. I nodded my head.

"Are you sure? You don't have to drop everything for me."

"I ain't got nothing to drop. And even if I did, it ain't no sacrifice spending time with you, you know that," he pressed a kiss to my forehead before getting up. "I'll be as quick as I can, princess."

"Can we take Rayna? Been a while since she's been out," I caught him before he left. He smiled at me fondly and nodded, then carried on back towards camp.

I wasn't waiting long, as he soon returned, walking up the path on the back of Rayna. I heaved myself up off the rock and gingerly headed over to him; he dismounted to help me, taking my arm and helping me up the craggy incline to the path where Rayna was waiting. He grabbed something from the saddlebag and handed it to me. My gun belt.

"Put that on, princess. I don't want you going 'round without it in these parts," he warned, and I nodded and fastened it around my hips, taking my revolver out momentarily to refamiliarise myself with the weight of it in my hand.

"Okay, let's go," I said, and Arthur lifted me onto Rayna's back, then joined me.

"Anywhere in particular you wanna go?" He asked once we were mounted.

"Hmm, there's a real pretty place north from here, if we follow up the Kamassa river. Brandywine Drop, there's this waterfall there, apparently it's beautiful. Maybe we could camp there?" I suggested, and Arthur immediately began down the path.

"You camped there before?"

"No, I ain't even ever been there. My dad liked to fish up there, he told me about it, showed me all the places he went on a map. I had planned to go up there one day but I never got around to it."

"Well, there might be some predators up there. I ain't worried about that, I've camped in all sorts of places; I just remember how you was when we went on that hunting trip with Charles," he said. I chuckled, squeezing my arms around his midriff, leaning my cheek against his shoulder blade.

"I was okay once I was sleeping next to you," I reminded him, and he hummed softly in acknowledgement.

"Okay then, we'll check it out," he said, and we rode peacefully northward, following the babbling water of the Kamassa river as closely as the path would allow.

"Sadie told me that Colm's gone," I said quietly, and felt Arthur nod. "How're you feeling?"

"It was a little messy. But it's done, and I'm glad about it. It was nice to see him swinging from a rope after what he did to me," he huffed. "My shoulder still don't feel totally right. Maybe it never will."

"It don't? You never said that," I lifted my head and gingerly rubbed at the shoulder in question.

"Feels pretty stiff, can't move it as much as I can the other. Still does most of what I want it to, but I'm reminded of it every time I lift my arms past a certain point. More of a nuisance than anything," he murmured. I silently kissed it, not knowing what to say. "But I lived, that's more than most people who pissed Colm O'Driscoll off can say."

"I'd say you're lucky, but I can't bring myself to," I whispered, sliding my hand around his front, slipping it between the open top few buttons of his shirt and union suit to press against his chest, to feel his heartbeat. "You've been through enough that it'd be in bad taste."

"I got you getting me through it. I don't say it enough but I can't tell you how much it helps having you, I don't know how I'd be feeling if I was alone," he said under his breath. "The way I was after Guarma, when I– when my emotions boiled over like that. If you weren't there I don't know who I'd turn to. No one's ever seen me like that."

I didn't know what to say again. I felt stupid, even a little bit rude not saying anything at all, but all the words that came to mind weren't enough.

"I love you. And the thought of you is what's getting me through this; watching Dutch change into someone I barely recognise. Watching this gang become more and more strained, all this tension, like we're all moments away from a massive blow out. When I close up our tent and settle in with you for the night, those times with just you and me, it's calm. I… I need that. Right now it's all I've got," he said, just talking as if he was writing in his journal. He didn't need a response, I sensed that, but I wanted to give him one.

"There ain't a single moment I regret joining this gang. Even when my leg hurts and Micah's pushing my buttons, or the Pinkertons are firing bullets at us, I never, ever think about my life before I joined and long for it. You're worth everything we're put through. I'd stay no matter what. You're worth it and more," I told him. "And you deserve all the love this world can give. You're precious, you really are, I don't care what the newspapers write or anything like that."

I snuggled closer, wrapping my arms around him as firmly as they'd allow, pulling him against my chest like I never wanted to let go; because I didn't. I longed to be like this always and every moment I was allowed to taste what it was like I drank it up with vigour. Arthur was precious. He was a treasure to me, something I wished I could keep safe though I knew it was out of my hands whenever he left for another job. My heart ached with dread when I thought about it because I'd never been so full of love for a single person. I never knew I could feel such a way. It was both beautiful and terrifying.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #atink #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #reader insert

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splat-dragon · 4 years

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heavy is the head that gets no sleep ~Cold is the Night, Oh Hellos

Whumptober 2020, #23: What's A Whumpee Gotta Do to Get Some Sleep Around Here?: "Sleep Deprivation" "Exhaustion"

Arthur couldn’t remember the last time he slept.

He’d tried, but no one would let him. Every time he so much as looked at his tent, Miss Grimshaw or Dutch was there, nipping at him for not contributing enough, or Pearson was there, heckling him to go out hunting.

@whumptober2020

Arthur was so, so tired.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept.

Every time, he wanted to scream. ‘Look at the ledger! Look at my goddamn name!’ he was contributing more than anyone else, but they acted like he was just sitting on his ass. Like it was him getting drunk, sitting around the campfire, night after night, instead of skipping sleep to bring in supplies and money and provisions. Last time he’d lost his temper - once Dutch walked off, of course, he was no fool - and nearly thrown the ledger when he’d found he was right, his name had been on the page thirty nine out of the fifty times on the front-back spread, all jewelry or decent amounts of money or carcasses, not goddamn bat wings (really Marston?!) or nickles and dimes.

And it was another one of those nights.

He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d slept.

Three nights?

Four?

Five?

His stomach was growling but he was too tired to eat.

He finished signing his name on the ledge - Arthur Silver Pocket Watch $8.00 - for the ninth time in a row, making sure his satchel was empty before turning on his heel, sending up a small prayer before beginning to make his way to his tent.

“Arthur!”

Oh no.

“I have a lead I need you to follow up on.” Dutch. Why was it always Dutch.

He looked longingly at the cot he could see beckoning at him from his tent,

“Please son, I need you to do this for me. It’s very important.”

He sighed, knew Dutch wouldn’t let it drop. “Alright, Dutch.”

The man’s face lit up, and he clasped Arthur on the shoulder. Arthur wobbled, had to catch himself, but Dutch didn’t notice, already digging through his pocket, shoving a piece of paper in his hand. “Here, there’s a man named Jackson Ricketts at this address, he’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“...okay Dutch.” but he was already walking away, picking up his most recent book off the table he kept near the flaps of his tent.

For a moment, all he could do was stand there. Stare at Dutch, plopping down in his chair and leaning over to start reading with Molly. Turn to stare at his cot, then at the ledger. Had he put in what he’d brought back that evening? He was pretty sure he had, but he really couldn’t remember.

Arthur took a moment to fumble through his satchel.

Either he’d put in the jewelry and money he’d brought back, or he’d been robbed.

He was so tired he couldn’t find it in him to care.

But then Javier’s guitar started to play over at the campfire, and he did care. Anger, indignation, started up bright hot in his stomach, how was that fair? He could see Bill sitting near the campfire, and he hadn’t even seen Bill’s name on the ledger!

But just as quickly the anger flickered out, what was the point? He’d just get told he needed to pull his weight, do his part, and then he’d get shoved towards the horses even if he demanded they check the ledger, get told to stop acting like a child, ‘you’re too old to be acting like this, Arthur!’ and then the others would laugh at him, and Micah was over by the fire too, and nothing infuriated him more than seeing that smug bastard laughing at him.

So he threw a last, longing look at his cot, could have sworn he heard it say ��Sleep?” though that could have been his subconscious telling him something, and trudged over to the horses.

Stared blankly at his mare - the O’Driscoll had untacked her.

He had to tack her up.

Fuck, he had to tack her up.

The O’Driscoll had left her saddle on the post right next to her.

Small blessings.

He picked up the saddle, grunting beneath his weight, took a step and proceeded to drop it.

Heard someone laugh - looked up, but no one was looking at him. Scowled, very funny Micah, stooped down and picked it up again, struggling, couldn’t remember the saddle ever being this heavy before. John was laughing, but when he looked up the man had turned away, was staring at the campfire as though he’d never moved, and irritation boiled low in Arthur’s stomach.

Finally managed to fling the saddle onto the horse, throwing it more than setting it down, apologized under his breath and stepped forward, tried to tighten the cinch and

“Even after all these years, can’t even tack up a horse.” Dutch scowled in his ear and he whirled about, bared his teeth the man was going too damn far! but what the hell? He was still sitting over with Molly, showing her something in his book, and he blinked - he must have been more tired than he thought, goddamn was it even safe for him to ride out?

Probably not, but it wasn’t like anyone would listen if he tried to say anything, so he shook his head, ‘Just imagining things,’ and fastened the cinch.

Or, at least, tried to.

He couldn’t get the damn cinch fastened.

His hands were shaking too badly, and the world was doing a funny swirling thing. He took a deep breath, found it oddly shaky and then he wasn’t even trying, was just clutching the cinch in his hands and taking deep breaths, then not even those.

“Arthur?” Hosea’s voice was loud in his ear, too loud, and he flinched, “Arthur son, what’s wrong?” and oh, he’d thought he was imagining things again but then there was a very real hand on his arm, one grasping his chin and forcing him to look up, he hadn’t even realized he’d leaned over, grinding his forehead into her saddle, and wow Hosea was whirling wasn’t he?

“Arthur, you’re crying,” and huh, he hadn’t even realized that, reached up to wipe his face and was startled to find his hand wet, “Son, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“...I can’t do this.” his breath hitched, and he looked at Hosea pleadingly, “Hosea, I’m so tired, I… I can’t… I just want to sleep.”

Hosea couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Arthur so distressed. He was looking at him with nothing shy of sheer desperation. Looking at him as though he needed permission to sleep, tears streaming down his face, breathing becoming more and more labored, hitching as though he couldn’t catch it, “Okay Arthur, okay, you can sleep, just calm down.”

But Arthur’s nostrils flared, face flushing red as he tried - failed - to raise his voice “No I can’t! No one… no one will let me! I-I just… I want to sleep. I haven’t slept in days. Everyone else is… is drinkin’ and partyin’, and I haven’t slept.”

Fury settled, cold as fresh ice, in Hosea’s stomach.

He wanted to storm over to the men that he could see drinking around the campfire. Beginning to slur along to Javier’s singing, celebrating nothing at all, costing them money in beer while bringing in nothing. Wanted to wrench Susan and Pearson and Dutch by the ears - Arthur hadn’t named names or pointed fingers, but it didn’t take a fool to guess who’d caused him to work himself to the edge.

Shit, but he wasn’t blameless. He’d spent the last few days with Arthur when he was in camp (which, he realized with a sinking stomach, wasn't many) and hadn’t seen him sleep, didn’t think he could remember him eating either, and how he had missed how awful he looked he didn’t know. His eyes were bloodshot, his face sunken in. His eyes were so dark he’d thought, when he’d first walked over, that he had had a pair of black eyes, the bags beneath them so heavy even his bags had bags. Even as tears dripped down his face his eyelids sagged as though he were about to fall asleep right there, “Hosea, please, I’m so tired.” but he was fumbling with the cinch again, failing to secure the strap by a mile.

Hosea’s throat clicked on a swallow - what had they done to their son? what had they done to make him think he had to work himself to this point? - and he nodded, “Of course Arthur, come on, let’s get you to bed.” but Arthur didn’t move, instead wavered on his feet, and Hosea’s heart leaped into his throat, lunging to grab his arm and steady him, called out “Mr. Smith! Help me please!” and Charles jogged over from where he’d been on watch, leaning his rifle against a hay bale as he shrugged Arthur’s arm over his shoulder, the man’s head lolling against him.

Arthur was vaguely aware of his arms being thrown over people’s shoulders, of being carried-dragged-a small distance. Of being laid down on something that seemed impossibly soft, wanting to surge up because I need to work! no one else will! but he felt so heavy so surely he could lay down for just a second?

“‘Night Arthur,”

A hand ran through his hair, “Sleep, son,” and his blanket was tucked up to his chin, but he was already long asleep.

Hosea nodded to Charles as they stepped out of Arthur’s tent, rolling his shoulder, protesting at having supported Arthur’s heavy weight, the young man frowning in concern even as he went back to take up his watch.

The older man sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, remembering what Arthur had been mumbling as they carried him back to his tent - most of it had been too nonsensical to make out, but he’d definitely made out one word.

But he didn’t dare risk waking Arthur, so he waited until he was flinging open the man’s tent to boom,

“VAN DER LINDE!”

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reneereadskingdomofash · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on the Ships in Kingdom of Ash

Ok, I’m writing some thoughts on the Ships in Kingdom of Ash. I’ve jumped onto a few posts, but I feel like I’m probably not being clear because well, I talk to people outside of those posts via different channels and so people aren’t getting the full picture.

Not that this matters of course, the internet and tumblr is only a snapshot, but I wanted to write some clear thoughts on the Ships and how I am feeling about them before/during/and now two weeks after having finished the book. 1. perspectives change. 2. Reading other peoples thoughts that might enhance our own understanding happens too. **SPOILERS BELOW CUT**

Rowaelin

Before Koa: Yes, I dig it. Empire of Storms was their peak love story! Heir of Fire gave me all the Angst - love and hate, falling in love with the trainer, Queen of Shadows gave me my reunion and happiness to fight the bad guys and Empire of Storms gave me the sexy times. The Ship had sailed. Then Maeve came in Empire of Storms. And I was worried for my ship, but only because I was worried for the individual parts of the whole. What happens if they die! What happens if Aelin isn’t who she was. What happens to them! they deserve a happily ever after. *insert renee crying lots at the end of Empire of Storms*

During Koa: I was scared. Aelin wasn’t who she was. Rowan was loosing himself in the hunt for her. What was this new thing between Fenrys and her and Rowan was on the outs? What did this mean? Why couldn't she talk? Where was my Aelin!!! Aelin had hardened and I was scared, and Rowan was scared and it made me think - she’s going to die and i’m going to cry. Then Aneille happened and Aelin almost came back. She was as close to the old Aelin as I think was possible given the trauma that she went through. Rowan didn’t care. He would have loved her anyway. Such a pure ship. And then they go on to save the world. Once Aelin had forged the lock, I wasn’t scared for her anymore. I didn’t think she might die, I didn’t think Rowan would either. The lock felt like it was the start of their happy ending. Sure lots of stuff to go on but the ship was good.

After Koa: Same feelings. I still love Rowaelin. But I got to experience their journey over 4 books! It was satisfying in that they had page time but it didn't detract from the story. So When I’m not enthusiastic about Rowaelin - Its not because I don’t love them, I’ve just been with them a long time. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that they would be ok.

Elorcan (aka the ship I wanted to sail more than any other)

Before Koa: I was scared. I feel so hard into this ship when I read Empire of Storms. And then when I re-read it before KoA I fell harder. I loved Lorcan from the start. A grumpy demi-fae, who is the most powerful, who seems angry, who doesn’t show emotions, who would do anything for his friends. (sure misguided sometimes - but that’s what it boils down to). He came to Rowan’s aid in Heir of Fire. He came for his friend. Not his general. He didn’t have time for Aelin - some mortal girl who people had an interest in. It wasn’t why he came. People who know me - know I have been cheering for Lorcan the past two years. That he’s going to show this side of himself. My morally grey Lorcan. And then Queen of Shadows and Empire of Storms happened. Oh man. Elide, my witch baby standing up for those who cant do it for themselves! She took on Vernon for Kaltain, she is bad-ass! She is the my love just as Lorcan is my love. I’m so torn I love them both. Its a good thing they found each other. Anyway. Elide stands up to him, she fights for herself and others. She protects him and he does the same back. So I love them. Elide threw herself in front of a wolf (Fenrys to save him!) And When Lorcan called for Maeve - my heart sank. Lorcan u big Dummy! I love you but come on! And then the theories started. and I wrote some too. Maybe if I think of the worst possible thing that can happen and put it out into the world it wont happen. Like jinxing the bad stuff. Lorcan “SALVATERRE” savior of lands- does that mean he will sacrifice himself??? Honestly my biggest fear going in.

During Koa: Kingdom of Ash was a roller-coaster for my ship. I was so invested in everything they did. I paid way too much attention to their sections than other ships. - honestly I skim read nestaq scenes (who I love). which is bad I know. but elorcan for life apparently. And Lorcan was being sneaky and trying to help Elide be comfortable (sure more period talk but what ever) because he had been traveling with her for months and months and knew she needed stuff. He shows love by doing. Not always doing the right thing (his decision making skills need work) - but he tries. Elide was a bitch at the start. Just going to say it. Sure she might have been justified, but sometimes you don’t need to voice all the nasty things in your head. And I got mad at her. Then she basically said she wouldn’t care if Lorcan died. And his heart broke and my heart broke and I was upset and probably crying. AND THEN THE BATTLE OF ANEILLE HAPPENED AND I CRIED!!! AND I SCREAMED AT MY BOOK. Direct quote from my notes: “ P500 - NOT HAPPY! Lorcan!!!! OMG NOT HAPPY! LORCAN JUST DROPPED HIS SHEILDS - fucking egg! Omg ahhh! Crap. Crap crap.” I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have dropped his shields if Elide hadn’t said such horrible things to him and he didn’t feel like he needed to die. So I was mad, fucking live you dork. Its just a girl! I ship you two, but if You are both going to be Dorks then I don’t! So when Elide went to go find him I was like - OMG YES U DO LOVE HIM... direct quote from my notes: “ I'm crying .... Elide- "I will always find you", running down the stairs... oh it hurts.... please please be ok .... Ahhh she grabbed chaols horse! A horse for Hellas himself... ahh Lol and then that's explained a couple of pages over Lorcan!!!(517) "Get up" :sobbing emojis: "I promised to always find you. I promised you, and you promised me. I came for you because of it; I am here because of it. I am here for you, do you understand? And if we don't get onto that horse now, we won't stand a chance against that dam. We will die." P 520 :more sobbing emojis: Omg :more sobbing emojis: You have to let me go I love you And I will be with you.... I will be with you always :more sobbing emojis: Lorcan Omg Fucking hell And elide! Yes! You claw at him girl!! That dam! Oof Omg my ship - you are killing me “

Honestly. Such a Rollercoaster. So as you can see I was invested. and then they seemed to tentatively get over each other and what happened and proceeded to get cuter and cuter as the book went on and just gave me warm fuzzies and happiness.

After Koa: I love this ship. I would die for this ship. Fight me! - oh majority of fandom also Like my ship now... cool cool. that’s cool. guess we cool.

Manorian

Before Koa: I dig it. Its alright. Manon eats men for breakfast so Dorian has a little bit of a death wish but I can see that playfulness, that bond from living a similar life. Heirs in name only, for the longest time. I appreciated it, but wasn't strongly invested. I had picked my OTP already. Still enjoy this ship tho - just less invested.

During Koa: I really liked the tentative relationship between Manon and Dorian. I have so many notes about how I think he is a witch tho - so those stand out in my notes more than ship points. I liked that they shared a tent when Manon never did. I liked that Dorian spent time with the 13 developing friendships. It showed that he wanted to know Manon, more than just for sex. But it also cannot be denied that they like sex and used it to avoid talking. That happens in relationships too - not necessarily bad. Its one of the things I actually like about SJM’s ships they aren’t cookie cutter relationships. But I did feel like both Manon and Dorian chose the mission over the relationship (For Now) which is fine too btw. In life we might take a job in a different city and do long distance and still come back to each other. I think Dorian lying to Manon on their last night together by omission is a little sucky. But again. relationships have ups and downs. I’m glad it kinda ended there. Sure they come back together, But I like that its left open. Firstly because they have had the ship burn in flames - their isn’t an “unhappy” ending... the story is still playing out. We just cut away before seeing the end.

After Koa: Wow ok. So people have lots of thoughts on this ship and maybe I should have been paying attention. Why don’t people like it open ended... ok? maybe its a loose end but there is still a book to come (the world of throne of glass) and sure its not a novel about Aelin. This doesn't mean it wont tell us about the encyclopedic history or Ardarlan and the Witch kingdom and how both are run by people who are seeing each other. A certain boy who knows how to use portals to get from one place to the other quickly - doesn't seem like living on opposite sides on the continent is going to be a problem.... maybe that’s just the optimist in me. If they have children - a girl to rule the wastes and a boy to be king. Seems like an amazing fit. I’d really like to see this happen tbh, but this takes time and time KoA didn’t have in the pages - but - maybe - the world of throne of glass will.

Chaorian

Before Koa: Ahh cute - they had their love story i’m happy!

During Koa: Damn I love Yrene. Shes the best. Chaol, you are ok too - but Yrene has your back and is the light relief in your life. Chaol you are too serious - listen to your wife.

After Koa: awwww little wittle chaorene babies. awwwwww daddy Chaol. awww uncle Dorian. <3 <3 so many warm fuzzies.

Nestaq

Before Koa: I ship them so Hard OMG SARTAQ I LOVE YOU. You are a way better fit for Nesryn than Chaol. Man i’m glad she met you.

During Koa: oof Sartaq why u gotta have a Khagan hat on - you are so serious. Good thing Borte is there.

After Koa: Nesryn has no idea what she is in for - Can I please get more Yeran and Borte. Still love Nestaq - but I understand the peak of their story was in Tower of Dawn.

Lysaedion

Before Koa: Oh Man you two. The end of Empire of Storms - Aedion you are a dick! Why! Why! Oh you better just be mad and make it up to her. You love her dang it, you wanted to marry her! Argh. I don’t know how to feel, I like them together - but what is this past Aedion has? What is coming. I don’t want to get my hopes up.

During Koa: Aedion! Aedion! What! Are! you! doing!

I’m so mad at Aedion right now. You better apologise.

Its so complicated to break down. But basically Aedion is being an A-hole to Lysandra and she doesn’t deserve it. She is running herself into the ground and you do that! Aedion! I’m so conflicted, why are you a good dad to Evangeline but an awful person to Lys! AHHH AEDION STOP!

After Koa: I still don’t know how to break down this relationship. It sets off so many red flags for me. - About how someone can be a great dad but an awful partner. - About how someone can be abusive essentially but explain away their actions. - About how other people stand by and watch, when they see this behavior. - About how it is all “circumstances”.

Now - I think its fine for people to work through things and overcome their problems if they want to but that takes time. What Aedion did in Kingdom of Ash did not make me think he should have been able to win Lysandra back as quickly as he did near the end of the book. And it hurts. However I know people in real life who have gone back to people who have treated them badly. So its not uncommon. It is their decision. It just hurts.

Part of me wants them to get a divorce and I’ve made a couple of joke-ish statements about that. But I could have been on Lysaedion’s side if it had a similar ending to Manorian. If it was left hanging, left on a - lets see where this goes. War does strange things to people, and I think Aedion was affected more than others, but he needs to prove he isn’t going to be the man who threw Lysandra out into the cold. In my eyes at least.

I have prob left ships out, and thoughts out but this is a lot of writing for me that’s not counting towards my nanowrimo - hahaha.

#koa spoilers #koa #koa spoiler #ships #ship discourse #elorcan are my otp incase no one knew #hahaha #elorcan #rowaelin #manorian #lysaedion #nestaq #chaorene #renee rambles #sorry its long #no need to read #just thoughts

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mtraki · 5 years

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Prompt: ‘wild rose’

RDR2 one-shot; more of my OC, Miss Catherine-Louise Schofield and Arthur Morgan Requested by: @prowlingthunder

(mention of human anatomy doing human anatomy things in a mildly sexual way... BEWARE!)

“Oh damn,” Miss Catherine swore after opening her parcel. The brown paper contained what looked to Arthur to be two pieces of wood strapped together with leather. It was after releasing the leather straps and pulling apart the wood pieces that she’d uttered the epithet, “ruined.”

Ignoring the looks her outburst received—as they were still standing in the station, not far from the post office window—the young woman sighed, “Now what am I going to do…?”

Arthur stepped near to investigate and discovered the rotted remains of… some kind of plant. A flower, maybe, with dozens and dozens of limp, brown and blackened petals folded in on each other. He tried to imagine what it looked like healthy and couldn’t quite figure it. “… What is it?”

“A rose. Well it’s supposed to be a pressed rose, but it got wet and rotted…”

“… That’s not a rose.” Arthur told her, watching her expression. He didn’t dispute she was far cleverer and more proper educated than he was, and though she often teased him good-naturedly, she never tried to trick or mislead him. He wondered if she somehow… didn’t know what a rose was.

“Well, it doesn’t look like much, no, but it was before it rotted.”

“Excuse me, but I don’ think it was much of a rose even before the rot took it, Miss Schofield…”

“Well!” She huffed, somewhere between honest exasperation and the pantomime of it for effect and amusement, “I didn’t realize you were a connoisseur of decorative horticulture, Mister Morgan! Color me surprised!”

“A ‘coni-what’?”

“A connoisseur. An expert with strict ideas.”

“Nah,” He indicated with one hand she exit the station with him, and used the other to lightly touch her shoulder when she did so, making clear to those giving her long, interested looks that she was in his company and under his protection, “I’m no expert, but I do know a thing or two about wildflowers…”

“Wildflowers…” She echoed, confused, “… Are you making fun of me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Schofield.”

“You are making fun of me!” Was her accusation out in the afternoon sun, “Roses aren’t wildflowers!”

Furrowing his brow, he faced her. From her expression, he could see she was somewhat truly upset about the situation—more likely the ruined product still in her hands than anything he’d said—and surprised that he would take advantage of her disappointment this way.

“I’m getting’ the notion we’re talkin’ about different things…” He said carefully.

She furrowed her fine brows right back at him, “I’m talking about roses. Flowers. We imported them from Europe and grow them in the garden back in the city…”

He nodded, “That explains it… Come on.”

He led the way back to where Slim was hitched, and she followed, pale eyes still full of questions, “… Where are we going?”

She allowed him to help her mount forward in the saddle, a feat made possible only by the specific combination of his hornless trail saddle and her riding skirts. She claimed to prefer riding forward as opposed to behind, and Arthur hadn’t anticipated trouble on the roads enough to warrant needing her behind him. Climbing up behind her, there were only minimal adjustments needed before they were arranged, his arm secured around her middle and her tucked back against his chest, her backside firmly against the front of his hips, and the smell of wildflowers threatening to drown him in waves from her dark hair while the top of her head brushed against his jawline.

It was not the most comfortable way to ride, but no one would ever hear him complain.

“We’re goin, Miss Schofield, to find you some wild roses.” He murmured into her scalp.

Fortunately, he knew of a place not too far out of town. Long rides seated like this often left him with half-numb legs and an aching-hard erection in his pants, and her sore from the pressure of the pommel digging into the front of her thighs.

It was a fine day for riding, too. The summer heat was always brutal in the high desert, but there was a nice breeze coming off the mountain that brought them some relief. The sky was a cloudless, cornflower blue, and few other riders were out, as it was entering the afternoon hours when folks avoided work—‘siesta’ both Javier and Catherine called it. Slim kept his trot long and easy, sparing his riders the punishment of a jarring ride up into the foothills.

The mostly uphill trip offered lovely vistas as they climbed, but also demanded some coaching on Arthur’s part, as the young lady was still very much a novice rider.

“Gonna hafta lean forward,” Were his words in her ear, “so’s help Slim stay center on the up.”

“Yes, but… I can’t really move further forward… unless you want me to bend?”

“Nah, don’ bend, shift your hips.”

“How? I… I’m a bit pinned here, Arthur…” She laughed lightly, a little self-conscious at her ignorance. He knew she never liked the idea of hurting or even overburdening a horse due to her lack of skill.

Dropping the reins for the quick moment—Arthur trusted the war horse to not spook or misstep in the few seconds he needed both hands—he gripped her hips on either side and rotated her pelvis forward.

It was a mistake.

It was a mistake on three fronts: Firstly, it caused a new, very intense friction between her backside and the front of his trousers, illiciting an immediate response. Secondly, it caused a similar, very intense friction between the front of the saddle where it met the pommel, and her crotch, which also illicited a response in the form of a shudder. Finally, all of these accidental consequences, and the very intentional movement of his hands, and even the intention of manipulating her body to suit his purposes better in the first place were all so much better suited to intimate activities that he could not help but reflect on them.

“Oh…” Catherine said softly while he repositioned his hands, holding the reins secure in one hand and tucking her into his elbow with the other arm. She shivered again when she felt his weight shift against as he also leaned forward for the uphill ride. Likely she could not ignore the way parts of him were pressing insistently into her.

“… Sorry, ‘scuse me.”

She laughed, “… I’d be more offended if it didn’t happen, I think… Seems to be the usual when we ride together like this.”

“Hm…”

“… Do we have much further?” Was her uneasy prompting.

“A bit…” He admitted, “You alright?”

“… I’m fine, but if it’s all… uphill like this… I might need to stop…”

That was a concern, “… Somethin’ wrong?”

“No, Arthur,” she sighed, “just my lady bits rubbing against the saddle leather and you iron-hard in my rump and murmuring all low in my ear while taking me out of town to try and show me wild roses that don’t exist…”

Chuckling, he said, “Oh, if that’s all… it’s just a bit further…”

She found some relief as the incline smoothed and she was able to shift her hips back again to sit more naturally. Arthur found no such respite, but when she settled more relaxed against him again and brought up a hand to trace the back of his roughened knuckles with her fingertips, he could find no reason to complain.

“So what are you gettin’ roses in the mail for anyway?” He wanted to know.

“More the press than the rose.” She told him, “Mary-Beth’s book was talking about a hoity-toity miss who pressed flowers with a field press, and she didn’t know what that was. I told her I had one… being a hoity-toity Victorian miss and all. I said I would send for it. I think she’d like pressing flowers, and I understand why she doesn’t want to use her books.”

“So someone put that rotted flower in by mistake?”

“Or forgot it was in there before sending it, or wanted to send me something that reminded me of home in the hopes I’d miss my fancy gilded cage.”

“… Gotta say, that’s quite the reminder…” He mused.

“Yes,” He could hear the smile in her voice, “quite fitting.”

He heard what she didn’t say, and it made his heart race to know she wasn’t tempted to leave any time soon.

“Here.” Was his announcement, nudging the horse off the narrow trail. “Found this place huntin’ awhile ago.”

He helped her down before dismounting behind her, moving slow to adjust and favor his… predicament.

“… I don’t see any roses.” Was her dubious observation after a few long looks over the patches of prairie grasses.

Wordlessly he took her hand and drew her further from the trail and then crouched down, tugging her after him. With a finger, he indicated the scatterings of coin-sized white and pink blooms. “There’s yer wild roses, Miss Catherine.”

“Those are wild roses?” She asked.

“Yes’m. Prairie roses.”

Turning from the blooms, she looked him in the face, clearly searching for some indication of further jest at her expense. When she found none, doubt slipped away from her beautiful face and was replaced by wonder, “You really brought me out here for wild roses!”

“’Course I did, what else would I be—”

She cut him off by dropping her hand to his thigh, as if to balance herself while she leaned forward to more closely inspect the blooms he’d pointed out. The casual touch caused the muscles in his leg to jump and he stiffened while his pants became even less forgiving. She was also giving him an eyeful of her elegantly curving spine and the round of her backside as she bent.

“Oh.” He finished, unsure whether he was offended she suspected him of bringing her out here for such a thing, or embarrassed that she might be encouraging such an act.

#my mic #17th #March #2019 #March 17th 2019 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #one-shot #by request #prowlingthunder #this was supposed to be short #revolver fic

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lillaxtrigger · 5 years

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Young hope: Chapter 18

Within the void of a dark room, light begins to poor in upon the crack of the door. A young red headed teenage girl peeks within the retreating darkness and calls out for whoever it might dwell. “Opal? You in here?” Chloe wonder aloud. Once she fully opens the door, the hallway lights begins to flood the decorative bedroom. Several dishes litter the furnishings of the less then well kept room, the leftover food they still hold looking not as appetizing as they once were. The once proud dragon girl that she sought could be found laying upon her bed, stewing in the woeful market brand soup called depression, now with extra bits of sadness. “Beat it. I’m not in the mood for any of your crap.” the monk demands. “Oh, Opal. I can’t stand to see you like this...Later.”

Beginning to depart from the room, she figures if she wants to lock herself in her dank ass bedroom for the rest of time, that ain’t no skin off her back. But Chloe halts in her tracks once she hears the frosty ice dragon command and ask her to: “Wait a moment. Why did you come here? You didn’t just come to kick me while I was down, did you?” Upon turning back towards her the bed ridden monk, she admits after a sigh that: “Ryu wanted me to come over and check to see if you were doing alright. Said something about you not returning anybodies calls. He tried to come over, you’re mom told him that you didn’t wanna see anyone.” “But she’s not home right now. The doors are supposed to be locked.” “Yeah, I broke in, but that’s not the point. The point is that you haven’t been showing up to school in days. Everyone is worried sick about you and they won’t stop bitching at me to do something about it for some god forsaken reason.” Hearing this, Opal finally raises from the groove left in her bed to question that notion of worry with: “Oh, now everyone’s concerned about me? That’s priceless. Wasn’t enough that Ryu came out of the closet, but both Renee and Tricia haven’t been answering either. And on top of all this avalanche of trouble, my powers haven’t been acting right ever since that whole deal with Circe.” “You’re powers?” “Yeah, I can’t turn into a dragon anymore. No matter how hard I try, not even a scale pops up.” “Can you still control water?” To demonstrate, the fallen dragon casts her palm toward a cup of clear water resting upon the nightstand and lifts the liquid right from the glass. From their, she twirls the water all around the room, weaving the liquid both around her and unwelcomed guests. Finally, she tosses the water towards one of her unsuspecting posters, freezing into icicles and embedding themselves within the bedroom walls. A disheartened breath escaping the dragons once mighty lungs, the water warrior sadly admits that: “It just doesn’t feel the same. Like a part of me was just ripped away.”

“I don’t see what the whole friken she bang is, honestly. So you can’t turn into a scaly ice breathing monstrosity anymore, big whoop. I’d call that a plus.” “You don’t get it! Dragon transformation is a big deal on my moms side of the family! I’d be like saying to her: “Hey mom. The part you gave to me that made me a part of your heritage was ripped straight outta me in the blink of an eye. Too bad I wasted it all on nothing but petty teen soap opera shenanigans fighting over some stupid cute looking boy!” If she found that out, she might never look at me the same way again.”

With that admittance of defeat, the fallen dragon flops right back onto the comfort of her awaiting bed. A sorry site to behold for sure. One that tugs on her former nemesis heartstrings. Where before, the redhead would bask in seeing the ice monk in such a pitying wreck of torn emotions and battered feelings, now she can’t help feel like an asshole upon such a thought. With Ryu having been taken out of the equation, they don’t really have much of a reason to engage in such bad blood battles anymore. Their whole damn rivalry was kinda shallow and petty upon retrospect. Two young ladies fighting over little more then the passing fancies of an oblivious cute boy. Fucking reality TV drama all up in this bitch. Best get to work on digging their way out from the shallow remains of this broken love triangle they once had the gaw to call a relationship.

The red head begins her excavation by sitting on the side of the morning girl bed, grabbing Opals attention but with a light touch to her shoulder. “Look, the whole Ryu thing wasn’t that big a deal looking back. The dates that Ryu took us both on never led into anything serious. Probably why I never spared much thought on it when he came out.” This claims start reaching the ice monk, pulling her face out from the folds of her pillow. “As for the dragon thing; That witch bitch snatched up a lot of kids and tried to drain them of their powers. That whole fiasco wasn’t your fault.” “Yeah it was. I got careless. One night, I heard a cry for help in a dark alleyway, the next thing I know, a weird glow surrounded me I a was on the slumber express. I’m lucky to even be alive.” “That’s the thing. You are alive. I’m sure as long as that was the fact, your mom couldn’t give less of a shit about your powers.” “I don’t know. I always felt such a sense of pride when going dragon. Like I was doing that side of my family proud. Without it, I don’t even feel that much anymore.” “Quit spouting that self pity horse waste and listen. You don’t need any powers to feel like that. You’re already good at so many other stuff.” “Like?” “Um...Uh well, Mmm...You’re pretty good at getting on my nerves?” An upset exhale through the ice monks nose passes before Opal sinks back to the comfort of her bed sheets. Seems like this mission to bury the hatchet is hitting hard rock fast. Gonna need something to punch through before the ground below collapses. Perhaps a bit of dynamite might fair to shake things up.

“Alright then, fine. Stay in here and rot for all I care. I guess with you all cooped up in here, I’m gonna have to be the bearer of bad news to your mom.” The threat is more then enough to shock her former rival out from the folds of her sheets and call her out. “You wouldn’t dare. I can call the police before you even get the chance.” she counters, her phone ready at the dial. “Got her number from the sticky note on the fridge. Care to try me?” she boasts, threatening the same notion with the mothers number on the screen. The two phone toting teenagers stare each other down, their fingers itching for the call. The air gave off a much less risky wild west shootout, but with the guns being their phones and the bullets being the blackmail.

Finally, ice monk caves into the red head threats and lowers her cellular device. “Just let me get changed.” “There we go, now was that so hard?” “Fucking glaciers.”

Their trip on this self esteem recovery cruise is first through the metaphorical oceans of the Townsville mall. Although the damage from the town wide riot proved to still linger, repairs were already halfway done. Though Chloe is barely able to notice as she proves herself far too distracted by Opals choice of apparel. “Good god girl, what are you wearing?” “What?” “Why in high hell did you decide to go out in that?” “My sweater?” Opal checks, a warm green sweater wrapped around her body. “Yeah.” “It’s just in case of cold snaps. I’m been getting them ever since Circe messed with my powers.” With a disgruntled groan, the redhead turns away from the walking fashion disaster she called her guest on this trip. It’s far worse then she thought. The poor girls taste in clothing had gone off the deep end. Something must be done to cure this deterioration of clothing choices, post haste, before the poor girl crosses into the realm of the hideously abstract.

Chloe looks about the repaired walls of the mall for a single glimmer of hope to remedy Opals unfashionable affliction. Beyond the gushes of the fountain, a newly added boutique could be taken in view. Perfect. Now to just convince the victim in question to come along for the shopping spree. Best to approach this carefully. One backhanded insult could sink this entire cruise before it even leaves shore. “Hey, you know what always cheers me up when I’m feeling like a puddle of street piss? Buying some new clothes. Nothing like a shopping spree to perk those sorrowful spirits, my mom always says.” “Why? What’s wrong with what I wear now?” Opal questions. “Oh, nothing, nothing. I just wanna see what cute outfits you look good in.” “I don’t know. Growing up in a temple out in China for most of your life doesn’t exactly develop your taste in fashion.” “Well all that’s gonna change now. Come on.” A swipe to the wrist and Chloe set off towards the clothing shop with Opal in hand.

Within the shop of fashionable apparel and cute accessories, the duo partake in the fashion line inside to their hearts content. Tee’s, jeans, and accessories they go through, helping each other on what looks best on whom, though Chloe does most of the judging for what builds Opals wardrobe. Gotta build up a sturdy sense of fashion for the future. Upon one point in their shopping spree, Opal manages to pull out a pair of jeans with a design of a sky blue dragon stitched on the legging. Never though she’d get such a cruel reminder from a pair of pants of all things. Before the ice monk has the chance to dwell on what she lost a moment further, her red headed host snatches the glittering garments from her grasp and instead lends her a new pair of designer jeans, these sporting a pink petals design lacing the leggings. A site that cheers up the dragon a fair bit and reminds her to look towards the future anew.

With their fresh line of fashionable fair in hand, the pair head straight towards the changing room, eager to garb themselves with the clothes they picked. One at a time, they enter and exit, switching who changes while the other judges, even exchanging their picks at several points.

Once that fashionable changing montage has run its course, they walk out with their bags of newly perched apparel in tow. Chloe seems to notice Opals mood having lifted. looking like her woes were starting to lift away. “Seems that mini shopping spree might have done the trick. You’re looking a tons better.” “Yeah. I’d admit, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I did. Wearing the same old stuff everyday and you never really appreciate how you look.” The young monk pulls from her bag of acquired wares a dark purple skirt, one that she had taken a fancy eye to. “Not once did I think I’d pick out something as cute as this.” Upon inspecting the piece carefully, the red head finds it best to give out one more piece of expertise to her budding bud. “Opal, listen, listen...That skirt would go amazingly with something of a light violet.” “You think so.” “Oh trust me girl. Boys would be throwing sticks of dynamite to get a piece of you.” A light giggle escaping her lips, she gives her appreciation for the piece of advice with a humble: “Thanks Chloe.”

Looking ahead, the conductor of this blissful bullet train lays her sight on an obstruction upon the tracks. Their former crush on the approach, with a yellow and black haired individual at his side. God dammit, why does his dreamy ass have to rear itself now of all times! If Opal takes a peek of him hanging out with that bumblebee haired douche bag, it’ll send her back on a one way trip to the precinct of misery and sorrow. Time for this Spicer express to take a sudden detour off the rails. Hastily, she shoves Opal into the nearest store before her site rest upon the approaching duo.

Recovering from the sudden shove, the monk turns towards the red head, and naturally demands an explanation. “What the hell, Chloe? What’s your deal?” “Sorry, thought I might have spotted something in here that you might like.” “In business attire?” “Yeah, sure will find something in this little-what?” Finally, she notices the shop that Chloe had shove themselves into and finds Opal to be correct. The two found themselves in the midst of a business clothing store. Not even a good one where the choices avalible were stylish, more along the lines of causal office wear as the red head looks on in horror the droll line of dress shirts and khakis filling the racks. Oh god. What kind of dorkish hellscape have they forced upon themselves? Even standing aside such passe choices of wares is enough to make the girls skin creep. Best make their escape as soon as possible. “Oh, whoops. My bad. Must have been something I imagined. What’d you say we bounce outta here and look somewhere else for you to where did you go?” Beside her, the ice monk seemed to have slipped form her side, witnessing Opal travel further into the depths of the store. Dear god no. The red head hesitates not a moment further to chase after her guest, rushing into the racks as fast as she can.

Chloe takes her frantic search through the racks and shelves of this office depot, hoping to pull Opal out from the deep wells of this company appointed shop. Has the poor girl finally delved into the depths of madness, or she bravely naive enough to think that she might find something to pull a decent look off in this joint? Dammit, it won’t be long before the spirit of drab office apparel consumes her very being. There might be no saving her at that point. A fate she intends to have not befall the monk.

Her search takes her to the back of the store, the girl she sought coming out garbed in a long sleeved lilac dress shirt in junction with her new purple skirt. “Well, how do I look?” Opal wonders. “You...You look...Not half bad actually.” “You think so?” “Yeah. The skirt actually makes the whole thing surprisingly work.” The red head takes a quite sigh of relief upon the girls overall look. That was quite the scare for the minute there. Thought she’d had her sense of fashion poisoned within this horrid realm of dull business apparel. “Glad you like it so much. Just wish I had enough money to take it home. Spent the last of it over at the other place.” “Oh don’t you worry about cash. Let me take care of cash.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. I’m god damn loaded. Just give me a second.” As the red head goes off to pay for her former foes new digs, the watery young woman looks over to her sweater that rested within one of the bags with a mix of slight attachment and worry.

The next stop on this road trip in the RV of gleeful merriment and mirthful recovery was grabbing a bite to eat. Since Chloe picked where they went at the last few times, she figures it might be time for Opal to take the wheel on a couple stops. Where the ice monk decides to take this road trip was at a Chinese restaurant. And not one of those cheap ass takeout restaurants you find along a strip mall either, we’re talking about the exotic stuff all up in this biz.

The two ladies await for their servings to arrive, admiring the décor planted throughout the restaurant mixed with the eastern style music playing on the speakers above. The variety of food being served to the awaiting people matched the eastern motif like no other, emitting the unique scents that one would find in the land of dragons. The entire restaurant gave out the vibe that you just stepped within a little slice of China. “Wow, this place looks so exotic. Nice choice for a stop, girl.” “Yeah, I thought coming here might cheer me up a bit. The food they serve always reminds me of the stuff I’d eat at my dad temple. Hope he’s doing alright over there.”

Upon that wonder, their food arrives, the waiter resting the delectable dishes before them. While Opal has ordered herself a delectable bowl of chow mein with a side of fried rice, Chloe was given a saucy serving of sweet and sour chicken. The combining aroma’s of the dishes create an overwhelming scent that girls noses eagerly take in. They can practically feel the tantalizing tastes of the Chinese already and hesitate not a moment longer to dig in.

Although the water warrior does not hesitate partaking in her decided dish, relishing the nearly nostalgic flavors; the same cannot be said for the red head, having trouble as early as handling the pair of chopstick she was given No matter what way she choose to hold the foreign utensils, the sticks would always slip from her grip. Looking over, Chloe finds her former rival having next to no trouble accomplishing such a task, taking in bite after bite of the noodles set before her. How the hell does anybody eat with these damn things? Who’s the jackass that thought that eating your food with a pair of sticks would be the most practical idea? The better question is how it became a standard in some countries? Ah, well. No shame in asking for a fork.

After grabbing the attention of a nearby waiter with a wave of her hand, Chloe asks them: “Excuse me. Have you got any forks or spoons I can use?” “Oh, sorry. I’m afraid we can’t serve anyone those at them moment. All of them are being washed.” The waiter takes their leave, leaving Chloe little option but to risk experimenting with the unique set of utensils. Well shit, guess this exotically enticing meal will have to wait for the doggy bag, then. But the red head stomach relay’s to her its objections upon waiting a moment further with quite the upsetting growl, demanding the food before them enter her body at once. Fine, you win stomach. Guess no better time to practice then now.

One more time, she holds the sticks together, pinching them carefully between her fingers. Slowly, she navigates the ends towards her chicken, pinching the piece between the tips. Ha, gotcha! Now to just lift the sour sweet piece and finally partake in the long awaited flavor. But inches away from her gaping mouth, it slips from the sticks delecate grasp and plops upon the table. The gooey sweet and sour sauce splatters upon impact, tempting to land on her newly bought designer garments if not for the red head blocking palm. Jesus, that was close! If even a single drip of this tantalizing nectar got on her person, its doubtful the stains would ever come out. Why didn’t she just order the fucking rice bowl? Damn this enticing Chinese explosion of sauces and flavors. The taste of exotic foods was always such a crippling weakness to the young lady, no matter how unashamedly juicy it may present itself. Its all just so damn tasty.

Opal on the other hand proves to be halfway done with her chow mein, taking in the delectable noodles with nothing but pinches from her chopsticks. As she continues to dine on her dish however, she can’t help but notices Chloe’s fumbles upon the same venture, watching as she struggles to lift even a piece of her chicken. Where before, the monk of water would take the opportunity to show off amidst her former rivals falls from grace, she instead feels motives for a much opposite form of action.

Pinching the piece of sweet and sour chicken with a stick in each hand, she slowly lifts the longing flavor of the saucy poultry towards her mouth, only to have the piece fall right back on the plate. Right from the cusp of a boiling rage, Opal cools her growling with a grasp of her shoulder while relieving the sticks form her grasp. “Chloe, relax. Chopsticks aren’t that hard once you figure out how to use them. Let me show you how to hold them before you stab someone’s eyes out.” The monk returns the red head sticks back to a single palm, placing them between her index finger like a pair of pencils. “Just place the two sticks between you’re index finger and hold then with your middle finger and thumb like so.” That step finished, the next one shows Opal guiding their hands towards Chloe’s awaiting delectable dish, pinching a piece between the tips of the sticks using her finger and thumb. Finally, the piece makes its trip towards Chloe’s long awaiting lips once more, finishing its abrupt journey with a well deserved bite. At long last, the red head can savor the sweet and sour flavors that swirl within her mouth, the exotic tastes queuing a satisfied moan. After swallowing a piece of her well desired dish with an ending sigh, the red turns to the water monk, with a thankful: “Thanks a bunch, don’t know how much longer I could risk getting any of that sauce on my clothes.” “Hey, don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do after you bought this shirt for me.” “Now I can finally dig into this bitch!” Eagerly, Chloe pinches another piece and quickly laps up the chicken towards her mouth, but she proves that she still need work with the utensils as she drops the piece just as fast. A lowkey growl escaping the cracks of her teeth, Opal gives her reassuring calm by noting: “Hey, don’t sweat it. All it takes is a little patients and some practice. You should have seen the first time I handled them, one of them wound up flying in my dads ear.” “Really?” “Yeah, I was almost grounded.” Sharing a pleasing giggle, the two return to their meals with the aim to finish.

After a while, the duo finally end their meals with a relaxing slouch and a hearty sigh. “Man that hit the spot. That chow mein you shared with me wasn’t half bad.” Chloe admits. “That sweet and sour chicken you picked out was pretty nice too. This place serves some good Chinese.” Opal shares. “Well, hope you hadn’t had you’re fill yet. We still got some day to burn off to make some stops.” Rising from her booth, the red head prepares her trip towards the bathroom with the followup of: “But first, I gotta make a stop myself.”

One trip to the bathroom passing and Chloe prepares her walk back to pay for the check. Something that catches her eye makes her halt in her tracks however. Her former crush, Ryu, sitting in a booth facing the young man he walked beside with earlier. Are you fucking for real, here? Is he just following them or is this just some massive ass coincidence. Better bolt it before the site strikes Opals gaze, else the whole day plan might come to a screeching stop.

As the ice monk prepares for their departure, she takes witness to her red headed friend making a swift rush in her direction. Quickly setting the money she owes upon the table, Chloe takes Opals hands and rushes for the door. “Come on. The night is burning.” she insists. Little do both of them fail to realizes is that the water warrior has yet to retrieve her sweater, resting upon the seat of their former booth.

With their stomachs stuffed and their taste buds quenched, Opal yet again takes the reins of this frolicsome venture, riding into the realm of infinite possibilities as the day soon fades to make way for the towns dusk. However, in what seemed like a cruel joke, the water monk decides that the next stop upon this girls night out was an office supply emporium of all place. “You know, Opal. You had me with the restaurant and then you lost me here. We’re supposed to be having fun tonight. Why did you drag us hear of all places?” “I just need to stop in here to get several things. My supplies stock has taken a huge nosedive and I need to refuel.” Hearing a load groan escape the redheads lungs, Opal reassures her to: “Don’t worry. I promise we won’t be here for long. Maybe you can help me pick out some cute files.” With that, a much louder groan escapes the red head.

Surely, an excuse that she has heard many a times by now. It’s always just a couple minutes, isn’t it? But a couple could soon easily morph into several, as evidence by the so many times Kingsley has drag her and her parent to this accursed depot of business tools. Seriously, every time she wound up in here, the minutes just slug on to a dead crawl. She’d even try faking sick a couple time just for the hope of relief from the ticking of the clock. Though the red head dares make an acceptation this time around, as her determination to put the petty past behind beckon to the call. This is a day of redemption dammit, a day that will not be tainted by the impulses of rising boredom. If her budding bud wishes to partake in this spree through the mart of office supplies, so be it. Chloe’s only concern is how long she’ll be able to last amidst the droll wilds.

And its not long before the red head resolves swiftly begins to wear thin. The trip through the depot leads them through shelves of staples, plenty of papers, and countless amounts of pencil and pen alike. While Opal enjoys the weirdly tranquil calm of looming through the interior of the store, the redhead was beginning to loose her mind trekking through all of it once again as the horridly shitty excuse for store music breaches her ears for the 10th time in a row. Seriously, its all they fucking play here! She’s heard it on loop, so many times, she occasionally hears echoes of its reprise long after she’s departed. If she has to navigate her way through even another hall of boring file organizers, someones spine is coming out of their backs. The wonder if her former rival just dragged her hear to make her suffer, begins to take hold.

Upon the cusp of a rage induced shit fit, something that catches her eye halts her readying freak-out. Twas nothing more complex then a simple pen, a pen with a rather unique design catching Chloe’s eye. It looks...really nice actually. The elegant pattern swirling along the barrel, the gracious clip seamlessly matching the design of the cap, almost like the designs of a fashionable dress. How the hell is it possible for a pen to look this good. Throughout all the times she’s been through this god forsaken office store, she’s never noticed such a gem. Can’t let this catch slip through her grasp. Taking her newfound pen, she turns back to find she has lost site of her frosty friend. Dammit, where did she wonder of to, now? Swear, you take your eye off some people for a moment and they’re gone, just like that. Better find her before she looses herself in the swirling nether of clip boards and printer ink.

In the midst of her search through this office emporium, Chloe comes across a mess of supplies forming trailing throughout the isles. These supplies seems a little familiar. Staples, paper, pen and pencil. Weren’t these the things that Opal was shopping for? Hard to say for certain. Almost everything in here looks the same, all of it blending together to the red heads point of view. But something still feels amiss. She knows Opal isn’t this incompetently clumsy just to drop her shit everywhere like this. Whatever’s happened, she better follow the trail fast.

The path of paper and pencil leads Chloe all throughout the depot, weaving through the countless isles of supplies and customers. Each second passing is another moment the red heads worry grows. The trail beginning to wear itself thin the further down it leads, she hopes that the path doesn’t come crawling to a close soon.

The paper and pen path leads towards the back of the store, Chloe finally coming across Opal huddled in the corner. “Opal, finally. What the hell happened? Why’d you just ditch me like-...Huh?” A closer look upon the ice monk revealed her to be suffering from a nasty shiver, her breath on full display within the heated space. “Opal, what’s going on!? What’s happening!?” “Cold snap...Can’t find...sweater...Need warmth...now!”

Not a moment further does Chloe wait to drag her freezing friend out from the business depot, ignoring the alarm that sounds off as they pass. Out in the parking lot, the red head looks around, hoping to find someplace for her bitter cold bud to thaw. Can’t take to the skies, gliding through cold evening air is just asking to make things worse. Too far from home either. The trip potentially taking roughly an hour on foot. Not the kind of time she has to spend. There’s gotta be somewhere around here a couple gals can shelter themselves from the chilling cold of the fall winds. Wherever that may be, they better find it fast, else Opal might make for a fine example of the looming dangers of hypothermia.

Up and down and all around the block they go, hoping somewhere around was the salvation of heat and warmth the freezing monk so desires. With each passing second, her shaking worsens. Chloe feeling Opals shivers against her body worsen as the red head holds her tight for warmth. Come on! There has to be somewhere here that can save them from the freezing faults of fall. Another minute longer and shemight succumb to a frightening frosty fate.

In the midst of her frantic search for the desiring relief of warm do the duo spot an orange glow, piercing through the darkness of an alleyway on the wayside. Not a moment longer do they rush towards the light, finding within the alley a burning oil drum that few of the cities homeless have huddled around to bask in its heat. Perhaps not the most appealing places to seek shelter from old mans winters knock at the door, but given Opals dropping temperature, it’ll have to make do. The freezing monk wastes not an another moment to approach the glowing blaze, warming herself against the radiating heat. “You feeling better?” the red head asks her. “Yeah...Warming up at least.” “Hah….that’s nice to hear. Thought for a minute there you would have ended up turning into a grape dragon popsicle.” “I...I don’t get it.” “Ah, see it’s cause you’re wearing purple and you almost froze to-” “My sweater! I don’t know where it could have possibly wound up. I need to get it back.” “Oh...Well don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll just get ya something even better to where. Maybe even a designer coat with silk lacing in the-” “No!” The suddenly harsh objection from the warming warrior makes the fiery red head and the other homeless jump back. “I need that sweater back ASAP...I can’t go home without it.” she demands under the frost of her breath. “Alright, fine, Jeez. I’ll get it back for you.”

As Chloe takes flight from the orange lit warmth of the burning blaze, she wonders what the hell bossy MC ice fangs deal is. It’s just a stupid sweater. Not even a good looking one either. That snot colored abomination didn’t even look that good on her to begin with. If she was that worried about getting cold, it’d be best to get her a much more stylish designer coat instead. Perhaps something of a magenta color would tie her look together quite nice. Something to spare thought to as she begins her search for the ice monks sweater. Don’t want all that hard work and cash in cheering the girl up to go right down the drain. The only question left unanswered is where they could have left the damn thing. Only four places it could possibly be at. Seems this mystery is gonna require retracing their steps.

First stop on this mystery march was back at the business supply emporium. “Nah, we haven’t seen you’re friends sweater, But we did see you two run off without paying.” the cashier mentions. A disappointed sigh escapes the red heads mouth as she pulls out the money she owns.

Second stop upon this sweater search was at the boutique, the cashier at the front claiming: “No, you’re friends sweater wasn’t left here. Good thing, too. That horrid thing best not be left in our shop.” Although inclined to agree with the sneering comment, the red head ultimately takes her leave.

Up next was the office dress shop, and much like the other shops before that Opals sought after sweater is: “Ain’t here. Sorry. Though while I have you, would you like to try out are new membership plan. You get a new pair of khakis sent every month?” Nope. An irritated growl seeps through her teeth as she walks out.

Only place left to check on the list was the Chinese restaurant they dined at earlier. Luckily Chloe manages to strike a bit of gold during the hunt, the waiter confirming that: “Yes, it was here. You two left it at the booth you dined after rushing out.” “Really? Mind if I have it back then?” “Oh, sorry. A couple of guys that came in here earlier snatched it up on their way out before any of us could grab it.” “What!? Can’t you at least tell me what they look like?” Chloe pleas. “Eh, not really sure. Didn’t really get a good look at them going out. Don’t know what to tell you.” “I-...Thank you for your time...” A weary moan leaves the girls lungs at she exits the restaurant.

Well, that proved to be a complete waist of time. Going around everywhere only to find out that Opals stupid sweater was stolen. Who in their right mind would look to a sweater left on a random seat of a Chinese restaurant and go: “Ah yeah. That shits mine, motherfucka!” Fuckin really now! Now how to break the news to her as gently as possible?...Wonder if the boutique still open?

A round trip back to the alleyway the fiery red head left her frosty friend behind and she finds the lady of the hour has left the scenes entirely. Oh, where the hell did she wonder off to now? Can’t exactly message the girl to see where she’s at. Never bothered to get her number. Okay Chloe, calm down. She’s not stupid. If she left, then that means that her cold spells must have wore off. At least she’s alright for now. Only question left was where she went. Now think; where would someone who grew up in a Chinese temple for most of their life go to when feeling like frosty shitcicles? ...

Within the confines of the Townsville park, a wide view of Chinese themed scenery stretched before her. Flora and fauna from the very country it was attempting to emulate planted throughout the section of park. Buildings matching the old atheistic placed about to go with the tranquil scenery, some housing public services. A calming stream leading throughout the park flowed from the ponds almost like lifeblood, little wooden bridges connecting the lands for safe passage. Completing the entire eastern aesthetic with the paper lamps suspended upon the poles. Its a miracle this place remained untouched during the town wide riot. It always looked so gorgeous. The redhead can’t imagine what would happen this beautiful portal into the land of dragons were destroyed overnight. The park just wouldn’t be the same. But now’s not the time for exotic admiration, there’s a friend that needs to be found, dammit. Best find her soon before this nightly fall air makes her succumb to another cold snap.

The koi ponds, the ancient bell, the lily garden, the bamboo thicket each and every corner the red head looks for the lady of the hour, finding not a single speck of the frosty lass anywhere. Checking in the buildings around proved to be just as a fruitless endeavor, the ice monk failing to be in any of them. Maybe she just went home after all. As Chloe begins her trek out from the eastern themed park, her expression perks upon spoting a familiar figure standing atop one of the wooden bridges crossing the streams.

Opal herself was busy staring down into the flowing stream below, entranced by the passing koi fish as a senses of waning nostalgia envelopes her. “Hey girl!” The call for attention snaps her out of the enticing trance, finding her fiery red head friend approaching from the side. “There you are. I was getting worried you might’ve went home. Good thing I caught ya hanging around here, huh. Nice to see that you’re feeling better too.” “Uh, thanks...Did you find my sweater yet?” “Ehhh...No, wound up getting stolen.” “What!?” the ice monk exclaims, visibly distraught by the baring news. “But don’t you fret. I got you something even better. Ready?” With that, the red head presents her final gift on this metaphorical merriment cruise liner: a top of the line fur designer coat. “Ta da!” Placing the coat in Opals grasp, Chloe goes into further detail about said gift with: “Figured it’d help you plenty with any freeze spells you might catch, with it’s thermal wool interior and heavy outer fabric, that baby should keep you warm no matter how low your temperature drops.” “I...Um...Th-thanks...I guess.” “What, you don’t like it?” “It’s just...I really wanted that back sweater back is all. And hearing it get stolen is just-” “You still going on about that national offense of fashion? Just forget about it. That coat I picked out for you is way better then that snot green disaster any day of the week” That snide remark manages to set the water warrior off to boil, arguing with: “Excuse me!? That offense of fashion was special to me. You can’t just replace something like that.” “Oh, come on. I guarantee you that coat you’re holding has had a lot more money dunked into it then that mucus colored mess ever held. What kind of value could that hideous excuse for clothing possibly have?” “It was a gift from my cousin, you bitch!” A mix of shock and guilt befalls the red head upon this fact reaching her ears. “I haven’t seen him in years, but he sent me that sweater as a birthday gift several months ago.” “Opal, I-” “You know, I was honestly hoping that we could have put all all our bad blood business behind us and maybe bury the hatchet. I actually liked hanging out with you and thought you were really cool. Like, I was thinking, “Hey, I guess she isn’t as bad after all.”… But I was wrong. You’re really are just and as selfish and inconsiderate as I thought.” Her words of bitter scorn and deep remorse delivered, the fallen dragon tosses her newfound coat into the mercy of the sky, the fall winds above claiming her ill received gift for themselves. The emotionally wounded warrior then departs, leaving Chloe to stew in the wonder of her actions.

Hmm, figured that conversation could have taken a much smoother route. Things might have not taken such a drastically worse turn if the red head hadn’t crashed into the ice monks nerves like that. Maybe it’s not to late to apologize for the sudden wreck?...You know what, no. If that bitch isn’t thankful for all the money I spent on her, so be it. There’s better things to do with ones time anyhow.

Ready to depart and leave the upset dragon to her woes, Chloe turns around to find her former crush right behind her. “Hey Chloe, what’s up.” “Ryu, hey.” Whoa, when the hell did he get here!? Wait a second, did he catch that whole fiasco? Judging by his upbeat expression, its a safe wager to assume that he didn’t see much. Play it cool, Chloe. “So, what brings you around here?” “Just hanging out with this cool guy I met the other day. I spotted you and Opal at that Chinese restaurant earlier and was hoping I could catch you two to talk for a bit.” “R-really? With what?” “Well, this might sound kinda weird. But I always got the impression that you two might have been fighting over me.” “What? No. No. That’s crazy. Whatever gave you that silly idea?” Oh god. “Well, I kinda figured that both of you had a thing for me and wanted to say sorry if I may have broken a couple hearts coming out.” “Ryu, it’s no big deal. Honest, I’ve moved on.” “Okay. I was a little worried there. Hey um, if you see Opal, mind giving her something for me as a sort of apology.” Curiously, the red head awaits as the boy before her turns from behind, requesting her to: “Wait for it...”

Shortly, he pulls his of apology which takes the form of Opals lost sweater. “Her sweater!?” “Yeah, I kinda saw you two rush out of the restaurant without it. Figured she might want it back. You know where I can find her?” “Um-Uh… Swiftly, she nabs the sought after garment from the boys grasp, promising him that: “Don’t sweat it. I’ll make sure she gets it the next time I see her.” “Oh, great. Thanks. You know, I’m so happy you two are finally getting along. I guess with me outta the game, there’s really no reason to fight, is there?" “Ha ha, yeah. Good to hear. Ha.” God dammit. “Cool. Listen, I gotta get back to this guy that I’m hanging out with. Maybe work up the nerve to ask him out. Tell Opal I said hi!” With the boys leave, Chloe gives her wave goodbye, waning the further he goes as she says farewell with: “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell her. Good luck on your little date, Ryu. Ha ha ha...ha ha...ha...Shit.”

Whelp, guess that was the final nail in the coffin, wasn’t it? The red head felt like a complete asshole. I mean sure, at first she did all this because nobody would shut the hell up about it, even tempting to leave when the fallen dragon proved to be too stubborn. But during their time spent together, they found more common ground then either of them realize. Maybe there was even a chance to form a budding relationship where war once waged. Fuck, why did all that have to come out of her mouth. Hope the soil isn’t too far tainted for anything to grow now.

Around the park she goes once more, hoping to catch the ice monk before her bitter departure. However, another sweep around the park proved fruitless as she fails to find Opal anywhere. Please say she didn’t leave already.

Within the confines of a hidden grotto, she finally found the frosty dragon of ice, dwelling in the darkness upon a stone seat. Opal herself not to happy that her depending rival uncovered her, evident by questioning with a mildly harsh: “What do you want?” “I um…I was hoping to catch you so I could say sorry for the sweater. Didn’t know it meant that much to you. I shouldn’t have made us leave without it.” A depressed breath escaping the fallen dragons mouth, she turns her gaze away from the red head. “But guess what, it didn’t get stolen after all. Ryu stop by to chat and found it.” Reaching around, she presents the treasured sweater in question, prompting Opal to slowly approach. Showing little emotion, she takes the sweater from the red heads grasps and after inspecting it asks: “So Ryu found it, huh? Did he say anything else?” “Just sorry that he kinda broke your heart.” “Oh...” Her sweater in hand, the icy monk returns back to the shadows of the grotto, her gaze breaking with Chloe once more. “Listen, if it’s Ryu you’re still worried about, you don’t need him. You-” “It’s not Ryu I’m mad about. I’m over him. It’s about you.” “Me?” “The way you treated my sweater with callous disregard, it showed how little you think of me. That you barely even considered how losing something like that made me feel. It make me wonder that all we did today was just you trying to look like the bigger woman.

Hearing this, Chloe approaches the dragon monk, sitting beside her upon the hard stone. “Look. I’m just gonna come clean with you. At first, I just did this because everybody wouldn’t stop coming to me about you, like whatever you do is my damn business. But the more time I spent on this whole trip, the more I began to enjoy it. I mean picking out great clothes, teaching me how to use those chopsticks, finding an amazing looking pen. I’d never thought I’d have much fun hanging out with you, until today. And about your sweater, you’re right. I acted like I could just buy my way outta loosing it and never thought it might have been important to you. I always just took that kinda of stuff...for granted. You’re honestly one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met and I really don’t want things to end like this, but...I understand if you never wanna see me again. Later.” Her heartfelt apology dealt, the red head prepares to take her leave from the darkness of the grotto.

Right on the cusp of taking her sorry leave, Chloe hears the sound of the water monk call out and demand that she: “Wait.” A quick turn about towards her staring frosty friends request and she wonders what the girl might have left to get off her chest. “...Thanks for...getting me out of the house and taking me shopping. You’re whole encouraging blackmail trip actually kinda helped. I was beginning to feel a lot better. Lord knows how long I’d stow myself in my room if you hadn’t forced me out. Do you...do you still think we have time to hang out?” A warm smile drawn across her face, the red head approached and reassured that: “We’re teenagers. We can make our own time. But you might wanna better way of hanging onto that sweater of yours. Hang on.” Taking the garment from Opals grasps, she ties the warm sweater around her reforged friends neck. “There we go. Don’t look half bad on you when you wear it like that.” “Hee, thanks. Come on.”

Upon emerging from the darkness of the grotto, the sound of the ice monks phone halts the two in their tracks. “Oh hang on.” Digging the phone from her purse, she takes the answer, only to be met with the ballistic screams of her mother on the other end “Mom...S-slow down, what are you talking...The business depot...They said I did what!? Ha-hang on mom! I can explain, I...um, I...” Struggling upon what to say to the furious parental figure, the fallen dragon feels the calming touch from her once bitter rival upon her shoulder, looking back to find the fiery red head with a reassuring smile. The doubt and fears leaves the renewed monks person with a soothing breathe, determined to face the fury of her mother head on with: “Mom...There’s something that I need to tell you...”

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

With this chapter, I wanted to try and explore the dynamic between Chloe and Opal in the aftermath of their burnt out rivalry. I thought it might be interesting for Chloe to try and help out a former rival having been weakened by the scares left behind by Circe, exploring a different side to the whole coping story that I did with Roy a couple Chapters back

(Also as a good story excuse to retcon Opals dragon powers, but never mind that.)

#lillaxtrigger #Young Hope

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bastardnev · 6 years

Text

That Guy Next Door -- Ch. 5

SORRY this is so late!! i meant to post it this morning but i didn’t have enough time, i was in a Rush

anyways who wants some fuckin FIRST DATE FLUFF on this fine friday

tagging: @tylerblacks @joonhobi @sailor-slam-dunk @rivela @aliciasfox @kidvoodoo @smolsammichu @simulated-heat @douglas-leon-michael @1dluver13xx (lemme know if you want to be added to my nev/moose taglist!!)

(link to ao3)

Prev.: Ch. 1 ♡ Ch. 2 ♡ Ch. 3 ♡ Ch. 4 ♡

Neville had been so eager to inform Mustafa that he was willing to go on a date with him that he hadn’t even realized one glaring problem with the whole thing: he had absolutely no clue what he was doing.

It had been years since the last time he went on an actual date with somebody, and as such he was a little rusty when it came to the basics. For starters, what was he supposed to wear? Seeing as this was only a trip to a coffee shop, he knew that whatever he wore would have to be casual, but not too casual. He didn’t want Mustafa to think that he was a slob who didn’t care about his appearance -- maybe a t-shirt and jeans?

Then he remembered something unfortunate as he was digging around in his closet -- he didn’t own anything casual. Most of his wardrobe consisted of button-down shirts and dress pants. All things that he normally wore to work. Nothing that screamed “coffee date”.

Not only that, but how was he supposed to act? Should he act like he normally did? Or should he try to change things up a little bit and act more romantic, maybe throw in a few pick-up lines? The latter seemed like the right way to go, but would Mustafa appreciate it? How would he react if Neville wasn’t acting like his true self? Would he even be able to tell? So many questions were flitting through Neville’s mind, but not a single answer arose.

He was staring down at a few shirts that he had laid out on his bed. After going through everything that he had in his closet, he was down to the final two options -- a plain black polo and a dark purple dress shirt. On one hand, purple was his favorite color, so he was tempted to pick that one. On the other hand, he felt like a dress shirt was too formal, and the polo seemed like the better option. “Why is this so complicated?” He grumbled aloud, crossing his arms.

“Why is what so complicated?” Neville jumped and spun to face the doorway, spotting Wade standing there, looking confused.

“Nothing, nothing!” He assured, forcing a smile to his face. “Don’t worry about it.” Christ, he’d completely forgotten to mention the date to him. He knew that the moment he admitted to Wade that he was seeing Mustafa, he would be teased to the high heavens. Under absolutely no circumstances could he find out about it.

“You were staring pretty intently down at those shirts.” He sauntered into the room. “Why?”

“U-Uh… yeah! Yeah, I was! That’s because I… was debating which of the two to give away! Y’know, to charity! I figured I already had so many of these damn things that someone else could use them more than me.”

Wade looked impressed. “Well that’s awfully nice of you. I probably have some old stuff that I can give away too.”

“We’re a very charitable household, aren’t we? Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He tried to usher Wade out of the room.

“Woah, woah, what’s the rush? You’re acting like you’re hiding something.”

“Me? Hiding something? No, no, I would never hide anything from you!”

“If you’re not hiding anything, then why are you trying to get rid of me? At least let me see something before you kick me out.” Wade shooed him away and picked up the purple shirt, looking at the tag. “If you’re gonna give one of these two away, it should be this one. It’s definitely too small on you now.”

“You think?”

“Mm. It’d be way too tight on you. Keep the black one, you look good in it.” He made to toss the shirt in Neville’s direction. “Maybe you can give it to Mustafa when you go on your date.”

Neville suddenly became rigid, and as a result made no attempt to catch the shirt, which landed on his head. “...Excuse me?” His voice was small and a little muffled.

“You know, your date. The one you guys are going on. When is it, by the way? I’m a little foggy on the details.”

“Wait, wait, how do you know we’re going on a date?! We’re not!” Neville snatched the shirt off of his head, dropping it to the floor. “Who told you that?!”

“Daisy.” Wade shrugged, as if it were obvious. “I asked her and Jen why you hadn’t come home with them and she told me that you went to Mustafa’s house for a little while. I gotta admit, Nev, you were over there for quite some time...” He pursed his lips at him.

“Was it really that long?”

“Close to an hour. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you two were getting… up to something.” He smirked. “If you catch my drift.”

Neville’s face grew bright red, and he took a deep breath. “We were just talking, no big deal. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you were talking about? Since it’s not a big deal.”

“The weather,” Neville answered a little quickly, but it was the best that he could come up with.

“It took you that long to talk about the weather?”

“Well,… We had a long talk about… climate change…” This is getting worse before it gets better. “That kinda stuff takes longer than just a few minutes to talk about, y’know? Mustafa can be very wordy when he gets on a subject he’s really passionate about.”

Wade blinked at him, clearly not convinced. Still, he sighed, and he started to back out of the room, keeping his gaze locked on Neville. “Fine, whatever. Don’t tell me. I get it. Whatever you guys discussed was a secret. I won’t pry--” As he said this, Neville’s phone vibrated on top of his dresser, and Wade grabbed it before Neville could even react.

“Hey, give me that!!” Neville lunged at him, only to be held back effortlessly by one of Wade’s arms.

“‘Moose’?!” Wade laughed, holding the phone high above Neville’s head as he read the preview of the text. “That’s the name you gave him in your phone? Seriously?”

“Stop!”

“‘Does Saturday at two work for you?’ Well, does it work, Nev? Better let him know before he gets mad and cancels your little date.” Wade was smirking now, his tongue darting out of his mouth and running along his lower lip. He handed over the phone at long last. “Oh, God , I love being right about things.”

After snatching the device from his hands, Neville made another attempt to shove him out of the room. “This is why I was so hesitant to tell you, because I knew you would pull this bullshit!”

Wade stood rooted in place, looking down at Neville with surprise written on his face. He would normally make some comment about how Neville owed yet another dollar to Jen’s swear jar, but something about the tone in his voice kept him from doing so. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to tell you about the date because I knew all you were going to do was tease me -- like you’ve been doing all this time! God, I can’t even breath in the direction of Mustafa’s house without you making some sort of comment about when our wedding date was going to be.” Neville huffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and unlocking his phone.

Wade remained silent during the minute that it took Neville to confirm the time and day, and he finally spoke again once Neville had tucked his phone safely in his pocket. “Did my teasing really bother you that much, Nev? You don’t usually get this upset.”

“I was fine with it in the beginning, but you ran it into the damn ground. A few lighthearted comments here and there is fine, but that’s not what you did. I couldn’t even mention him without you saying something. I went over to his house not too long ago and you spammed me with ridiculous texts. And then there’s what you just did! You kept my phone from me all so you could tease me over the texts he sent me. That’s not just simple teasing.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? If it really bothered you, then I definitely would’ve stopped.”

“Except I did tell you! I told you the very first time you did it. I said that I wasn’t interested in getting with Mustafa and was under the impression that you were going to stop -- y’know, like you said you were going to . Clearly, I was wrong.” He sighed. “I’ve known he’s wanted to take me out for awhile now, you know.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah, he asked me a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you were never going to let me hear the end of it.”

Wade looked like he wasn’t sure what to say. “Damn…” He clicked his tongue. “I didn’t realize you were this hurt.”

“It’s not that I’m hurt , just frustrated.” Neville felt his phone vibrate again, and he took a quick look, smiling when he saw Mustafa’s excited response (and feeling his heart skip a beat at the purple heart emoji at the end of the text).

“...Hey, Nev…” Wade started, sitting down next to him. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you mean it? Or are you just saying it because you know I’m mad at you?”

“Of course I meant it. Listen, I never would have said anything if I’d known just how much this was bugging you.”

“But you did know.”

“I know, and I feel bad for not listening. We tease each other all the time, so I figured that you’d be okay with it.” After a beat, Wade spoke again, snapping his fingers. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“Oh God.” Neville rolled his eyes. “What now ?”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

“I’ll help you get ready for your date!”

“You-- Excuse me?” Neville’s eyes were wide. “You’re going to help me?”

“Of course! That’s what friends do, right?” Wade put an arm around Neville’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “And you and I are friends, right? Right ? You’re not gonna kick me out or anything?”

Neville sighed. “No, not yet ,” he replied. Wade was a jackass, but he was Neville’s jackass. “As long as you don’t keep beating a dead horse with this Mustafa thing, I won’t have to give you the boot. A joke now and again is fine, but don’t make a huge deal about it.”

“Can I still tease you about other stuff?”

“...Fine.”

“Thank God .”

Saturday came too quickly.

In the end, Neville had decided on wearing the polo. He was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, buttoning the shirt right up to his neck. “Does this look good?” He asked, slicking back his hair with his hand and looking at Wade’s reflection.

Wade was behind him, leaning against the doorframe and looking unimpressed. “You do realize that you don’t have to button it up like that, don’t you?” He pointed out. “Mustafa’s gonna think you’re a geek.”

“But I can’t just walk around with it unbuttoned! It’ll feel… weird.”

“Not as weird as Mustafa laughing at you over your choice of fashion. Here, lemme fix it.” Before Neville could retort, Wade approached him, reaching over and quickly undoing the top button. “Heh, been awhile since I did that. I’m still an expert at unbuttoning your shirts.”

“Shut up!” Neville looked away in an attempt to hide his red face. “God, of all days you could have chosen to fuck with me, you choose today ?”

“I’m not fucking with you! I’m showing support for my best friend as he goes out on a date . His first one in ages!” Wade gave him a pat on the back. “My little boy’s all grown up now…”

“Shut up …” Neville grumbled again, pushing past Wade and exiting out into the hallway. He felt his phone vibrate as he was going down the stairs, and he checked once he was at the bottom. “Mustafa’s waiting for me in his car.” He breathed out. “I should probably head over now.”

“You nervous?”

“Of course. I can’t even remember the last time I was this nervous for something.” Neville felt like he was back in high school, about to make a big presentation in front of the entire class. His stomach was doing backflips.

“Just remember the expert advice I gave you the other day,” Wade said as he guided him over to the door.

“You mean the advice you stole from Google?”

“No, WikiHow.” Wade began to count on his fingers as he said, “Be yourself, compliment him when appropriate, don’t act like a dork -- I know you’ll have a lot of trouble with that one--”

“Wade…”

“--wear a condom--”

“ Wade .”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it!” Wade snorted, opening the door up for Neville. “Your reaction was priceless .”

“Of all the people I could’ve befriended, I just had to choose you…” Right as Neville was about to walk out, he suddenly stopped. “Oh, and be sure to tell the girls that I’m just out running an errand if they ask where I am,” he said.

Wade frowned. “Fine, but… why don’t you want to tell them the truth?”

“Because I don’t want them to get their hopes up. I mean, there’s no guarantee that this date will even go well. If I tell them where I’m going, they might get excited. I don’t want them to be crushed.”

Wade shook his head, an amused look on his face. “You’re overthinking this, you know that? You and I both know that this date is going to go fine.”

“Can you say that for sure? Or are you just speculating?”

“The only one speculating here is you , Nev. I personally think you should tell them.”

“Fine, then how about this?” Neville started. “If by some chance there is a second date -- and that’s a big if -- then I’ll tell them.”

“Sounds good to me.” Wade chuckled when he saw Neville reach for his phone again, having received another text from Mustafa. “Don’t keep your boy waiting any longer. Have fun, and remember what I said about the condom.”

“I’d kill you if I wasn’t running late.”

Neville waited until after the door had shut behind him to hastily redo his top button, throwing a glare back at the house even though he knew Wade couldn’t see him. He made his way to the sidewalk and caught sight of Mustafa’s car, sitting in his driveway next door. Taking a deep breath, Neville walked towards it, approaching the passenger’s side door and giving the window a little knock to get Mustafa’s attention.

“There you are!” Mustafa grinned at Neville once he was inside. “I was beginning to wonder where you were. Everything good, Adrian?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Neville replied with a grin of his own. “I just got held up by Wade for a little bit. Sorry about that.”

“No worries! We’re not in any real rush or anything.” He assured as he began to back the car up. “I’m just glad I get to hang out with you.”

“Aww…” Neville turned away to look out of the window, hoping to hide his rosy cheeks. “...Could I ask you for a possibly weird favor?”

“Oh boy.” He chuckled. “What’s up?”

“Do you think you could just call me ‘Neville’?”

“What for?”

“I’ve never been big on ‘Adrian’, to be honest. I usually ask my friends to call me by my last name. And, well… we’re definitely friends now, so…”

“I get where you’re coming from. If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to do it, Nevy .” He gave Neville a little pat on the shoulder. ‘Nevy’? And I thought Wade just calling me ‘Nev’ was silly.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Neville finally looked over at him again, taking in all of his features. Now that he had decided to give dating another chance, it was like he was looking at Mustafa a whole new way. Everything about him, from his soft hair to his entrancing eyes, was suddenly even more attractive.

Neville hadn’t even noticed that they’d stopped at a red light until Mustafa looked back at him, the little snort he let out bringing him back to reality. “What?”

“U-Uh, what?” Smooth. Real smooth.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Am I? Huh. I didn’t notice.” Neville took a deep breath. “You… You look really good today, you know that?”

Mustafa’s eyebrows raised, and he smiled again. “Thanks!” The light changed, and he continued to drive. “You look nice, too. I love the shirt.”

“Do you?” Neville was a little surprised. “I personally think it’s too… dressy. I don’t own any casual clothes, honestly.” He noticed that Mustafa was wearing jeans and a t-shirt -- clothes that were actually fitting for the occasion.

“What are you talking about? You look great. The only thing about your look that I’ll criticize is the top button.”

“Come on, you too?!” Neville groaned. “Wade was giving me hell for this button earlier. Kept saying that I should unbutton it or else I’ll look like a geek.”

“I mean, you kinda do…”

“Hey!”

“A cute geek, though!” Mustafa continued. “A very, very cute geek.”

He just said that I’m cute… “Your flattery is noted. And appreciated,” he added as they pulled up to the coffee shop.

“Well, if you want more casual clothes, maybe I can take you out shopping one day.” He turned the car off. “Let’s hope this place lives up to the hype. One of the other teachers was raving about it the other day.”

Just as Neville was about to get out of the car, Mustafa suddenly grabbed his arm, and he froze up. He only grew even more tense as Mustafa leaned in, his other hand reaching towards Neville’s face…

...And moving down to his top button.

“How can you breathe with it like that?” He teased as he undid it. Neville wanted to retort, but he was too distracted by how close their faces were, the hint of mint on Mustafa’s breath causing his heart to skip a beat. “There we go. Much better.”

“T-Thanks for making me look like less of a geek.”

“Oh, you still look like one. But, like I said before, you’re also cute. Adorable, even.” He winked. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

After panicking for a few more seconds, Neville followed Mustafa out of the car, grinning at him as he held the door open for him and walking into the shop. It was as busy as Neville expected, most of the tables taken already. He was able to spot a free one in the very back. “Should I go grab that one?” He asked.

“Yeah. You get get a table, and I’ll get our stuff. What do you want?”

“Um…” Neville remembered back to Wade’s advice from before, when he said that Neville should just be himself. “Just a plain black coffee is fine.” Whatever Wade tells you to do, always do the opposite.

Mustafa smiled confusedly. “Are you sure? No sugar or milk or anything?”

“No, just black.”

“If you say so.” He gave Neville a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Neville hurried over to the table and sat down, looking around at the other faces in the cafe. From what he could tell, most of the patrons appeared to be college students, the majority of them hunched over a laptop and typing away. The semester had only just started, and yet it already looked as if they were swamped with assignments. Neville remembered those days, and he didn’t miss them one bit.

Now that Neville gave it some thought, if someone had told his college-aged self that this was where he would be in ten years time, he would laugh in their face. While he was still in school, Neville had big plans for his future. He was pursuing a Psychology degree, planning on possibly even becoming a school psychologist one day. He even had a lovely girlfriend, who he was dreaming of marrying once they both graduated.

Fast forward to the present. Neville didn’t have an established career -- he was working an office job. That girlfriend who he was so sure he loved wasn’t even in his life anymore. Not only that, but he’d been entirely wrong about his sexuality. It was certainly… interesting how things turned out for him.

He couldn’t dwell on these thoughts for much longer, however, as Mustafa had suddenly approached his table, sitting across from him. “I still think you’re a bit nuts for getting plain black, by the way,” he teased as he handed over Neville’s drink.

“Oh, hush,” Neville replied. “I’m more than capable of handling this.” He took a sip, trying with all his might not to make a face at the taste. He knew it was going to be bitter, but this was far more than he was expecting. Maybe I should’ve gone with tea instead...

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Neville waved his hand, clearing his throat. “Let’s talk about something else now, shall we?”

“Hmm, like what?”

“Like…” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Why’d you move? Something wrong with your old neighborhood?”

“Not at all,” Mustafa said, taking a sip of his own drink -- a chai latte. “I had a lot of great neighbors. It was a great place to live, but I really needed to move. The commute to work was becoming a real pain in the ass.”

“Why?”

“I was almost always late. It was like no matter what time I left the house, I could never get to the school on time.”

“And things are easier for you now?”

“Mm.” He nodded. “Definitely. It only takes me a few minutes to get there.”

“Good to hear.” Silence fell, and Neville suddenly felt awkward. Is he waiting for me to ask something else? Or is he just thinking of something to ask me? “Is teaching hard?” He decided to say.

“It can be. Like, for the most part the kids are well behaved, so that’s not the issue. I’m more worried that I’m not doing a good job.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I dunno.” He tapped his fingers on the side of his cup. “I’ll see that one of my students got a bad grade on a test, and I’ll feel like it’s my fault somehow. I should have done a better job teaching them, y’know?” He stared down at the table.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it, mate.” Neville reached over and patted him on the arm. “Sometimes, people get bad grades. It’s part of life. Doesn’t mean that it’s your fault or anything -- maybe the kid just didn’t study enough.”

“I guess… Still, I feel like I could always do better. I’m far from perfect.” He rested his arms on the table, leaning forward. “Tell me a little about your job, now!”

Neville snorted. “What do you wanna know?”

“Literally anything.”

“Well, it’s boring as hell,” he explained with a shrug. “Only so many ways you can make writing emails exciting. Probably the most exciting thing to ever happen to me during a shift was when Wade texted me that he was planning on going in for a job interview soon. He didn’t get the job, by the way.”

“He’s struggling to get one, huh?”

“Sadly, yeah. It’s tough finding a job in this day and age.”

“True…”

Yet again they both went quiet, and Neville started to once more feel awkward. What else should I ask him about? He had already asked about his old neighborhood and his job. Should he even ask any more questions? Was Mustafa going to ask him something first?

He didn’t have to fret for very long, however, as he received his answer a moment later. “So, speaking of Wade… There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Mustafa wore a coy smile. “I hope you don’t think it’s a weird question, but I’m super curious.”

“Oh boy.” Neville laughed. “Well, go on. Ask away.”

“So… About you and Wade…” Mustafa sipped at his drink again, peering at Nev from over the rim of the cup. “What’s the deal with you two?”

“Well, he’s my friend.”

“Okay.”

“And he’s living with me.”

“Okay.”

“And he helps take care of the girls sometimes.”

“Okay.”

Neville shrugged. “Um… I feel like I’m missing something here.”

“I was just under the impression that there was a little more going on there. You told me before that you two were only friends now, but…” He smirked. “Is that all you’ve ever been?”

Neville grew pink. “You saying that you think Wade and I have dated before?”

“I’m just curious! I don’t have a problem with it or anything. Listen, Wade is hot .”

“Should you really be saying this while you’re on a date with me ?”

“It’s a fact, Neville. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you two have dated -- or if you’ve kissed at the very least.”

Neville took a long sip of his coffee, his grip tightening on the cup both out of embarrassment and due to the bitterness. Was this a real conversation that he was having? He figured that there were a few people who questioned the nature of his and Wade’s relationship, but he didn’t think he would ever actually be called out on it. “Well… I guess there’s no harm in telling you.”

Mustafa beamed at him, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. “Tell me, tell me!”

“...Yes, we dated,” he admitted.

“I knew it!”

“But very briefly. I would say two months tops. We both knew that it wasn’t going to work out in the long run.”

“Why didn’t you guys stay together?”

“It’s like I told you the other day -- while he loves Jen and Daisy, he’s not interested in being a dad. Our relationship was a casual fling at most. Though if you ask him, we were soulmates. So many nights of passion… He’s full of it.” Neville rolled his eyes, forcing another sip of coffee into his mouth.

“Not to change the subject, but… Are you sure you’re enjoying that coffee?” Mustafa chuckled. “You look like you’re being tortured.”

“What? I’m fine! See, look!” Neville brought the cup to his lips again, this time gagging a little as more coffee than he anticipated spilled out and dribbled down his chin. “Dammit…”

Mustafa smiled fondly, grabbing a napkin and starting to gently wipe at Neville’s face. “You’re a mess, you know that?”

“Unfortunately…” Not even halfway through this date, and Neville had already lost track of how many times he’d embarrassed himself. So much more humiliation is yet to come…

“I am not looking forward to going back to work on Monday…” Neville groaned as he leaned his head back against the seat of the car, shutting his eyes. “I always have to get up so early… I miss being able to get a decent night’s sleep.”

“That makes two of us,” Mustafa replied as he pulled into his driveway. “I’ve got too much stuff to grade.”

“Even though it’s only first grade? How many tests you giving these poor kids, Moose?” Neville tensed. “Ah, you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?”

“No, not at all! I love it,” He assured. “But seriously, I don’t give them too much work. It only feels like a lot of work because I haven’t fully adjusted to working again, since school only just started.”

“I wish I got summers off. You teachers don’t realize just how good you’ve got it.”

“It can get a little boring sometimes. For the most part, I’m sitting at home doing nothing. Well, maybe next summer won’t be so boring, since I’ll have you…”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Neville laughed self-derisively. “I’m pretty dull.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s true, though! The only difference between me in the summer and me the rest of the year is that the former is more sunburnt.”

“Except it’s not true.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because I just spent the afternoon with you and had a really nice time. And if you were boring, then I wouldn’t be asking you out on a second date right now.” He quirked his eyebrows up at him. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

“Absolutely!” Neville answered perhaps a little too quickly, and he smiled sheepishly. “I mean, sure.”

“Excellent. I’ll text you later and we can work out the details.” He smiled.

They both exited the car, Neville waiting until Mustafa had come around to him before saying, “Thanks a lot for today. I enjoyed myself.”

“Even though you looked like you were suffering for the most part?”

“I’m telling you, I regularly drink black coffee.”

“I’m sure you do, Nevs. I’m sure you do.” Before Neville had a chance to retort, Mustafa suddenly leaned in, placing a quick smooch on Neville’s cheek. “I’ll catch you later, ‘mkay?”

“’K…’Kay.” Neville blinked, watching as Mustafa walked towards his house before hurrying off in the direction of his own home.

Neville wasn’t sure when exactly the next date would be, but he knew that it couldn’t come soon enough.

#neville #adrian neville #mustafa ali #wwe fanfiction #mustafa x neville #jess.txt #long post

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wakabond-blog · 6 years

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PyeongChang Men’s SP Reaction

FOREWARNING: someone remind me to never do this again I literally sweat through my shorts going through this emotional earthquake

I had reservations about doing this reaction post but I’m watching the NBC mini-promos for everyone (cue lil’ kid saying that Javi is his ONLY hero <3) competing tonight and all the feels flooding in.

Also gonna put my dream podium out there in advance so I can lay claim to my fantasies before they possibly flop: Yuzu, Nathan, Javi (in that order for Gold, Silver, and Bronze), but ofc the best scenario is that everyone skates well and leaves the ice happy and the gremlin judges can do whatever. I haven’t watched a lot of the earlier-group men this season, but looking at their music choices I’m pretty excited for Julian Zhi Jie Yee’s Build a Home program (P/C’s 2016 FS from Euros that year still sticks with me) and hopefully Yaroslav hits his 4F. Just writing out everyone’s name is getting me hella nervous

THIRTY ONE GUYS UP 4 HOURS FML LET’S GIT TO IT, first group up on warmup ice: ayyy Vincent hitting a nice 4Lz-3T

AHHH NBC dropping me randomly into Felipe Montoya’s program right into a botched 3F-2T; c’mon man AISH U TOOK AWAY JAVIER RAYA’S SPOT FOR THIS uwu I kinda dig the all white costume tho but must be a binch to find from the audience viewpoint

Chafik Besseghier actually into taximan more than during the Team SP like yeah sure NBC say it’s part of “French creativity” but that taxi look is wonky...points for commitment though, right? 77.01 with all those lil’ green boxes gouda job Chafik; also a note on that French quirky creativity comment anyone else remember Brian Joubert trying to “disprove” people calling him gay by doing a nude photoshoot

MY BOI Vincent Zhou HITS DAT 4Lz-3T first at the Olympics with that 4Lz-3T combo!!! gah other two jumps off-axis but damn he has the hardest technical content but man you gotta deliver all of it including rotations and GOE; also *pushes glasses up* Vincent ~almost~ got a perfect ACT score wat u doing get that 36 (LOL AT THE COMMENTATORS SAYING HIS SIS GOT A PERFECT SCORE); BANG 84.53 with some stubby GOEs I can live with that new season’s best YAAAS u chase those cars

Okay so the announcement for Denis Ten is in English over the loudspeakers but there’s like a little interruption when they just repeat the word “Kazakhstan” but in Korean phonetics; REIGNING BRONZE MEDALIST LET’S GO nope there goes the 4S-->2S, NICE triple axel though!, also loving the royal blue shirt, triple lutz triple NO (sorry had to say that), but the music is great kinda operatic but not like a loud Bocelli; considering his injuries and other hurdles this is alright, his entire season had a rough start ALSO the flower girls have dresses that match the rink so QUTE also Frank Carroll is still not retired mkay

Matteo Rizzo NICE 3A also considering that this is choreo’d by his mom this is great, strong Italian vibes, really good lines, straight camel with the leg position above the hip, good rotation; love the arms out of the 3Lz this would be a program I would want to do OKAY NBC WE GET THAT U NEED A QUAD TO GET ON THE PODIUM but friggin Matteo’s job is to make his mom choreo proud also considering how this is by far the biggest stage he’s been on after dethroning Ivan Righini, dis is gr8

Michael Christian Martinez honestly still love his taking YOI in stride basically Phichit IRL, not a great performance by any means, really low score in the 50s sheesh but hey that signature Biellmann though! this first group was alright still looking ahead

Yaroslav Paniot that was rough :/// also he took out the 4F and fell on all 3 passes (I mean he landed on his knee on the axel but like...what do you even call that?) damn Tammy Gambill coaches him too, into last place :(( it’s okay Yaroslav

Yan Han going for that hard nose blow and tissue grab looks intense LOVE THAT HARD SLAP ON THE BARRIER you got this my man, AHHH yas more Twilight, NICE TRIPLE AXEL BEST SO FAR man was that rotation fast, crap that 4T still looking for a clean toe in this comp; also these SPs are passing really quickly, Vincent still in the lead after Han’s 80.63

Julian Zhi Jie Yee OMGOMGOMG okay excited for this, awww love the shot back to the opening ceremony; love his shirt with the slight slit V not intrusive but modern and sleek LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVE it; AHHH THE BEATS OF BUILD A HOME ready for this show off for Malaysia, NICE TRIPLE AXEL he had so much space coming down, maintaining composure, come on GREAT LUTZ halfway mark here come the lyrics and ahhh slipping on the 3F-3T, I think that content should be enough for him to make the FS, lines could be a bit better but his spin levels seem there good for him! Man he really floated on the 3A I’m hoping this’ll go into the low 70s yep 73.58 good score for him

And cue more ice-less places Brendan Kerry kinda attractive in that down-under way, used to be really smol but then hit that caucasian puberty WHOOO first clean 4T of the comp, like the shimmery dark blue shirt, nice 3Lz-3T who needs a quad sal if there’s anything the pairs comp taught us it’s that going clean leaves a greater impression than hard tricks, saved that 3A, this cut of Everybody Wants to Rule the World is so #inspirational someone get me my book of self-affirmations also getting all these coach-skater revelations Nikolai Morozov coaches Kerry?? dang, whoa slots right in behind Vincent with an 83 and change

Moris Kvitelashvili okay who tf put his name as Morisi on the official docs they actually announced his names as that ETERI U ONLY HAVE ONE BOY, bring on the Buble, smooth 3A that flow, def on feelin good on that 4S, after Boyangman’s Spiderman program I’ve grown to have a deeper appreciation for Michael Buble, he’s really tall but one of those lanky awkward guys but eh I give him props for having the gumption to compete for Georgia and getting to compete on Olympic ice

Keegan Messing LOL his intro “actually born in Alaska, proficient Yo-Yo master” aww singin in the rain WOW nice 4T-3T I’m laughin at clouds too Keegan, oof that 3A fall though, very fast spinner no travelling either...okay but seriously can we get RIka Kihira here to give these guys a 3A clinic or something, for a second this really feels like a Javi program, nice 3Lz to finish out the jumps my god I thought his coach was either Eteri/Shawn White c.2010 hair wow 85 taking away the lead from Vincent; 12 men done, 18 left!

This next warmup group Danny wit dat fresh haircut, NBC hyping up the final group omg chill ur horses, Michal with those sleeve ribbons!

Michal Brezina those bedazzled dragons, WOW QUAD sal (okay I thought it was a flip at first), good 3A nothing under review, not to compare but to compare this is like Seimei beta ver., beautiful delayed 3F, also I feel like I hear people clapping along to the drums but I don’t see anyone...it’s prolly the NK cheer squad, this skate should just sneak into 1st, damn his profile sideshot looks like a dinosaur, AWWW RAF lol still surprised by these coaching situations OH BOI lol just into 1st by 0.04 over Keegan

Cha Junhwan c’mon get that gypsy dance on bring the soul of Wakaba to the games (I expect shoulder shimmies), TAKE A DEEEEP breath Brian, wow dicey moment with the 3F-3T but landed flawlessly, even better 3A crowd goes WILDDDD, quick interjection these scores that are starting to pile into the mid-80s are seriously reminding me of the bronze-medal battle in Sochi I mean yeah now there’s a pretty solid list of 5/6 guys for the podium but still..chills..., might have urs but really bringing the energy otherwisein the stsq arms flairs right on the beat of the music (I’ll count those as shimmies) wow first standing O very well deserved all the korean flags!!

Other sidenote you know who’s gonna get more cool team jackets than Marina Zueva? Brian friggin Orser: Canada, Korea, Japan, Spain, Kazakhstan! all those colors!! gotta catch ‘em all and with a score of 83+ Junhwan goes into that pack of mid-80s

Paul Fentz jacksepticeye doppleganger back on the ice, honestly great 3T-3T screw the squad his air position is really good, wow wild like on the 3A but again great air position (honestly this plus straight legs on camel spins are like the must-haves), also loving this jazzy music it works for him, Wonderwall was WUNDERFUL

Interjection of hockey testosterone jeez being a referee in that would be terrifying you’re wearing no padding sheesh

Misha Ge okay srsly what is the point of saying “Uzbekistan” in English and then again in Korean phonetics? not into the brown ombre, good 3A, getting gypsy pirate vibes gawd that spin extension though ta die fo

Cutaway to Yuzu absolutely DESTROYIN that EZ applesauce pouch (okay it’s not applesauce but man is he twistin every last drop out)

And since I’m already doing this huge ass shitpost I might as well comment on some of the commercials, the 23andme thing where Warren Buffett narrates “ill let u choose any car but u only get one you’d take care of it so well right WELL THAT’s UR BODY”...kinda hypocritical coming from a dude who only eats McDs, See’s Candies, Coke and steak...

Jorik Hendrickx awww I actually had no idea his sis Loena made it too, gosh Je Suis Malade reminds me of Adelina’s failed comeback...anyway good 3A to start; I remember how emotional his qualifying through Nebelhorn was enjoy this bb, wow he’s gonna join the mid-80s pack too judges panicking how tf do we separate them AWW Loena clapping so cute and Jorik smiling!! love this

Also screaming about how I can see the final group on my shitpost list getting closer to my cursor *bites nails*

Literally the biggest actual fuqboi of this comp Daniel Samohin is up with a new ‘do that fresh fade also doesn’t he have that company/group thing black wolf white wolf WELL DAMN BLACK WOLF JUST HIT HIS 4T-3T god remember when he destroyed his shoulder at Skate America, whoa first two clean quads of the comp so far who knew flopchild would it get together at the Olympics also classic Daniel guitar solo ay fuq down on the 3A gdi this is why we can’t have nice things LOL also the first skater to finish in the wrong direction, cute lil’ smile at the end though! Also gonna hit the low-80s aww happy tears!!! omg is that Nikolai Morozov yup 80 points and change jeez top 6 all separated by less than 2 points lol

Group 4 on the ice jeez those short sleeves SLAY BOI LOL THESE ADAM PROMOS literally all of the vernacular “fierce, I’m a full prone monster” *smizes* okay I’m going for a walk and hope to be back by Deniss see ya’ll in a quick sec and good luck to the first five in this group...but srsly I gotta get up or else risk carpal tunnel at this point </3

Adam Rippon, Dmitri Aliev

Okay jk I made it back for Patrick Chan midway through his performacne looks like his first couple jump elements were good supposedly missed his 3A he looks really tense damn PChiddy it’s alright (sidenote his chest looks bigger than I remember), also ofc Dimi is in the lead now with a tech score over 50

Keiji Tanaka, Alexei Bychenko both happened but I took a shower to be clean for some clean skates

Also isn’t it crazy how Deniss is literally skating right before Yuzu man those world standings were a bit of a surprise at first Deniss Vasiljevs (jk my shower also overran his performance so I’m looking at the protocols rn but hey, good thing is my energy’s now conserved for GROUP 6!)

YESS NBC showing (at least part of) the warmup; Javi hits a BOSS 4S so smooth; Nathan’s smiling, Yuzu looks healthy! my god seeing all the faves on ice together warming up at the OLYMPIC stage is just *clutches chest* a lil’ too much for a casual Thursday evening; okay one more set of commercials and we are off to the RACES!!!

Yuzuru Hanyu TAKES THE ICE the first bars of Ballade a personal fave piece, breatheee, head roll, sway,ohmigod you could hear the sound of a pin dropping, come one quad sal to open...YES OH MY GOD NICE 13 POINTS!!! for that one element, great donut spin, 1 2 3 1 2 3 getting all of his levels ofc great character in spins timed to music, love the sound of his blades BLIND MOHAWK INTO 3A TRADEMARK HIT IT’S HAPPENING ONLY THE COMBO LEFT IS HE GONNA DO THE RIPPON ON THE END YES NICE HE HIT IT OH MY FUQQIN GOD THE POOHS THE OBAACHANS IN THE AUDIENCE THIS IS SERIOUSLY MAGICAL BEAT THAT WOWOWOW THE POOH BEARS RAIN DOWN AGAIN I have never seen so many thrown down at once at him DAMN; this is a true champion, my god yes yes YES!!!! my god I don’t know how get got that 3T WITH RIPPON out at the end lol Ghislain Briand and B Orser jumping; WORLD RECORD GIVE IT TO HIM NEVER DOUBT YU.ZU.RU. HAN.YU; BAM 111 triple ONES BEAT THAT YESS AND HE’S SMILING

OKay okay I gotta calm down for Nathan Chen the Poohs are cleared, yes this is a POTO costume but he looks good; GOD DAMN IT CAMERAMAN YOU MISSED THE FUQQIN DIP YOU HAD ONE JOB ARGHHHH, blade sounds are louder than YUZUS BUT HERE COMES THE 4LZ...OH SHIT MY GOD AND THE QUAD TOE JESUS FUCKING HELL IT WASN’T A COMBO either wow...I’m speechless..come one Nate finish it out finish it out OH FUCKING...33 TECHSCoRE?!?!?!?!?!? He’s still breathing though, looks alright, okay he’s still honestly so young and I understand he exudes this chill outlook which is great but all the pressure had to have gotten him (or he just got unlucky with this bad day :///) nerves?? I know there’s still the free skate left but I want him to walk away from all this feeling okay, not hating skating or anything and making a comeback (hopefully??) in Beijing and maybe having a Chloe Kim kind of moment OH FUQ 13th place 82+...my god

Mikhail Kolyada actually shaking his head after seeing Nathan’s scores we’re all shocked buddy; but skate well hit that sky-high lutz loving your mozart, come on come one; okay triple honestly I just don’t want to see any more thuds on the ice that’s good oh fuck...4T a goner out of the four disciplines this is the one that has the least assured gold medalist and maybe that’s contributing to the nerves? It’s okay Mikhail, your 3A was pretty, and YAY GOT A SMILEY SPASIBO y’know at the Olympics all I can hope for as a spectator is that everyone skates happy and goes as big and clean as possible and leaves happy or at least not too hard on themselves and I know that’s easy to say but so much of sports/life in general is psychological and it just pains me to think of how these guys might react to this under-delivered performances

Shoma Uno smolma please whisk us away with Winter, literally gonna bounce the fuq off of Shrooma if he lands everything please save this; NICE 4F, lines ofc can’t compete with Hanyu but you know...World Silver...he’s got the goods, get those clean edges, skating skills, stsq levels, okay 4T YES YES YES 3T great my god SHOMA SAVES THE TRIPLE AXEL PRAISE AWWWW THE SMILE!!!!! FUCKING MELTING FOR THIS DARK HORSE WHO BTW IS WORLD SILVER REIGNING, MY GOD THIS IS CLUTCH; AND HE HAS HIGHLIGHTS TAKE THAT BINCH, ugh I’m so conflicted right now with all of these flops and clean skates and my head is muddled guessing 106 okay okay lowballed the components gets a 104 also had to save a couple landings I get it but THOSE THUNDERTHIGHS SAVING THE DAY

Javier Fernandez oh please please please all I want is for you to bring home a medal GIVE US CHAPLIN GIVE US 4S AND 4T3T THIS IS YOUR CHANCE GO FOR IT, NICE ON THE COMBO, NICE 4S HOLY HELL ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY MOM FOR RECOGNIZING THIS AS CHAPLIN U KNOW HE’S DOING HIS JOB and that AMAZING TRIPLE AXEL; so lovely oh my god this is beautiful, tbh I think my mom is actually falling in love with him “his costume looks so good on him O.O” she’s predicting he’ll win and my mom is like...never wrong so...okay tech score just exactly 60, I’m hoping 109 range oh my god GIVE HIM THE PCS IF NOT FOR HIM FOR MY MOM OH MY GOD

HYPING UP Jin Boyang for my mom okay come on GIVE US THAT CROUCHING TIGER MAGIC, LORI CHOREO DO UR FUQQIN $10K MAGIC, AMAZING 4LZ-3T, ONE OF THE BEST 4T, OG QUAD KING TARA MENTION THAT YES YES *DOES MERYL MEME POINTING FINGERS*, BEAT DRUM DROP, ERHU YES THAT 3A OH MY GOD YES YES YES JIN GO GO GO YES THE KARATE HANDS IN THE SIT SPIN, WORD THE STSQ YOU’RE GETTING ALL OF THE LEVELS GO GO GO THIS IS YOUR LAST ELEMENT HIT THE POSES GET THE EDGES GET THE TURNS KICK TWIZZLES BUTTERFLY KICK YES FIST PUMP YES YES YES YES YESSSSSS MY GOD YES GIVE HIM A SCORE TO COMPETE WITH SHOMA 104+, okay okay I can work with 103.32

Okay wow so heading into the FS tomorrow:

-Nathan, get that redemption skate, go big, go clean, love it, love yourself

-Yuzuru: bring that Seimei power, work your natural magic, be yourself, keep the intensity, and just let it flow

-Javi: VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS BE QUIXOTE, get your own redemption from Sochi (also lol I don’t think it matters what happens in the end but you’ve already won in my mother’s heart)

-Shoma: SHOOM SHOOM INTO OUR HEARTS EVEN MORE, channel your 2017 Worlds Diva moment, do it do it DO IT

-Boyang: BRING THE STAR WARS HIT US WITH THAT ANGELIC SAUCE

#text #reactions #pyeongchang 2018 #olympics 2018 #too extra

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shaydraplays · 5 years

Text

okay, here are the liveblogs of the entirety of she-ra season 1

because i don’t know how to consume media responsibly

see individual episodes under the cut:

ep1 - catra fucking purred with excitement, i had to go back to confirm, the furries are back at it again - and she sleeps at the foot of adora's bed... incredible - does she just sleep with her helmet on? wait i guess all these soldiers don't have sleep clothes, but still? - the adora-glimmer-beau fight scene was hilarious. beau and glimmer just straight up screaming at adora with enough force to shake? excellent. - the way glimmer runs with the sword away from danger is SO good - glimmer just DOESN'T stop screaming and honestly, mood - lmao

ep2 - jesus CHRIST the opening is physically killing me - the amount of times beau's voice breaks - the way they animated people moving is just top notch in general - the voices also... very good - hell yeah floppy eared deer people - neigh - incatrible - damn just keep tasing her i guess... rude - catra fucking bodice ripping the netting hell yeah - the transformation makes her and the sword slightly taller like, why??? - :C catra - "wait, whose horse was this" well it's yours now

ep3 - beau's voice continues to be excellent - the amount of screaming beau and glimmer do on average is also excellent - how are you not enraptured by horsie rolling in the grass next to you? - omg pegacorn floppin around - beau and glimmer are masters of the "oh shit" run. trot? - granny is cute - catra has such disaster lesbean vibes - i dont have my glasses you'll have to speak up - how does horsie's wings keep changing color - also i've completely accepted the ridiculosity of all these names but still... - the arc werewolf man makes when kicked - thank u for validating me swiftwind - wait where do you put the sword when not in use

ep4 - how's they get adora's horde jacket out of the bushes near that village? also she lost her force captain pin rip - so do they just never change clothes? i had high hopes from adora putting on stuff to cover the horde symbol but i guess not - aw sleebover - okay they have no sleep clothes here either - general is hot - did catra draw princess on a horse or - zarkon is a twink now. twunk? - is that jasper's voice for that side character - the beast of beast island - those are not tree destruction foley sounds - yeah stop the machines poisoning ur land! environmentalism! - this is a small kingdom. these kingdoms are all really small? - you've been friends for like 2 days - where did they get horde outfits - beau's lil exclamations are.... Good - YAY SLEEBOVER

ep5 - something tells me adora doesn't like boats - i HAVE to mute the theme song. just, wow - go fish........ - who voices scorpia because Nice - nice violin - mermista is relatable - "They're coming right for the Gate!" mermista's big groan is a mood - is catra's MO from now on just gonna be to leap up to wherever Adora is doing hero things and monologue at her - i wanna be on 8-foot-tall woman's side as well - lmao christen the ship right there

ep6 - lmao glimmer's face when she-ra boutta bust it open - only tiny food........ - drunk adora is cute - did they just leave the sword - fizzy lifting drinks - okay so the sword is just animated when its convenient, otherwise i guess adora vores it or something

ep7 - that last episode was trite so now im gonna draw while watching - i love when they reference adora's depressing upbringing. "no i don't know what an aunt is but i was hoping someone would eventually explain". also beau is a bro - so lightspinner is shadowsneaker or whatever, right - naptime - i hope they explain who greyskull is etc sometime - do you not know what a pillow is why are you lying backwards - adora trust ur friends more pls it's been at least a week by now - thats new - catra no

ep8 - soooo prom means they'll change their clothes right - damn scorpia's a princess, what does it mean that they gave up their gemstone thing? no magic? - a true soldier by upbringing, adora - hell YEAH catra in a tux - neau just gotta wear a croptop - how are they gonna let catra in her whole bodys a weapon - hell yeah these ppl snazzy as fuck - so what the fuck is swiftwind doing these days anyway - adora is me. hormf snacks - man scorpia why cant u just let ppl chill - hell yeah sexual tension dance time - how do they know how to dance - catra is smooth - "you don't understand" ouch that is like the worst thing to say to smol frost princess - catra no - "I don't want you to" man she is such a... kovu's mom in lion king 2 or 3

ep9 - beau maDE THEM FIGURINES IM CRY - rip mermista - captain dude is so dumb - scorpia is going to kill u - this rebellion is clearly not combat ready - the black garnet is the one that scorpia's family gave the horde right? - really digging the low res pixels of the cell door being kicked for some reason - kyle pls - beau's expressions are SO good - well this sucks - if adora actually got her memories wiped and rejoined the herd and catra had to pretend that everything was normal man that'd be a good fanfic - glimmer thats very anime of u - catra, a lil bitch as always - damn, nice lighting - THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I LIKE YOU B-BAKA - catra no - damn, she really just got incinerated right in front of the team, huh - had to let the sad end credits music play this time, alexa play despacito

ep10 - "yeah that sure smells like concrete" thanks scorpia - adora is SO excited that she can use magic - i had to look it up but yeah i can definitely hear the amethyst in catra's voice now - yeah entrapta didn't seem like she gave much of a shit in the first place - hell YEAH she just jumps out the window - it's pretty incredible that they haven't miscolored catra's eyes yet, at least that i saw - thank u for coming back to the original disagreement and hashing it out, hell yeah emotional intelligence - just tell ur mom, blease - when queen mom is holding glimmer as she glitches... wow that's very adult fear of you - why do they not animate the sword and backbacks whenever it pleases them? i can excuse magical sword bullshit but c'mon catra needs to eat - hell yeah trippy psychological horror episode PLEASE - catra no

ep11 - hell yeah time for the "save my archnemesis frenemy from being killed by nonsentient technology ostensibly on my side, only to receive zero gratitude and probable betrayal from said frenemy" episode - their interactions are SO good - keeping things close to your chest and not saying anything about entrapta, nice - blease i just want them to be frens again - BAPY CATRA YES - FLOFF - BLEASE - FRENS - tween catra is EXTRA FLOFF - really telling that all their good memories are of getting chased by superiors and fighting each other. fucking horde - teen lizard's hair is good - catra's pretty good at saving herself. can she do it in the way that matters, though? - part cat, part monkey - well then, this memory probably doesn't end happily - oh, maybe this'll give adora hints on how to heal glimmer - fucking shadow... slipper. fuck u - jesus christ well this is just the writing on the wall for why catra can hate adora so easily. fuck u shadow sneak - bapy.... she hiss - w o w

ep12 - creepy. yes. i have been called this before. i n c r e d i b l e - hell yeah aliens - oh my god it speaks - man, what is EVEN scorpia's deal besides comic relief... horde is real bad at cultivating friendship - hack the p l a n e t - god damn, speaker baby imp is creepy. also how did catra not hear/smell that, maybe all horde shit smells similar - so entrapta doesn't have her corresponding gemstone? also oooooh, that's what the moonstone is. - adora, you made a self-cognizant horse, look at it now, it's got self-assurance and helpful words that also perpetuate the message that all domestic or captive animals are suffering, but in a joking manner

ep13 - ok, last ep of season 1, oh boy. can't wait to read all the post s1 fanfic - how did they... switch seating order... c'momn dreamworks - so why is entrapta a princess if she doesn't have a gemstone - WHY is beau still baring his midriff? in armor??? - wait so you can stand on water now? - stop monologueing holy shit - i guess there just isn't water? - k, deus ex machina and big damn heroes, i guess - nice combo attacks - she ra said gay rights. happy wrath month everyone - catra.......... no

#shaywatches shera #she ra #she ra netflix #text post #liveblog

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myhollywoodnews-blog · 6 years

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The Weeknd SLAMS Selena Gomez & Wants Bella Hadid Back In Cryptic New Lyrics?

Jeremy Brown - Latest News - My Hollywood News

The Weeknd SLAMS Selena Gomez & Wants Bella Hadid Back In Cryptic New Lyrics?, Hollywood Celebrity Rewards.

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List Of 2018 Hollywood Films Upcoming Celebrity News 2017 by Walt Hollywood Studios is an American film studio, one of the four major businesses of The Walt Hollywood Company and the main component of its Studio Entertainment segment.

What are the names of Walt Hollywood’s brothers and sisters?

Walter Elias Hollywood was born December 5, 1901, in Chicago, Illinois, to Elias and Flora Hollywood. His siblings were Herbert, Ray, Roy, and Ruth. Roy later helped his brother make the Hollywood Company a success.

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We’re decoding The Weeknd’s surprising new album lyrics, and it sounds like Selena Gomez might have really broken his heart…

But while SelGo may have broken his heart, it might have always belonged to Bella Hadid the whole time…

Last night at midnight, The Weeknd surprised fans by dropping a new six-track album, called “My Dear Melancholy”. A number of the tracks seem to reference his breakups with exes Selena Gomez and Bella Hadid, so of course we’re OBSESSED with breaking down the tunes lyric by lyric to try and figure out what went down in these relationships and breakups –from Abel’s perspective.

The track “Call Out My Name” seems to be about his relationship with Selena Gomez, and according to the lyrics, she really broke his heart.

He starts off singing QUOTE, “We found each other/ I helped you out of a broken place/ You gave me comfort/ But falling for you was my mistake.” When Selena and Abel started dating, SHE was coming out of a pretty dark period of depression because of her having Lupus, meanwhile he was still getting over his breakup with Bella Hadid.

He also sings the lyrics QUOTE, “I put you on top, I put you on top / I claimed you so proud and openly”, and we all know how OPEN he was about his PDA with SelGo–he attended the Met Gala with her, they took a trip to Europe, AND he was always posting gorgeous snaps of Selena on his Instagram, showing off his support and pride.

At one point, The Weeknd seems to make a dig at Selena getting back with Justin Bieber, singing QUOTE, “Guess I was just another pit stop / ‘Til you made up your mind”. Ouch.

But perhaps the biggest bombshell in the song is where The Weeknd suggests he might have at offered to donate HIS kidney for Selena’s kidney transplant.

As you can hear, he sings QUOTE, “I almost cut a piece of myself for your life”. Now THAT is a pretty big revelation if it’s true.

While “Call Out My Name” seems to be all about SelGo, other tracks also seem to hint at Abel’s previous relationship with Bella Hadid.

In the song “Wasted Times,” The Weeknd sings about an “equestrian”, and Bella used to ride horses and even compete in tournaments when she was younger. He sings QUOTE, “You were an equestrian, so ride it like a champion…Wasted times I spent with someone else. She wasn’t even half of you.” And yes, that definitely sounds like a dig at Selena Gomez.

He also sings on that track QUOTE, “You’ve been with me from the beginnin’/ And I know right now that we’re not talkin’ / I hope you know this d*ck is still an option”. Well, that’s one way to suggest that you’re still down to hook up with your supermodel ex!

Obviously there are four more tracks and many more lyrics to decode, so if you guys need me, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Along with the rest of the Twitter because apparently everyone’s obsessed with getting through all the subtext to find out how Abel REALLY feels about Selena and Bella. As one fan put it QUOTE, “We gotta thank Selena Gomez for making The Weeknd go through the pain that he did that caused him to make this album lol”.

As sad as we are that Selena completely broke his heart, we gotta say–it lead to some pretty damn smooth tracks, so I guess thank you Selena and Bella?

So what do you guys think? Give me YOUR breakdown of The Weeknd’s new lyrics in the comments below, and then click over here to see why it looks like Selena and Justin have broken up for good this time. Thanks so much for watching, and be sure to subscribe to our channel for more Clevver News. I’m your host Emile Ennis Jr., and I’ll catch ya later!

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Best Hollywood Celebrities ever, Must Watch English Celebrities, The Weeknd SLAMS Selena Gomez & Wants Bella Hadid Back In Cryptic New Lyrics?.

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 2)

New Girl

Settling into camp and meeting new faces! No warnings necessary for this chapter really, let me know what you think so far :)

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Enjoy!

The camp felt different in the morning. I hadn't moved from the spot I'd been put in the previous night but I could see better now, saw just how populated the place was. I heard music playing again, this time from a phonograph rather than a guitar. People were dotted around the place sipping on mugs of hot coffee, some people were still lounging where they slept. Mary-Beth had lent me one of her dresses to wear, considering the previous day's events had left me in a chemise. A feller smoking a cigar standing outside a tent not far from me kept looking over; he was dressed mighty finely, smart black vest with golden watch chains, a nice hat on his head. He didn't look like someone camping out in a tent, but he sure looked like he owned the place.

In the light of day I realised where I was, I hadn't been able to tell in the dark, but I recognised it. I planned on asking John when he came over to me with two mugs in his hands, offering one out to me. I greeted him as he asked; “how're you feeling this morning?”

“A little better. Still feel a little fuzzy but my head's not pounding no more,” my voice was all scratchy from the screaming I'd been doing. I held onto the mug of coffee he'd given me and inhaled, thanking him. It'd been a while since I'd had coffee, it smelled good.

“Good. I was worried about you last night, I don't know much about head injuries but… you know,” he was staring at me a little too intently. Well, not really me, my face and the state it was in.

“How ugly do I look?” I cut to the chase and he chuckled.

“Not half as ugly as me,” he gestured to the fresh looking scars on his own face. I could've disagreed about him being anything close to ugly now that I was seeing him in the daylight, but I kept that to myself. “You're just bruised and swollen, that'll fade.”

“I hope so. Though, 's not like I got anyone to impress anyway,” I shrugged, sipping my coffee. “Is this Horseshoe Overlook?”

“It is,” he nodded, moving to sit down beside me.

“I camped here a while ago, moved on though, felt too open with just my tent and my horse,” I told him.

“You have a horse?”

“Used to, she got stolen by a man in Valentine. Though I suppose it was my fault, I really pissed him off...”

“You know who took her?” he surmised.

I looked at him and considered for a moment how much I wanted to tell him. I decided there wasn't much harm in being open; you didn't get as good at shooting as him by living an honest life. “Not by name. I met him at a bar, thought he was drunker than he was and tried to lift his money. He got me arrested and when I got out – was barely in there ten minutes – she was gone. Feller smoking outside told me my friend took her.”

“I'd have gone after the bastard.”

“Yeah well, I hadn't slept in days and I… I was scared, if I'm honest. I kept telling myself I'd look for her the next day, and then the next day, and the next one, but I just never did. That was weeks ago now,” I sighed sadly, thinking of her and how I missed her. Guilt sat heavy in my stomach.

“I'm sorry. I spoke to Susan last night, I heard about your folks and your brother. Sounds like you ain't had an easy ride these last few years.”

“I'm alive, ain't I?” I shrugged and John offered a small, sad smile. “And partly thanks to you,” I added. John shook his head and went to speak, but was cut short.

“Strauss!” A yell had us both looking up; a gentleman was just riding into camp. He swung down off his horse without hitching it and marched into camp, looking around. He was pretty beefy, all power behind the swing of his arms as he walked, his strong brow was set low over his eyes and his stubbled jaw was tight. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit scared. “Strauss! Where is that slimy fool?”

“I’m coming, Herr Morgan, calm down,” a small, spectacled man came scurrying into view, clinging a ledger to his chest. “I trust the collection went well?” I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic.

“Why you gotta go ‘round lending to sick men?”

“Sick men are desperate, they need the money.”

“Well, that Mr. Downes you sent me to was dead before I got there.”

“His wife is still alive though, no?”

“You expect me to hassle a widow for money when her husband's still warm in his grave? Come on, Strauss. I ain't doing that.”

“You must! We need that money back, Arthur. We aren't a charity.”

“Send someone else!” Arthur, as he'd been named, turned his back on Strauss and started heading off.

“Who do you suppose I send? Tilly?” Strauss questioned, this time he was definitely being sarcastic. The girl in question looked up from where she was washing some clothes by the nearest wagon. “You're the only one who can handle it, Arthur. You must.”

Arthur turned back around, sighing in annoyance and taking a moment. He was staring at the ground, frustrated, unsure. With a final growl he muttered; “I ain't doing it now. I'll go back to Downes’ place when that poor woman's had some time.”

“We can't afford to go easy on people, not with so many new mouths to feed,” Strauss waved his book in my general direction before sweeping off, putting all of Arthur's attention on me.

His expression softened just a little, shifting to surprise. It felt odd, having him look me directly in the eye. Watching that whole thing felt almost like I wasn't really there, or like I was at the theatre, suddenly I was pulled back into the moment. I felt something when I looked at him, something in the far reaches of my mind, a nagging thought that I couldn't grasp.

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times but in the end he just walked away, shaking his head. I let out a puff of breath and looked at John. He was digging his finger in his coffee, wincing as he burned himself over and over.

“Damn bug landed in there,” he explained when he caught me staring. He didn't seem at all fazed by all the shouting.

“That Arthur; I think I recognise him.”

“Arthur? Probably. The guy's had his face plastered on that many bounty posters.”

“I ain't no bounty hunter,” I said as I sipped on my coffee again.

My first day staying at the camp saw me up on my feet again. I didn't seem to have any lasting difficulties resulting from my ordeal, the dizziness I'd experienced was fading enough that I could stand up and lend a hand with some chores; I felt that was the least I could do.

I'd met a few more people; Pearson, whom I found myself getting along with quite well as I helped him cut up some vegetables. Charles, a gentleman I spoke to only briefly and addressed me in a quiet, respectful manner as he welcomed me. Sadie, a lady who I learned had been initiated into the group in a fairly similar way to myself; being pulled from a bad situation with little to go back to. I'd stressed that I wasn't intending to stay to become a permanent feature, but when she questioned what I'd do instead, I drew a blank. I met Hosea, he was a kind man and offered to make me something to put on my bruises to help them fade quicker. I'd politely declined, thinking I looked enough of a mess without walking around with some mashed up herbs smeared on my face as well.

I felt achy and tired but I pushed myself to be useful. By mid afternoon I'd done a fair bit, and was in the process of brushing someone's horse for them when I was approached by the man who I had spotted earlier, in the fancy getup, John by his side.

“Good afternoon, Ms,” he waited until I filled in the blank with my surname. “Glad to finally make your acquaintance. I apologise for not doing so earlier, but I see you've had your hands full,” he gestured to the horse.

“I wanted to do my bit, just a little way of saying thank you for having me last night. I don't mean to intrude, I imagine I'll be leaving soon.”

“You're welcome to stay as long as you need to in order to get back on your feet; especially if you plan on continuing to help with those chores,” he chuckled, reaching to take my hand and give it a gentle squeeze and a shake. “Dutch Van Der Linde.”

The name hit me like a bullet, immediately flashing off images in my head, firing synapses. I took in a sharp breath, eyes widening slightly. The smile on Dutch's face fell.

“Dutch Van Der Linde,” I repeated, my lips moving for me without permission as I glanced past them into the camp, then up at John. “You're Dutch's Boys.”

The two men shared a look, and Dutch's hand moved to his hip, just above his holster. I realised my error immediately.

“Don't worry! I won't tell no one, I promise. You've all been so kind to me. I just… I read in the newspaper about you. The boat, in Blackwater. I was there not long before that happened.”

John looked between Dutch and I with a slight grimace, while Dutch's eyes were planted firmly on him, disapproval plastered all over his face.

“John,” Dutch started softly, taking his elbow in hand and pulling him away. He was still in earshot, and I could hear every word. “This is exactly what I was worried about when you brought her here last night. I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Come on Dutch, she's harmless,” they both looked at me and I panicked, turning back to the horse I'd been brushing and continuing with an unsteady hand.

I wasn't worried about being kicked out of the camp. I'd been trying very hard not to get comfortable as it was, I was accustomed to surviving on my own, getting involved with a group would no doubt chip away at the independence I'd had to build over the past year. Being kicked out of the camp would hardly be an issue. I was more concerned about them murdering me, silencing me for good before I had a chance to cash in on the bounty on the infamous Dutch Van Der Linde. Truthfully, I wasn't interested. Like I'd said to John, I was no bounty hunter; I'd have no idea of the territory I'd be stepping into, and I didn't fancy my chances against the whole lot of them.

Dutch turned his body away, urging John to do the same. I glanced at them occasionally, realising it was John doing most of the talking and Dutch was deep in thought. I could no longer hear their words but every second that passed had me feeling more and more eager to jump on the horse and go like the wind. Before I reached tipping point, they came back to me.

“Like I said, you're welcome to stay as long as you need to, my dear. That's if you don't mind living with a whole gang of outlaws, as you clearly seem to understand is the case,” Dutch said, surprising me to no end. I stared at him for a few moments.

“Well, I'm hardly innocent myself,” I shrugged my shoulders weakly. He smiled.

“Hmm, John mentioned you'd had a run in with the law,” Dutch nodded thoughtfully.

“Just the once. I don't make a habit out of robbing people… only when I have to. Sometimes it's nice to have a little extra cash to get a hotel room with, when it gets cold,” I admitted.

“That's certainly something I can sympathise with,” Dutch chuckled. “I understand you've lost all of your things, your weapons, your tent, your clothes…” he trailed off.

“That's right,” I confirmed.

“Your horse,” he added, his tone deepening. “And you have some idea of the whereabouts of the feller that took it, is that right?”

I lifted one shoulder awkwardly. “A vague idea. He mentioned Emerald Ranch, I don't know if he lives there or what, but that'd be the first place I'd look if I actually had the guts,” I admitted.

“Well then, I'd like to help you get your horse back.”

My brows jumped up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“You've been extremely helpful today. I can see that you're a hardworking woman and we could always use an extra pair of hands to keep the camp running at its finest. If you stick around, I don't see why we can't give it a try,” he explained. John seemed about as surprised as I was.

“Well, I… how long do you want me for?” I questioned hesitantly.

“Let's give it until those bruises of yours heal, and then see how you feel,” he flashed a smile that was both charming and intimidating before walking away. I couldn't tell whether Dutch actually liked me.

John awkwardly scratched at the back of his head, hanging around a few steps away from me.

“So am I… I'm staying with you guys, at least for now?” I murmured.

“I guess so,” he shrugged. “I told him you'd work. It was either that or…Well, I don't know what he'd do. He's been extra cautious lately.”

“Right, and by work you mean I'm just hanging around doing chores for y'all?” I quirked a brow and John chuckled.

“I'm sure Dutch'll find something else for you to do. Everyone has a job here, going off their strengths.”

“Well, I'm hardly a gunslinger,” I said almost apologetically.

“Of course not. Most of the girls generally don't get involved with anything too heavy, but they have their jobs.”

I looked over at where the ladies of the camp were sitting. Some were knitting, others were reading, the camp was winding down for the day.

“What do they do?”

“Don't worry about that for now, okay? Just keep doing what you're doing,” his vagueness worried me. My mind jumped to conclusions about the kind of work the women did if the men were all out shooting and robbing. I felt the need to address my concerns.

“I don't mean to be rude, or presumptuous,” I dropped my volume, stepping into John's space.

“What?”

“There's certain work I'm not prepared to do, whether you'll help me get my horse or not,” I told him, hoping he'd work it out. The confusion plain as day on his face told me he didn't. “I ain't whoring myself out for nobody,” I bluntly rephrased.

Realisation washed his features but he didn't flinch at my words, he simply shook his head.

“Don't worry, that ain't gonna happen. Dutch; he ain't like that.”

I nodded firmly, relief flooding me. From the corner of my eye I saw someone staring; giving me a funny look. Abigail. I hadn't spoken much to her but I had learned enough to know that I was standing three inches away from her feller, and I immediately distanced myself.

“Well, good. Just so that's clear,” I mumbled, and walked away.

I'd spent the rest of the day doing menial tasks, helping out wherever I could, but by the evening time I was just getting in the way. I sat myself down around the back of a wagon, tucked out of sight near the horses, just watching them. Spending time caring for them, brushing them and making sure they had enough to eat, had made me miss Rayna, my own horse. She'd been the last living thing I'd spent any extended length of time with and when I sat down to think about it, it hurt. I hoped that we'd be able to find her whenever it was time to go looking for her.

I leaned my head back to the tree I was sat against and sighed loudly, closing my eyes. It was too early to sleep but I felt exhausted; though not much was new there. I was hungry but tried my best to ignore it, I'd felt too nervous grabbing some of the stew I'd helped prepare without a direct invitation to.

Someone close to me cleared their throat and I opened my eyes with a start. I was half expecting to see John, but instead it was Arthur. My pulse immediately quickened and I moved to stand up, feeling as though I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't, I wasn't sure why.

“Don't get up, you're alright,” he waved me down with his hand and shook his head. “So you're the new girl, huh?”

“I guess I am,” I shrugged, looking at his boots because it was easier than looking into his eyes. I just felt weird every time I did, and I couldn't wrap my head around it.

“I just wanted to say, uh, I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning. Coming in here, yellin’ like that, wasn't the best of impressions I'm sure. I know you ain't had it easy,” he took his hat off and held it with both hands behind his back, looking all proper and respectful. His tone was completely different to the one he'd used earlier, he sounded like a different person entirely. I couldn't escape the feeling that I recognised him, more than ever.

“There's no need for you to apologise, I'm the one intruding. And I'm not looking for pity, neither. I can't say I've ever really met anyone who has had it easy,”

“You're probably right about that,” he nodded and gave a quiet, humourless chuckle. “Well, I won't disturb you. There's some stew left, if you're hungry, Pearson said you hadn't eaten yet.”

“Thank you,” I said, finally getting the reassurance I needed to help myself. I stood up.

“I'm Arthur, though you already knew that.”

“I heard your name earlier,” I nodded, reaching out to shake his hand as I introduced myself. He nodded and gave me a knowing smile.

“I caught your name too,” he said, pausing a moment too long before he left.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fanfiction #john marston #dutch van der linde #ATINK #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader

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wakabond-blog · 6 years

Text

THIRTY ONE GUYS UP 4 HOURS FML LET’S GIT TO IT, first group up on warmup ice: ayyy Vincent hitting a nice 4Lz-3T

This next warmup group Danny wit dat fresh haircut, NBC hyping up the final group omg chill ur horses, Michal with those sleeve ribbons!

Interjection of hockey testosterone jeez being a referee in that would be terrifying you’re wearing no padding sheesh

Cutaway to Yuzu absolutely DESTROYIN that EZ applesauce pouch (okay it’s not applesauce but man is he twistin every last drop out)

Also screaming about how I can see the final group on my shitpost list getting closer to my cursor *bites nails*

Adam Rippon, Dmitri Aliev

Keiji Tanaka, Alexei Bychenko both happened but I took a shower to be clean for some clean skates

Okay wow so heading into the FS tomorrow:

-Nathan, get that redemption skate, go big, go clean, love it, love yourself

-Yuzuru: bring that Seimei power, work your natural magic, be yourself, keep the intensity, and just let it flow

-Javi: VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS BE QUIXOTE, get your own redemption from Sochi (also lol I don’t think it matters what happens in the end but you’ve already won in my mother’s heart)

-Shoma: SHOOM SHOOM INTO OUR HEARTS EVEN MORE, channel your 2017 Worlds Diva moment, do it do it DO IT

-Boyang: BRING THE STAR WARS HIT US WITH THAT ANGELIC SAUCE

#text #reactions #pyeongchang 2018 #olympics 2018 #men's short #too extra

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